clone whore

GODDDDDDDD

no bc he’d walk in, immediately met with the back of you rutting away on his pillow, and walk out. he stands there for a moment outside the door, running a hand down his face and then chuckles, looking up to the sky as if to be like THANK U GOD LMFAOOO

and then he walks back in, the look in his eye bordering on crazy— wide eyed and pinning you when you scramble to get off the pillow and cover yourself. he raises a hand, lips turning downwards in a frown. “no point hiding now, is there? that my pillow?” he tilts his head, hand gesturing to the pillow.

you look down at your hands feeling hot all over. you couldn’t believe you’d let him catch you do this of all things, it was humiliating. you nod, not daring to look up at him. he tilts his head further, as if trying to prompt you to look at him. you do, and a malicious smile spreads over his face.

“and why, sweetheart, are you getting yourself off, on my pillow?” he edges towards the bed.

“i missed you.” youre quick to answer this time, voice high and defensive. he scoffs, shaking his head. you share a long look, before he lurches forward and grabs your ankle, flipping you to lay on your front. you squeal, and by nature fight, but his grip is way stronger than you are and he slides you towards the edge of the bed where he stands until his crotch is resting on your ass. he gives it a firm slap before rolling up the sleeves to his shirt.

“you know the rules. don’t start crying when you’re the one breakin’ em.” he didn’t have to look at you to know you were tearing up. he leans forward and grabs the pillow you were using, yanking it beneath you and shoving your face into it, specifically the wet patch you made. “yeah fuckin’ cry into that.” you squeal, but it’s muffled into the fabric as you hear him unbuckle his belt with the other hand, only making you groan and rub your ass against his crotch.

“yeah, you know what’s comin, huh.” he let’s go of your head to finish unbuckling his belt. you lift your head, catching your breath a little and whimper with a nod. “s’what you wanted though right?” you nod again. “speak when you’re spoken to.”

“yes rafe!”

he fucks the best after winning a race but sex when he loses is just- no words, because ofc he’d need a little pick me up soo.. (at least I think so)

omg also when he wins he’d def fuck you on the car

idk that’s just what i first thought of, idk if that’s already been established

or were you looking for something softer??

also hii

You know what I will take this because it's hot as FUCK AND IT'S BRIAN TIME FOR SURE, but I'm honest to god so soft today. I was legit just blabbing to Indy about him carrying you around when you're sleepy because you didn't want him to get out of bed to make the morning coffee.

me personally, i love and i mean LOVE the idea that bribri, i mean, brian loves just babbling and rambling and just going on and on about cars and of course at some point you were paying attention until your eyes seem to roam and just catch the way he moves his hands to gesture to whatever he is going on about, that his eyes literally show his passion for, again whatever he’s going on about, but mostly noticing the way his hairs fall into place, his eyes may seem bluer but it’s not, it’s just lighting, that he knows what he’s talking about it, and he checks, he checks to see if you’re listening, he stops and stares or if he’s not looking your direction he looks to you and you do your best to nod and do the ‘ooh’s and ah’s and hmm’s’ but once he eventually catches on, (i like to think) he goes “so what do you think?” it’s a test. “Oh. it’s- it’s yeah, pretty insane.” and he goes on to make up some silly thing “that penguins fly?” “Wait what?” and then he gives you a small kiss just to go on and then once again you do your best to listen. oh and of course it goes both ways

youre on a date and you happen to pass by a shop that just has everything you love and you go in and you talk to him about what everything is and he is soo not subtle about how he is not listening but not in a obnoxious way, but in a way that he is giving “im here to hold bags” boyfriend vibes, but something cut he does is he picks things out if he roams off and brings them back to show you, either to ask questions about it, or to say “you should buy this” or go “this is cute” or “i want to see you in this” and so it makes up for his not listening from earlier

👉👈

Anakin finds comfort in you when he can't sleep.

rating: general audiences | pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader | wc: 1.3k | read on ao3 warnings: comfort, first kiss

I'd like to start a challenge called "how many fics can I think of inspired by taylor swift songs?"

When there’s a knock at your door in the middle of the night, you know exactly who is standing on the other side. It’s become so routine over the course of the war, that you wonder if there’s a way for him to just stay with you. But of course, it’s forbidden. His attachment to you is forbidden. And yet… two tired blue eyes meet yours when you open your door. 

“Anakin,” you greet gently. Your heart sinks every time you see him so disheveled. He only bothered to put on a robe, the same as you before coming over. It’s tied loosely around his waist, revealing the various injuries on his chest and abdomen. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in several days. Even his face looks thinner, cheeks hollowing in ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he replies hoarsely. 

“Come in, Ani,” you ignore his apology and open the door further. Your apartment is dark, thanks to the thick curtains in your lounge and bedroom. Coruscant is a planet that never sleeps. The hum of speeders passing by your window at all hours used to bother you. Now you can’t sleep without it. And Anakin can’t seem to sleep without you. 

“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.

Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.

“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.

“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”

But you can’t fend him off.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”

He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.

“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.

“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?

Anakin who makes you fuck yourself until you're sore and raw because he wants to watch. Then and ONLY then, is when he decides to slide in and fuck you with his cock. You're wet, god you're so fucking wet, a mix of arousal and your own cum, but you can feel how raw you are, every thrust makes you whimper and wince.

THINKING ABOUT BRIAN O'CONNER

(I love you)

HI VERA 🥰🥰🥰