Here's Some Artwork I Made For These Two Space Idiots. I Love Them Sm

They are happy and going on adventures together

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One week of being miserable

I’m… gonna go back to my room and cry 💔

Laundry Day (Cal Kestis x reader)

Summary: Cal can’t always control when his psychometric powers grant him a glimpse of the past. And even less so when the object holds a powerful emotional echo.

Or: Cal picks up the shirt you masturbated in.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI; afab!reader but no pronouns used; no use of y/n; porn with some plot; hints of voyeurism if you squint; sub!Cal if you squint; first kiss; first time; hand job; masturbation; if I missed anything please let me know!

A/N: This is shameless and self-indulgent and hastily written before the motivation left. I will not apologize.

Word Count: 2,205

Read it here on AO3!

NSFW below the cut!

You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.

The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.

This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.

And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.

Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.

And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.

Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.

The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.

But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.

“Get a grip,” you grumble.

As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.

“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.

“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”

“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”

He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.

A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.

The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.

To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.

His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.

“Cal, I—”

“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.

You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”

He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”

“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

He shakes his head. “How long?”

Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”

Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink dumbly. “What?”

A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.

A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.

His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.

This is really fucking happening.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.

“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.

“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”

You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.

“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.

He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.

“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He groans. “I- I’ve never—”

“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.

“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”

“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”

You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.

His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.

“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”

“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”

With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna cum like this.”

He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.

“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”

That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.

He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.

You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”

He just kisses you, and you’re content with that answer.

Tech’s armor is my favorite to draw. It is a bit more complex then the others, but it’s kinda fun to add all the little pieces.

cw: matting press, unprotected sex, breeding kink. reblogs will be appreciated thank u

having a husband like nanami made you confirm that the rumor of english teacher’s getting pregnant every single month is true.

since you got the job, kento let you take it — which, at the same time, worked an extra income — however, realizing how tiring was planning every single class and the fact it was only because you got bored of only being a housewife, his plan of getting you pregnant every time he could just for you to take a rest from your students started.

“let me make you a pretty momma again.” he would whisper in your ear. his hot breath made you flustered. while his cock makes his way through your sloppy sex and as he’s rimming the tip of his shaft in the most sensitive part of your cunt, you couldn’t help but mewl at the sentence.

“ken. ngh, ngh.”

he would make this over and over again, just couldn’t help but looking at your flustered face while he was pinning you until all of your pussy dripped all of his cum, which he would always got it back to make sure you would get well-pregnant and take a maternity leave.

“damn, english teacher got knocked up again and we won’t have the subject for 2 months.”

Missing the bad batch extra today

stress reliever

witty caption

this post is scheduled to go up as im in the middle of writing my exam aheehee also ty to @wwheeljack for the ref request

++with ref and timelapse

Xavier Head-canons

• Hi Pookies! Just know this just for fun and I want more friends who enjoy Love and Deepspace!

No minors! This is Female Reader x Xavier!

Xavier is the type of boyfriend who is willing to spend hours at a bookstore with you. Hand in hand as you two drift into different aslies. You both gravitate toward a book that neither of you two has read but have heard much about. “I think you’ll love it,” you say as you hand him a philosophical book. He sneaks a kiss at your kind gesture and holds the book you picked out for him. The constant connection you both share for the love of novels keeps the conversation going. Passing by the spicy romance, you can’t help to pull a book out of curiosity. Flipping through pages of the book you land on a erotic part. You read a glimpse of the erotic part feeling the need to finish it. You could feel Xavier behind you reading the page. He lets out a small “mhm” as he his hand goes to your waist. You can’t help but giggle as you quickly close the book. “You know you should buy that book. Maybe we can try a few things out.” He says as his warm breath goes to your neck. You playfully roll your eyes as you grab his hand to go buy both books.

You were tossing and turning the entire night. Not being able to sleep even with Xavier next to you. You sigh as you sit up, grabbing your phone to check the time. The bright screen making you groan, seeing how late it was. You decide why not just get out of bed to watch some videos. As you’re about to get up Xavier realizes you’re awake. “What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” He says softly with his eyes trying not to shut. “Yeah and I have work in the morning.” You say pulling the blankets on you again. Xavier notice your frustrations and smiles. He walks over to his small piano he has in his room. Your eyes follow him as you were curious what he was going to do. Xavier gives you a soft smile as he begins to play the piano. The melody is gentle, like a lullaby.

my babyyyy! 😣 look at him sulking and pouting😭🤍

full credit to artist: @fishbone0306 on X!