#early morning smutty thots

[mrsjellymunson]

Having early morning thots about dom!Eddie and his thighs…

You’re absolutely not thinking about dom!Eddie and how he’s so easily got you into subspace just by stroking your hair, using those words he knows work so well and leaving gentle, wet, open mouthed kisses over the back of your neck.

You’re definitely not thinking about how he’s left you sitting on the chair whilst he walks away, standing, naked, sideways on to you, feet slightly apart, looking out of the window, only a few feet away.

You’re definitely not imagining dropping out of that chair onto your knees, crawling toward him, kneeling at his side as you shakily and tentatively run your hands up his shin and calf.

Not about how he languidly lights a cigarette, still looking out of the window, taking slow drags.

Definitely not thinking about how your breath is soft but uneven as you scootch in closer, running one hand over his knee and the other up the back of his thigh, the desire to be close to him morphing into absolute need.

You’re absolutely not imagining your chest brushing the side of his leg, your hands coming up to hold around his strong, solid, hairy thigh, your lips connecting with it in soft kisses, brushing the fur and flesh.

Not how your tongue laps out to taste his skin, moving over the strong muscle, your spit collecting on epidermis and fuzz.

Definitely not envisioning how his throbbing cock, standing to attention and resplendent against his taut abdomen, just above your eye level, is leaking the most delicate, shining drop of precum, and looks the most delicious you’ve ever seen it.

You’re definitely not imagining how you lift your hips and shift position so your knees straddle either side of his foot, and your core rests against the junction of his foot and ankle.

Definitely don’t visualise how your wet kisses to the front of his thigh turn into your tongue laving his muscles and your teeth nipping as you fill your mouth with as much of the taut flesh as you can.

Don’t think about how your hips start to gently rock, giving you a slight but delightful amount of friction where you need it most.

(Or how you think you hear his breath hitch, but you’re so deep you can’t be sure.)

Or how he finally (finally) looks down at you, just briefly, telling you you look so beautiful like this, before his gaze returns to the window.

And you’re definitely, definitely not thinking about how you feel when he states yes, you can touch him now…

[ladamedusoif]

Café Crème

Javier Peña x f!reader (one-shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: ~ 1k

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)

Content/warnings: oral (f receiving); established relationship; Javi enjoys a healthy breakfast; Javi hates embassy coffee; smut; this is literally just smut.

Summary: Your boyfriend Javier likes mornings at your place for more than just your coffee.

Notes: I keep getting sent to horny/self-deprecation jail by @julesonrecord and @lunapascal. Now, while I’m an abolitionist this is at least a productive carceral system because your punishment results in smutty little thots that turn into smutty little ficlets. And then @julesonrecord gives you a title you can’t resist. ☕️

This is my first time writing for Javier Peña. I enjoyed writing this little morning “fun”, please enjoy reading.

Javier Peña loathes what he refers to as “embassy coffee”. Correction: “shitty embassy coffee”.

You learned this early in your relationship. The first time Javi took you out for dinner, he’d savoured the strong black coffee served at the end of the meal. The white coffee cup with its gold trim had looked comically tiny in his large hands.

“God, this beats the fuckin’ pigswill they call coffee at the embassy. Only the Americans could come to Colombia and still serve up shitty coffee.”

You’d added a little cream to your own coffee, stirring as you watched him talk, interspersing sips with deep drags on his cigarette.

“I know somewhere you can get good coffee. Fresh ground beans, French press - definitely not pigswill.”

He looked at you, cocking his head in curiosity. “Oh? Where?”

You’d smiled and arched a brow. “My place, tomorrow morning.”

That was a year ago. With Javier now spending most nights at your apartment, the morning coffee ritual had become a near-daily fixture. Whoever wakes first takes charge. Boil the water. Shower. Grind the beans. Stir. Brew. Press. Serve.

You blink awake first, Javi still sleeping soundly with his body tucked against a pillow. You reach for your favourite vintage silk robe and quietly pad out of the bedroom. Your apartment is in an older building and its layout is eccentric, to say the least: the bathroom is accessed via the narrow, galley kitchen.

You put the water on to boil while you shower, as usual. Washed and wrapped in your robe, it’s not long before the noise of the coffee grinder rouses Javi. He shuffles into the kitchen, dark hair sticking up every which way and a hand scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

He’s wearing an old Texas A&M T-shirt and a pair of the boxers he keeps at your place for the mornings. You’d had to convince him to wear them, arguing that Señora Hernández in the block opposite did not need to see just how, um, gifted your boyfriend was. And especially not at 7.30am.

“Morning, mi amor. Just going to put this on to brew.”

Javi grunts and plants a kiss to the crown of your head as he squeezes past you in the narrow kitchen, hands pressing into the soft flesh on your hips as he heads for the bathroom and his shower. You know him well enough now to know that Javier Peña is essentially non-functional until his shower and coffee.

You place the lid and plunger at the top of the French press jug, and rest your hands on the countertop as you wait for it to brew. You can hear Javi humming lightly in the shower, the scent of your bergamot shower gel gently wafting into the kitchen. The running water stops.

He always looks fucking delicious fresh out of the shower: wet hair combed back, starting to curl up at the ends; T-shirt slightly clinging to the damp skin of his broad torso; jaw freshly shaved and moustache trimmed. You slyly glimpse at him out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to let him realise you’re admiring him so intently.

Fuck. He’s so goddamn hot.

As he nears you, Javi’s scent becomes more obvious and more intoxicating. Bergamot, toothpaste, mouthwash, shaving foam. The heady combination goes straight to your core.

His shoulders are pressed against your back. One arm on the counter, one trailing on your hip and waist, seeking the edge of your robe.

“I know what you’re after.”

You feel the bristle of his moustache against the side of your neck and you moan lightly. A kiss combined with the lightest of nibbles to that sensitive place at the crook of your neck.

“Do you?”

You bite your lip and try to keep it casual, as if you aren’t already getting wet for him.

“Coffee, right? Can’t start your day without it.”

Another kiss, this time to your shoulder where the skin is exposed. You feel those long, thick fingers edging inside your robe and against the soft skin of your tummy, inching to the underside of your breast.

“That’s not the only thing I can’t start the day without.”

You turn to face him, still pinned between his arms but now placing your hands on his forearms. You cock your chin as you meet his gaze, a little defiant, perhaps, but more teasing. More willing him on, asking him to do his worst.

“Oh? What else do you need? What else do you want for breakfast?”

He does that half smile that devastates you, arching an eyebrow as he lifts a hand and trails a finger along the line of the soft, silky fabric that barely covers your chest. “I want…” A soft kiss to your décolletage. “This.”

You can feel your core pulsing now, slick gathering between your legs. Still, you try to retain your composure.

“Anything else?”

He loosens the belt of the robe and lets it fall open, exposing you. Moving one hand along the curve of your waist and lightly grasping the flesh of your hip, he brings his mouth to each of your nipples in turn, swirling his tongue around them, sending your hips bucking upwards. “And I need this.”

You notice that he’s begun to move his way down your body, throwing the robe fully open as you lean back against the kitchen counter.

“What else is on the menu?”, you gasp, feeling like your knees might give way.

He’s on his knees in front of you now, T-shirt clinging to his damp, post-shower body. He gently encourages you to part your legs, before trailing his mouth up the inside of your thighs.

Slowly. Deliberately.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

He finally reaches your wet folds and, looking up at you for a final time, grins. “Best meal of all, cariño.”

Those lips. That mouth. That tongue. On you, in you, sucking, lapping, as if you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

It’s no time at all before you come with a gasp and a shudder, your release soaking him as he moans in delight. With a final kiss to your thighs and belly he pulls himself back up to standing and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself as he wraps you back up in your robe.

“I’ll have that coffee now, if that’s okay, baby?”

[nylwnder]

Congrats on 200! I'm going to have to ask: ☁️ with Rasmus or William? Which Swede do you choose? 👀 (It should be obvious with your url but STILL)

thanks love!!! ouuuuu okay no no don’t think this isn’t hard i love my swedish babies so mf much!!!!!!! ahhdsjjxnakz ahhh okay let’s do this

— rasmus sandin

sandy, my beloved <3 i love this baby so much. i just feel like he’d be so affectionate and cuddly and love you till youre covered with his kisses yk. always tries to make you laugh, will always remember the things you love or the things you hate so he never forgets. spooning after a game, or an afternoon nap, or when y’all fall asleep or even if youre just chilling with each other. always gets you coffee in the morning. like he’ll legit wake up early, run to the coffee shop, comes back, wakes you up and then starts to get ready. hmm i feel like it’d be movie night every night available! pda out in public, maybe not a lot but def hugging, holding hands, kisses here and there. the guys always catch him staring at you when you’re concentrated on something else. he’s just a ball of love for you and i want that consistency sm. oh and he’s so attentive in bed, like making sure you like everything that’s happening, and checking up on you, and it’s such a pure experience every time.

— william nylander

okay it’s obvious i have LOTS of thots about this man. like it consumes me hahaha. if you read my fics about him (and if you’ve read my asks with my anons 😌) you’ll get all the smutty part of this because y’all know that dick is good and he gonna work you so well!!!!!!!!! but anywho,,,,, william andrew michael junior nylander altelius ✨ okay well he’s a lazy boy who will love you till the day he dies because he finds so much comfort in you and like it’s just gonna be an instant connection yk snxnajxbaiwlwosoq. no but he’s so loyal and loving and attentive and passionate and he will do anything for you. like he wants you happy, and healthy and thriving. it’s the best you and it’s his favourite you so whatever you need, it’s not hard at all for him. cuddles in the morning are def the routine. when you need to get up or when he does he refuses to let it happen for at least 10 minutes because he wants those extra 10 with you before whatever chaos the day will hold. kissing u whenever you’re around, make-out sessions are constant. and it’s so hard to not get it heated up especially if there’s somewhere you both need to be or if there’s people around ahah. i feel like his love language is touch so he always wants to be holding you by something at least - whether it’s your waist or your hand or by the small of your back. that’s until you push him away so he gets to hang out with his friends by himself though it consists of a pout and a big kiss before you walk away and hang with the wags. oh and stealing his comfy ass hoodies are a must!! and he loves them on you too. late night shit happens a lot. like if you’re both hungry, you’ll go out and pick the best of whatever is open. night time drives if the two of you need some escape and some fresh air. maybe stargazing a few times. and then yk the other things that happen at night whejhehewhehhehe. you’re both super supportive of each other. like you’re both probably the only people who can lift each other’s mood and calm each other down. like it’s just this understanding of each other. and just so i don’t make this a 1927382837298392829 page book of things, like he’s just be so good with you and you’ll always feel loved and happy.

—

yeah yeah it might seem easy just because of my obvious hints but i feel if i had the opportunity to experience life with both of them, they’d both treat you so well so it’s actually like so similar. but…….. yup…… imma have to go with my boy,,,,,, willy <3 hehe.

[shes-soparticular]

Make Me Run My Mouth

Shawn is adept at being wholesome. You...not so much.

A/N: Just a little thot that crossed my mind. Mostly fluff. Very light references of smuttiness.

Words: 1483

               The sound of his voice coaxes you from sleep, but even in your groggy state you can tell it’s further away that you’d prefer. Stretching an arm across the bed, you hope to land on warm skin but your fingertips meet empty sheets instead. With a begrudging whimper and a yawn, you finally crack an eye open to spot Shawn pacing the corner of the room, phone pressed to his ear. Bathed in the late morning sun streaming through the gauzy hotel curtains, you swear he looks like an Adonis in joggers. An overwhelming feeling of greed rushes through you and if you had even an ounce of additional energy, you’d be across the room tossing that phone over the balcony and dragging your man back to bed. After all, this is your first morning together in over three weeks and you’re not in the mood to share him.

 “Babe, hang up, come back to bed.” You pout, assuming whoever is on the other end of that call can surely wait a few more hours for his attention. His head snaps up at the sound of your voice and although he takes a step back towards the bed, he puts up one finger to signify you need to be patient. Unfortunately, patience isn’t in your vocabulary. This is exactly why you drag the sheets downward to flash a nipple at him, a cheeky smile playing across your face. You still can’t hear exactly what he’s saying from that distance, but you notice him choke on his words at the sight of your naked breast and you know the call has to be on its final legs. The only problem? You can spot the tension in his jaw and the way he’s rubbing at the bridge of his nose, it’s obvious this isn’t an entirely positive conversation. A pang of sympathy shoots through your chest and you say a silent prayer that he’s not being called away for some last-minute appearance or rehearsal. The team had promised that the two of you would get this day all to yourselves and they’re going to catch your hands if that promise is broken. As much as you need this day, you know he needs it tenfold. He’s had to be on almost twenty-four hours a day since tour started and you know how much he’s looked forward to a lazy day of hotel sheets and room service with your fingers in his hair. After another minute or two of listening to the mystery voice on the other side of the phone, he finally hangs up and shoots you a look. It’s an odd mix of frustration and amusement, his stare intense but his mouth struggling to hold a smile at bay. Finally, he starts a slow saunter back towards the bed, shaking his head as you lock eyes.

 “Andrew is so pissed off at you.” There’s exasperation in his tone but the smile is only spreading further across his face. “Do you recall what you said to the fans in the airport last night?” He stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at you, eyes cruising between your eyes and your exposed skin.

Mulling over his question, you try to retrace the events of the prior night. Selfishly, you let your mind replay all of the sweaty green room sex before actually getting to the point at hand. The airport, the airport, what did you say in the airport? You’d arrived into Barcelona after the worst flight of your life. Between being stuck on the runway in Toronto for two hours and missing your connecting flight out of London, you’d been traveling for a good 14 hours. Considering that the flight was the only thing standing in between you and seeing your boyfriend for the first time in WEEKS, it had felt like traveling through Dante’s nine circles of hell rather than simply flying coach transatlantic. When you’d finally stumbled off the plane, looking wild eyed and stressed to delirium, you hadn’t really expected to run into any of Shawn’s fans. For one thing, you were still getting used to even being recognized to begin with. Usually, you were able to stay under the radar but you had made the incredibly stupid mistake of posting to your Instagram story from the gate at Heathrow. So as you collected your suitcase from baggage claim, there were a handful of girls recording you from a distance, ready to pounce with questions about Shawn. Normally, you’d give a small wave and dodge them as quickly as possible but being that you were clearly being punished by every higher power on this, the worst of travel days, your bag was the very last one to shoot out. By then, the group of girls had gotten bold and approached you, iPhones outstretched. Just as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and were ready to make a mad dash for the cab line, one of the girls gathered the courage to ask a fairly innocent question. What are you most excited for joining Shawn on tour?

Shawn clears his throat to snap you out of your thoughts. The tension has dropped from his features, but his arms are crossed, waiting for your explanation. Suddenly, you feel like a puppy that overturned the trash, your owner making you acknowledge the cute little mess you made. “Well?” In that moment, it rushes back to you and you throw your hands up to cover your face. “Okay, so you do remember saying you were most excited to get ‘dicked down’ to a group of teenage girls. There’s nothing else you could have said?” He reaches down and carefully pulls one of your hands from your face, wanting to ensure you see his amusement.

“Jesus. You don’t understand, I was so fucking tired and absolutely done with the day. I had just spent hours exercising my filter on the plane as the elderly couple next to me regaled me with stories about every trip they’ve ever been on.” You let out a dramatic sigh, pout lip protruding even further. “I couldn’t help myself.”

With yet another shake of his head, he crawls back into bed next to you, hand slipping beneath the sheets to rest on your bare hip. “Babe…you cupped your hands around your mouth and shouted it.” The laugh he’d been holding back finally bursts from his chest, deep and unbelieving. “Who does that?”

You. You do that. You’ve spent a quarter of a century becoming unapologetically yourself, the kind of woman unafraid to speak her mind and never above cracking a crude joke at the worst possible moment. Andrew may not understand that, the label may not understand that, the world may not understand that, but you know Shawn does. And you know he’ll gladly fall on the sword anytime your dirty mouth digs a hole for the both of you. That doesn’t mean your behavior should be completely excused, the last thing you’d ever want is to hurt his career in anyway. You’re here to support him, not to create extra headaches and subject him to verbal lashings from his management.

“I am so sorry, really. I know better. I should never have said that.” You bring your hands to his cheeks, thumbs brushing across his early morning stubble. “I’ll take an apology tour. I’ll grovel to Andrew today. Whatever it takes, I’ll fix it.”

Strong hands pulling you closer, he shakes his head slowly. “Truth? I fucking love that you said that.” One hand snakes across your skin to grab a hold of your ass, giving the cheek a rough squeeze. “Only my girl would say some wild shit like that to fans.”

This time, you let out a relieved laugh, bumping your nose against his in the process. “So you’re saying I have full authority to run my mouth?” Eyebrows wiggling, you grind yourself into his joggers, more than ready for those to be peeled off.

“That’s not exactly what I’m saying, you’ve gotta keep the thirst at a somewhat appropriate level or you’re going to give Andrew a stroke.” His lips brush yours and you know you’re forgiven. “But please don’t ever change. I love this mouth of yours, even when it gets me into trouble. Maybe especially when it gets me into trouble.” He seals the statement with a deep kiss, goosebumps raising on your skin as you hitch one leg over his. Just as you’re about to get those joggers out of the way, his phone buzzes loudly from across the room, vibrating incessantly.

Barely pulling your tongue out of his mouth, a disappointed sigh escapes you. “You should probably get that, huh?” Surprisingly, instead of detangling himself, he rolls on top of you, keeping your bodies firmly pressed together.

“Hell no. I’m busy dicking down my girlfriend.”

tagging @fourtristattoos for boyfriend!week