wiltedwilloww

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The paint job is a little crude, but we think it gets the idea across.

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clone trooper echo (ct-1409) + text posts

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This screams clones to me

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Bath Time

Summary: nothing relieves you of stress like bath sex with Nanami Kento Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: porn with little plot, fingering, dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, choking

“Come here, sweetheart. The bath’s perfect.”

You’ve had a long day — your boss was mean, blaming you for a missing file, your team were especially incompetent today, you dropped your sandwich and stubbed your toe on the freaking coffee table when you were settling down at home. It's like being stood on the edge of a cliff, having been shoved at every turn until there's nowhere left to go.

But Nanami Kento, being the best husband ever, saw the tension in your shoulders and the strain in your smile immediately. He held your face in his soothing hands and kissed your forehead, letting you know he’ll run you a bath and all you could do was insist he bathe with you. 

And, of course, he didn't turn down the invitation.

“Oh, Ken,” you moan as you submerge half of your body under the weather and lean back into his chest with his legs cradling yours. Hair tired up, you’re completely bare, skin to skin, and the steam is filling your vision. The hot water is amazing but you’re still tense, burrows furrowed as you think about all the things that went wrong. 

He hums, cupping water and letting it cascade over your body. “You must have had a long day, my love.”

“You have no idea.”

Kento grips your shoulders, fingers pressing and kneading in small, circular motions. His thumbs are working out the kinks and knots in your muscles, grumbling in disapproval over how overworked you are. You feel ripples of pleasure and relief washing over you, the water lapping gently around your bodies as you sink deeper into the bath, leaning further into his warmth. 

His hands explore lower, tracing the dips and divots of your collarbone, feeling and tracing in an intuitive rhythm. Years of love and devotion and faith have been buried in his bones; he knows exactly how to touch you so the tension melts away, so your eyelids are left fluttering shut and moans escape you. 

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, so good, Kenny,” you moan out with a smile. 

Pressing soft kisses to your dry hair, he mutters soft confession of love. His soft lips move to your neck, tasting the salt of your skin even through the fragrant soap. A faint lavender smell wisps with the steam, calming your nerves, but truthfully, all you can smell and feel and hear is Kento. 

Always Kento.

He’s being so sweet, so attentive, so kind and you're being very very bad. 

You shouldn’t be pressing your legs together and your nipples shouldn’t be tightening into stiff peaks. And when your hand falls onto his knee, you definitely shouldn’t be sliding it down his thigh, searching for something in particular. 

Although, to be fair, he should not be hardening against your back.

“Now, now, darling. This isn’t about me,” he chastises you, playfully biting your shoulder. 

You groan in complaint. “But Ken...I want to. I want to feel you. I want you inside of me. Please?”

Kento sighs and buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms winding around your waist to hold you close. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to do as you say, even though it would be so easy to just let you have what you’re desiring. You’re sure you’re soaked enough to have him slip in, it wouldn’t be the smoothest entry, but the stretch would be so delicious, like a massage from the inside. 

His hands are gripping your waist tightly but when one of yours pull at his, lifting it to carry the weight of a breast, he doesn’t put up a fight, rather he begins kneading as if he can’t help himself. Then he groans into your skin, thumb flicking your nipples, and you write in his arms.

“Oh, I could never say no to you, could I?”

Turning your head, you meet his lips with yours. It’s a slow, sensual kiss. You feel every drop of love from his very soul be swallowed by you and you can only accept everything he has to give. Whilst his hand continues to grope your breast, his other slides down your stomach and disappears between your legs. 

He grunts. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

“I can’t help it,” you coo, “you’re just too good at massages, Kenny.” 

His fingers spread you open, his touching gliding around your clit where he begins rubbing tight, rhythmic circles, mimicking the motion he used on your shoulders. “Oh, that’s so good,” you whimper.

And when his fingers curve into your pussy, your back arches instinctively, hand clutching his wrist like you want to simultaneously keep him close and pull him away. His touch is firm, unyielding as he seeks out your pleasure, curling against the spongy part of your pussy that makes you release a shaky breath. 

“I missed you all day, darling,” Kento confesses. “I’m always ever so lonely when I’m not holding you.”

Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, calloused fingers massaging your insides and solid abs tensing at your back, you're being driven crazy. It’s too much and yet not enough. You want more, you want him inside. Now. 

He knows. 

He can see it in the way your ass is grinding against his hard length and the way you’re thrusting your chest in the air, encouraging him to pinch your nipple. And Kento’s never held anything back from you, never let you down, or left you wanting more. So, he lifts your hips, the water sloshing with the movement and you sink down on his cock.

“Here you go, beautiful,” he groans. “Take it all in, alright?”

Just as you had anticipated, the stretch is magnificent and you’re whimpering, nails digging into his thighs, the muscles there flex as he grunts. He’s sliding in with just the right amount of friction to leave you panting and when you bottom out, his hand flies up to your throat, holding your head close. The ceiling is all you can see as your mouth falls open in a perpetual moan.

Squeezing slightly, he steals your breath just as he thrusts up, heavy balls slapping your clit. You almost cum right there and then. 

“Ah, Ken!”

His mouth descends on yours, gulping every muttering of his name you’re feeding him. The water is sloshing around, moving with every thrust you make down his length, and when he rubs your clit again, bubbles form, frothing. Tiny droplets are clinging to your arms, and you can’t tell whether they’re from the bath or whether they’re beads of sweat. 

“God, you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he rasps, hand tightening around your neck. “I love you so much.”

Finding the energy to giggle, somehow, you tease, “Me or my pussy, Ken?”

“Both.” He emphasises his answer with a kiss to your temple, a smile pressed to your skin.

When he gives you a combination of a squeeze of your neck, a thrust up inside your wet walls and a pinch of your clit, you cum. Body tensing and back arching, you explode on his cock, an elongated moan reaching his ears and fuelling his own orgasm as you clench down on him painfully. 

“I love you so much, Ken!”

“God! Always so fucking tight, darling.”

Thick ropes of hot cum paint your insides as you both ride out your highs, and you’re groaning and holding each other tightly, afraid to slip and lose the warmth you’re emanating. 

Eventually, a silence falls upon the bathroom and the water stills to small ripples as you find contentment in each other's mere presence. The day's troubles fade anway and you can't even remember why you were so upset.

His voice is low, breathy and with a slight tremble when he asks, “Feel better, my love?”

You twist your body to kiss him, answering his question with your touch, sloppy cunt pulsing on his softening cock and swallowing the hiss he pushes out as you threaten to overstimulate him. 

"Careful, darling," he murmurs.

You whisper into his lips, “Thank you so much, Ken.”

Tearing up, you place a hand on his heart and rejoice in the galloping there, finding comfort that his beating reflects yours. Shaking his head, he pecks your mouth and with a conviction that makes you all gooey inside, he insists, “You never need to thank me for loving you, sweetheart. I’d do that for free and expecting nothing in return.”

And when he holds you like that, like you’re the most precious thing in the world and no one could ever take you from him, you know he means it. Because at every cliff you've found yourself on, he's the one that brings you back home.

Always.

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darth mail

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J.C Leyendecker study with Captain Rex

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hunter needs a vacation....

((AFTER they pick up omega, crosshair and tech from mount tantiss of course))

Just something silly 🥲, got the inspiration from here (x)

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kiss kiss fall in love

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Does your laptop or your home's central information system have a dataport I can scomp into? Getting through your data protection is going to take a while without one.

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Today we learned that Malice does like to be brushed IF the hairbrush is dripping wet.

She does also hate being wet.

Nonsense animal.

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