#sh. thots

[becca-e-barnes]

"Slippery When Wet."

Taking a quick jump back to the 'Shit He Said' series because I haven't given it nearly enough time.

I think I'd almost forgotten how it feels to be with someone who lets you feel like you're their entire focus. God, it's nice.

It's nice to spend time with someone who makes you feel so thrilled to be yourself. It's nice to want someone so intensely you can't wait to touch them again. Yeah, it's been nice 😵‍💫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, cream pie, oral sex (f receiving), thigh fucking, alcohol mention

Summary: You and Bucky spend some time relaxing together

Minors, do not interact

"These reusable plastic cups might have to do." You're standing on your tiptoes, reaching into the cupboard in the Airbnb kitchen, searching for the one thing you hadn't thought to bring with you.

"Those would be perfect." You hear in response from the bedroom just down the hall. "The rules said 'No glass in the hot tub'."

A sensible rule and one you're more than content to abide by.

One rule of few.

"You can open the champagne bottle. I don't need to go home with a horrible injury." You tease, lifting two of the plastic cups and making your way outside. Sandals of some description would have been smart but it's only a few steps out to the tub.

The cover has already been removed, the water is still and it's hard not to pause for a second and admire the view. Rolling green hills, a lake in the distance, flowers all around the patio and the sun beginning to set, bringing a very slight chill to the evening air.

There couldn't be a more perfect evening to climb into a hot tub and enjoy the scenery.

So that's exactly what you do.

The water is warm as you sink down in, settling yourself into one of the grooves. The level comes to just above your shoulders, lapping against the bottom of your chin as you adjust and get comfortable, looking over the edge at your surroundings.

"We'd need be careful getting out. The steps are slippery when wet." Bucky doesn't take long to join you, reading from the sign on the fencing that was strategically placed to give you some privacy.

Who knew he's so into rules.

Settling beside him feels natural. It's familiar and comfortable and reassuring in a way you didn't know you needed.

He couldn't possibly know how you've craved him since you saw him last. You'll do everything you can to make him feel it though.

He pours champagne into the two little plastic cups, handing one to you before looking for the button that starts the bubbles.

You clink the cups together, taking a sip from your respective glasses while the jets burst to life around you both.

"It's such a mild evening." You hum, cuddling in against his side, enjoying the chaste kiss he leaves on the top of your head.

"It is." He agrees, tilting your chin up so your lips meet his.

They're warm and soft and plump and taste faintly of champagne and there's nothing else you'd rather do in that moment than kiss this man more.

You break away quickly though, choosing instead to spend the time catching up. You talk about work and how things have changed since you last met up. You talk about your plans, your hopes and your fears. He gives you perspectives you hadn't considered and advice you fully intend to take, all while curled up in the bubbling tub.

The champagne slowly disappears. The glasses are filled up again and then that disappears too. You laugh together. You tease each other. You enjoy the company of someone you'd like to see a whole lot more of but understandably can't.

He gives you a reasoned perspective on the things that bother you. Somehow, you don't feel silly telling him about the little things that upset you recently or the worries you have. He's understanding and considerate and so damn fun to be around.

You pepper kisses across his broad shoulders, absentmindedly play with the little short curls of hair on his chest and he lets you feel so entirely worshipped.

He holds you in a way that makes you feel entirely wanted; like all of you is exactly the way it's meant to be and there's nothing he'd dream of changing. It's so incredibly attractive to feel so wholly appreciated. You want him in the very same way and every touch reminds you of that.

All too soon, the sun sets over the hills. The bottle is empty and the water starts to get to a temperature that's just a little cooler than comfortable.

You could sit here with him forever and never run out of things to talk about. That said, your fingertips are beyond wrinkled by the water and it's probably time to call it a night.

Somewhere in those last 30 or so minutes, you realised you need him again. The moment you'd arrived here earlier, the curtains had been pulled and you'd taken the opportunity to relieve some stress before dinner but it's not enough.

"Can I show you what else is slippery when wet?" You tease, pressing your lips to his with an urgency that surprises you.

He seems entirely into that idea, pulling your body impossibly close, his hand gliding up the inside of your thigh to rub against the thin material of your bikini.

Squirming in his lap is becoming a bit of a theme.

Before you get too far, you carefully step out of the hot tub and scamper inside, letting him close up the tub while you rinse off the pool water in the shower very quickly.

The anticipation gets to you, much like it always does. It only ever adds to the fun.

By the time he's also rinsed and dried off, you're perched on the edge of the bed, enjoying the feeling of your own fingertip trailing lazily over your clit. Your legs are spread wide, giving him full view of your glistening, soaked sex.

"I've been dreaming of this." He mumbles, kneeling at the edge of the bed and replacing your fingertip with his tongue.

Fuck, he's so good at that. His tongue flicks and thrashes, his neck working overtime to deliver you a sensation that not comparable to anything else you've ever experienced. He groans as he licks your body, enjoying the taste of your arousal and the slick wetness coating his chin to his nose.

You could let him do that forever and never grow tired of it. Your fingers have woven through his hair at some point and your thighs have clamped tight around his ears.

While you don't want to, his neck will thank you for suggesting a change.

You tug him up, eager to taste your own arousal on his lips and tongue and he doesn't disappoint. His tongue glides against yours, his wet chin rubbing against you and the intensity leaves you totally breathless.

You're almost frantic in how you need him now. "Please. I want you." You practically whine, grasping his firming length and giving him a few slow strokes until he's totally ready.

"Your hand always feels better than my own." He half laughs, half gasps, grinding his hips in time with the movements of your hand.

It's needy and desperate from both of you, much like it was earlier with the tip of his dick nudging your clit perfectly while he fucked your thighs.

His length slides against your eager core, massaging your arousal against his dick. It feels almost luxurious to be able to take your time with him. There's no rush, other than that dictated by your own need.

Before long, he's sinking into your body with a low groan, enjoying the way he feels your heat engulfing his shaft.

"You're so fucking wet." He moans, bottoming out and kissing your shoulders.

You know you are and it's borderline embarrassing how quickly he was able to get you like that.

"Such a pretty angel." He pulls back, giving himself a chance to sink into you again and it steals the breath from both of you. "You feel like Heaven. You're so hot around my cock."

He's bound to still be sensitive from the round earlier that day but it doesn't stop him.

"God, you're going to earn every drop of cum I give you. I'm going to pump you so full." He's so delightfully filthy and you love hearing him talk to you like that.

Your hand weaves its way between your bodies, finding your throbbing, neglected clit and rubbing it in rough circles.

"You want to cum inside me this time?" You love how you never really know what to expect with him. He he pulled out earlier in the day, choosing to glaze your chest and tummy with an impressive load instead.

"I'd cum inside you every time if you didn't look so pretty covered in it." His thrusts are faster now, meeting the rhythm your fingers have dictated you need.

"I want you to cum inside me this time. Fill me until I'm dripping." The image in your head as you're saying it is enough to make you quiver. You're chasing your high far faster than you thought you'd be but you're sure he's not far behind you. The notion of his cum filling you is a love that you both share.

"Want to taste it inside you when I'm done. Let it leak out of you and then press it back in with my tongue."

That's all it takes. One filthy little fantasy and you're trembling, cumming so hard you see stars. You work yourself through your high, riding it out on his cock and you're vaguely aware that you've milked his release from him too. You feel him spilling inside you, blowing another huge load into your eager body with a low moan and a few curses.

When you're both spent, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you close to him for a cuddle.

"Give me a few seconds. Then I'll get to work." He hums, breathlessly.

[echoedcrosshairs]

The Portrait ~ part two ~ Boba x F Reader

Plot: You, a daughter of a former bounty captured by Boba Fett, are asked to paint a portrait of the new Daimyo although you despise him you can't help notice the growing tension. 🖤Enemies to Lovers 🖤

Warnings: second person narration, no y/n, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is early fourties’ canonically ), lots of petnames (Little one & Old Man), praise kink, rough smut, bathroom smut, fingering, light hand on throat.

Word count: 5.7k

Masterlist part one

🔞no minors allowed🔞

Maybe part three, feeling spicy about Boba right now.

Boba watched you walk away leaving a trail of vanilla fragrance in your wake strong enough he didn't need to see you to follow you. He was thinking about the look in your eyes the shared expression of desire but your words conflicting. He closed his eyes feeing the raise and fall of his chest wondering if you really meant it or if you were baiting him into following. This is my fucking town. Attempting to be discreet he followed after you at a distance, finding you didn't go to a cantina but to the edge of the town staring into out into the vastness of sand. He prompt himself up against a building watching you and the sand if any creature emerged ready to terminate it if it even looked at you.

You felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck realizing he probably followed you anyway, you groaned. Can't I have a moment of privacy? Would he follow if I walked into the sand? Probably the Tusken's are out there and whatever else. You grabbed handful of sand watching it trickle through your fingers, before tossing the rest into the air watching it resettle below. You groaned picking yourself up, Just go to bed and work longer on it so you can leave but if only paint had been so simple to comply. He might not be the monster you thought him out to be and he’s insanely charming but everything catches up.

"Ride?" You heard him ask from the shadows.

"Fine."

You opted to drive again so you didn't have to touch him but the moment his hands found your hips you almost stopped breathing. Maker, do I want to fuck you or kill you. The answer should be simple. You were thankful he still had his helm on so you didn't have to feel the warmth of his breath against you but the warmth of his body and the closeness made up for it somehow. You practically jumped off of it after arriving back at the palace before he even had time to fully remove his hands feeling them accidentally trace down your ass as he pulled away. You briskly walked to your room his shadow in tow, thankfully he went into his own room when you went into yours. Striping down you found a few new things in your closet with a scowl until your fingers found the tailored pants. Angrily you ripped it off the hanger and put in the floor of the closet slamming it. You opted for your silk pants and shirt, climbed into bed wondering how much longer you could stand to be around him.

Boba went for his usual patrol in the morning greeting those in the streets as the suns began to rise. He knew that to help keep the peoples respect he needed to be seen keeping the place safe but his mind was distracted wondering how he could make it up to you. Bring her the sender but that goes against the code. The code that kept the guild strong and the one rule that Bossk shoved down my throat growing up more then any other. He knew there was only two people he could ask their opinion mattered to him and he resigned himself to asking, pulling off the normal route heading back home.

"Something wrong, Boba?" Fennec asked pulling her riffle off her shoulder.

He raised his hand motioning her to relax, "I have a moral dilemma, walk with me," he said heading away from the guards around the palace.

"Must be important," she chirped following after him.

"I want to serve her the man who ordered the bounty on her father on a silver platter," he admitted, "to see if it... make the rest of her stay tolerable."

"You were paid to forget," she said eyeing him, "but are you technically retired unless you have plans I'm not aware of," she added, "although it could cause some... problems if your caught."

"I'll just have to keep my hands clean then," Fennec was smart enough to catch a double meaning, "It be be a shame if I was set off world for... supplies."

"Speaking of which, I do happen to acquire some more fire power for if the Pykes ever return."

"I'll see what I can do."

Boba smiled finally taking off his helmet and continued walking. He stared down at the helmet, What would you have done, father? I should honor the Guild code yet I should offer him to her for my honor for what I did. He sighed wishing this particular woman wasn't so difficult. He thought of man kissing you and what he was going to do and it made his temper flare again. This is the right decision. He was sure of that, the flame of his father burned in him and his blood was boiling means there was only one opinion to fix it. He stood at one of the many windows wondering how many other things did he have to mend both within himself and for the sake of his honor.

Tapping woke you, your eye's slit open seeing it was dark already. You groaned rolling over but the tapping continued.

"This better be important." You huffed pulling back the covers to pry open the door to glare at whoever was disturbing your reason.

"The Daimyo has a tribute for you," Fennec smiled.

"Do I need to change?"

"No but you might to want too," her smile grew bigger with the annoyance leaving your tone.

"Okay..." you said puzzled closing the door.

"On our way," Fennec spoke into her comm the moment you stepped out the door.

"Why would the Daimyo have a tribute for me?" you asked letting the curiosity get the better of you.

You looked at Fennec but she remained silent. What's going on? The wheels turning in your head made internal gear grinding noises to figure it out. Did he deem me a threat to be eliminated because I turned him down? Although the major disrespect would be reason enough. Good thing I came prepared. Fennec lead you to the throne room, motioning for you to sit on it. Your jaw unhinged and your eyebrow's shot up, you found him standing on the floor below waiting. She's serious. You cautiously walked up the steps and stepped carefully on the stone slab staring the throne and then back at him. You wouldn't show the fear or anticipation. You took a steady breath sitting on throne crossing your legs the pant slits concealing your blaster more accessible.

"I hope my tribute to you will at least mend the wounds that I caused. I too lost my dad young, it wasn't until I found home with the Tusken's that I remembered what pain that caused me."

"This is a surprise," you said leaning forward teeth bared in a grin as Kilas was dragged to the floor draped in silver colored entire, hands bound and a silver chain collared around his neck. Served on a silver platter just for me. You watched Boba take the other side of the chain from Fennec, approaching the throne but never stepping up.

He offered you the chain, "As I see it he was worth far more to you alive then dead as tempting as it was," he said eyeing the disgraced former mayor of your hometown, "I hope this returns a shred of my honor," he whispered as you took the chain.

You pulled the chain watching him squirm. You coiled the chain around your arm dragging him the lip of the throne, "It's nice to see you again," you cackled watching the color drain from his face, "I would say we're going to be great friends but I don't think you'll survive long enough."

"I think you two would have made a great team," Fennec whispered watching you feed the man's fingers to the rancor.

"At least I just disintegrated them," he said watching the scene amused, "I'm not sure if this counts as cruel and unusual punishment... for my rancor," his laughter sounding like turning on your first ship, unforgettable the memory seared into every corner of your mind, "Having fun, little one?" He called down still watching.

"At least you know I won't feed you to your rancor in your sleep, old man, this is to much fun."

Fennec raised her eyebrow wondering if it was a valid threat but dismissed it, watching you apply Bacta gel on the numbs. "Is there a point to that?" She inquired.

"When I get out of here I'm turning into the guild!" The man shouted staring at Fett.

"Unfortunately your not leaving this place," you said pointedly rubbing the Rancor's cheek, "Fett, I thank you for the gracious gesture."

Fett nodded, "I'll accept the gratitude when your business with him is concluded however you see fit."

"How noble," you said patting the man's cheek, "however I have work to do, can I throw him in the cage next to the rancor.. to keep him company?"

"The rancor would be amused," Boba replied.

You grabbed the chain and yanked him into the cage by the chain carefully pulling out your blaster and turning the temp down shooting the chain to the bars sealing him to its, "I'll see you in the morning," you purred, "Make sure your in a better mood for me or I might have to take a trophy in hope that changes your tone." You smiled like a sly loth-cat walking up the stairs enjoying the sound of his pain and begging with every step, "It's going to be a long... long day." You heard the rancor start growling at him. Neither of them try to talk to you as you walked back into your room dawning your painting attire but your heart and mind weren't in this painting right now. You couldn't get your mind off of him. You took your sketch pad out hoping that drawing it would finally let the image dissipate from behind your eyelids. Hearing the door open you quickly closes the pad and pretended to get back to painting, you glanced over seeing Boba had taken the seat next to you placing his helmet on the floor by his feet.

"Aren’t you suppose to be asleep?" You mused at him.

"You seemed to be in a better mood" he said noting the change.

"Careful maybe it won't last," you laughed, "I'm happy with one of two," then horror hit your face when he picked up the sketch book, you tried grabbing it but it was to late he found the page.

His face betrayed nothing but mild amusement in  eyes, he closed it and return it to the floor, "I'm glad I could be inspiration. I could pose next time if you'd like," he said jokingly smiling staring at the painting.

You glared at him making him look at you, "You'd like that wouldn't you," you said pulling your eyes off his hazy gaze but he didn't say anything, "man of a few words," you mumbled.

"I would."

This time you remained silent, "What emotion do you want in your eyes?" You asked.

"Surprise me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm sure."

"Can you stop with the two word answers farking answers."

"Make me."

You got up and put his helmet on, shoving his chair over. You stood laughing between his legs looking down at him his back to the floor.

Boba gazed up at you through his visor, "That's it?"

You pulled the chair back up still between his legs, "I still don't like you," you said pulling the helmet off.

"I know."

You took your seat again holding the helmet in your lap, staring at it remembering the first time you saw this realizing you didn’t see the same man wearing it. You passed it back and forth between your hands before handing it back, “You giving him to me is almost irony on several fronts. I don’t see why you would care enough, I’m nothing but hostile towards you and the code is our life,” you said flatly looking at him, “It would have to be an important reason for you to do it.”

“Simple, honor.”

“That’s it?” You asked hitching an eyebrow, “I was expecting something more,” you added turning your attention back to the painting.

“Is that your question for today, why did I?” he asked examining it too.

“Yes.”

“My honor is everything but I’m a simple man. The comment from earlier that you didn’t want me too either. I don’t care about the hostility, I deserve it but being around you sends shivers down me,” he admitted, “I hope it would at let’s allow us to be… acquaintances.”

You sighed putting down the ain’t brush, that was the final straw. He eyed you as you stood up and stood before him. You wrapped your legs around the chair putting yourself in his lap kissing him. His hands still for moment stunned that you were kissing him he was expecting you to kick him out, not this. Your hands start to roam his body and his start to roam yours. A small moaned escaped you just enough to break the connection.

"I wasn't expecting that," his breath is hot against your throat. The heavy sound of need in his voice makes your heat slick even more and his fingers digging into you caused another small one to escaped. "We don't have too continue," he added pulling his hands off.

"I need this out of my system," you breathed putting your mouth on him removing the cod piece from his suit, “if we’re going to try to be… acquaintances.”

"Me too." Boba grinded into you letting you know the size of his need too sending a pulse through him at the contact of how close he was to you. He moved down your neck placing hot deep kisses tugging on each one wondering if you'd even want to remember but the marks would be there to remind you. Both of you burning without a thought in your head other then getting to feel and see the other. He scooped his arm under your ass picking you up leaving the armor peace on the ground. Neither of you stopped grasping and clawing at each other not caring who saw until he dragged you into the door way of his room.

Letting his hand leave your thighs he pulled away from your mouth, "Are you sure, absolutely sure?" He asked hesitating uncharacteristically looking at how beautiful you looked in his arm.

"Yes,” you breathed panting trying to take some steadying breaths, “or you might not get a second chance,” you add noticing the predatory glint in his eye promised you one long night causing a demanding warm pulsating need through your hips.

Even with the delay he carried you effortlessly to the edge of his bed setting you there, kicking the door sharply with his heel causing it to slam shut. His hand worked it’s way up your shirt feeling the goosebump his touched caused in one quick movement he pulled the shirt off followed by letting his armor clank to the ground. His mouth founds it way back to your neck, hot and heavy going down it just stopping at your bra line before pulling back again to look you in the eye as you tugged impatiently on the flight suit.

“So impatient, I promise it’ll be worth it,” his voice was as velvety as it was course and the flame in his eyes making the shades of brown deepen intensity was enough to make you quiet the retorting joke about his age. The gaze was intoxicating you dropped your eyes down to your cleavage with a smile feeling his eyes trail there, “and demanding” he teased.

“Is the great Boba Fett scared he’s not as good as he once was? Is that why you only admire?” You finally poke regretting it the moment it came out as he stood you up and ripped your pants and underwear down

“I’ll replace those later,” he growled picking you up and dropping you back onto the bed reddening knowing you just got even wetter. He ran his fingers up your leg letting his nails graze the bare skin soaking in the image of you laying there just for him.

You watched his pupils dilate further watching you spread your legs further for him causing a string of words to fall out of his mouth that you didn’t understand, you smirked giving him an puzzled look. He’s before you leaning over his desire with his hands squeezing the underside of your thighs pulling you to his face. You look to see the ravenous look in his face and the smirk on his lips as he slowly bring his mouth to your thighs kissing up them each kiss forcibly deliberate. You whined his touches but not touches driving you crazy.

“I want this as much as you do,” he smiled moving his mouth up your other thigh, “just wondering if I’m going to wake up before I’m done.”

“You better hurry up before I do it myself,” you breathed frustrated. The look in his face fades a little from carnal desire to show some intimacy in his features. “What?” you asked seeing the slip.

He took a breath standing up removing the suit and his underwear pulling you both up on the bed putting your head on the pillow, “I can wait a little longer on what I want to do with you, little one,” he whispered lining himself up at your entrance.

Boba traced you, stroking himself with the wetness that was seeping out letting his tip rack up your clit causing a small grunt to come out at the sensation. You looked up to see that the carnal looked had fully returned. He stared at you pinning your legs open with his deliciously rough hands. He took another stroke in stride feeling your lips open to him and the tip pressed into the knot cause your hips to grind back into him. He lined himself back up slowly pressing the tip into you groaning as felt your walls drag against him trying to adjust to his size. Your fingers dug into his arm as he pressed himself fully into you bottoming out bringing your hips together. You closed your eyes from a moment, the sensation sending signals scattering through out your body. Your eyes opened back up when you felt his hands move off your legs leaving them tender without the pressure of his touch. One hand planted it’s self by your head gripping the sheets and the other right below your belly button.

“Next time the artist becoming the focus for once,” he growled in your ear smashing his mouth against yours, biting your lip and sucking on it gently before positioning himself up. He gently stroked himself inside you lazily moving his fingers to your clit circling it with the usually light tug but slow lying down every time you started getting loud nearing the edge before the sensation deflated. After a couple times he saw you glaring at him, “Punishment for bringing up I’m older then you.” You looked down him admiring the scars on his face and across his body wishing you could use them to rack your body against. Your mouth wished it could trace the muscles outlining his figure chiseled his arms and legs like stone.

“But I like older, if you remember,” you reminded smugly, “or do I need to go out and remind you,” you tsked at him. Your throat let out an unrestrained moan as he quickly pulled out and slammed into you giving you an idea of his strength and how much he was holding back.

“Say that again and I’m binding you to my bed.”

Your moaning picked up as the ferocity of his pounding didn’t let up. Your head sunk into the pillow and you could barely keep your eyes open. Instinctively your hips tilting causing him to press into the right places as he thrusted. “Maker” you moaned taking your knuckles into your mouth to silent yourself.

His hand came up and forcibly ripped it out of your mouth, “I don’t care who hears” he growled biting your wrist before bringing your hand to his neck. You moaned at the comment, the heavy lust that coated his voice not realizing you would love it if this man was rougher with you. Every stroke pulling more of you out with it, making both of you wet messes down to your thighs and creeping up towards his abs. He speared into you harder his tip kissing into the top of you each time. He moved his fingers faster stroking your clit with urgency watching to feel you clamp down on his cock and see the face you would make for him when you came.

“Cum with me,” you pant, “I want to feel you,” you moved your hand from the side of his neck to the back of it letting your nails dance up his scalp.

“Maybe I should have warned you to be careful what you wish for,” he smiled, the molten look over his tanned face made the feeling building up unbearable. “You look so…” he place three rough strokes feeling you start to tremble under him, “stunning, mesh’la,” he got out staring to feelvhis thighs start to tighten. The praise caused unbounded warmth to go down you and he could feel the warmth on his cock, “You like that don’t you,” he smiled, “You’re taking this old hunter’s cock so well,” he purred working his fingers around your clit faster feeling you spasm around him, “I promise you’ll be full,” his voice dropped threateningly.

You cling both your hands to his face, “Boba,” the moan came out like a cry as he finally set you over the depth end knowing that if anyone didn’t know what you two were up they definitely did now with how loud it was. Your hands tremble over his face, your face between pleasure and pain as you watched him finally release in you.

He slowly pulled out as he filled you from the top before slamming it back in cause some of it to slip out. The warm gush made you tighten against his cock holding him there with a vice. You barely heard his groan as he brought his other hand off your pulsating clit to the back of your head pushing your forehead against his still lazily stroking himself with you. Your body feels heavy coasting on his bed trying to find yourself. He finally stills pushing his hips against your groaning deeply, his lung protesting the lack of air your pussy knocked from him. He looked down at your soft sleepy expression, smiling at himself carefully pulling himself out and weak legs walked over to his towel rack and selected a soft one before climbing back into bed carefully moving your legs to put the towel between them noticing the goosebumps that lined your skin.

“So beautiful,” was the last thing you heard from him panting before subconsciously turning yourself into his chest, your head pounding feeling the bliss fading to a warm tingled. Boba started stroking your sides pulling you out of your mind, “Mesh’la.”

“Hmm?” you replied.

“Again or do you want to nap?” He smiled noticing the yawn.

“Nap” you admitted your body drained, you felt him press a kiss to your forehead before drifting for a bit. You woke awhile letting stretching out feeling his absence. You found another fruit basket where he was suppose to be with a note sticking out.

“Bathing join me? Ignore this if I’m back already -Fett”

You laughed prying yourself up noticing a robe laid out for you. You sat up the last little bit of him left in you trickling out over the completed soaked towel. How much is even possible? You laughed again putting on the robe going down the hall with a note attached to another door, “This one -Fett.” You shook your head and opened the door and closing it behind you. The room was steaming with a huge pool tub in the middle with little jets.

You saw him open one eye “You’ll never want to shower again if you step in,” he jokingly threatened.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you said discarding the room to the bench along the wall, seeing his other eye opening taking in the view of you as you stepped into the pool. “You are correct,” you groaned sitting across from him putting the knot in your back against the little jet.

“I warned you,” he chuckled. He eyed you for a moment before leaning his head back on edge staring up at the ceiling enjoying the warmth of the water respectfully noting your decision to sit away from from him. “Glad you got to enjoy this before whatever’s next. Personally I think this my favorite room in the whole palace” he said closing his eyes.

“What was wrong with it?” You inquired doing the same.

“I may have to much spotchka and fiddled around with the plumbing trying to make the jets blast harder.”

“Not so good with your hands?” you snarked with a giggle.

“I’m excellent with my hands she just didn’t enjoy the amount I had to drink first,” he said tossing back the innuendo.

“Can only have so much before you get sloppy.”

He chuckled, “in my case a bottles worth.”

You leaned your head back up looking at how peaceful he looked and how vulnerable with his throat exposed. Your hands probed at your feeling the tender spots remember his kisses. You smirked standing up and walked over to him sitting in his lap putting your mouth on his throat, he didn’t even finch as your teeth grazed him before your lips replaced them tugging on the spot. You could feel his cock growing again but he kept his hands to himself smiling at the ceiling.

“I’ll always want to do it in here if you keep it up,” he warned keeping his arms folded over his chest.

“You want to prove that one too?” You said moving down his throat letting your tongue graze his Adams apple.

He groaned grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him, covering you with his hand setting you infront of the jet, “I warned you,” he said releasing his hand letting the jet hit your now throbbing clit. He held you there letting one hand travel around to your breast and the other to your entrance pressing his cock into your ass cheeks slightly moving up and down, “Now make more of those pretty noises for me,” he said plunging his two of fingers in knowing his fingers were in the perfect position as you immediately grabbed the lip of the bath.

The sensation of the water against and his fingers were turning you into pleasure putty for him. Boba was rough, a little rougher then he meant to bed but the noises you were making were driving him mad. It didn’t take you long to be squirming on his fingers, he brought his hand to your the front of your throat pulling you up towards him, “Say my name and I will fuck you until you forget your own,” he grunted watching your face twitch nearing the high.

“Boba,” the moan reverberated off the walls, and you felt yourself coating his hand and another sensation tear through the lower half causing another moan to come out. He didn’t give you time to ride out the high even a little as he pushed your hips up on the ledge of the bath planting you on the warm ground with your legs still submerged as he slammed into you.

His cock had a mind of its own ramming into you, there was something about how you moaned his name that made it sound so ethereal like the maker himself designed your voice for him. He enjoyed pulling you part on his cock a few times watching you squirm with ecstasy each time. He finally slowed down after the fourth time to see the quivering mess you were. “I think I’ll finally cum in you,” he laughed kissing down your back at your string of nonsense, “I warned you.”

Boba can fuck, apparently you had said it outlet because he started rough again. He pulled your hips back letting his hand find your pulsating pleasure knot, you widened your hips for him making him moan your name as your walls clung to him tighter. Your mind was fuzzy only about to think of him and the feelings he made course through you. Your hips are shaking against his, you practically screaming his name as his hand tightened around your throat. Your whole body burning at his touch.

“Your pussy better enjoy this,” he said roughly fucking you as he exploded in you making sure every ridge and millimeters of your cunt was covered in him. He carefully removed his hands from your throat and clit letting you fall carefully in his hands pulling out of you still semi hard wrapping you in his lap. Boba chuckled as you barely responded, you were gone from this world. He kissed your head standing up patting you dry wrapping you up and covering himself and placing you in his bed again, “Drink the melons when you wake up,” but you were to gone to recognize the words.

You when you woke again he was gone again but this time there wasn’t a note. Every inch of your body ached, then you thought of what you too had been up too and your faces heated. That actually happened. Where is he? You made your way to your room to find actual clothes before wondering out to the throne.

“Lady Kryze!” You smiled running towards her practically slamming into her with a hug.

“Interesting,” you heard Boba say.

You pulled off of her, looking at him and then back at her the red returning to your face, “Sorry it’s been so long,” you smiled at her.

“I was wondering if I could borrow your skills when your free.”

“Any thing for the Queen of Mandalore. How can I be of service?” You asked ignoring the small glare from Boba.

“I need your painting skills,” she said watching Boba relax a little, “amusing your almost done with your current commission.”

“Give me two hours to finish,” you said with a small bow.

“How do you two know each other?” Boba asked.

“Where do you think I learned Mandalorian philosophy?” You said smiling arching a brow at him, “I wasn’t the only person in the galaxy back then you hated you.”

“Should have figured, Princess,” you noticed the endearment wasn’t pointed at you but her before you had time to question if they were a previous thing you dismissed yourself to finish the paint and pack.

“You did this?” Bo said surprised sneaking up behind you as you finished packing up your supplies, “It’s one of kind.”

“Thank you, the Daimyo wanted to be show in a previous light compared to his predecessors so I took some personal liberties to improve it.” The look in his eyes you picked were adoration specifically how he looked at you, you smiled looking at it signing your name and com frequency in the corner. You found Boba waiting for you outside with his Helmet on when the two of you left the room.

“I’ll be at the ship while you to finish up business,” Bo said looking at rigid posture.

“Digital or physical creds?” He asked coldly.

“Either, my frequency is on the painting. You can have Fennec contact me,” you said returning the tone wondering where it was coming from all of the sudden or wondering if he happy to discard you now that you both got what you needed. Your throat tighten, It felt like more to me. Your heart raced confirming it, “Now excuse me, I have a favor being called in,” you pushed out, “by the Princess,” the word came out harsher then you meant it too. You moved away by you felt his gloved hand on your wrist, “What?”

Boba realized he fucked up that you weren’t leaving because you regretted it but because you are loyal, “I… look forward to you coming back,” his words betrayed his composure, his words tender. He saw you relax hoping you knew he misread the situation before releasing your wrist watching you walk off.

Getting on Bo’s ship you were bombarded with questions as she noticed the tension and marks you were trying to hide. You listened as she told you Boba’s story and him helping a friend of hers. You stared at the window of the ship realizing he more then a former feared bounty hunter who you wanted to hated but a reformed man who might be worth a chance.

“She’s been gone for two weeks,” Boba said downing another glass of spotchka.

“I’m sure your precious artist is coming back, at least for the man still in your rancor pit,” Fennec said trying to be uplifting but realistic at the same time, “plus she’s almost done anyway.”

Boba put the drink down and looked at her, “how do you that know that?”

“Cause I reached out to her frequency to transfer the credits? Her and I, are actually friends… Haven’t you? If I didn’t know better your head over blaster for her” She said raising at eyebrow.

“A couple times with short replies.”

A ship crash got there attention and they went out weapons drown towards the smoke. They found you bent over laughing watching it burn.

“I found and stole Kilas’s ship,” you cackled laughing with tears streaming out but you tired to composed yourself, “For a rich man his ship definitely just spare parts.”

The sound of Boba’s laughter brought you back, the sound like liquid gold laced with the sensation of a good nights sleep. He holstered his blasters and walkover to you pulling you against his armor, “Little one.”

“Your crushing me, old man,” you huffed the armor digging into you.

He pulled off lifting his helmet just enough to put his lips next to your ear, “I’ve been thinking about fucking on a canvas covered in paint… with a bath afterwards,” the daydream shot electricity down you with a smile.

“Only if I get to to pick the colors,” you smirked leaving him standing there heading towards the palace with your two surviving bags.

[palmtreesx3]

same girly pop, the thought never leaves my brain either. but you know what ELSE doesn’t leave my brain??? giving steve road head. booo safety laws my ass I wanna fuck my pathetic cringefail swagless bisexual loser while he’s trying to concentrate

-🧱

The girls he's been with haven't had the AUDACITY so this is not even on his radar.

Maybe he's just on an absolute tangent rambling about something stressing him out (like his dad) and he's so engrossed in his rant and watching the road that he doesn't notice you fiddling with his waistband, and you're so quick about leaning down and diving in that he doesn't see it coming and he 100% swerves the car.

There's a lot of protests, but he only gets them out a third of the way before you shut him up every time with another deep bob or firm, flat lick up the length.

There's fingernail marks in the leather of his steering wheel now - you're sitting back up in the passenger seat wiping the corners of your mouth and smiling smugly and you stretch your arm over, put a finger on his chin and help him shut his gaping jaw.

[eyelesslover]

i want to rip my lungs out and pound them with a meat cleaver

[rnaeborowski]

bpd has been kicking my ass like i'm flat like pancake on the ground like a cartoon character

[psychosodomy]

Had the shock of a lifetime hearing a therapist use the frase “unalive yourself”

[whimsidollie]

Started crying while laying on my back and got so weirded out by the feeling of a tear going in my ear that it snappd me out of my spiral

[keeksandgigz]

more 18+ smutty thots (minors dni)

I don't know what came over me I was supposed to write an essay and this came out. disgustingly fluffy smut under the cut.

ok so while the idea of being fingered with rings on is really hot, I personally think it's really painful, you just get repeatedly punched in the pussy by like chunky metal. not very hot.

so picture this, Eddie always fingers you with his right hand because it's easier to take off one ring than three, big, chunky ones. He usually puts it down somewhere, maybe on his dresser or his desk, just so he knows he won't lose it.

And he's kneeling on the floor between your legs, getting ready to give you the biggest and sloppiest and the best head of your life. His hair is tied up and his other hand is keeping your thighs spread- now, the bite of those rings on your thigh you don't mind. They're cold and your flesh gets stuck in the gap between the ring and his finger, giving your inner thigh a delicious pinch.

But he's shirtless and he's famished and you notice that he still has that ring on. And he's circling your entrance with his ring and middle finger and as much as you'd love for him to keep going, because he's making you feel so good you have to stop him.

He emerges from in between your thighs, alarmed.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Need to stop?" his eyebrows are curled in a concerned manner, he's worried you weren't enjoying it. Ever the people pleaser.

"No no no, not at all" you huff, there is not enough oxygen in your brain for you to think right now. You stare at the ceiling, hoping that miraculously the words will come to you.

"What is it then?" he urges, giving your thigh a soft squeeze.

"Your um- your ring" you whisper softly, tilting your head towards his slick soaked fingers. He takes a moment to register, looking at his right hand, seeing the small little silver ring on his ring finger.

"Oh shit, sorry sweetheart" he goes to clean his fingers on the duvet of his bed, which makes you wince a bit. He probably won't was those sheets anytime soon.

He takes his ring off, but a malicious grin adorns his face as he plays with it a little, looking at you, still spread open and naked on the bed for him.

"Why don't you hold on to it for me?" he asks, as he reaches for your left hand, placing the slightly loose ring on your fourth finger. Your ring finger.

The thought makes you gasp as he wastes no time diving back into eating you out. His thick fingers spreading you open for him, as the gesture, though small, makes a wave of arousal mixed with utter love and devotion wash over you.

Your moans get louder with the possessive nature of the gesture, he wanted you to be his.

"Yeah? Y'wanna be my little wife?" he says in between licks and sucks at your core as his fingers make quick work of brushing that soft spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His words only top the whole thing off.

"Oh- sh-yes, Eddie!" and you're not even sure what you're saying yes to. Everything feels too good, from the way his ringed hand is gripping your thigh, to the way his too- big ring burns its way into your skin. His. His little wife.

Your right hand digs at his hair, grabbing and pawing at the soft curls, urging him to fulfill you, a carnal need for more of him. A need for him to have you in any way he can.

His fingers picked up the pace, compensating for your mouth separating from you, chin and nose covered in slick.

"Who would've guessed a ring was all you needed. I put this little piece of tin on your finger and you go insane? Trust me baby, I'll give you the real thing. I'll give you everything you want" he mumbles against the skin of your tummy, mouthing soft praises.

"So good for me, aren't you. Gonna be mine so soon" and the promises of such a certain future make your head reel. His fingers curling inside of you as you cry out, the feeling of him being everywhere on you. Inside and out.

His hair fanning on your tummy as he continues his trail of hisses to the hinge of your knee, your calf, your ankle. The arch of your foot.

Then his hand is on you, brushing stray hair out of your face, cupping your cheek as your moans become lighter, airier.

"You close, baby? My little wife wants to cum for me?" he asks, his mouth against the seam of your thigh, licking and sucking bruises in his wake.

And you can't really speak aside from soft hn! noises and the occasional cry of his name, a prayer above as your walls begin to tighten around him.

"'mclose" you deliver curtly and he smiles, watching the way your cheeks flush, your eyes can't stop rolling to the back of your head.

"C'mon, baby, cum for me" he says, and like a spell has been cast on you, you follow his order, tightening around his fingers that don't seem to be stopping as you ride out your orgasm.

You have to push his hand away, an overwhelmed whine coming out of your mouth as you lay there.

"No more, no more" you chant, laying back as he sits on his bed, laying your head on his lap, caressing your matted and sweaty hear, brushing them away from your forehead as you catch your breath, playing with the new addition to your finger to steady yourself.

"You can keep that if you want. Gonna get you a chain, wear it around your neck" he says, smiling down at you.

"But it's yours, Ed" you squeak out, tired in a post orgasmic glow.

"Consider this an advance. For when I get to put a ring on that pretty finger" he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

And you feel safe, secure. Happy.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

****************************************************

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

[becca-e-barnes]

It's been 3 weeks since I first starting thinking about this but I just can't shift the thought of making a subby!dbf!Bucky cum inside you so I'm gonna talk about it

But I really do mean "making" him cum inside you.

Like both hands on his neck while you ride him, watching him turn into the most beautiful mess, succumbing to pleasure he's not quite used to.

He's not used to it because he'd always worn a condom up until that point. Maybe he didn't think it could feel all that different but now that he's inside you, losing himself in how slick and soft you are, it's like nothing he's ever felt before.

"O-oh God, no." He whines, his hips rising off the bed to press every inch into you. His eyes have been closed almost the entire time you've been on top of him because he swears if he looks at you for too long, he's going to cum a lot faster than he wants to.

"Are you okay?" You ask softly, moving one hand from his neck to cup his cheek but he takes your wrist and clamps your hand back down on his throat.

"So good." He groans, whimpering each time you slide down on his length. There's almost a relief in this for him but it's a relief he didn't know he needed. He didn't think he would crave this as badly as he does but he knows he'll probably never want to use a condom again.

"Fuck..." He grunts, eyes squeezed shut, little beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. "Fuck, you need to stop. I'm gonna cum."

Arousal twists in your stomach, hearing he's lost himself in this so quickly. It's beyond rewarding, knowing he just can't bring himself to last any longer but you don't let yourself dwell on how it's quite a strange thing to be flattered by.

"No, you're gonna cum inside me." You readjust your grip on his neck and you watch the way his brow furrows, desperate to hold off his orgasm.

"Babe, no. Fuck, I gotta pull out." Despite what he's saying, his hands grip the meat of your hips, helping you work yourself on his length.

If he really wanted to, he's more than strong enough to shift you off him. He could push you back onto the bed with one hand. Half of his brain tells him he should but the other half tells him not to.

The latter half is dangerous. That half tells him you'd be a fantastic mother. It tells him you'd look so pretty with your tummy swelling with his baby. It tells him that this was your plan all along. This is what you want. You know the risk that comes with not letting him pull out.

"Cum inside me." You're adamant, flexing your fingers ever so slightly against his neck, bouncing on him until you feel his release shoot into your body.

"Fine. Oh God, fine. Take it." It's too late anyway and he knows it but seeing you look so damn smug just makes him cum even harder.

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEYS TEA ON SELF CONCEPT୧ ‧₊˚ 🌸

this post will include affirmations that i use on a day-to-day basis, and in general things that i do for my god-tier self concept <3

tier one : AFFIRMATIONS (thoughts i frequently have)

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi know for a fact that i have all my desires because i am god

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi know for a fact that i have all my desires because i am the creator

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi am the source

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi have perfect self concept

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟim on the pedastal

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi get everything i want because i say so

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi am (insert desired traits)

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi am a master manifestor

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟmy manifesting abilities are unmatched

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi am the star in every room that i stand in (nicki minaj)

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟeverything goes my way

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi have everything i want because i said so

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟeverything in life exists to serve me

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟi mold my reality the way i want to

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟim limitless

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟim barbie

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟim a literal goddess

tier two : MUSIC (song recommendations and brief science)

listening to or making music increases blood flow to brain regions that generate and control ur emotions. its called the limbic system and it "lights up" when our ears perceive music. more-so the type of music that u listen to can have an impact on ur MOOD.

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟbig difference - nicki minaj - THIS SONG HAS SO MANY GOOD AFFIRMATIONS IN IT. i literally catch myself singing it to myself in my head and its so productive bcuz im implenting self concept while listening to good quality music

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟqueencard - (G)IDLE - this song is all about empowerment and its so catchy so i 10/10 reccomend it

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟprincess diana - ice spice - im thick cuz i be eatin oats

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟdeli - ice spice - literally any song by ice spice is such an amazing manifesting tool

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟthot sh*t - megan thee stallion - i love love love megan's music

other artists like britney spears, flo milli, ariana grande, black pink, and beyoncé are artists that helped my self concept

tier three : IMPLEMENTATION (how i implemented my mentality so that its set in stone)

i have a habit of while im in my bed (in the state akin to sleep) of just whispering to myself and vaunting about my self concept. and then i go to sleep in that state of being and its just amazing

i'd listen to my playlist ab self concept and sing in the mirror the lyrics word for word while admiring myself

acting. as. if.

the key thing was CONSTANTLY reminding myself bcuz the concept of a self concept was so foreign to me at one point so back when my self concept was weak, whenever something undesirable would come up in my reality my self concept would constantly fluctuate and then i'd wonder why im not getting the results i wanted.

repetition is KEY

now its just like second nature, now what were once affirmations that i repeated to myself consciously, became thoughts that my brain generated subconsciously.

[melodygatesauthor]

Marc Spector - Random Horny Thot #1 - The (almost) 40 y/o Virgin

NSFW

——

Marc doesn't want to tell you he's a virgin because he thinks it's embarrassing. He's a grown man, approaching his 40s, and he's never had sex before. Something about the thought excites you to no end.

You’re hovering over him while he’s on his back. His normally stern face looks (very slightly) desperate, like he’s begging you to just fuck him already. You can feel his needy cock twitch between your thighs. He’s leaking precum down his cock and you think he might come before you even have the chance to feel him inside of you.

His hands are on your hips, and he’s trying not to push you down because he wants you to have control. He’s never done this before and doesn’t want to go to hard or too soft. He doesn’t know what you like. Marc doesn’t even know what he likes.

You finally get yourself down so just the fat tip of his heady cock is inside, and already he’s trembling. His breathing is shaky, rapid and so fucking pathetic. You love it. You drop a little lower, his head flies back and almost cracks open on the headboard. He moves his hips upward ever so slightly, unable to help himself.

“F-fuck honey, sorry I just, fuck I want it so bad.”

“Sh, baby I know, be patient,” you tell him.

You’re able to lower yourself down once. One. Single. Time. Before Marc Spector is choking on the moan inside his throat and holding onto your hips so tight you think he might break you in half. His entire body shakes with his orgasm while his cock explodes and he empties inside of you.

He looks at you, so embarrassed that lost himself so early, face rosy and flush, but you just smile and kiss him softly.

“Let’s go again, this time you’re on top.”

——

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

[forlorn-crows]

mountain sitting on dews face

what r ur thots 👁👁

oh i have thots 👀

how about a lil modified 69 with these silly horny guys?

Mountain’s balls draw up for about the third time since he sat his ass on Dew’s face. He can’t help it, though, not really. Not when that hot mouth suctions to his rim and his delightfully wet tongue delves unnaturally far inside. 

His dick twitches, sending another drop of precum onto Dew’s clavicle. “Shit, sometimes I think just your tongue could make me cum,” he groans. 

Dew pulls away and grips his asscheeks hard. “It has, big guy.” The smirk in his voice is obvious, even when Mountain’s facing away from him.

“Ugh, I meant right now, asshole.”

“I’m already in—”

Dew squeaks as Mountain grabs hold of his little dick and squeezes. It drools a fat glob of precum onto his knuckles, pearly and thick. He kicks his feet against the blankets with an undignified whine.

Mountain just sighs. Strokes his thumb through the mess he’s already made. “Fuck, why’re you so cute.”

“You are suffocating my di-i-ick fucking fucker—” he wheezes. That thumb presses further into his slit, pushing down the sensitive foreskin and rubbing over the width of the head. Mountain’s slow and antagonizing with it, doing it over and over until Dew groans bodily, right into his hole. 

“Oh, Belial, do that again,” he gasps, mercifully releasing his dick. 

“How ‘bout you ask me nicely.”

Mountain scoffs. “Pleeaase moan into my ass again?”

“Uh uh. Try again,” he teases, spitting straight up into his hole and rubbing over it with the pad of his finger. 

“F-fuck—” 

“Come on, Mount, why don’t you kiss it a little? Where’s that sweet-talk, hm?” Dew rolls his hips to bounce his cock in the earth ghoul’s face where he’s crumbled to his elbows. 

He can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. “Please. Wanna feel it,” he starts, genuine this time and much more needy. 

“I’m listening.” Dew’s tone gets softer too. He swirls around his hole, watches it clench. 

Mountain’s gasp fans hot over the head of Dew’s cock. “Gonna make you feel good so you moan and groan right into me.” He noses down the wet length and presses a kiss to the base. “Kiss you all sloppy here,” he mumbles. 

“Shit, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His lips wrap around the side of his shaft, as promised, tongue darting out to lick at the veins. Mixing saliva into the streaks of slick. 

“Hnf, like that.” He bucks into it, balls bumping into the side of Mountain’s chin. “Fuck, sit down.” Dew digs his claws into his boney hips and forces him back onto his face, squarely onto his waiting tongue. Burying his nose between his cheeks. 

Mountain whimpers. He grips the inside of Dew’s thighs and spreads them open. Migrating from the side of his cock to swallow the whole thing down in one go.

“Ffuuu,” Dew moans right where it counts. The earth ghoul can only respond with a dumb, gurgled sound. It’s a vicious echo chamber of cause and effect, each of their actions spurring on the other in a self-imploding horny cycle. It only takes a few more minutes of impassioned attention to Mountain’s hole to get him close again, balls drawing up and mouth dragging down Dew’s dick until he’s panting into his taint. Mushy-brained and fumbling for words.

“Gonna—D-Dew,” he struggles, thighs crushing into the smaller ghoul’s ribs. Dew presses that spot inside him again—with only his tongue, how is that only his tongue?—and Mountain wheezes. His cock bobs back and forth between his stomach and Dew’s chest, splattering them both with precum that just won’t stop. 

Something that sounds vaguely like uh huh come on vibrates through his core, and that vocalization is what sends him over the edge, shooting onto the fire ghoul’s chest with a surprised shout. 

“Sh-h-hit,” he hisses against Dew’s skin, nose pressing tight to his little balls until he whimpers too. Mountain twitches through shudder after shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling on Dew, but his brain’s too empty to care. 

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul coos, regaining his composure (and the upper hand). He rubs Mountain’s backside as he slowly goes limp, the bigger ghoul groaning louder when his cock finally makes contact with his own mess and grants him one last jolt of pleasure. Dew presses a kiss to his hole, tutting when it clenches. “Such a sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

Mountain gurgles something unintelligible. 

“Yeah you are.” Sadist that he is, Dew slips his pinky into that puffy, spit-coated hole, prodding until he hits the spot. Wringing a breathy, feminine moan from Mountain that he’d surely be embarrassed about, if it weren’t for all of his self-consciousness shooting out of his dick along with his load. 

He tuts again. “Be a fuckin’ shame to waste this nice wet ass, wouldn’t it?”

Mountain chirps, a questioning noise that’s almost comical, like a single question mark popping up above  his head. 

Dew smacks his ass. “Shove up, big boy, it’s my dick’s turn to be inside that tight hole.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Feel free to ignore this… but any further (descriptive) thots on what the first time Ari calling reader Mrs Levinson would be like?!

I just can’t get the thot of tender love making out of my brain after reading the 3+1!

Please no pressure at all! Just wanted to let you know how much this Ari lives rent free in my brain 😵‍💫💙

Ari Levinson x bestfriend!Reader (now wife) from Bedrock and Blueprints series

woah. so. good lawd, i got all up in my own feels for a while and shrank my world down to just reader and this guy:

An expansion of the the last part of this. Warning for sexy times in the most loving way. MINORS DNI. WC 1.3k

A/N: holy sh*t. don't @ me if you hate this and hate terrible puns because 🙈 idk what happened...

Your relationship keeps evolving.

You started as distant acquaintances, sharing a friend but not much else. Soon, though, you and Ari found common ground and mutual respect. Slowly, the two of you learned more about each other and grew comfortable, playfully jabbing at each other's bad habits and blind spots.

You only ever wanted the best for one another.

It took a long time--many people would say too long--to WANT one another, and old habits die hard.

The strangest part of your wedding day is how easy it is to fall into the 'friend' pattern again. You're executing a planned day, hosting guests in your home, coordinating care of your baby. Ari's helping. He always does.

The ceremony is short and sweet, the party after a simple barbecue. It hardly feels...special.

On the other side of the lawn, Ari shows a few of your coworkers Rachel's favorite face he makes, and your daughter howls in joy, grabbing at Daddy from her perch your cubicle-mate's arms.

They're too far away to hear, but you can read Ari's body language pretty well after a decade.

What's wrong, honey? You love looking out at a crowd.

See? See all these people? They're here for you. For us. For...

Ari's eyes meet yours, his bottle of beer becoming an anchor in his outstretched hand. He beams.

...mommy.

You give a tiny little wave just as he gets ambushed by a few more guests cooing over Rachel. Ari is tall enough that you can see his gaze never leaves you, even when he's surrounded, even when he mutters an answer to a question, even as he pats shoulders and backs until he's out of the throng.

His radiant smile washes over you like the warm breeze on this perfect day. His feet land in time with thuds of Boyd and Dimitri battling it out on the cornhole boards, and the women flanking you twitter appreciative giggles as if putting voice to your heart's fluttering.

Ari is, well, damn fine to look at.

"Hey," he breathes heavily once making his way to you. "You wanna--" he gestures behind you to the house "--for a sec?"

"Oh, sure." You scramble to think what more could be missing from outside. Are the drinks running low? Is the grill ready for the next round of food? Does Rachel need a toy or maybe a hat?

He leads the way to open the door for you, and that's when you notice Ari's starting to sweat through the t-shirt he changed into after the ceremony. He's never been a fan of the penguin suits. As he puts it, "they rent them for a reason. Nobody wants to own one of these."

Whether for the entertainment or just to cool himself off, you assume Ari's heading for the kitchen and turn accordingly before an arm snaking around your waist hauls you backward.

"Not so fast, gorgeous," he snips in your ear, a familiar playfulness in the words warming down your spine.

"What are you doing, Ari?" you laugh, letting him man-handle you down the hall to the bedroom.

He touches you down gently beside the door and shuts it behind him quietly. Those pearly white teeth and bright blue eyes keep shining.

"Just taking a minute," he whispers, stepping closer, dragging his finger around your ear to move a bit of stray hair, "just for us."

His focus holds yours for a long time. The rough pad of his thumb traces the height of your cheekbone. A sheen of perspiration glistens on his temple. His flush glows pink even on the skin between beard hairs. Ari's tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip.

Mixed with the muffled sound of your party outside, it's hard to tell his breathing has changed, but when your own eyes stop roaming the rest of his face, you see welling tears.

"Sorry, I don't know why..." Ari's cracking voice trails off. He sniffs and plants his hands against your hips to steady himself.

It makes your head spin.

"Sorry I took so lo--" but you don't let him get the words out.

Friends don't let friends cry over wasted time, no, because none of it was wasted. Learning about each other is necessary. Respecting one another is crucial. Laughing at the little things and the stupid things is essential. Everything happened just as it should.

You pour your approval into the kiss, tossing your arms around his neck and climbing him like the steadfast, rooted tree he's become, the centerpiece he is in the forest of your life, and Ari weathers the assault with gusto.

He sways with that changing wind of desire to lay you on the bed, shading you with his broad body and dangling hair, cocooning you both in your own little world, hot and heavy and light as a feather.

"I love you," he says as his wide palm explores up your skirt. "I love you," he says as two fingers move your panties out of the way. "I love you," he says as he discovers just how long you've been waiting for this touch.

"I love you," you repeat, undoing the fastening of his shorts. "I love you," you repeat, pushing them to the ground. "I love you," you repeat, taking his length in your hand.

"Please, Ari."

He hisses in tortured excitement. "Yeah?" In a flurry of fabrics, he's yanking your skirt around, tucking your leg up high over his waist as he climbs on the bed, too. "You want me, gorgeous?"

You like how much he leans into your new nickname; he's tried to ween himself off calling you 'kid' now that Rachel exists.

"Need you." Your words sound whiny and desperate because they are. "Need my husband."

The groan Ari lets out would wake the neighbors. Thank g-d there's a party outside...

He's so careful entering you, giving you time to stretch for him, giving him time to listen to every sated breath you both take. He pulls down the zipper at your side and peels your dress back, further exposing you. He loves how sensitive your nipples are since having a baby, but he also knows how much you hate these bras. He takes a moment to unhook you and fling that shit across the room, relishing your happy sigh of freedom.

"There's my wife," he chokes out, propped on his hands above you, surveying the bare beauty before him. His shirt is loose and wrinkled from where you've been gripping it for dear life. The shimmer of tears is back in his eyes--just for a second--until you bring him down to kiss again.

Once fully sheathed inside you, Ari sets a rhythm to mirror your whole relationship: slow and playful. He works to make you laugh, to make you fight him just a little bit because he's being silly. He flicks at your nipples and mouths at your shoulder. He only has one care in the whole world and for all time until--

Ari growls into your neck when there's a knock at the door.

"Just took the last bottle out of the fridge for Rachel, dearie. Thought you should know," Momma Joe's sweet old voice vibrates through, but you hear her footsteps fade quickly.

"'Spose that means I need to pump..." You toss your arms out in defeated frustration.

"Nah-uh," Ari shoots back, gathering you into a firm hold, pressing himself that much deeper inside you. He drapes that bubble of attention over you again, intent and adoring. "Right now? Right now you're mine, Misses Levinson."

He rolls his hips back, cock inching out of you, covered in your slippery arousal.

"And I need to pump--" he thrusts forward, the heft of him making your head loll back on the sheets "--again...and again...and again..."

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @royalwriteroftheuniverse @jamneuromain

[mushyblushyredhead]

‧₊˚ Random Tword Thot ‧₊˚. ✧

Sooo I rewatched the Alien movies this weekend to get myself hyped for the new Alien: Romulus movie, annnnd while watching the spooky space chaos…hhHHH the canon event of yoinking another fandom into my fluffy tk trash brain has BEGUN! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

IMAGINE THIS!! Facehuggers with teasy claws and feathery tails that glomp you and tickle you silly, refusing to let go until they’ve had their fill.

Chestbursters and that wiener snake thing from Prometheus that slips through your clothing and tk attacks your skin until you’re on the ground in hysterics. Super slippery, hard to remove from clothing because they’re cheeky little sh!ts.

And finally, Xenomorphs but they’re actually just big playful tickle monsters that love to pin you down and tickle you all over with their claws and feathery tail until you're tired out, and then snuggle you for a nice cuddly nap afterwards. (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

…right? Yeah? Anybody with me? (*^^*)

Stay tuned cuz Imma make an AU on it anyway! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)✨

[dameronscopilot]

Any personal headcanons for any character you are just itching to talk about? Love your writing, babes ♥

Thank you, anon 🧡! I've been dying to talk about the Moon Boys, so I've gathered some of my thoughts thots.

Jealous Moon Boys (NSFW)

Steven Grant x f!reader, Marc Spector x f!reader, Jake Lockley x f!reader

You meet a lot of people in your line of work as a freelance photographer, which aligns well with your extroverted personality. However, sometimes your Moon Boys tend to get a bit jealous over the various things that your job entails.

Content: FILTH, NSFW 18+, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, tit fucking, cum eating, oral sex, allusion to a lactation kink, anal sex, choking kink, facial, daddy kink, cum swapping, rough sex, dirty talk, masturbation, making (private) porn

Occasionally, the museum contracts you for photoshoots for their website when new collections come in. Steven's always delighted to see you while he's working, but he's less than pleased by the way the head curator always hovers over you and stares at your ass. However, after the first time that you decided to pick the lock to the creepy curator's office and texted your boyfriend to come meet you in there... Steven loves nothing more than to get sweet revenge by spreading your legs open and running his fingers through your slick folds before fucking you right there on the curator's desk.

If it's not the curator, it's the security guards, many of whom tend to flirt with you as if they're not all aware that you're Steven's girlfriend. When Steven's particularly worked up and frustrated over it, you'll toss him discreet look over your shoulder before heading down one of the building's dark, deserted hallways (and then he'll eagerly unbutton your blouse to get his mouth on your tits, murmuring, "These are mine," in between eagerly sucking on your nipples.)

(If there's time, you'll normally drop to your knees for him so he can slot his throbbing cock between your spit-soaked breasts, rutting against them until he's spurting cum all over your face. And if you happen to miss a spot cleaning up, he'll choke when he watches you reach out and swipe a finger across your collarbone right there in the middle of the museum floor, quickly placing the digit against your lips to lick off the remainder of his sticky seed.)

Though you're happy to walk most places in the city, Jake prefers to pick you up and drop you off in the cab when he can, especially when you're working late shooting a wedding reception. If he gets to the venue early, he'll normally take a peek inside of whatever hall its at, mainly because he loves to see your concentration as you work. But also because he knows you're beautiful, and he knows how handsy drunk guests can get once you're off the clock and packing up to leave. Sometimes you'll briefly play into the interactions for a moment when you know Jake is across the room watching, if only because you know riling him up means you'll find yourself bent over the hood of his taxi in a quiet parking lot shortly after, his hand muffling your cries as he pounds his cock into you.

You were with Marc for years before you finally met the other two, and normally, he's the most difficult to shake. Whereas Steven still tends to feel doubtful of himself sometimes and Jake has a possessive streak, Marc is reasonable. Relaxed. Confident.

But every so often, when he hasn't had a chance to front for an extended period of time or if he's been busy on back to back missions in the suit, Marc's on edge. He cherishes his time spent with you. So when you happen to run into overly friendly past clients that find the need to send a fancy drink over to your table when you're out on a date, well, he's not a fan of the interruption (or the blatant ignorance to the fact that your boyfriend is sitting right there).

(And well, if you maybe play it up some more by going over to cheerfully say hello, it's only because you're well aware of exactly what you're in for afterward—shoved up against an empty bathroom stall [fancy bathroom be damned, Marc doesn't give a fuck], your dress hitched up as Marc notches his cock at your entrance before burying himself inside of you. He knows you do it on purpose, because he can feel that your cunt is already slick with arousal. Afterward, once he's finished pumping you full of his release, he'll wink at you as he deftly slides your underwear back on before you can clean up. That way, you'll feel his cum still sloshing around inside of you and dripping down your thighs when you discreetly make your way back to your table for desert.)

Sometimes, your freelance work leads you to the modelling industry, and on more than one occasion, you've picked up an assignment for a men's underwear campaign. After hours of watching you edit zoomed-in images of men's bulges, neither Steven, nor Jake, nor even Marc can handle it.

And so on those nights, your camera will sometimes find itself on a tripod for an impromptu photoshoot directed by your boys. A very private photoshoot that makes gratuitous use of your camera's remote as they all take turns with you.

Once your clothes are off, Steven loves to get photos of you sitting on his face while he tongue fucks your pussy and tightly fists his leaking cock.

(Knowing his complete and total fixation with your tits, one night you decide to take things a step further by kneeling down on a towel on the floor in front of the camera. Steven nearly blows his load on the spot when you begin pouring cold milk straight from the jug all over your breasts. And once he starts desperately sucking on your nipples and lapping up the liquid, it's only a matter of time before he does indeed cum untouched.)

(You get some extra shots of you licking his cock clean afterward, too.)

Jake loves when you let him fuck your ass, and he insists on making sure to get photos of the beautiful, blissed out look on your face when his cock is plunging in past your tight ring of muscle.

(But also, what he really wants are close up photos of your puffy, fucked out hole afterward...and the thick load of cum leaking out of it and down the back of your legs.)

Marc tends to be a wildcard—some nights he wants artsy photos of him fucking you tenderly in the shower as hot steam rises around you. Other nights, he eases his cock into you while you're in his lap, both of you facing the camera as he grasps tightly at your throat with one hand and works your clit with the other.

But one night? One night you surprise him. Because as the camera is getting shots of him penetrating you slow and deep on top of your kitchen table, you whine, "Fuck me harder, daddy." Your hand flies to your mouth when the last word leaves your lips—you hadn't meant to say it out loud. But Marc? Marc fucking smirks and leans down to roughly whisper in your ear, "You want daddy to fill your pussy up with cum, sweetheart?" And when you nod, eyes wide, he pushes down on your lower lip with his thumb and spits in your mouth before fucking you so hard the table skids across the floor and bangs against the fridge.

(Marc makes sure to get a few photos of him thrusting his tongue into your sensitive folds afterward, too, his lips still wet and shiny with cum when he climbs on top of you, one hand cupping the back of your head as he kisses you deeply.)

---

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

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