#WHATEVER WHATEVER THOSE ARE PROBLEMS FOR ANOTHER DAY

[sinner-as-saint]

john walker x reader

I’ve been thinking thoughts about john walker again… what is happening to me

Themes: smut, switch!john walker, explicit language, praise kink, 

a/n: also i love this stupid scene below sm omg-

I have a feeling he would be down for anything. He wouldn’t mind leading, taking control, or being the dominant one in the bedroom:

“Come here, baby.” He’d called out, manspreading on the couch, patting his thigh for you to come get comfortable on. “Come give me a kiss.” 

And how could you resist that face? That voice? That sleepy, tired look in his pretty eyes. The messy blond hair, the rough beard to match. So you’d go over to him, get on his lap like his good girl. And he’d tell you how pretty you are. 

“Such a pretty girl for me…” he’d whisper into your ear, his beard brushing against your skin, while he slides another finger inside you. “All mine, huh? This is all mine.” He’d get you to moan louder and louder with his gentle, deliberate, slow strokes. “My angel… all mine.” 

John would also be the type of man to just take whatever he wants. He’d be demanding for sure, always seeking you out. Always touching you. Always reminding you how much you mean to him. Always reaching for you, always needing your warmth whether it’s late at night or early in the morning. 

Sleeping next to him would be such bliss because he’d just be so handsy. You’d wake up with his hand down your shorts, or up your shirt, grabbing you and cupping you possessively. Reminding you even in his sleep that you were his. Or you’d wake up feeling soft kisses all over your neck. 

“I want you so bad, kitten. Spread those legs for me.” 

Or he’d straight up refuse to let go of you once he starts. “Just one more, baby.” He’d gasp into your ear, pounding into you even after you were done coming for him. Multiple times. 

“I need some more, angel, give it to me…” 

But I guess, he also wouldn’t mind you taking control, and you telling him what to do:

Maybe he’d be extra sensitive after returning from a mission. He’d be tired, and quiet, and soooo needy because he’d missed your touch for days. He doesn’t even know how he survived not touching you. And now, he was starving and couldn’t even ask for what he wanted. He’d just sulk and give you puppy eyes until you figured it out. 

“Is this what you want, huh?” You’d grab his hand and shove it in between your legs. You’d catch the surprised yet vulnerable look in his blue eyes. He’d be needy. Moments away from begging. “You need it? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” He’d whisper, quietly, like he didn’t want himself to hear it. 

“Yeah?” You’d lean in to whisper in his ear. “What do you need, huh? To fuck me? You want to fill me up? Mark me as yours?” 

“Fuck,” He’d swear, his voice shaky. “Please, please just let me touch you.” His voice cracking in desperation. 

You’d mess with him then. A game of push and pull, giving him what he wanted but not entirely. Maybe you’d tease him for as long as you could until he was limp in bed, mumbling nonsense, his eyes shut and his breathing heavy… 

“Please, please, please,” He’d chant. “Baby…” 

“What?” You’d taunt. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

Or maybe John would be the type to follow instructions with no problem:

You’d find him while he’s with the others, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “You got ten minutes, Walker?” 

And he’d know. He’d just know… he’d know that for those ten torturous minutes in the walk-in utility closet, he’d be nothing but a gasping, whimpering, pleading mess. With his cock in your mouth, your tongue teasing him, and his hands obediently behind his back, wrists trapped between him and the wall behind him. His blond hair a mess with how roughly you ran your fingers through it earlier, kissing him until he was breathless. 

And he’d stand there and take it too. Playing by your rules, coming only when and if you’d let him. He’d moan so pretty for you. His voice strained and quiet, breathy moans that drove you insane. 

He’d react so well to praises too. 

Smiling to himself each time he’d make you come.

“You okay, baby? Can I make you come again?” 

Or feeling all happy and proud each time he’d fuck you to sleep. 

But mostly, your praises would make him weak during sex

“Yes,” You’d gasp, squirming under him as he fucks you nice and deep. “You feel so good, my handsome man…” 

“Baby,” He’d plead, tensing up at the praise and looking down at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “Please, I can’t hold it much–,” 

“Yes you can,” You’d argue, caressing his face. “Just a little longer, and then you can come, I promise, okay?” 

He’d groan and go back to fucking you, riding that edge for as long as he can before making a mess all over you. His cum all over your thighs and abdomen. “Fuck, baby…” He’d whisper, shoving his face into your neck, his body clinging to yours, “I’m sorry I made a mess.” 

He'd probably kiss his way down your body again, seeking your taste, wanting his mouth in between your legs, wanting to make you come again, not even bothering about the mess he just made.

"I want more, baby... just some more, please."

—

a/n: help me. I did not choose to come to this town– this is [looks around] this is not even my town i’m just visiting i promise [sobs] call bucky and tell him to pick me up pls

[scoops-aboy86]

🧜‍♂️ Delayed Inheritance, pt 5

(pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4; also on ao3)

Eddie isn’t entirely sure how he got from bobbing along between swells at the surface to holding hands with the most enchanting creature he’s ever seen. A Prince, even. Of the land and the sea, somehow, as if simply one of those didn’t make him unattainable enough. All signs point to Steve being drastically out of Eddie’s league, and yet… Whenever their eyes meet, he feels like there’s this connection there. Steve may be swept away by the current of his far grander life at any moment, sure, but for now they’re just two young mermen circling the outside of a sunken ship that’s so teeming with kelp and ocean life it’s like it’s own little forest.

Holding, as previously mentioned, hands.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Eddie is saying, “but it’s so cool inside, you have to see.” With a squeeze of his hand and a grin thrown over his shoulder, Eddie adds, “And I know it’s technically a wreck, but she’s plenty safe, Stevie, I promise.”

The other mer squeezes his hand back as they continue to slow their approach to a reasonable speed, bunching up against Eddie a little because he’s still catching on to how to move in the water. “Thank you. I appreciate all you’re doing to help me, even though I’m just some guy you saved from the beach.”

Eddie’s free hand tugs absently at a lock of long hair. “It’s no problem, really. Don’t mention it.”

He doesn’t look at Steve while speaking because he wants Steve to mention it. But once everything is settled with this Nancy situation, there will be two kingdoms vying for Steve’s attention, and the guy should at least get to experience some of what the underwater world has to offer. A little natural beauty to offset the shock of uncovering an unexpected origin story of maternal loss, paternal betrayal, almost two decades of lies, and separation from his intended mate.

“It’s the most real thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Steve insists earnestly, washing away all of Eddie’s wandering thoughts and attempts at better intentions. “We met completely by accident but you knew just who I needed to talk to. And maybe you can’t help with whatever happens next, I don’t know, but you’re helping me pass the time anyway. And you call me Steve, and Stevie… I thought nicknames are something people earn, but you gave them to me right away. That’s really nice, Eddie.”

And, well. What is Eddie supposed to say to that? Oh, I went with Steve because I kind of blanked out partway through you introducing yourself because you’re so attractive and that’s all of your name I could remember for sure, sorry! Absolutely not, just like he’s not going to mention that that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told him.

“You just seem like a Stevie to me. Would you rather—“

“No, I like it,” Steve replies quickly. “Just—does this mean we’re friends?”

Eddie fights the urge to stop and curl his tail around Steve’s, because that’s way too intimate for an acquaintance of less than a day. Even though he knows Steve has no way of knowing that; Eddie would know. But it’s kind of heartbreaking to hear the caution and eagerness tumbling over each other in his voice. There’s no way someone like Steve doesn’t have other friends, is there? Even Eddie has friends, and he’s bottom of the crab bucket. And if not, he almost wants to tell Steve he should have higher standards.

“Of course we’re friends,” Eddie replies, more vehemence bleeding into his tone than intended but he’s selfish, grasping. (What does he think is going to happen? That Steve will take him along when he moves on to his bigger, better, princely life? Yeah, right.) “My rescues come with guaranteed friendship for as long as you can stand me, no exceptions.”

“That’s true,” pipes up another voice, making both of them start in surprise.

Eddie knew there was a chance some of his friends might be around, even though they didn’t have plans, and that’s… that’s fine. Cutting into his time alone with Steve, but he should be content with whatever he can get, really. He lets the annoyance go and stretches out his tail to wave his fins at Jeff, a dark-skinned cecaelia who returns the gesture with a few tentacles from where he’s peeking through the curtain of green that sways in front of the hole in the ship’s hull.

“Eddie likes to collect lost guppies,” Jeff continues, then gives Steve a curious once-over. “I don’t recognize you… You from around here?”

“I… sort of am?” Steve ventures. He glances at Eddie with wide eyes, still clutching at his hand uncertainly.

The sea might be his world by heritage, but he doesn’t know it—not like Eddie does. Something puffs in Eddies chest at being looked to for guidance. “It’s a long story. Jeff, this is Steve; Stevie, this is my buddy Jeff. We go way back.”

A school of small, silvery fish ribbon their out from where Jeff is holding the kelp aside, looping briefly around Steve so suddenly that he lets out a surprised, laughing little woah. And, okay, maybe Eddie is kind of entranced by the open delight on his face for a slightly noticeable amount of time. But of course Jeff catches on and pokes at Eddie’s tail fins with a smirk while Steve is still distracted.

Eddie brushes it off and clears his gills with a you saw nothing glare. “Are the other guys around? It’s kind of a long story and Steve’s kind of in the middle of a really long day, I don’t want to have to go over everything more than once.”

“Yeah, they’re here.” Jeff ducks back inside for them to follow.

As soon as they’re alone again, Steve leans in close and whispers, “What should I tell them?”

“Whatever you want,” Eddie whispers back, stunned by the sudden proximity and almost going invertebrate-soft with longing. If wishes were fishes he’d close that small distance right now for a kiss, curl around Steve, never let him go… “It’s your story to tell. And we’re the local losers and freaks, no one’s gonna judge you for anything.”

Steve nods, then hesitates.

”Anything, Stevie,” Eddie adds, “really.” Almost wonders, for a second, if Steve regrets the loss of time alone together. If he feels the connection too.

“Can you… teach me how to greet them properly?” The look on his face is nervous and absolutely screams I want your friends to like me. I don’t want to make a mess of it again.”

He’s got a mate lined up, Eddie reminds himself firmly while taking a steadying breath. He’s sweet and he’s pretty and forget out of my league, he’s already spoken for.

“Sure.” Eddie smiles—it’s so easy to smile around Steve, no matter what else is going on in his wistful heart. “If you need an etiquette tutor down here, Stevie, all you had to was ask.”

“Not a tutor,” Steve corrects with surprising force. But before Eddie can get whiplash, he smiles back and adds, “We’re friends, right? You teach me this and I can teach you about handshakes, because that’s what friends do: help each other out.”

Yeah, Eddie is sure now that this prince (or, more specifically, the rapidly growing crush he has on Steve) is going to be the death of him.

(also on ao3)

Tag list (ask to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @sofadofax @sweetiepeabob @wheneverfeasible @yesdangerpls

@hiei-harringtonmunson @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @ape31 @aceadoxography

@home-and-having-tea

[serensama]

A Word with Friends: Of Houses, Hearts and Hidden things

Ahhh finally, this thing has a name.

Thank you @hedwigoprah you wondrous creature, I am a fan of this amazing game and this week's word. I may not use it as often as I should but gee when I read it in something, I do enjoy it quite a lot hahah. My thanks to @woundedsoul12 and @jenn2d2 who tagged me in their awesome work too <3 This week got away from me (yes, again, I have a problem) at 3.1k so yeah- LONG POST.

Read on Ao3

Avarice

1. Excessive or inordinatedesire of gain; greed for wealth 2. Inordinate desire for some supposed good.

---

Enduring the Fifth Talon’s cane was nothing; the man was barely putting half of his strength into his hits. He had almost taunted Viago by saying that Caterina could still hit harder than him, but thought better of it; it wasn’t as if he wanted the man to hurt him more. 

Illario had been prepared for his reaction, knowing what would happen when they were found out; it was a certainty that someone would notice them. It wasn’t even cloudy when Lilya led him by the hand through the front door of her shared home with Viago. He knew the moment he agreed to follow what was to come. It was only a matter of time.  

“What were you thinking?!” the older man hissed, striking him again out of fury. “Don’t! You can’t talk yourself out of this one, Dellamorte. You knew I tolerated this idiocy because it made her happy. If you’re deluded enough to think I wasn’t aware of you sniffing around her since the Antiva City mission, you’re more of a fool than I thought. I let this happen because some part of you makes her light up, and I am not yet completely without mercy. But to protect what is mine, I will be. Do not force my hand, Illario. This ends, now. And for Maker’s sake, put on your underwear man, and get out of my House.”

Illario knew that things would be set in motion, and he would either have to accept and live with them, or be incited to rally against them - and he knew which he intended to do. He was well aware of what people thought about him. That he was capricious. That he was materialistic, callous, shallow, and only liked to gamble, duel and fuck. They were not wrong. Those things were all true to a degree, he was as they said- but he was also more. And it was times like these that he was grateful for people continuously underestimating him. 

He put on his underwear and picked up his leathers, reaching into the pouch to pull out a velvet drawstring bag, about to throw it to Viago, but the Talon squinted at him with distrust and shook his head. “Open it, and put whatever is inside on her dresser,” he ordered, not foolish enough to catch something thrown at him by another assassin. 

The younger man sighed and pulled at the strings, then tugged at the fabric to show Viago a small, glass bottle. Even from across the room, Illario could see the way recognition fell upon his face, his eyes glued to the crystal atomiser. He knew what it was. He knew the effort it took to get one, the time and the expense. What people in his position meant by giving someone a bottle of bespoke perfume. 

“Do you even know if she feels the same way about you? Are you so sure in your affections that you would doom two Houses to bloodshed? Do you want to see Lilya hurt?” he asked, still staring at the bottle.  “There are only three certainties in my life, Fifth Talon,” Illario replied, pulling his pants on one leg at a time. “That I will become the First Talon, that I will one day die, and that I will do both with Lilya by my side.” Viago said nothing or deigned even to give the other man another look, moving past him to pick up the bottle before he left the room. 

Illario jumped out of Lilya’s bedroom window, easily hopping down from the second-floor drop. He hoped she liked her perfume and understood the meaning behind such a gift. Viago certainly had. Effortlessly, the Crow bounded over the rooftops and made his way to the building where all the chatty little fledglings congregated, smirking to himself. He didn’t care if he forced Viago’s hand or Caterina’s- he would suffer every blow for both he and Lilya, and then he’d return the favour to them tenfold.  ---

He had never wanted for anything. He’d been a happy enough child- except during his time with Caterina. Even then, he couldn't claim he had it harder than any other Crow. The hollowed out Villa was miserable, Caterina even worse, but he would never insult his brethren like that. Not after he’d borne witness to the training facilities in their capital. 

When he became a full Crow and was deemed worthy to be treated as an actual member of his house again, he gained access to luxuries that would make even the most decadent nobles burn with envy. In a life where everything lay at his fingertips, he regularly indulged in new and exciting pleasures: the finest wines, custom-made livery, and exclusive experiences that could only be afforded by those with the right connections and obscene amounts of coin. And for a time, it worked- a patch over the gaping wound in his chest that never seemed to close, no matter what he did.

He knew there was more to life, even if others thought he cared only for his superficial diversions and his relentless desire to succeed Caterina. But his true avarice did not lie in ambition alone. It ran deeper. It was a hunger to be seen, to be wanted, to be accepted. Perhaps even loved… if he dared admit it.

So imagine his surprise when, after years of searching, he found something that made the ache subside. He still remembered the first time he saw her; he had taken a contract in Antiva City when he happened upon someone who made him stop dead in his tracks. She stood quietly in the corner, stoic, more focused on the children in front of her than on the senior Crow who had entered the training yard. Curious, he stopped one of the trainers from his House and asked about her.  “Hey, Gianni, who is that?” 

“Who?” 

“That one over there, with the black hair past her waist,” he grinned, unable to tear his eyes off of her for more than a couple of seconds. Gianni scanned the yard and scoffed, rolling his eyes at Illario and laughing, thinking the Master Assassin was merely joking. When Illario did not join in and continued to stare at the woman, Gianni sobered and gawked at him, completely baffled. 

“Are you being serious?” 

“What?” he asked, still watching the girl as she corrected her sparring partner’s grip on their dagger. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you been living under a rock back there in Treviso? That’s Viago’s girl.”  Illario finally tore his eyes away from her and back to his stricken acquaintance, who appeared to be afraid on his behalf. Typical Gianni, how he had managed to survive as a Crow for so long was anyone’s guess. “What, like Viago’s girl or Viago’s fledgling who just so happens to be a girl?”

“Yes.” Gianni sighed and shook his head, utter disbelief plastered on his tattooed face. “She’s the most promising one of the bunch, escorted here by Viago himself about five years ago. Used to come up here every few months to check in with the instructors, but now she’s close to becoming a full Crow, he’s been coming up much more often to check in and mentor her personally.”  Illario whistled and nodded appreciatively. He had never heard of Viago purposely taking time to directly manage any of his House’s fledglings, either he really did have a special interest in her or he was already making moves to be considered for the next Fifth Talon. 

“So, for once, be smart, Illario-” “I am always smart, Gianni-”  “Yeah, a smartass. Viago isn’t someone you cross, he’s actually eerily similar to your grand-”

Illario pinned the trainer with a sharp glare that made the man swallow his words, coughing nervously as he excused himself. And whilst he didn’t pay any heed to Gianni’s words, he did not approach her for years, until they were chosen to take part in the same contract. 

A member from each House had been handpicked by their Talons and sent to Antiva City for a reconnaissance and assassination contract arranged by the royal family. So, everyone was concerned when Viago had his little paramour stand for House de Riva in place of one of the other Master Assassins under his command. They all wondered if it added credence to the rumour that the Fifth Talon was finally tired of the pretty young thing now that Teia Cantori was in the picture. They all looked at her with a mixture of derision and pity- stupid, little girl- a Talon and bastard son of the King was never going to be her means to a happy ending. What truly impressed Illario was that she didn’t let their not-so-subtle snickers or whispers affect her at all; the youngest of their team acting the most mature. It was laughable. 

They had to form two-man cells to complete their missions, and he raised his hand immediately to be paired with de Riva. There was no contention; they all saw her inexperience as a liability rather than the potential for excitement she might bring. Their comrades rolled their eyes at him and sent knowing smirks his way, assuming he was only after one thing- and happily let him chase after her. She had been quick to voice her displeasure at being paired with him. The first words out of her mouth after leaving the meeting were that Viago would kill her for getting partnered with him, and he laughed, flattered, not at all offended that the Fifth Talon had even thought to warn her about him. He found it absolutely hilarious. “Really? Pray tell, please tell me what Viago de Riva had to say about me.”   Lilya eyed him warily but relented, seeing no harm in his knowing. “He told me to keep my wits about you. That there was more to you than what most people saw.”  Well, well, well. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the man. As much as he kept to himself, he certainly did know how to read people.“He also said that when you tried something, and that you would, I had his permission to kill you.” 

Yes, he really was a great judge of character.  

“Oh really, Baby Crow, you think you’d be able to kill me?” he asked, genuinely entertained by the confidence the little chit had. If he weren’t already intrigued by her, it would have been the beginning of his fascination. Lilya shook her head and smiled up at him, her posture relaxed as she stood before him at a polite distance.  “No, of course not, Master Crow,” she said plainly, both maintaining eye contact for long enough for him to realise her eyes were the exact same shade as his mother’s favourite emerald ring. She stepped forward and invaded his personal space, an audacious thing she was, her hands locked behind her back to show that she was no threat, even leaving her front open, practically welcoming him to try to attack her underhandedly. “I know I can kill you.” 

Lilya smirked up at him. The vixen. He didn’t know why, but he believed her, and he knew it said something about himself that it somehow made her more alluring. Illario wasn’t afraid of her threats, no, he was much more concerned with the fact that this small thing had managed to captivate him by doing so little. It was not just because she was stunning, but she, too, had more bubbling under the surface, and he was ever so curious to find out what. 

Illario tapped her on the nose, Lilya crinkling it slightly which amused him to no end- he almost wanted to ask her to do it again. What in Maferath’s bloody balls was happening to him?  

“I look forward to seeing all you can do, de Riva,” his voice huskier than he intended as his eyes roamed down her form.   

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she replied wickedly, “but I’ll make sure you don’t.”   

A challenge. That’s all she was. Just a tantalising challenge wrapped in leather and smelling like the flowers his father would give to his mother whenever he’d return from a contract... What were those flowers again? 

She was about to turn and walk away from him, but she thought better of it and locked eyes with him again. He opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly witty when she returned the favour, and tapped him softly on his nose, stunning him. She grinned and wished him a good night and walked away with a sway he wasn’t sure could be taught. Even by the Crows.

Oh, he was going to have so much fun with her, for however long it lasted between them. 

---

But it didn’t end. 

He had waited for the illusion to fade, for her veneer to dull. Waited for his desire to be sated, for the thrill of the chase to slow down into banal routine, for the smile she drew from him to lose its warmth and become just the practised curling of his lips. But it never happened. Each time he returned, he wanted more. She shone brighter, each touch and taste of her sweeter than the last. Everything- both familiar and new- remained vibrant, intoxicating, and effervescent. His smile for her never faltered, not once.

It was enough to drive him mad, if he weren’t already half-mad from whatever spell Lilya had cast over him.

She cut through all his bullshit, had seen him more bare than anyone and still wanted to be around him. It was unheard of, unthinkable, unbelievable. Yet there she was. She tried to convince him (her, it was always her that needed convincing) that it was just for fun, just good sex, that she enjoyed spending time with him, and it really wasn’t serious. That they were able to walk away at any time, no strings attached. Like good little Crows.

And there they were, four years later, more entwined than ever. Neither knew where to begin cutting away at their attachment without tearing into themselves, only to find pieces of the other still clinging, impossible to remove, without leaving something important behind. There was no clean break for them, only the painful truth that moving on would mean losing parts of themselves they could not bear to part with (each other, they did not want to lose each other).

Illario didn’t know how to go back to the time before she became part of his life. To return to the dull and the dreary- the contracts, the mindless games of craps at the Diamond, and the endless waiting. Always waiting, for Caterina to make up her mind.

How was he supposed to go from sipping cappuccinos at Café Pietre in the mornings, as they sat back-to-back, both of them reading the latest serials from Tevinter... to nothing? From cuddling on a random rooftop, far from prying eyes, watching the skyline of Treviso shift and shimmer as the city changed. From those days when he came back from a contract feeling tainted, scrubbing himself raw, only for the noise in his head to quiet at the gentle brush of her hand through his hair. The sound of her humming, steady and soft, easing a pain he hadn’t even known he carried.

How could he lose all of that?

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t. 

The sound of a carriage drew near, his ears picking up on the horses’ hooves on the street just in time to start moving, his introspection almost causing him to miss her after waiting for her for the last four hours at the least-travelled passage to get to Antiva City. He thanked his gut for knowing the overly paranoid bastard would send his right-hand through there in case there was to be a confrontation, and Lilya was forced to reveal where her real talents lay; there would be little risk of witnesses. 

He threw caution to the wind and leapt between the buildings to descend from his perch, losing his footing when one particularly loose tile slid down the roof, causing the assassin to fall short of his intended landing and almost swearing loudly enough for the carriage driver to hear. Illario crouched low to the ground, pressing himself into the shadows so the man wouldn’t see him as the carriage rolled by. He grabbed onto the railing just behind the driver’s box, and Illario could feel his ire grow at the old man who still hadn’t noticed anything amiss. If the man had been in charge of her safety, Illario would have slit his throat to save the driver from the embarrassment of doing such a poor job.

He was close enough to the door to hear Lilya swearing and cursing his name, and he almost barked with laughter. There he was, dangling like an idiot to see her- and he was probably the last person she wanted to see, especially after he was the reason she’d been sent off on a useless contract. Illario tapped on the driver’s arm; the man jumped at the sudden contact, pulling the carriage to a harsh stop. The Crow flashed his knife at the shaking man and mouthed for him to stay. The driver nodded frantically and dropped the reins to his feet. Illario smiled and tipped an imaginary hat to him.  

“You called for me, Paloma?” he chuckled, opening the door to one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen- Lilya, staring at him with her mouth slightly open and eyes so full of hope that he knew, without doubt, he had made the right choice that day. Following her to her house, risking what could become another Crow civil war, he would do it all again. He would follow her into the Void itself and call it the Maker’s side, so long as she stood by him.

Caterina might never name him as Talon, but he’d be damned if he let her take the one good thing he had left, the one thing he knew was his. She could choke on her pride and the archaic rules that were written in the blood of others; he wasn't giving her up. Not now. Not ever. 

He left Lilya, knowing that she could take care of herself without him or Viago bothering her and hovering on the sidelines. He had to hold up his end and begin his preparations. He didn’t know if six months was enough time for everything he had to do, but he’d do the impossible for her homecoming- oh, it was going to be one hell of a party. 

Softly tagging: @rookamell @mythals-whore @talkmagically @selennes @serstolas @davrinsleftpectoral @thedissonantverses @himluv @hightowerqueen and anyone else who wants to play- im super late this week so I don't know who has been tagged or not TT__TT

[the-boring-distopia]

Okay, something is going on in the Ninth house

And I don't mean the canonical weird stuff that we know about. If the different houses are different planets (plus the sixth and their space station) it means that the inhibitants of Dominicus are under preasures that are detrimental to human life. There is no way that some casual humans can take their daily walk on an other planet and then go to Canaan house.

I don't know what house is which planet exactly but I'm just gonna list the different adaptations one would need to live on the Ninth and how it would be possible to solve the issues that come with them.

(this is a theory post, unhinged speculation ahead)

The Ninth house is probably Pluto, at least that's how I imagine it. They could have created an atmosphere (and an ozone layer?), but Pluto is incredibly dark and cold even with that. We know that they have oxygen generators - whatever that is - but I suspect that oxygen levels on the Ninth are closer to what one might experience on the top of mount everest than what we are breathing. This means that people from the ninth are living in a low oxyigen, low light, cold enviroment where most of us humans from earth would probably perish because of aspiration, frostbite and probably by being weakened by the constant cold. There is another problem, if they don't have an ozone layer - I don't think they do tbh - there will be a SHIT TON of uv radiation. FUV (far ultraviolet range) especially, which is not good for DNA and life in general.

This post will focus on the Ninth house but I might make a speculation post about the other houses (especially the sixth) in the future.

About the cold - depending on what kind of atmosphere they created, this cold can range from "unhabitable" to "harsh winter days" and I think the latter is correct, because Gideon went outside to wait for her shuttle. We know that it is cold and it makes sense that people live underground here: it's easier to stay warm in an insulated chamber than in a house on the surface. But people in cold climates evolved an ability to constrict blood vessels in their skin and only flush it with blood periodically - this helps prevent frostbite and heat loss. This could be something that showed up on the Ninth in ten thousand years, but a more sinister option would be that John/Anastasia somehow tweaked Ninth genetics to have adaptations against the cold. Since Pluto would not be the only planet where this adaptation would be useful, I can see it being done in Dominicus in general. Maybe something like a knot of blood vessels that allows the blood temperature in the limbs to be lower than in the body so they do not loose body heat and their hands can still function. Maybe Ninth inhibitants have reserves of brown fat and thus also raise their body temperature when needed.

The other option is making them resistent to cold and adapting to a lower body temperature but this is complicated for mammals so even if John did give some people ways to fight the cold it was not this kind.

The UV radiation - you could just say melanin but that's not enough here. Having darker pigments helps, but only to a point, so they would have to try something else. Their line of defence against UV would probably still be on the skin surface, that makes the most sense, so if I must guess some kind of "sunscreen" that gets secreated with sweat that catches most of the UV so the melanin can deal with the rest. There are naturally occuring anti UV compounds that could work this way, some of them work way better than melanin actually, but after being exposed to UV rays they are short lived and need to be disposed and replaced at a rate that is only possible if they are on the skin and not in the skin. This would also line up with the face paint, since covering the face would mean it will be less likely to basically get sun damaged in -5 degrees Celsius weather. Most of those compounds are colorless so they wouldn't even be noticeable.

About the low oxygen - this is the part where I question everything, because if John did modify people, he had to modify all of them to a point, because Gideon is not from the Ninth and she is not passing out every five minutes. It would be logical that god, after putting people in the age of spaceships, wanted to have people who can function with low levels of oxigen. If this is the case, I suspect the Ninth and the Sixth would be the most adapted to dealing with air that is low in oxygen. The assumption is that all citizens of Dominicus - depending when John tinkered with this ability, maybe even outside Dominicus - can function in low oxygen enviroment, but the Sixth and the Ninth are probably more efficient and can go longer with less of it without tissue damage occuring. These possible adaptations range from more efficient gas exchange in the lungs to having molecules that can quickly repair damage in cells caused by the lack of oxygen, they might even store super oxigenated blood in their liver like seals do and just shuffle it around their body periodically when needed. The brain and the heart are pretty oxygen hungry organs and they have to deal with that somehow because other organs could be possible "switched off" if needed but the brain and heart must work constantly. There are ways to lessen their use of oxigen but once again it's complicated so lets settle on "they make it work somehow" until I write a theory post about the Sixth.

Bonus point: what the hell are snow leaks?! - writing this post made me think what kind of vegetation could live on Pluto and what is helping it grow exactly. I was ready to jump on the "god did it" idea but then I realised that we do have plants on earth that thrive in low oxygen, low light conditions. They do need UV, sure, but we have already discussed that there is a shit ton of that on the Ninth, so I suspect snow leaks might be... Actually turnips. They can grow in low oxygen, cold and with low nutrient needs, while actual leaks need so much moisture and very fertile soil to grow. Unless god personally came down to the ninth and did something to the leeks I refuse to believe they would ever grow on the Ninth. Sorry for the leek truthers but I'm dying on this hill.

[ysrjune]

can you write dally x uptown girl…..fluff……maybe they’re on the phone after her parents are asleep…….she’s on landline and he’s on a pay phone……and it’s cute….or maybe they’re dancing together…….or something……..

-🌪️

ᯤ ALL OF MY CHANGE, I SPENT ON YOU 〃 . . .

a/n: Yes, I did listen to payphone while writing ts 😝 Also, reader is a soc cuz I feel like it makes more sense? and it basically the same thing saur...

ring—

you didn't let the phone ring another two times in fear your parents might wake up. “Hello?” You smile into the phone, already knowing who it is. “Hey sweetheart~” Dallas's voice calls from the other side. “Hows it going? Did I wake ya from your beauty sleep?” He smirks.

“No, you know I was waiting for your call.” You huff. “Yeah I do.” Dallas responds, now leaning against the walls of the box he was in. He started a conversation about his day. How he ran from the police, met up with the Curtises, and stayed at their house for a little bit just to hang out. Nothing too interesting today. “What've you been up to, ah?” He suddenly asks after a moment of silence.

“I cleaned.. went out with a couple of gals earlier to the diner.” You say. “Nothing like running from the police.” You giggle. Dallas chuckles. “Well, then, you weren't havin' any real fun.” He responds, staring outside. “You can have fun and not be a fugitive, Dal.” Dallas laughs. “Whatever you say, doll.”

More random topics pass by. “I miss you, Dally.” You sigh. Because you're a soc and he's a greaser—you could never be seen with each other. “I miss you too. I could always just sneak over and show ya how much im missin' you.” He says smoothly. Really, you could make that happen, but it was too risky. “Dal, we can't.” You reject. “That blows.” He rolls his eyes. “Come over to the Curtis's tomorrow. Only Soda will be home, and he don't snitch. Plus, he owes me.”

You've only been to that house once. You hardly remembered who even lived there. “But that's so disrespectful! I dont even know the family, and you're gonna sneak me over?”

“Yeah? I dont see the problem.”

“You're a damn fool, Winston.”

The brunette groans and bangs his head gently against the wall. “Well, when's the soonest I can see you? I'm dying here without 'cha.”

“My folks are gonna be out of town for the weekend. it's perfect.”

His eyes light up at that. “That is perfect. I'll be there 'round 6, then.” He sets the time. “Make yourself pretty for me, okay? Prettier than you already are.”

“Stop it..” You blush.

“And wear that perfume you wore last time. Makes me go crazy.”

“Dallas!..”

“Hey, it aint my fault that you got a way of hypnotizing me, baby.” His voice was way smoother than before. You had him feeling things over the phone. The thought of your touch, scent, and pretty eyes really did hypnotize him into an idiot. He's head over heels for you, and sometimes it scares him because he's never been so down bad for anyone.

“Just.. calm down.” You giggle. “Saturday is just a couple of days away. I make sure to do all you asked for.”

“Good. I cant wait to kiss that lipstick off those pretty lips.”

More and more, mostly meaningless conversations pass by. You just wanted to hear each others voices. 15 more minutes on the phone with him wasn't enough.

“Alright doll, I gotta go. I ran out of coins.” Dallas sighs.

“Okay..” You murmur into the phone. “Stay safe..”

“Thats no fun, but I'll try.” He says and hangs up.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne

[squishycat330]

Donnie! I finally did my 2012 & 2018 Donnie mix! (its been 3 weeks and 5 days. . . I’m so sorry)

he’s! Here! He’s finally Here!!!!

another run down, one last time!

In the 2018 series the boys are all different types of turtles, Leo is a Red-eard Slider, Raph is a Alligator-Snapping turtle, Mikey is a simple box turtle and Donnie is a Soft shell turtle (shudders), in the 2012 series Donnie says that he suspects their Common-Box turtles and/or Diamond-Back Terrapins.

So they’re all different turtles and Donnie is by far the most complicated, he’s a Diamond-Back Terrapin and a soft shell turtle. His shell is a mixture of both a normal shell and a softshell, it’s thinner and smoother then his brothers, but harder then a normal softshell, the outer part of the shell is soft wall the inner area is harder his scuts are oddly but consistently shaped and a bit thicker,

his plastron is similar to his shell and is softer as well, it’s more rounded and is flush with his chest/skin (if that makes any since) the plastron and shell blend together similarly

I really like the design I gave in his shell it looks nice, tho is gives off bohemian vibes which isn’t Donnie, it was also much easier to draw it digitally then traditionally, I also drew the traditional one first (because I’d dropped this for a bit). his shell is probably one of my favorites! (More on this in a moment)

Donnie also has a cover/armor for his shell!

It’s made out of recycled Kraang metal since it’s probably pretty durable and strong, he painted it purple because Donnie. It’s got holes for his belt and loops for his Bo-staff, and he’s attached something to his plastron that clips in to place with the pice on his shoulder, he made it after he got an injury to his shell early on, I actually looked up how ‘fixing’ turtle shells work when their injured to understand how it’d go for Donnie and I did end up coming up with something,

the outer bit is stitched wall the inner is sealed with zip ties and ‘command hooks’ or Resin and Fiber-Glass (or whatever that stuff is)

Donnie takes more after the soft-shell with his general shell wall his scuts are supposed to be the Diamond-back terrapin, tho the spotting on his shell I made to match a softshell turtle and how their typical drawn, he’s also a ✨lanky✨ boy and I think it could possibly come from the soft-shell turtle.

he’s so adorable! I love his cute lil face so much!!!

I just really love this drawing! He’s so freaking cute!!! His lil markings and smile! And eyes he’s just so adorable! I love it so much!!!

much like how I did Leo I thought Don having less specks in comparison to his brothers fit him,

I didn’t have to many problems with Donnie drawing wise. . . . (remembers that I had exactly 3 problems with this boy right off the bat. . .)

(yeah the three problems where his side in between his shell and plastron because at the time I hadn’t worked that out yet, the other problem was the fact that he was the only one with a neck. . . Yeah, all of the other turtles are at angles where the neck isn’t visible Donnie’s however (Mr. Soft-shell long neck boy) is and that was annoying for me. . . And I don’t actually remember what the last one was so yeah thanks Don!!!) But~ it was mostly just figuring out how to mix his shell tho, which was vary hard and I had to look up a lot about soft shell turtles, it was a lot more research then I did for the other boys, it was a nightmare looking at all of those softshell turtles. . . .their creepy and kinda disgusting but also vary interesting. . . I don’t know. . .it’s weird. . .

I actually proposed the idea for his shell to a friend who side it was actually really good and provided the idea for his plastron! So big thanks to them!

I also wanted to give him glasses and his goggle like things but I couldn’t figure that out digitally so I didn’t add them I may do that at another point tho since it’s a cute idea!

that’s the last of em! Donnie now completes the 4 turtles collection!

now moving on from that: the thing that finally motivated me to finish Donnie was actually what now goes Along with this which I’ll be working/posting on soon ;> I’d also point out Donnie took about 2h in general, so probably the least out of all of them which is funny,

id also say the first time I got distracted by drawing Donnie was to draw something by brother had suggested and it’s. . . .a disaster stupid funny disaster, then I just kinda never picked it back up and switched to traditional for a bit so yeah sorry Donnie!

Leo: Raph: Mikey:

Miscellaneous:

[marisol-000]

Alright somehow I convinced myself to give it a try and I will now be attempting to make characters discussing what brand of milk to buy interesting💀💀

(Sorry for being weird on your post)

"...Hmm"

"......Hmm"

“..........Hmmmm"

"Alright thats fucking it! What the hell have you been 'HMMM'ing at for the past five minutes?!"

Jekyll didn't flinch, far too used to Hyde yelling over their connected hearing aids by now. And he didn't look away from the fridge wall of the grocery store.

"I'm trying to decide what sort of milk to buy. He muttered, taping his chin. "There's a lot of plant-based choices to consider."

Hyde scoffed, "What you care about your health now? I heard you microwave ramen like every day this week."

Jekyll froze, a sudden blush coming to his face. "Wha-uh- how do you know it's ramen? What if it's just some leftovers I'm reheating?"

He heard Hyde snicker, "For exactly 2 minutes 40 seconds? I know how long ramen takes, I'm no fool."

"Well of course you do. You wouldn't know proper eating if it bit you." Jekyll sniffed.

"Says Dr. Ramen~”

He huffed, deciding to be the bigger person and just move on. "If you must know, I'm having company on thursday. I need to impress a member of the college board, the problem is he suggested I host the dinner."

"So?" Something on Hyde's end rattled. It was impossible to tell what, but he heard a squeak that he'd come to associate with Hyde shifting in one of his chairs. "Whats wrong with the same three things you always make when you have 'company?"

Jekyll bit his tongue, turning back to the fridge. "The members wife, Ms. Mortinger, is vegan. Those three-er, all of the many dishes that I know how to make all include some form of meat or dairy."

"Ugh. Vegans are fucking psychos. No one cares about your new cruelty-free diet you're gonna quit on in two weeks Karen!"

"Hyde, vegans and vegetarians are perfectly sane and it's an admirable endeavor to want to be healthy and save animals."

"Oh yeah? Why aren't you vegan then, huh?"

"Er..." Jekyll glanced side to side, somehow hoping someone would save him from answering. Unfortunately no one was around, though that was actually rather fortunate, as it meant no one would see him talking to thin air.

"Well...uh... maybe I will!" he cried. Confidently. "It's never too late to start eating healthier! I might just start right now!"

He looked at the shelf of various milks labeled soy milk, oat milk, almond milk, cashew milk, pea milk oh that's unfortunate naming, cashew milk, and coconut milk. As well as the many 'meat alternatives’ and dairy-free cheeses already in his shopping cart.

Well, maybe not. But he wasn't telling Hyde that.

Hyde muttered unintelligibly, but with enough grumbling for Jekyll to feel as though he won.

"Yeah yeah whatever. So whats taking so damn long? Just grab one and go already fuckface."

"Well, the first thing I'm going to try is alfredo, but I'm not sure how a different milk will affect the sauce. Especially considering they're not actually milk.

There are some easy choices to eliminate, I'm pretty sure rice milk is mostly water. And I doubt the taste of almond would go well with alfredo."

"How do you know? Youve never tried it." Hyde scoffed, shifting again. Maybe to lie down? "Honestly, and you call yourself a scientist."

Jekyll pulled out a random carton and inspected the nutrition label. "Hm, pea milk has 8 grams of protein, that's a good sign right?"

"Pee milk??? Who the fuck named that? Also dont peas have shit bioavailability."

"Oh right, isn't it something like 46%?"

Hyde snorted, "I wouldn't know I'm not a fucking nerd."

"I-you literally just-ugh!"

After another five minutes of semi-quiet deliberation Jekyll decided soy milk would be his best bet and grabbed a few.

"Okay, a half-gallon is 2.86, so that's... 11.44."

"What? How much fucking milk are you buying?!" Hyde asked. He'd been unable to wait the few minutes in peace and had repeatedly sat up and down in his chair, tapping his feet all the while. Jekyll never understood why the man had so much energy, or so little patience, or... anything about him really.

"Just enough to practice with. What if I serve them my first attempt and it's not perfect? They'd probably laugh me out of my own flat!" God a disastrous dinner party would ruin his reputation, probably.

Hyde growled, actually growled, like an animal. "You know, I said this before but your life fucking sucks. You should quit your job and join my band."

"You don't have a band."

"Because we don't have enough people!! You could change that!"

Jekyll rolled his eyes, "Two people isn't enough for a band. I wouldn't be any good in a band either, I'd sound terrible. It would take ages for me to learn a passable tune, much less master an instrument."

"Thats not the point! Its not about sounding good its about having fun! Something you know nothing about mr-l-have-to-be-perfect-all-the-time-or-else-ill-die!"

Jekyll huffed, gripping his cart and heading for self-checkout. He wasn't going to be able to focus on making small talk with an employee now that Hyde had worked himself up into another fit.

"And another thing! Where do you get off lecturing me on what I eat when you eat the same shit when no ones looking! You're a damn hypocrite and pretentious as fuck for buying fake milk!"

God that was right, this conversation started over milk.

Not for the first time, Jekyll considered going deaf permanently. Unfortunately he had classes to teach and a dog to take care of. Maybe next time.

"It's unreasonable to cook everyday when I won't eat all of it! And the milk's not even for me!"

"Thats worse! You're buying plant slurry just cause some rich guy told you to and you have no fucking backbone!"

"Hyde I'm not going to go against someone's personal wishes just because you think she's doing it for attention!"

“Oh yeah?!”

“Yeah!”

.....

"Do you want to come over later and eat the practice meal?"

"Sure"

(also Yes I got this information from the Food Theory episode about milk, sue me. Not everyone can be a science professor who teaches science)

Undertale is one of those stories that works so well because I would be fascinated by any two characters interacting over literally anything. What would happen if you trapped Toriel and Alphys in a car for 8 hours. Mettaton and Flowey have to watch paint dry, who dies first. Sans and Undyne are stuck at a team-building seminar. Papyrus and Asgore are standing in line at a CVS. The possibilities are endless

[teddybeartoji]

also:3333333333

[mercymaker]

bruv comparison is truly the mind killer like damn...

[lith-myathar]

.

[tonycries]

Hot To Go!

Synopsis. Getting hit by a séx technique? No problem! Of course, you’re there to help.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx cursed technique (he’s affected), mating press, they’re REALLY needy, fúck or díe, oraI (fem receiving), jealousy (Nanami’s), bréeding, marathon séx, teary Gojo, creampíe, spítting, cúmplay, thígh ríding, fíngering, VERY pússydrunk boys, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k (woah)

A/N. I needed this outta my mind so bad y’all omg. Have a lovely day babygirls <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Just sit on it, woman!

“Please…” Toji drawls, slow and syrupy around your puffy clit. “Who do you think you are, doll? Just sit.”

Now, the problem wasn’t that strange, low-level curse from Toji’s latest job. No, don’t make him laugh - he barely felt whatever that weak cursed technique was. The problem was the way he’d trudged back home, not even thinking of reaching for that door handle before it hits him. 

Suddenly too-sensitive nose getting a whiff of your shampoo - all the way from inside the bedroom. 

All the way to that dangerous, ugly little part of himself that says that if he doesn’t get a taste of you right now then neither of you are making out of this alive. 

And it’s all you can do to gasp, “T-Toji what happened?”

“You. You happened. N’ I don’t care if I hafta oh-” he cuts himself off, hot lips surging forwards - addicted - to place another slow, wet peck on the sweet sweet juices beading at your cunt. “-if I hafta fuckin’ suffocate, m’gonna die if you don’t just sit, goddammit.”

“Fuck!” you keen when two, calloused hands of Toji’s loop around your shaky thighs. Pulling, dragging you down to press your entire weight down onto his slutty mouth. “You’re being so…”

He barely even hears you - too caught up on the way your pretty cunt was drooling down his waiting tongue. 

Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his face up, up, up to let your heady juices slide down his throat. “What? Filthy? Needy? Like a bitch in heat?”

Each hissed out little word has you jolting on top of him - and Toji only tightening his bruising grip with a pained grunt to stop you from disconnecting with his ruthless lips.

“Ohhh fuck stay still, woman. S’the stuff of heaven. You’re so lucky you weren’t anywhere near me after that fight.” he spits at the feeling of you clenching around him, mouth moving a mile a minute even when he slips it past your swollen folds, dragging the muscles along all your hidden sweet spots. “So lucky. So sweet- so perfect thought I was gonna die without a lil’ taste-” 

A shiver runs down your spine - all the way down to where Toji was messily making out with your ravaged pussy. Stretching you out, milking himself on your sloppy entrance. Animalistically, even.

You squeal, “Think I’m gonna die.”

“Shit- and you think I care? Just want- ngh-” And that sinful little scar rubs up against your sensitive folds when Toji grins knowingly, so deep now that his nose was pressing against your pelvis, jaw grinding against you. Big arms orchestrating each mean, long drag of your sloppy pussy up and down his pretty face. Up and down up and down up and- “What did I say? This is all because of y-you, y’know?”

And Toji’s tone is so low, strangled - that the answer almost comes out as a whine. It makes you snap your glassy eyes down to look - to gape at how utterly wrecked he already was. 

Dark hair curtaining those pussydrunk, half-lidded eyes, your slick glossing prettily over his plump lips - all the way down to his cheeks, his sharp jawline. And only getting sloppier with each movement,

“Me?” you blink tearily - fuck, when did it get so good you started crying? And why was Toji much the same? Dark eyes wet and miles away. 

“Mhm.”

“S’your fault for being so- so-” As if the words were failing him, Toji’s only moves to suck harsher on your throbbing clit. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid ah! ah! ah! “-like this.”

Even through the haze of it all, you manage out a huff of laughter, “Like this?”

For this, you get a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass. Thick fingers soothing over the sting almost immediately so that you’re not bowing your body away from Toji’s persistent mouth, “S’it so bad if I wanna taste my sweet girl?.” He moans, sounding so genuinely pained, “But I need you- need to taste this fuuuck pretty cunt so bad. Gonna die if I don’t- if I-” 

“Hngh- yes- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” your fingers threat their way into his soft hair. Tugging and pulling with each harsh lap at your cunt. Your body arching like a slut as if on command when he speeds up, “-feels too good. M’so close fuck-”

“Be messy, be loud- I don’t fucking care.” he hisses, brows furrowing in concentration. And whatever’s left of that practical little part of your hazy mind wonders whether it doesn’t hurt - whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up, mouth aching. “Jus- jus wan’ you to cum on m’tongue. You’ll let me taste you, right, doll? Want it want it want it so fuckin’ bad-”

You didn’t know who wanted you to cum more - you, or your dear boyfriend.

But when you do - you have you answer. 

“F-fuck, Toji.” your gummy walls clench around where he was bullying his tongue inside. “M’cumming- M’cumming m’cumming m’- ah!” 

“Give it t’me. Give it allll to me that’s it.” Because Toji’s lapping at each and every syrupy drop of your juices, moaning into your cunt as you ride him through your high. Addicted. The vibrations having your hips stuttering and unstable on top of him. 

He lets his thumb draw lazy, tight circles on your sensitive clit. Unstopping - even when you’re blinking back your spotty vision, tears crinkling at the corner of your eyes at the overstimulation. 

Even when you try to pull away from his ruthless mouth - little, messy strings of spit and slick snapping in the nonexistent distance. 

Even when he still darts his tongue out hastily to taste you sloppily, “One more - didn’t get enough of m’fill.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Can’t- won’t wait!

Everyone knows that your husband Nanami was protective - rightfully so. Everyone knows that just a toe out of line could have the stoic man snapping - showing off exactly why he was the one that put that pretty lil’ ring on your finger. 

But never like this. 

Never so…crazed.

And it’d only taken one too many flirty comments from some new intern in the time it’d taken Nanami to rush over there from his latest jujutsu mission. Just for your husband to drag you away from the party, barely paying attention to anything else.

Though, when you caught a glimpse of his eyes you didn’t think he could - gaze strangely hazy, breath a bit shorter, skin flushed a delicate pink. 

“Can’t believe it.” he groans, pressing you up against the wall of the nearest empty room he could find. Fat cock just nudging past that feeble ring of resistance of yours. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Fuck-”

You’re jumping slightly with each little profanity spat into your open mouth, bleary eyes blinking up at your Nanami. Managing out, “Is everything hah- alright, Ken?”

“Can’t fucking believe it.”

There it was again. 

That low, accusing little mantra - this time panted out into the side of your racing pulse. Breaking ever-so-slightly at the end when Nanami’s bullying his swollen cock deeper past your plushy walls, the curve of his girth having you arch like such a slut against the wall. 

Nanami growls, “Can’t fucking believe-” he slides two hands under your weakening thighs easily, picking you up like some little ragdoll to be split apart on his cock. Murmuring against your mouth, “Can’t believe you won’t let me jus’ fuck you right then and there, my love.”

You don’t know what shocks you more - Nanami’s words or the way he’s immediately letting gravity do all the work, sliding your dripping cunt so easily down his cock. Inch by fucking inch. 

All up until your pelvis was flush against those neat tufts of blond at his base. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Nanami so impatient. 

“Thought I was gonna die without your sweet cunt.” He was barely even breathing. Eyes glassy - crazed. Voice so deep and ragged when he whispers into your ear. “Should’ve jus’ let me fuck you out there, right in the middle of the ball. Made a scene n’ showed them all please- we could go back-”

And it takes you a few seconds to realize that this is Nanami. Your Nanami.

Seriously, what the fuck happened on that mission?

“But- what?” you squeal, gummy walls swallowing him up so readily despite your confusion. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

And this little comment makes Nanami physically stop, dark eyes glinting with something so dark - dangerous. Brows furrowing as he utters, “Nothing. Did you forget that I’m your husband, darling?” Having you scrambling to hang onto his broad shoulders as he walks over to splay you out so prettily on a nearby desk. “Or do I jus’ hafta remind you?”

It’s all it takes for Nanami to thrust up into your heavenly cunt. One hand holding you still on the cool desk, while the other just ravages your throbbing clit in time with his needy cock. 

“F-fuck, Ken— oh- yes yes yes-”

Fat tip pressing up against your g-spot like he had a point to prove, spearing you at each harsh, bullying thrust that has you pushed further and further up the desk. Over and over. 

The desk shifts ever-so-slightly with every smack of Nanami’s heavy balls against your ass. Creaking - but not loud enough over your obscene moans. 

“Stop-” he chokes out at the feeling of your pussy being inched away from him. You weren’t running from him that easily. Which is exactly the thought ringing through his mind when Nanami circles his large hands underneath your thighs, dragging you right across to meet his sculpted front. “Stop fuckin’ running away.” Nevermind the fact that you weren’t - voluntarily at least. “Please- need it so badly, s’like m’burning without ya. You’re gonna take my cock like a hah- g-good lil’ wife, okay?”

And Nanami knows maybe he should slow down - maybe ease you into it, first. But either it was that stupid fucking cursed technique talking or maybe the sight of some loser being all starry-eyed at you, he’s fucking you into the desk so mean. 

“Should’ve- would’ve.” he’s grunting, and you already know what he’s talking about. “Saw you in this pretty lil’ dress and fuck darling you don’t know how h-hard it was to ngh keep m’self in check.” Teeth nipping and leaving little bite marks down your neck, and shit if you were in any better state of mind you’d have had the rationality to be worried about them - about how people would talk if they saw those. “N’ I would’ve loved to. Don’ know how much I fuck- w-worship this pussy, my love. How much I was dreaming about it all day long.”

The creaking grows louder.

Your head is spinning right now, “All day long?”

“Mhm…” Nanami slurs, a loose little smile playing on his lips. “Always do. But today- fuck, today. Needed to feel you or I thought I was gonna ngh- die. Or worse.” 

“Or worse.”

Bang! 

In a split-second, you’re back bunched up in Nanami’s arms - his cock still buried deep within you. Moving. Merciless. Even though his eyes flicker downwards at the pile of wood that used to be a desk. “Lose you that promotion.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Use?

“Use me.” 

“What?”

“Use me, goddammit.”

Geto sounded almost hysterical now - words ragged, a pitch higher than normal. Staring at you with that drunk, wide-eyed gaze while you perched right on his muscular thigh. Looking as bewildered as you felt at that moment when he lets out a humorless little laugh, “That curse- fuck I should’ve known before ingesting- shit.” 

Fingers frantic - almost tearing through the fabric of his boxers as he removes them feverishly. 

And his cock didn’t just look rock-hard no- it looked so so angry. So painful. Flushed a pretty red at his weepy tip, leaking down, down, down straight to where you’d unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“O-oh.” he gasps in relief when you’re dragging your fist up his cock. Head throwing back to show off that long, beautiful neck - dusted with a blush going all the way down. “Could cum from just this fuuuck.”

And this was nothing like the Geto Suguru you were used to - the sweet talker who’d have you falling apart with just a few words. The one that treated sex like a game - where you were always his pretty lil’ loser.

“Care to elaborate, Sugu?” you flash him a smug smirk - one that makes his swollen cock twitch traitorously in your hand. “Shit, you’re so needy right now you could cum untouched.”

“You little bitch.” he spits out, greedy gaze stuck on the way you were beginning to drag your sloppy cunt up and down his toned thigh. In a way that makes it impossible for Geto to tear his eyes away from the way you were intentionally catching your throbbing clit on each and every dip of muscle, spreading your puffy folds. “You know what I mean.”

You’re batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, grinding your hips down harder. “I don’t.”

As if to prove your point, you squeeze around his aching dick even harder, pumping your fist all the way from his soaked base up to his sensitive slit. 

Immediately, he bucks his hips up wildly, precum smearing a glossy sheen all over your wrist. “F-fuck you.” he spits. “You little-” And oh you should’ve known that Geto was Geto despite whatever he’d been cursed with. That it’d only take him a split second to reach a hand over to smear the mess of sweet sweet juices you were trailing over his thigh. Bullying his dripping wet fingers between your lips, “You talk too fuckin’ much, gorgeous.”

Oh.

Oh, you were fucked.

“You really think I’d let you g-get away with hah that much?” Geto drawls against your ear, fingers dancing down to control your movements riding his thigh. “N’ after ngh- I was so nice.” He was pulling - dragging you at a mean little pace now. “Should’ve just shut up n’ taken it. Should’ve just used me when I asked.”

It’s like he’d forgotten all about his lust-drunk little state. 

You’re mewling, muffled around his thick fingers. Something that only makes his lips curl up into a syrupy, smug grin, “Who’s cumming untouched now? Got somethin’ to fuck- say?”

You do - and you’re thumbing teasingly under Geto’s neat slit, reveling in the way that makes his harsh little rant die in his throat. Moving your hand up and down to first his cock needily in hasty, long movements like you were trying to fuck something delicious out. 

“You little minx hah-” he’s pressing his fingers right at the back of your tongue, hot mouth kissing away the salty tears welling up behind your eyes. “S-so dirty.”

And it was dirty - your hands coated in Geto’s sheen of precum, his thigh glossy with your slick. But neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted - not one bit. 

Not when Geto was forcing down your hips harder, bouncing his knee to match your slutty little tempo. Faster. More desperate. Letting you concentrate on driving him fucking insane with your soft hands - palming and running only on the need to making him cum. To have him spill so hotly all over your hands. 

“Yeah, oh God that’s right- Use me use me use me-” Geto’s mouth slacks open, eyes heady and cracked only to eye the way you’re clenching and quivering around nothing. Your hips only stuttering - getting sloppier and sloppier with each weighty, hard slide down his thigh. He groans, “Fuck fuck fuck m’close-”

“M-me too-” you whine, voice breaking so pathetically at the end. “So much for coming untouched.”

Close - too close.

Close enough that you’re barely even noticing the way Geto’s stiffening up underneath you. Breath hitching in his throat before-

Slam!

“Wha-” Your back hits the plush mattress - so fast that you almost have half the mind to wonder whether this was some figment of your imagination. But, no, Geto’s hot tip nudging at your puffy folds was real. Dangerous. Waiting for just the right moment to rip you apart. His bated breath against your ear was real - very, very real. 

“You didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you, gorgeous?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “S-sex?”

Oh, Choso sounded so fucked out just from uttering that.

And you feel the way your cunt clenches at that broken, almost-whiny little plea coming from your best friend’s mouth. Big, dark eyes blinking up at you dazedly in a way that makes you tighten your legs around his waist, pinned to the floor of- fuck, which curse site was this again?

“Mhm, Cho.” you hum, drinking in the shallow pants he lets out into your mouth when you slide his leaky, angry tip between your swollen folds. Barely teasing him between your slit, “S’the only way to get rid of this technique, right?”

Clothes are torn off, breaths coming out in pants. You don’t know if Choso registers your words - shit, you don’t know if he even hears you right now. 

Barely even breathing as he slides two shaky hands of his to rest up at your hips. Giving you a reassuring squeeze once. Twice. Before pulling you down in a split second. 

“Yes!” the word bursts out from his lips. Choso drags your body up, up, up his throbbing length like some ragdoll - until his pretty pink tip was just circling around your sloppy hole - only to bring you all the way back down again. Barely even halfway in yet, but the stretch - fuck, the stretch had you arching for more. “Yes yes yes yes yes fuck yes if you feel just like- like heaven-”

You never thought your sweet Choso would be so needy. Would buck his hips so ferally into your syrupy sweet cunt until you were second-guessing why it ever took so long to do something like this.

Until today’s fateful little mishap with another curse, that is - and oh, you’ve never been more grateful for that stray cursed technique. 

“Hngh-” you screw your eyes shut when the curve of his dick brushed against your sweet spots - unforgivingly. Spreading the fat of your ass in two big hands, trying to squeeze himself inside deeper. Again. And again and again and- “S-slow down, Cho–”

‘Slow down?” Choso breathes from below you - sounding so genuinely bewildered. Still thrusting up in stubborn, long grinds. “Y-you want me to slow down? After- after this?” He’s giving a mean thrust into your gummy pussy, eyes widening down at the heavenly view of your puffy lips sucking him up. Spread needily, bulging around his girth in a way he’d have felt sorry for if he was in any better state of mind. “Slow down- Yeah, gotta- gotta slow down.”

But he only fucks up into you harder. Stronger. Like it killed him to do anything but take you right now and right there on the floor. Messy - no rhythm or rhyme of his hips, just running on pure need and the feeling of you milking his poor cock.

And the idea of that - of your best friend being drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his aching cock - has you a little more breathless than you’d like. Plushy walls clamping down tight. 

Almost immediately, Choso’s throwing his head back, gasping out a stuttering, “O-oh so ngh- that’s what it feels like. Always- always imagined if…” You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence because two long fingers of his are latching on shyly to your sensitive clit, rolling softly. 

And if he were any less of a man, Choso would be cumming on the spot - fuck, he’d be passing out. 

“Fuuuuck tighter than I’d dreamt of.” he whimpers, cock twitching wildly inside your dripping cunt. Deft fingers find a lewd little rhythm to toy with your ravaged clit. “Have to slow down- have to- can’t.”

He was out of control now. Sloppy. Teary praises leaving those pretty pink lips with each bullying piston of his hips. 

“Ch-Choso!” you whine, dragging your hips down to meet his sloppy cadence.

Choso’s eyes flutter to the back of his head, grunting “Yes, yes that’s it, my baby. Say my name.” Using his inhuman strength to put pressure on your hips. “Take it- take it please. Wan’ see you full of m’cock.” All the way until the heady bedroom echoes with a loud smack! his fat head kissing your cervix, heavy balls imprinting against your ass. 

And then it’s like something snapped. 

Choso’s sanity - his restraint. Possibly you by the end of this. 

Because in all of two seconds, he’s flipping the two of you over. Your back pressed against the cool floor, legs thrown over his shoulders until your knees were folded all the way up into your tits, Choso groans into your ear at the all new angle. 

Not wasting a second longer before fucking you in this mean little mating press, abs rippling with each heavy, calculated movement. 

“Baby…” Choso drags his lips up your neck, sharp canines biting down on your earlobe. Gentle - the complete opposite of his rock-hard cock. “Think if I cum inside s’gonna solve the curse?”

Oh.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - True kinda love

You thought you’d seen everything there is about the king of curses. Anything from those smug kisses he’d give you after taking care of “scum curses” for fun to the times he’d begrudgingly watch sappy movies with you - only to fuck away your tears at the end. 

You thought.

But oh you’d never seen him like this - yukata torn apart, no longer fitting how much bigger was, how much stronger his form was. His true form. 

Muscles just bulging on all four arms, eyes half-lidded, dark nails leaving neat little indents where he held your squirming hips sat prettily on two matching, painfully hard cocks. 

Well, “sat prettily” was an understatement - right now you felt so full you could’ve just died.

“Heh, better not die on me just yet because I feel like m’gonna kill fucking everyone..” Sukuna’s large pecs rumble with laughter- shit, had you said that out loud? “Everything.” Long tongue coming up to lick a hot trail up the big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Whispering raggedly, “God- fuck! How’d you want it? Like I’m me or like hah- this?”

It’s all you can do to crane your head up deliriously, batting your teary lashes in a way that makes Sukuna twitch so wildly. 

His veins thump! thump! thumping into your gummy walls, fat heads nudging right at your bruised cervix - your lungs it felt like. Hips grinding up into yours when he’s shoving himself impossibly deeper, “Answer me.”

“Fuck!” you’re gasping, stupidly. Glassy gaze flitting down to the two angry cocks bullied inside your poor pussy. And still going. “N-no, your true ngh- form- fuck-” 

“Oh yeah?”

Your words are coming out a garbled mess, making such a sly, dangerous leer spread across Sukuna’s lips. Fucking up faster. Sloppier. 

Oh, the feeling had him lightheaded. Had him thankful he lost control of his powers to maintain that pathetic human image of his. Had him ramming past those rings of muscle again. And again. And again and again- oh he was fucked.

“Fuuuck, feel like m’burning. M’so lucky.” Sukuna slurs out, a free hand of his busying itself toying with your throbbing clit. Pulling, rolling in a way he knows will have you whining so prettily. “Sooo fuckin’ lucky I didn’t kill that fuckin’ trash curse.” Glossing his wrists with your sweet sweet juices, lips kissing at your heated ears. “Because now I get to see how much of a slut my girl is f’me, hm?”

The only answer he’s getting is a wet string of profanities that even Ryomen Sukuna himself is proud of. 

Because suddenly Sukuna’s crashing his achy tips against your g-spot, throwing his head back at how fucking sinful it felt to be rubbing up against himself. 

“Shit- yer only getting tighter.” he spits, strained. Sculpted thighs rippling underneath you where he was fucking up into you in jagged, methodical half-thrusts to mold your sweet cunt to him. “Ngh- fuuuck gonna be the death of me, pretty girl.”

“Please-” you’re clawing at the sheets, the headboard, Sukuna’s shoulders - anything and everything to keep your sanity. Begging for- what? Mercy? More? “Please please- m’so close. Kuna ngh-”

He cranes his head down to kiss at your slack lips, breaths feverish. “Damn. Open that m-mouth now, brat. Jus’ a bit- jus’ a bit more.” 

Your mouth is sagging open, tongue lolling out before you know it - positioned perfectly for the bigger man to purse his lips and spit. Once. Twice. 

And Sukuna knew he had perfect aim, he knew he could’ve made this easy for you - but, no, the steady stream of saliva is splattering against the side of your mouth. A large thumb of his coming up to swipe the mess across your wobbly lower lips. 

“My girl deserves to be treated like the slut she is, right?”

His true form has those inhumanly large fingers moving so unfairly fast on your clit, rolling and pinching in an obscene little blur. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you sob, ass stinging where his heavy balls were smacking you - sure to leave a few embarrassing marks. And fuck he’s not even all the way in yet. “Y-you’re so deep- so much. Close Hngh-”

Sukuna’s grinning, two hands helping just drag you down his sloppy length, until your sopping folds were kissing at his toned pelvis. Another dancing up to knead and grope your sloppy hole open wider, “Say it. Say who you’re acting like such a slut for.”

“It’s- fuck!”

“Say it properly, my cockdrunk girl. Say it if you wanna cum.”

“You!” your words fail you pathetically, and the only think you’re moaning next is Sukuna’s name - like a prayer. “S’you Kuna oh-”

And then you’re cumming - white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and Sukuna’s name in your mouth. Arching into his body. His tongue slipping past your puffy lips to muffle his own moans because God this was the hardest he’d cum in his life and he wasn’t about to drown out any of your pretty moans with it. 

“Oh-” Sukuna shudders, fucking you over and over through your high. Two hands carrying your weight and- shit, when did he stand up? “Yeahh, milk me like that, just it mm knew you were so good f’me-”

You’re realizing with a jolt that he’d gotten up, using gravity to his advantage and sliding you up and down his swollen cocks like some glorified sextoy. So easily. So sinfully while he filled your poor overfilled over and over. 

Thick, hot globs of cum that drool down your messy cunt, so fucking much from both his throbbing cocks. Like he couldn’t - wouldn’t stop. 

Enough to form a pool at Sukuna’s feet. One he doesn’t even give a second glance before muttering, “Ya better hope you’re on the pill because the curse and I are far from over, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - STRONGEST

You thought it would bate by his second orgasm. 

And when it didn’t, well, surely the third time was the charm…

Or, well on the slight chance that that didn’t work - the fourth would be the last, right? Right?

“Sweetheart…” Gojo mutters, teary, red-rimmed eyes peering so unfairly into your hazy ones. Folding your trembling, limp legs back into such a tight mating press. “Jus’ one more time. Please? I promise this fifth time’s gonna be the last.” 

Wrong. And here you were, folded up in half underneath the great Gojo Satoru - the strongest, the same sorcerer that can take down a special grade and let himself be hit by its cursed technique (“out of curiosity!”) in the same breath. 

“A-another?” you mutter, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended. Thighs tightening involuntarily where they were thrown over Gojo’s broad shoulders. “Toru, are you sure-”

Your dear boyfriend’s only giving you a slow, lazy nod. A dopey smile spreading over his face when he spots the trail of gooey white dribbling down your poor, overfilled pussy, gushing out of you with each languid thrust. Oh- shit, when had he started moving again? You bet even he didn’t know that answer.

And before you can react, Gojo’s taking the time to pool the sinful mess on two of his fingers - promptly bullying them back into your already stuffed cunt.

Fuck, you’re not making it out of this alive.

“Shit, taking me so e-easily, huh?” Gojo’s raw, pink lips fall open when your sloppy hole stretches just enough to accommodate his long fingers. “Y-yeah tha’s it. Take it like m’good girl.” Tears of sensitivity pricking behind his eyes when you clench around him so fucking tight, your plushy walls just milking his ravaged cock. “F-fuck s’too sensitive. Too much!”

And despite his own little whines at the back of his throat, Gojo makes no move to stop. 

Did he say he’d stop? Ah, his fried brain couldn’t remember anymore.

None at all, instead, he’s raising his glossy finger pads right up to his mouth. Blue eyes falling shut when he presses them inside momentarily, sucking, savoring the taste of you and him and you-

“You’re t-too much, Toru.” you squeal in embarrassment. 

And that’s all it takes the strongest to let out a barely-lucid hum of agreement - pulling out his fingers with a lewd pop! 

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he leans down to hum, breath hot against your face. “But what can I- ngh- do-” Each word was punctuated by a harsh, sloppy smack of his hips against your own. Not even bothering pulling all the way out - Gojo doesn’t have to, because he’s nudging all your sweet spots so expertly anyway. Grunting out over those absolutely lewd squelches, “I just want- need you so bad. S’like m’burning from the inside hah- o-out if I don’t ngh fuck this pretty pussy.” He’s babbling deliriously, bent so far down now that your forehead is pressed up against his, thighs burning at the stretch. “-need it so bad. Need it - my one weakness, sweetheart. S’gonna kill me- gonna be the death of me oh-”

“Please!” you think you could almost feel Gojo’s cum sloshing around your walls right now. Fucking you into the mattress so hard - so deep - that you wonder by what miracle the neither of you haven’t broken anything yet. 

It wasn’t a miracle - it was his reverse cursed technique, which the both of you discover only much, much later. 

But for now you’re only clinging desperately to Gojo’s muscled shoulders, bones popping in protest. Fucked-out whimpers spiling from his pretty mouth each time he was slamming his poor, overused cock inside you. Teary eyes screwing shut because shit it hurt so good. Too good. 

“F-Fuck!” you’re gasping when he dances his fingers straight down to draw hasty, feverish little circles on your poor clit. Fingers clawing at his persistent wrist, “Oh my god-”

Gojo hums into your mouth, “J-just ‘Toru’ is fine.”

You let his cocky little comment slide - if only because your boyfriend was smashing into your g-spot repeatedly now. Over and over.

Voice about an octave higher when he’s groaning, “Y-yeah, that good? Ngh- ah!” His hips were stuttering forwards - messy, so so needy like he was drunk on those cute lil’ whines tearing from you with each drag of his cock. “Yeah fuck fuck f-fuck yer killin’ me - pussy too good, feels like m’gonna die.”

God, he really did feel like he could die. Fuck. 

“M-me too ngh, Toru.” you wrench your eyes open when something so wet splashes onto your cheeks. Boring into Gojo’s glassy, pussydrunk eyes. Crying now. “M’so close-”

“O-oh yeah?”

And then he’s speeding up - if that was even possible. Flushed skin smacking against yours harder. Just a bit more calculated. Like he couldn’t stop. Uncontrollable. 

Enough for Gojo to blink away the slight haze in his eyes and actually look at you. Look at the way your lips wobble with each glide of his fat tip against your sensitive spots, the way you milk him harder when he’s smearing his mess of cum all over your clit. At those delirious little heart-eyes you give him when he only lets his jaw sag open, such fucking embarrassing whimpers of your name being drawn all the way from his overworked cock. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.” he manages to grit out. “Cum f’me cum f’me, please. Please.”

And how could you not when the strongest asks you so prettily?

You don’t know who cums first - just that your own orgasm is a wave of tingles that shoot all the way from your toes right into your stupidly fucked-out brain. Again and again and Gojo-

Oh, Gojo can’t do anything but bury his head into the crook of your neck. Sharp teeth biting down hard at the point of your pulse as he cums over and over and over. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed right into your silky cunt. A sinful little white that drools out of your sloppy slit - too much. 

“Sweetheart…” Oh, you knew that tone - too well. “Y’know how I h-have the ah- six eyes n’ this was only our fifth round and six is really a nice num-”

“M’gonna kill you, Toru.”

“S’that dirty talk for our sixth round?”

A/N. TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO

Plagiarism not authorized.

[clonewarsahsoka]

My nervous system has been soooo fucked the last few days due to #Emotions!

[444venicebitch444]

Something something TF 141 gets a new secretary because their old one decided to finally retire, and you show up.

A sweet little thing, no military experience, all shy smiles and nervous chuckles, punctual and neat.

You take care of their paperwork, their mail, schedule their meeting, bring them coffee, and most importantly it’s not half bad to have a good set of legs and a pretty face to look at.

Price was a right gentleman, a nicer boss than you could’ve ever expected from a military man, and Soap and Gaz really had your confidence going whenever they made their flirtatious quips (which was everyday, really).

Ghost, though? Ghost was exactly what you’d expected after hearing the stories: a stoic, intimidating man who spoke in grunts and monosyllables, and who was, in your opinion, quite rude.

Did the man have no manners? Had his mother not taught him to say ‘thank you’?

You tried making an extra effort with him, your need to be liked overpowering your annoyance towards the lieutenant, because you intended to keep this job; the pay was great, it was a short drive from your apartment and you weren’t going to let a guy who wore a bloody skull balaclava everyday ruin this for you.

So you smiled more, made your good mornings and good afternoons sweeter, same as the tea you’d leave on his desk everyday at 4 pm sharp, and the little squiggly hearts you’d draw on the post it notes on top of his files. 

And when Simon’s grunts started mutating into full fledged sentences, and he actually told you a joke, you found yourself grinning, more out of self satisfaction than because of whatever ridiculous pun he’d said in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

For you, it was over, your plan had worked, and now all your bosses liked you, getting rid of that lingering uneasiness in the back of your head. 

For Simon, on the other hand? You’d unlocked Pandora's box, if said box contained the lieutenant’s affection (obsession) for you.

It was true, he hadn’t liked you at first: you disrupted the routine, the practised flow of the office, and gave Johnny and Kyle an excuse to be fucking insufferable in their working space instead of only in the shitty pubs where they’d drag him after shifts. He was going to lose his fucking mind if he had to hear another “can’t walk into the office looking that good, darlin’. won’t let me get anything done”.

The worst part was that they weren’t wrong; you were pretty and Simon couldn’t deny that. I mean, what did anyone expect, for him to not shoot a look at your arse in those tight trousers? He was but a man.

But when you started your little routine, it sent him down a spiral. What the fuck was your problem? Why would you draw a bloody heart next to the note that reminded him about his debrief? 

What you hadn’t understood, though, was that with a man like Simon Riley, that wasn’t just being nice, it wasn’t getting him to like you. it was an enablement of his ugly heart, something that fed the flames of his desires, because why else would be making him tea? that was practically a wedding vow, love. 

So he decided that you were his, that he didn’t need to discuss it with you because you already worried your pretty, little head too much with work and what future husband would he be if he didn’t try to make your life easier?

That included tellin Kyle to fuck off when he flirted with you, giving you a lift when your car broke down (which had absolutely nothing to do with simon messing with its battery), and helping you find your cat when it ran away (the fucking thing had scratched the hell out him when he’d taken it to that alleyway). 

The most important part of his duties, however, was watching you, making sure you were safe. Because who was gonna do it if not him? certainly not your, in his assessment, untrustworthy friends.

And your locks were so easy to pick, it had only taken him one try.

So Simon watched as you read a book and bought the same the very next day, he watched you prepare meal after meal with the nutritional value of a brick and made a mental note to make you something healthy when he’d finally cook for you, and he watched as you came out of the shower, completely enthralled.

Unfortunately, he had no way of looking into your bathroom but you’d walk into your room wrapped only in a towel so he wasn’t going to be too picky. Especially not when he got to see you rub that vanilla scented lotion that drove him insane into your soft skin, or drop the fluffy towel to the ground only to cover the delicate swell of your breasts with your pyjama top.

His favourite part, however, was without doubt when you’d lie against your pillows, your fingers dipping below your waistband. His sweet bird, not so innocent after all. 

His body would burn as he watched, his hands aching to replace your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips because it couldn’t touch yours.

He held onto every tiny gasp, every quiet whine, knowing that he’d make you sound so much better.

But he was patient and he was going to do things properly, take his time: take you to dinner, buy you gifts, eventually give you the ring he’d already bought. He wasn’t a total wanker, lovie.

So for now he was going to be satisfied with watching you and stealing your panties, offering a gruff “morning, sweetheart” the next day.

[icewindandboringhorror]

golf

[lovegasmic]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ 𝗩𝗛𝗦

HOT DILF NEXT DOOR ⭑.ᐟ

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo x fem!reader ’ ୨୧ taglist

⌞ PG-18 ⌝ reversed version of hot milf next door ◞ age gap, all consenting adults◞ creampie except for kento ◞ they are actual dilfs not just older men◞ you cheat on your bf with satoru but he deserves it, and reader is a brat◞

this is long and I've had this request for longer, so take this as an apology for not posting anything new lately ‹3

𝜗𝜚 TOJI

of course another screw had to come loose from the cheap cupboard doors barely hanging on for dear life. you curse under your breath, wiping a drop of sweat that makes it’s way down your forehead and onto the cupid bow, “fuck this shit place” finding a good place as a student was no good, and it was either surviving in a struggling apartment or sharing living space at the school dorms where the air reeked of multiple fluids and body odors was not really an option.

and now, rummaging through the multiple still closed boxes laying on your living room to find a screwdriver was neither an option, “just kill me already” mustering up some courage, your feet drags you to the front door and towards the one next to it, hoping and praying that your neighbor is an actual nice person as your knuckles hit the wood, please, anything really, perhaps an older lady who can bake, or a lovely young student around your age who can—

oh.

that’s a freaking kid.

“hi, um..., are your parents home?” so freaking awkward, the kid looks at you unimpressed, barely blinking and dark hair sticking in all directions before he turns around.

okay, that was rude, but you’re about to speak again until he comes up, moving as if he owned the place, big muscles under a shirt a bit too tight, and that flat expression barely quirks up in what seems like a grin, “can I help you, doll?” and oh, again, that voice is enough to make your knees buck.

“h-hi, i moved next door, and uh—” shit, shit, “do you have a screwdriver I can borrow for a second?” did you even introduce yourself? that does not matter, and the man doesn’t seem to care, giving you an amused up and down look before nodding.

“got a problem with the cupboard already, huh? don’t worry I got a trick” isn’t this man such a gentleman? already gathering some tools and telling the kid, now called Megumi, to behave while he helped the cute girl.

he’s definitely flirting, yeah, it must be, those half grins, constant licks at the scar in the corner of his mouth and the way his eyes trail up and down your body when he thinks you’re not looking, that’s flirting, isn’t it?

just snap out of it, you’re not an eighteen year old anymore, you’re 20... not a big difference, but you should not be fantasizing about that man who is most likely married.

“... anything else?” his voice snaps you out of your stupor, now for good, but you know he’s aware, judging by the grin he offers.

“no, that’s all, thanks” you hope that will answer whatever he also asked, what you don’t expect is for his large body frame to walk up to you, a calloused thumb pressing on your jaw to tilt your head up.

he leans slightly, “no need to be shy, doll, neighbors are to help each other” and there is a trace of something else behind his words, something you can’t quite put into words.

a very slight gasp escapes your lips as his thumb runs down, gently caressing the column of your throat and collarbones, “you’re so pretty, a pretty girl like you must have a pretty name” and you utter it, rolling out your tongue for Toji to catch it with his own name in a shared breath.

Toji. Toji. Toji.

“Toji...! it’s nghhh... r-reaching oh, so deep!” who could have thought that ‘neighboors helping each other’ would have turned into ‘neighbors who rearrange your guts’.

it’s been a few days since the first time Toji helped you fix the furniture, which developed into some kisses, cock sucking and now almost a daily fuck, with quivering thighs with just how hard Toji’s cock rammed into your tiny hole, so fuckin’ wet and tight, struggling to accommodate the whole girth of the man’s huge cock sliding in and out deliciously deep.

there’s a whole package of condoms in your drawer, tucked under the remaining pair of panties Toji hasn’t ripped apart in attempts to reach your cunt faster.

“take it, fuckin’ take it” he huffs, cock twitching inside your velvety walls that cling to each vein and ridge around that fat and long dick, the couch drags across the floor with each one of the dark haired’s thrusts, having you bent, a tit out of the tank top, panties swinging around an ankle and toes curled in sheer bliss. that man knows how to fuck.

and his hand is everywhere, one is holding your shoulders to brutally pull you back so your pussy lips spread vulgarly on each side of his balls, while the other entrained itself by pinching a nipple, tugging your tits and groping the fat of your ass, a low whistle comes next at the sight of your tiny hole stuffed to the brim, “fuck, doll, this cute tight pussy is gripping so tight, shit..., like a fucking virgin...” and a thumb comes to rub your clitoris, a bit uncoordinated but still as good, making your head swim in pleasure, “i’m going to cum if you tighten so hard...”

“i-in— angh, inside, please!”

“of course i’m cumming in this pussy” Toji mocks with a laugh and you whimper, shaking your head, barely turning to look at the man from above your shoulder with pleading, cute eyes.

“take off the condom” and fuck, a fat drop of precum just oozed from the tip.

your hands reach back to press on Toji’s v line, fingertips grazing the slick coated base, “the princess wants a creampie in her tiny cunt?”

fucking hell, that cocky smirk and the way his cock, disgustingly hard, slaps against his abdomen when pulling out makes your tummy do a flip, eagerly reaching to tug on the latex tip and tossing the condom away as if it was offensive.

“a-ah yes!” you can’t avoid the relief moan that gets pulled out of your lips at the sensation, alongside Toji’s pleasure groan that rumbles deep and darkly, with thumbs hooking on each side of your pussy to keep you spread and ready to take those perfectly aligned thrusts, smashing your g spot and having you cumming within seconds, “g-uh, so good... I need...”

“i know, baby, I know, i’m... fuck... cumming deep in this fertile young pussy”

𝜗𝜚 KENTO

the last box is loaded in the truck and your parents bid you farewell. sigh, time to get to work, “do you need any more help?” Kento asks, your sweet and kind neighbor who you’ve known for years, who used to brush your knees when you fell on the grass while playing with Yuuji, who baked delicious loafs of bread you cheerfully ate sitting at the edge of his kitchen counter with your feet swinging.

“i will be okay” you say, flashing a side grin towards the older man, his face as warm as ever, but currently sporting several age lines that just make him look hotter.

yes, you grew and so did he, but your first, and initial admiration towards the man, soon became more loving and even lustful when you turned 19, and now with your parents moving abroad, leaving the cozy, childhood home you grew up in to your care, being into Kento’s ‘care’ —which you did not even needed in the first place, god, you’re a grown adult!— perhaps you were going to use this chance to get closer to the man.

“then I will get going so you get used to your new independence” he jokes a little, turning to return to his empty home due to Yuuji’s just recent departure to college.

“wait!” you stop him, “i was thinking... you know that yummy bread you used to bake? do you mind teaching me how to do it myself?” that will definitely do, getting into Kento’s good side, and house, was as easy as you remember.

and of course he agreed, offering a nod and gentle smile that just made your belly do a flip, what a damn pervert you were, lusting over your neighbour who probably just saw you as a charity work.

but then again, Kento needed it, the poor man was so lonely, with Yuuji gone, his wife leaving him years ago due to his ‘workaholic’ behaviour, a woman’s touch was so needed in his life, and you were going to help.

the baking class is so domestic you kinda feel bad for trying to get into the blonde’s pants, really, his always present and fond smile while you accidentally made a mess of floor all over the kitchen counter was not good for your heart, nor the way he chuckled in that deep and low voice tone of his, hoping he did not notice the way your knees bucked.

a hand comes to hold your wrist, so gentle, “knead like this” and his voice is right against your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine and heat pooling in your lower abdomen as he guides the motions, yet your eyes are glued to the way his hand veins pop with each squeeze, would he knead your ass the same way? and also... is his cock that veiny too?

with that thought in mind, you barely buck your hips back, pretending to change the weight from one foot to another when, in reality, you purposely brushed your butt with his crotch.

and Kento notices, his hands stopping for a brief second before resuming, and you move again, almost like a dance to see who would snap first, although each buck and brush is more bold than the previous, that until a large and veiny hand squeezes your hip, there it is.

“stay still” his voice is low and almost a rumble, feeling the warmth of his chest near your back through the thin layers of clothes.

that should not turn you on as much as it did, feeling slightly embarrassed from being caught and stopped that you unconsciously squirm again, and of course, your butt now lands right against Kento’s tenting crotch, feeling the tip poking on a cheek, “shit...” your moan is weak, unable to stop from full on grinding against his cock, to which his hands grip you tighter, the dough long forgotten.

“don’t... do that...” Kento’s words are strained, barely holding on from the urge to just bend you over and fuck you senseless, truth is he saw you grow up, but he also witnessed how you became the nature and sexy girl you are now, “this is wrong”

but his name sounds so cutely from you, that soft, mewled, and needy “Kento...” is just enough to break him.

the sticky mess of flour and water remaining on the kitchen counter sticks to the back of your shirt, it will be a pain to wash it, but meh, that should be another day’s worry, currently, your only focus is the man between your legs, keeping you as spread as ever, with your feet propped up the counter, leggings pulled down and that condom clad cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, and yes, it’s very fucking veiny.

“this is what you wanted, didn’t you?” his words are huffed from the effort of thrusting mercilessly inside your hole, with a hand on the apex of your thigh to keep your lips open, and the other laying on a jiggling tit, “to get fucked by an older man, I saw the way you look at me, sweetheart, you’re not subtle”

that just makes you clench and mewl, getting caught drooling over the man was utterly hot and even excited he knew just how much you wanted him in your guts like now, “c-can’t help it, you’re— ngh, t-tooo hot!” it’s like you’re losing consciousness with each drag of those throbbing veins against your walls, the friction so fucking delicious and deep, oh so deep, curving just perfectly to drive you insane.

“you’re so hot too” he praises, the words so unfamiliar coming from those lips, adding to the lust filled expression of an almost pussy drunk man, “you’ve grown beautifully” and his words are like his hands, caressing your body with heat leaving on its wake until it lays on your fluttering abdomen, “so sexy, so tight and wet”

“just for you” you moan around your own fingers, sucking the digits to leave them soaked and rub tight circles on your swollen clit, it’s a vision that makes Kento’s cock twitch and splurt another drop of pre inside the condom.

Kento, the always impecable and polite man that fucks so nasty and kisses as equally lewd, gripping your jaw with a hand and a tongue comes to rub all across your sweet mouth, swallowing the desperate pleas and “i’m cumming” mumbles before you’re a sobbing mess and Kento is stuffing the condom full of creamy semen that, hopefully, will stuff your pussy bare someday.

𝜗𝜚 SATORU

“is it really necessary?” you complain for what feels like the fourth time that exact same day, your parents don’t get it, of course they don’t, you were doing just fine with your classes, and if the grades were barely above the requirement to pass, so what? at least you were not struggling in college.

“is that boy’s fault,” your mom says from the back, arms crossed and a scowl on her face, “i told you he is a bad influence and still you did not listen! now your grades are a mess, it’s like our money for your tuition is going to waste” ah yes, your filthy rich parents money, that money was almost spare cash for them.

“don’t bring my boyfriend in this, it’s not his fault” you attempt to defend the little honor your lover had, which, honestly, he did not deserve, he was the worst kind of man you couldn’t have ever fallen for, uninterested, having you crawl behind him, but he had a big dick and a bike, sigh.

“i don’t care, you’re going to have Mr. Gojo tutor you, you like it or not”

Satoru Gojo or Mr. Gojo, your also filthy rich neighbor who just traveled around the world with god knows what money, what would he even know?

the sound of your foot tapping on the floor could tick anyone, but your stupid boyfriend hasn’t responded to any text since yesterday, and you’re two minutes away from making the long and boring walk to your next door’s neighbor house, so long and boring.

you curse and grab your bag way too hastily, you’re sick of this, utterly pissed off, and sadly Mr. Gojo will have to turn into your punching bag.

one or twice is the times you’ve seen the man, he was barely at home or your schedules never met, but damn, he was hot.

tall, broad, with soft white hair that fell on his eyes and made him look younger than he was, bright blue eyes to contrast and ridiculously long legs and hands. somehow you’re a bit speechless as he asks you to come in, taking the surroundings of his home and the family picture frames hanging off the walls, not a woman in sight, strange.

“where is your wife?” mouth works faster than the brain, but Satoru does not mind, giving you a smirk from over his shoulder.

“i don’t have a wife, my kids were adopted” damn, that makes it harder for you to hate on this man.

deciding not to pry even more into the topic you just follow him to the living room, a bunch of history books are splayed in the coffee table so you sit next to the man in one of the large, leather couches.

“your parents say you’re struggling with Japanese periods, yes? Meiji, Heian...”

this was going to be long, “yeah, whatever, why do I even have to learn about all that? it’s in the past, who cares” your attention was drifting again, pulling out your phone and tapping harshly on the screen, no messages, “fuck”

“hey, focus here, princess, leave your phone aside” the sudden shiver that runs down your spine at the nickname is somehow drowned down by a rush of annoyance, you were already in a bad mood and now this man was telling you what to do? fuck this.

“don’t tell me what to do! it’s not as if i wanted to come here in the first place” with a leg crossed over the other your head turns, puffing your cheeks like a spoiled brat.

and again, your eyes drop to your phone.

“hm, I see how it is” yet he’s not mad, more like... amused, and before you realize it he’s snatching your phone that happened to be unlocked, “who’s sukuna?”

“give me that!” you squeak, trying to grab your phone back but Satoru is already scrolling through endless embarrassing texts and multiple nudes you’ve sent.

he clicks his tongue in return, “oh, babygirl, you don’t know how to pick a man, do you?” he coos, almost as if he’s mocking you, and before you realize it, you’re being dragged to his lap, a hand on the small of your back and the other on a bare knee, “tsk, tsk, a sweet thing like you deserve much better, a real man who can please you” his smirk almost makes you moan, adding to the way his long and slender fingers trailed up your thigh to brush the edge of the panties you wore, which were almost ruined at this point.

“boys your age don’t know how to satisfy a girl like you”

the previous heated exchange is not turned into moans echoing in the room, Satoru is so fuckin’ big and long, making your eyes cross and tongue loll out with each drag of his cock inside your walls, he has you spread, with your thighs swinging over his forearms, chest on your back and his lips on your neck, giving you the fuck of your life while at the same time being treated like a fleshlight.

the man is big, big muscles and a big cock that struggles to push past the resistance inside your cunt, but it’s so worthy once it’s in, successfully finding your g spot within seconds of pounding.

“that’s a good girl, yeah, keep moaning, babygirl, your cunt is perfect around my cock” how could this man speak so lewd and freely while rearranging your guts, voice unaffected but the throb and twitch of his cock proved otherwise, “i haven’t fucked a pussy this damn tight, you’re sucking me in, ah fuck— greedy young cunt”

“nghh! haagh f-uck Sa-ah toru!” what a mess, mess of babbling nonsense and a mess of slick and precum dripping down to pool between your legs and onto the couch, the creamy sound of your pussy dragging you and down is just growing with how wetter you get, creating a ring of pearly cum around the base of Satoru’s fat cock filling your insides.

your phone rings, but who fuckin’ cares? your boyfriend is in the past, and now having a tutor is not that entirely bad.

[dollfacefantasy]

SNOW ON THE GLASS ♡

pairing: dilf!leon kennedy x fem!reader x milf!ada wong

summary: you love your job as the kennedys nanny. it's fairly easy and pays great. plus you may have a tiny crush on your bosses. but as it turns out, they may reciprocate that feeling more than you know.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mild dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, intoxication/intox kink, breeding kink, praise kink, age gap (late 30s, early 20s)

a/n: birthday gift for my wonderful bestie @explorevenus!! i love you so so much <3 also also also, imagine them both at their re6 ages, i just couldn't find any pics of re6 ada i liked sue me 😔

Little white flakes of snow landed one after another on the clear pane of glass in front of your face. You chewed your bottom lip while watching the flurries compile on the window, and in-turn, your car parked in the driveway.

Behind you, a pair of sharp heels clacked against the tile floor as the owner of said driveway returned to the room. Ada stepped through the archway and down the half-step to approach you by the front door. Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, she smiled when you turned to look at her.

“Here’s your check, sweetheart,” she said, bringing a small rectangular paper to brush against your fingertips.

“Thank you,” you replied as you took it from her. Your eyes immediately made their way back to the storm outside that grew worse by the second.

She followed your gaze, her palm staying in place on your shoulder. Unlike you, Ada’s face remained composed. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She’d known this storm was coming. It was an integral part of her plan for tonight.

But despite her internal calmness, she furrowed her dark brows and injected some worry into her tone.

“It’s getting bad out there. That snow is just piling up,” she proclaimed, “There’s no way you should be driving in weather like that.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your thoughts had been reaching the same conclusion. You were just hesitant to voice them because after a long day of work, you yearned for the comfort of your apartment. It was finally the weekend, and your plush bed and soft sheets called to you. You’d been dreaming of the quiet between those walls all day. The privacy to do whatever you wanted that you didn’t have when you were here for most hours of the week. 

Make no mistake, you loved your job as the Kennedys full-time nanny, but regardless of your enjoyment, it was still work that required a lot of attention and labor. Their daughter was the sweetest child you’d ever met; however, carting her to and from dance class and kindergarten along with making her food, playing with her, and putting her down for naps piled up on you.

“Maybe if I leave now, I can make it…” you thought aloud.

“Oh please. Honey, you live across town. You’d have to take the highway, and people drive crazy as is. I should know, my husband is one of them,” she joked.

Your brows raised at the mention of Leon. You hadn’t even thought about how your other employer would get home tonight. You looked over your shoulder at her again. “Do you think he’ll be ok? It’s coming down really hard out there,” you said.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” she waved off, “His friend is giving him a ride home tonight. I’m sure they’ll make it in one piece.”

Releasing a small breath of relief, you nodded again.

“It’s really no problem if you stay,” she continued, “We have the guest room all set up. It has a bathroom attached, so you’d have total privacy. And I wouldn’t make you watch Christina or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no,” you reassured, “It’s not that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you and Mr. Kennedy.”

“You’re never a burden on us. With all you do for Christina, you’re practically part of the family. I wouldn’t want you driving off and getting into an accident just because you didn’t want to impose. I’m sure you know that we have more than enough space in this house,” she said and ran her hand over your bicep down to your wrist. Her manicured nails scraped over your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You felt a simmer of heat in your chest upon hearing those kind words coming from her painted lips. That combined with the teasing touch had your heart pumping a little faster in your chest. It was something you rarely thought about, but maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of why you enjoyed this job so much was because both of your employers looked like reoccuring stars in people’s wet dreams all over the world.

“Thank you. I would really appreciate it,” you answered, your prior trepidation dissolving under the heat of her gaze. You slid your check into your purse and then placed the bag back down on the end table by the door.

She smirked, though she tried to make it appear as an earnest smile. Of course, Ada sensed the little crush you had on her and her husband. It wasn’t hard to tell given the way you preened in the face of the slightest of compliments or gave them the look a puppy would give its owner whenever they praised you for your hard work.

“Great,” she said, “Come with me. I’ll put on some dinner. We’ll get you fed and then I’ll show you to your room and be out of your hair for the night.”

Her slender fingers clasped around your hand, guiding you back through that archway and towards the kitchen. The two of you passed by a few family portraits and expensive paintings before reaching your destination - the luxurious kitchen that probably held a value higher than all the money you’d made in your life.

You could fit about six of your kitchens in this one. That would be another nice thing about staying here for the night, getting to use the high end items they had stocked rather than the odds and ends you owned.

She led you across the gray marble floors over to the spacious island, all but sitting you down on one of the stools.

“You just relax for a few minutes, and I’ll work on the food,” she said.

You took your seat, not willing to protest her hospitality further. Your eyes scanned around the kitchen you’d become so familiar with over the last year. She walked into the pantry for a couple seconds, returning with a box and some small containers before setting them on the counter.

“You like pasta?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?” you responded.

She let out a small laugh at that. “No wonder Leon likes you so much. A girl after his own heart.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea that Mr. Kennedy liked you. Before hearing that, you didn’t suspect he had any problems with you. In fact, he let you know all the time that he was pleased with your performance and couldn’t ask for anyone better to take care of Christina. But appreciating you and liking you were two separate things, the latter of which gave you that warm feeling in your stomach.

In the corner of the counters, Ada bent down to grab a pot. Your eyes went with her, dragging along her figure to where her form-fitting black slacks covered the swell of her ass. As soon as you realized you were staring, you averted your gaze. You pushed out any further thoughts about how her red blouse was probably unbuttoned at the top, allowing a clear view of her breasts down the front of the shirt.

She stood back up with the pot in hand and filled it with some water. Tapping the electric stove to life, she put it on to boil. You watched as she poured some oil in the water and then grabbed a pan to put on for what you assumed would be the sauce.

With both pieces heating up, she moved to the cabinets up above. She reached for the one next to the section that held all of Christina’s dishes, her sippy cups and princess plates. The cupboard you took from most of the time you were here.

Instead of grabbing a Little Mermaid themed piece of tupperware, her hand retrieved two wine glasses. She spun around to face you and brought the fragile items over to the island. After placing them in front of you, she stepped into a nearby alcove, the place you knew they kept all the liquor.

She came back with a nice bottle, something more rich than you’d ever drink on your own. Popping it open, she went to pour, but you interrupted.

“I don’t really need any,” you said with a timid smile.

While you weren’t a prude about drinking under other circumstances, Ada was still your boss. Being under any kind of influence around her held a risk you didn’t find worth taking.

She just smirked at you though, not making any effort to conceal it this time.

“C’mon, loosen up a bit,” she coaxed, “You’re not on the clock. You’ve been working all week, even later today since I was late. Take it as my apology.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You paid me for the overtime,” you replied.

“Still. Keeping you longer than expected on short notice is inconsiderate,” she said. 

She rounded the counter with the bottle and your glass in hand. Upon reaching you, she set the glass down directly in front of you with the bottle beside it. The proximity left no room for hesitation. One of her hands came up, brushing across the back of your neck to rest on your shoulder like it had earlier.

“You’re not saying no because you think this is some sort of test, do you? Because I wouldn’t bother with something like that, sweetheart. I was young once too,” she told you. You swore she was leaning in closer as her voice became more of a purr next to your ear, but you didn’t dare look. “I know how good a drink can feel after a long week. You’re human. My husband and I don’t expect you to be a child-friendly saint even when you’re not working,” she continued.

Her fingers rubbed miniscule circles on the cloth of your top. You still didn’t think it was the best idea to drink around your boss, but Ada had never given you a reason not to trust her. It was quite the opposite. Most days, the Kennedys seemed too good to be true.

You knew they were human. Occasionally while speaking to you, they’d slip in a jab about the other or allude to some sort of marital problem that sprouted up after years of being together. They’d make mistakes like coming home late or forgetting to tell you that Christina’s dance lesson had been canceled until you were already on the way there.

But when it came to their relationships with you, they were absolute dreams. They gave you expensive gifts for your birthday and Christmas. Paid you above what was the standard for nannies in this area. Talked to you like someone they were interested in rather than a person they were forced to interact with. And hell, now they were offering up their home to you when you needed it.

“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” you agreed.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and tilted the bottle towards your glass.

Deep red liquid spilled into the curved dish. She wasn’t shy with how much she gave you, that was for sure. You could already smell that heady aroma swirling around the air.

“You can have as much as you’d like. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, we want you to feel at home here with us,” she said.

Before she walked away, her hand swept down your back, stroking it with a domineering, almost maternal sort of affection. It sent another round of chills through your body. You reached for the wine glass and gripped the stem hard. It was probably for the best that she and her husband weren’t actually around for most of your work here if this was how you reacted to a simple touch.

You brought the glass to your lips and sipped some of the liquid as she poured her own. After taking down some of the drink to numb your responsive nerves, you set it down again. You didn’t want to over-indulge.

“I really do feel at home here. I wasn’t saying no because I’m not comfortable with you. I just really care about what you and Mr. Kennedy think of me. I wouldn’t want you thinking you hired someone irresponsible to watch over your daughter,” you explained. What was left unspoken was that you didn’t want either of them thinking you were trashy in your own right either.

She nodded and stirred the bubbling sauce on the stove. She had to stop herself from saying I know. “That’s good. But you don’t need to worry so much. Both me and my husband think very highly of you,” she said instead.

A rush coursed through you upon hearing that. You smiled and raised your glass again, ingesting some more of the intoxicating liquid.

She watched out of the corner of her eye. It was a struggle to keep quiet and not fawn over how adorable you looked when you got all giddy. She kept her attention on dinner though, adding the noodles when the water reached a boil and spicing the sauce.

There was nothing she needed to say right now. She’d just be quiet and let you nurse that drink. It wasn’t that she needed the alcohol for what she wanted to do tonight. She could probably seduce you right now without much effort if she so desired. But tonight had been well-planned out, and for all the effort she put into it, she was gonna get everything she wanted out of it.

Ada had wanted you since the day they hired you. She could still remember the cute little outfit you wore on that Sunday you showed up for your interview. A nice plaid skirt with a dark sweater up top. Objectively modest but still attractive enough to garner attention. You’d been so polite, sitting with your ankles crossed and perfect posture. She could tell you were fighting off nerves with each answer you gave her and Leon. You were only the second candidate they’d met with, but Ada dismissed any other option before you’d even said your goodbyes.

That craving for you only became more intense over the last month or so. She’d had enough of coming home to you passed out on the couch, all sprawled out and vulnerable but not being able to take advantage. She was sick of only feeling grazes of the silken nature of your skin as she caught you before and after your shift.

That was why she calculated everything for tonight down to the minute. It would go off without a hitch. This wasn’t one of Leon’s missions that stumbled along and almost collapsed at multiple points before barely reaching the correct target. No, she’d thought this through.

By the end of the night, she would have you in the palms of her and Leon’s hands. She’d known this snow storm was coming, and she’d intentionally stayed a little later at work so that she’d be home by the time it was already raging outside and you’d put Christina to bed. She’d have the guest room for you, but you wouldn’t have any of your own belongings, which meant she’d have chances to lure you into her territory. She’d get you all peaceful and pliant by giving you a nice dinner and a fair amount of drinks. Everything would play out just like she intended it to.

She longed to see you at a baser state without any of your usual modesty impeding on your desires. She wanted you all giggling and cute, falling into her arms and spreading your legs without even being asked. You would love it. She just had to show you that.

She hummed to herself at a low volume while finishing up the food. Combining the curled pasta with the creamy sauce, she scooped two helpings onto each plate and made her way over to you with the dishes.

The two of you sat at the island, eating and drinking and talking. The conversation started on Christina but moved around to your personal life and her job among other subjects. She made sure to top off your wine whenever it got close to being empty.

“I know this job must keep you pretty busy, but do you do anything outside of it?” she eventually asked, “Maybe school or some other interests taking up your time?”

“Um… well,” you answered, “I tried out school for a while, and it wasn’t really the best fit for me… I messed around with some other things, and you know how that goes.”

A little laugh slipped from your lips. Your words were definitely more free-flowing than usual.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with taking things day by day,” she replied with a warm smile. She took a sip of her own drink before continuing her point. “You’re still young. You could stumble on something you don’t even know about right now.”

“Exactly!” you responded, all too excited to have someone agree with you, “That’s exactly how I feel. Like you know, this job. I feel like I won the lottery with you guys most days I’m here.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” she said.

“It’s the truth. Ugh, the kids I babysat in high school were nightmares. And their parents barely paid me anything. I wasn’t even allowed to eat the food at the house. It was horrible. But you guys, you’re perfect I swear. Christina is so sweet and funny and smart. And this house is great. And you and Mr. Kennedy, you two… you’re like dreams,” you rambled.

“Really?” she asked with mild amusement. She set her drink down and leaned forward on her forearms.

The way your eyes widened and your lips parted, you looked like a little fish upon realizing how your last statement sounded. “I just mean you guys are like so great to work for. My favorite job I’ve ever had for sure,” you added.

She reached out, laying her smooth hand on your wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, honey. You’re great to have around too. Much better than our last nanny,” she said, “She always had some complaint about something, and her hours never ended up being consistent. Plus, she wasn’t as cute as you.”

The statement struck you like a bolt of lightning. You were sure your eyes widened to the size of gold medals. Heat oozed up from your chest into your face. This honestly felt like a dream. In reality, you were supposed to think your boss was hot. You were supposed to thirst after them, pine for moments of reciprocation that would never actually happen. But one just did.

“Oh, thank you,” you shrugged, an involuntary smile pulling at your mouth.

A low, knowing laugh echoed from her without her lips ever breaking that calculated smile. Ada’s rich eyes stayed on yours, not letting you get a reprieve from eye contact that lasted longer than a handful of seconds. Her fingertips massaged little circles onto your wrist as you spoke. The light touches felt like the tips of sparklers against your skin. Each one sent tingling warmth up your arm down to your belly.

“Oh come on, don’t look so nervous,” she said, “You must get compliments like that all the time. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Again, you shrugged. “I guess,” you answered. The weight of her attention pressed on you, causing your gaze to lower to your lap.

She didn’t let you get away though. One of her hands ventured up to cup your jaw and pull your face upright. Her fingers lingered there as she stared at you. The curled, the flat backs of her knuckles smoothing across your cheek.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” she asked.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You shook your head no.

She hummed in response. Her fingers continued exploring the expanse of your cheek before dropping to lie on your shoulder.

“That’s good. No need to tie yourself to one person at your age. Though you do deserve someone to take care of you,” she said.

That dull heat in your stomach had long outgrown something so mild. It festered into full arousal by this point, a need hot and pulsating between your thighs. You bit your lip. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming in an attempt to grind on the stool.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, though the tone of your voice alone called the truth of that claim into question.

She laughed softly, the sound light and condescending. Her hand glided back and forth along your shoulder in short strokes.

“I’m sure you can, sweet girl. But you shouldn’t have to. You spend all week caring for someone else. You deserve to relax in your free time and have someone take over,” she said.

A visible shiver ran through you. Your teeth dug into the inside of your lip harder as you looked at her now.

“That does sound kind of nice,” you agreed.

She nodded along and brought her hand back to your face. One set of her nails lightly scraped along the frame of it, trailing down after to stroke your jaw. The sensation was enough to make your eyes flutter and send another small burst of desire through you.

“Of course it does,” she said, “You work so hard. You shouldn’t have to go home and cook or do dishes or laundry. You’re probably so tired by the time you get there.”

A hazy sigh puffed out from your mouth. “Yeah sometimes,” you confirmed.

“Mhm. Poor baby,” she cooed, “Someone should be there, letting you rest, doting on you like the precious thing you are.”

Now you felt as though you were glowing. Your breaths came in deep, lifting your chest up and down with each breath. A lazy, blissful smile sat on your features as your dreamy gaze fixated on her. Everything really was starting to feel like a dream. If you weren’t so captivated, you might have tried pinching yourself.

She chuckled at the expression before standing up. Her palms swept down to your shoulders again.

“You look tired, honey. We should probably get you some clothes to sleep in and then send you off to bed,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” you said and started to rise from the stool yourself.

“Perfect. Just finish this off for me, sweetheart,” she said and lifted your glass to your hand again. It was nearly empty, but it couldn’t hurt having you drink a few drops more.

Denying her didn’t even occur to you in this condition. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the remainder while she cleared the counter of other dishes. 

In the blink of an eye, she was back at your side. One of her arms slipped around your waist while the other held your shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praised, “Come with me.”

Again, you followed the order without a trace of resistance. You walked alongside her down the path you had come. This time around you leaned into her for support. Your head felt cloudy. A sense of dizziness pervaded every movement you made. She watched with pure satisfaction as she led you to the hall.

“There you go. We’re almost there,” she cooed as if you didn’t know the layout of the house.

You passed the front door and turned into the area that held the doors to one of the bathrooms and the office space. At the end of the small corridor, she opened up the double doors that led into her and Leon’s room. Despite being here five days a week, you rarely ever went in here. You could use one hand to count the number of occasions in which you ever needed to cross this threshold.

The decor was much darker than the rest of the house. Shades of gray morphed into dark black in here. Obsidian drapes framed the window, separated at the moment to let the moon shine through. All the furniture was crafted in deep tones of wood. The rug sprawled across the floor was nearly pitch black, spare the thin red designs sewn throughout.

You took it all in as if it was brand new to you. She paid your curiosity no mind and sat you down on the edge of her bed.

“Stay here for me. I’ll go find you something that fits you,” she said, running her hand over your head as if you were a prized pet.

You obeyed like one, not moving as she stepped away and into the walk in closet in the corner of the room. Your palms spread out on the bedding. The plush comforter tickled your fingers. It had to be one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Much different than the ratty old throw blankets you had on your bed back home.

A sigh seeped from your lips, and you found yourself laying back against the luxurious surface. You spread your arms out as though you were making angel wings in the snow outside. What would it be like to come home to this every night? To work hard all day and then be able to really relax in a place like this? To unwind with each one of your bosses at your side tending to you?

As these thoughts danced through your mind, you felt a hand grasp your thigh. You popped your head up to find Ada before you again, a couple pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” she teased.

“I wasn’t. Sorry. Your bed is just like really comfy,” you said with a small giggle as you sat up.

“Isn’t it? We just got this one last year. Leon loved our old one, but I just find this one so much easier to sink into,” she agreed.

“Mhm. For sure,” you said, nodding your head up and down with too much enthusiasm for the subject.

That didn’t matter though. Ada didn’t think she could find one thing wrong with you right now if she tried. Beside you, she laid out the few things she’d taken from the closet.

“I wasn’t really sure what type of clothes you liked to sleep in or what you would fit so I brought a few for you to choose from,” she said.

With a gentle hand, she directed your attention to the outfits on the mattress. There were two, and they looked like night and day. Two opposites with no neutral middle. 

The one on the left consisted of a small black camisole, one that had to belong to Ada. A pair of silky, navy blue shorts sat with them, another find from her side of the wardrobe. Next to those two was a large gray sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants, probably her husband’s if you had to guess.

Your eyes lingered on each. It appeared as though you were taking your time to decide, but really you just couldn’t stop trying to picture the clothing on their owners’ bodies. You imagined Ada’s soft curves covered by the thin cloth, her smooth thighs emerging from the shiny fabric of the shorts. Images of Leon flickered in your head too, the sleeves of that shirt rolled up to his elbows and leaving his forearms exposed. The plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips and giving you a nice view of his v-line.

While you stared at your options, she angled herself behind you, lifting one knee onto the bed. Her hands landed upon your shoulders to gently massage.

“Pick whatever you want. It’s totally up to you. You can take one or the other or combine the two. Maybe layer a bit since it’s so cold,” she whispered. She had leaned in right next to your ear. Her lips brushed your skin with every word.

It took everything you had not to whimper for more from her. Under normal circumstances, you would be squirming out of your skin, stuttering and awkwardly trying to justify her affection for you. But right now, you leaned back into it, letting the warmth flow through you.

She smiled and snaked her arms around your body, holding you tight against her. “I’ll have to buy you some clothes to keep here in case this ever happens again. We’ll keep a cute little wardrobe for you in the guest room, so you can stay whenever you like,” she added.

That pulled another giggle out of you along with growing the lazy smile on your face. “I’ll take both of these,” you finally decided and pulled the two tops toward yourself. You messily bundled both pieces into your lap.

“Great. But you still need some pants, sweetheart,” she teased.

“But I don’t like sleeping in pants,” you said and looked up at her with earnest eyes.

She reveled in your thoughtless confession but played it cool. “Are you sure? The bed upstairs has a lot of blankets and the heat should be on, but I wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she offered.

You shook your head. “I’ll be ok, but thank you,” you answered.

Standing up, you swayed on your feet a little. She rose from the bed herself and moved the rejected pairs of pants to the dresser nearby. When she turned to you and caught the wobbly nature of your stance, she moved in like a viper through tall grass and grabbed you by the elbow.

“Why don’t you just change in here? You know that way if you don’t like anything you won’t have to stumble up and down the stairs. Plus you can just leave your clothes here, and I’ll put them in the wash in the morning,” she said, making the offer as if it was based on a genuine desire to help you.

You blinked at her. “Like… change in here? In the bedroom?” you checked.

She nodded, her fingers gliding up your arm. “Mhm. We’re both girls, honey. No need to be shy. I’ll even turn around if you want me to,” she said in a way that somehow soothed you and set your whole body on fire.

You felt like a fireworks show was going off in your stomach. The adrenaline rushing through your veins made you light-headed, and the wine probably didn’t help. You couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“Alright,” you agreed with a heavy breath.

“Good girl,” she praised with a squeeze to your shoulder.

You felt your clit throb between your legs. At this point, you knew you’d probably have to rub one out as soon as you reached the privacy of the guest room.

Turning around, you dropped the two shirts back on the bed. Without much hesitation, you started to undress. Your shirt was first to go. You tucked your fingers beneath the hem and peeled it off.

Ada’s gaze focused completely on you as she saw the soft skin of your back completely exposed. This was the most important part of the night. If she messed up here, all of it would have been for nothing. She hadn’t planned out every minute movement she would make, but she could think on her feet. This would work.

She headed over near the closet entrance again but didn’t venture inside. She stood right outside in front of the full length mirror, a seemingly reasonable position where she was sure you’d be able to see her if you turned around.

Bending down, she unbuckled her heels and then kicked them to the side. She undid her slacks next and shimmied them off to pool around her ankles.

You heard the rustling of the fabric and the clicks of unfastening. It didn’t register in your mind what they would be coming from until you glanced over your shoulder and spotted her. Your jaw fell open while your eyes bulged from their sockets. You were pretty sure you stopped breathing in the middle of removing your bra.

She stood there as if nothing about this was odd. Her fingers worked on undoing the buttons on her blouse, parting the two sides and revealing a sliver of her skin. Her legs were already out in the open, all for your eyes to see.

In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she caught your wide-eyed stare. She spun around to face you head on. She unhooked the last button. Her shirt fell open, allowing you to see her flesh from her navel to her collar bone. Underneath the blouse, she still had on a lacy bra and matching panties.

Not missing a beat, she just chuckled and walked closer. “Did you get stuck, honey? Need some help?” she asked.

She approached your frozen form and brought her hands to your shoulders where your bra straps sat. Using her nimble fingers, she guided the thin pieces down your arms. The entire garment fell away and dropped to the floor in front of you.

“There you go. Let mommy help you,” she whispered.

This time you actually couldn’t tell if the words were real or imagined. They’d been so hushed, so faint, but you would swear on anything that you felt them fan over your neck.

She moved to your jeans next, flicking the button open and tugging the zipper loose. The denim crumpled under the force of her hands shoving them down. You stepped out of each pant leg before she kicked them aside along with your bra.

Her hands came to rest on your hips for a moment before gliding up your sides. They smoothed over your curves like streams of warm water. You felt the gentle pressure move from your sides around to your tummy. She was only teasing you right now. Her touches felt good, but they didn’t explore anywhere that would give you true pleasure.

“You have such soft skin,” she cooed.

“Thank you,” you hummed, preening under her touch.

“So tender and pretty. Perfectly smooth,” she whispered.

You were already melting under her hands, but she knew she could go further. She ducked in and kissed your neck. You moaned at the feeling, at her hot mouth latching onto your skin. She laid a few more there after to follow.

“Mmm, so sweet too,” she hummed.

You whimpered and let your head fall back onto her shoulder, leaving more of your neck accessible to her lips. She took advantage. Leaning in, she licked a stripe over your pulse and followed the trail of saliva with a series of kisses. Her teeth scraped across the sensitive flesh.

“A-ada…” you sighed.

“I’m right here, sweet baby,” she purred, “Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

“I bet it does. You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Jumping under every touch. I was like that at your age too,” she teased.

Her hands broke the little patterns they’d been tracing into your stomach to float upward. One by one they each landed on your breasts. Her palms cupped the mounds and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You have such a gorgeous body,” she said as she nuzzled the space behind your ear, “You’re so shy. So precious. Running around my house like a skittish little puppy.”

No words of protest or denial made their way out of you. It felt good to bask in her attention, to know that she saw you as something so delicate.

“I think I’m starting to understand why though,” she teased.

Her fingers went to your pebbled nipples, pulling and tweaking the sensitive nubs. You mewled and squirmed in her grasp.

“Mommy,” you whined, not caring if she had actually been the one to say it first.

“Mhm. Look at you, already calling me mommy. You were thinking about this, weren’t you baby? You’ve been wanting mommy to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, not being coy about it.

She grinned against your neck before turning you around. Once you could see her, she displayed a much more seductive expression. “Let mommy take care of you then,” she said.

With caring hands, she guided you onto the bed and laid you against a mountain of the pillows near the headboard. She crawled above you, looking down at you like a panther that had just caught its next meal.

“Let me have a taste of those lips. See if they're as soft as the rest of you,” she murmured before lowering herself.

She connected her mouth to yours. Her lips engulfed your own in a kiss, her tongue teasing you. You reciprocated. Your lips parted as you moaned, granting her access. She didn’t waste any time. Her breaths came out heavier as she focused herself entirely on you.

As her mouth worked on you above, her hands continued roaming your body below. She groped your hips and explored your thighs. You gasped softly at the mix of sensations, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“So impatient, baby,” she breathed as she pulled back, “You act like such a good girl all the time, but I bet that leaves you so desperate, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

She nodded and moved down to your neck again. Her mouth trailed over the skin with little pecks and soft sucks. The idea of leaving marks tempted her, but that could come later. She didn’t intend on this being her only time with you.

You felt her kisses migrate across your throat to your collarbone and down to the valley between your breasts. Her tongue played there for a moment, drawing out the moments before she would give you your first real taste of relief.

“Mommy, please,” you tried, eyes fluttering.

“So demanding,” she cooed. She moved her mouth to the right though and wrapped her lips around your nipple.

You arched your back off the bed and breathed out a whiny sigh. The tip of her tongue swirled around the bud. She laved at it, applying the perfect amount of pressure to get you squirming. Her hands massaged your waist in the meantime. She would make sure you felt good all over.

Your legs shifted around at the tingling building between your thighs. You craved some friction so badly, but she was still fixated on your chest. Her mouth released your nipple and planted one more kiss on it before she moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.

It got the same pleasured reaction out of you that only increased when one of her hands came up to toy with the sensitive peak that already experienced her mouth. You mewled without shame, digging her heels into the mattress.

She finally let it go as she had the other one, with a wet pop. Her eyes flitted up to you, taking in your breathless expression. After a couple seconds, she started kissing down your belly. She scooted herself down between your legs.

“You’re so needy,” she cooed, “No one’s taken care of you in so long. It’s left you aching.”

Her fingers ghosted over your thin panties, the ribbed fabric nowhere near as luxurious as hers. You watched her eyes follow her hands. The dark irises locked on your center. Her thumb traced the length of your cunt, grazing over your clit down to your leaking entrance. A nice wet patch began forming on the seat of your panties.

“That’s ok though. No one else could take care of you like mommy can. You’d be wasting your time.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you watched her tug your panties off, drooping with the weight of your lust. You felt the cool air hit the glistening folds between your legs as soon as your lower half was free of the thin covering.

“So wet for me already,” she said, “That’s my good girl. Always so eager to please.”

She didn’t waste time teasing. Why would she? After months of coveting, she finally had you within her grasp, ready for the taking. She gripped your thighs and dove in, flattening her tongue against your soaked core. With a broad stroke, her tongue dragged over the slick flesh.

You mewled in response. A soft gasp accompanied the sound. She spotted your fingers gripping the bedding. So responsive from the simplest of touches. You were going to be fun.

She attacked your clit next. First, she treated it with little flicks of her tongue. Quick and repetitive, it stroked the tiny bud until you let out a pretty whine. She then latched her lips on, sucking on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

All the thoughts in your head melted away. The only thing you could do at this point was babble out a small collection of words including “mommy” and “please more.”

She got into it. All her focus trained on you. This was what she had been dreaming of for a year after all. Ever since she saw you in that little plaid skirt. She’d have to have you wear it again one of these days so she could eat you out under it.

Your thighs squeezed around her head as she lapped at your entrance. It felt good, a more dull kind of bliss than what she’d brought you before, but still good. She didn’t mind the pressure from your legs. Her nails dug into your tender flesh and kept you right in place to continue on with her task.

You trembled and twitched with the ecstasy coursing through you. Your eyes rolled back, your vision going out for a second. It felt as though your head was engulfed by drowsy clouds straight from the heavens. The few people you had been with before never made you feel like this.

Your head had lolled back for a moment in the throes of carnal pleasure. When your vision started to return, you brought it back up to look at her again. Only she didn’t catch your attention this time.

Instead your pupils landed on the shadowy figure at the double doors you had entered through.

You practically jumped out of your skin before you realized who it was. She felt you startle and briefly looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to your pussy. The person stepped forward, allowing moonlight to cast over their figure and show their face.

Leon.

“It sounds like you broke her already,” he said as he approached the bed. Making his way to your pair, he ended up standing beside you. His eyes scanned over your nude body, drinking in every inch of your figure.

“I told you I’d have her nice and warmed up by the time you came home,” she replied, shooting him a smile from the crux of your thighs.

Their words flew over your head. You couldn’t really hear them with how fast your heart was beating. God, how could you have been so stupid? You totally forgot about Leon until this very moment. Apparently, a few drinks was all it took to let your pussy take control. All you had been thinking about for the last half hour was how badly you wanted Ada, how beautiful she looked laying in front of you, devouring you whole. The fact that she was married with a husband completely slipped your mind.

“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so sorry. I- um- We just-” you stammered, incapable of coming up with any sort of defense for your actions.

But he didn’t look mad. He sat down beside your shoulder, gazing down at you with some sort of affection in his eyes.

“I think I’ve told you before that I prefer when you call me Leon, sweetheart,” he told you, petting your head.

Biting your lip, you leaned into the touch. Your eyes looked so sweet gazing up at him as you did. He felt his blood beginning to flow South in response. His hand continued stroking over your scalp before moving to your shoulder, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingers.

“She’s been such a good girl for mommy,” Ada praised from below before rubbing your clit rapidly with her middle and index finger. The quick motion drew a whiny moan from you, only adding to Leon’s arousal.

His eyes flicked between you and his wife. “You didn’t give her too much to drink, did you?” he asked.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “She only had a few. What do you take me for?”

“Well she looks a little out of it. I just thought I’d check. My mistake,” he said, rubbing your cheek with his thumb absentmindedly.

She laughed softly at that. “You know I’m good with my mouth, darling. I don’t need any help getting her to look like that.”

You whimpered as she reattached her mouth to your cunt. Turning your head, you squished your face against his thigh. Your hips bucked. You could feel your release building up, the urge to let go flourishing inside you. Your noises became more high pitched, more needy. He looked down at you with something resembling curiosity with a trace of adoration.

“That feel good, baby? Not too much for you?” he asked.

“N- no, feels- mmph! Feels good,” you choked out between labored breaths. The hand closer to him flew up to grab at his thigh. Your digits dug into the material of his pants as another whine erupted from you.

He swapped his leg for his hand, letting you squeeze his palm as hard as you wanted.

“That’s it. Good girl. Hold daddy’s hand. I’ve got you,” he hummed.

Ada let her hand take over again and brought her head up to watch the two of you.

“Are you close, honey?” she asked.

“Mhm,” you responded instantly.

“Good. I want you to cum for me, ok? Cum for mommy and daddy. We’re gonna get you all nice and wet before you take daddy’s cock,” she said with the sweetest smile on her face in contrast to her dirty words.

You jolted at the prospect. A sharp breath tore through you right before your orgasm did. Your body shook and convulsed, arching and rolling as if you were possessed. Vaguely, you could hear both of their voices. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tones were that of praise.

The world around you faded away as you came on her fingers. Your chest puffed up and down with heavy breaths, and your head went limp against Leon’s leg.

Moments later as you began to come down, you felt him shift your weight onto the pillows. His presence receded and more hushed words filled the room. You heard fabric crinkling and a belt hitting the floor.

The mattress dipped as he climbed back on. Your eyes cracked open in time to see him kneeling between your legs. His hands rested on your bent knees, fingers caressing your skin. 

Your eyes swept over one of the bodies you’d been imagining in recent months. You could see the few veins that marked his forearms and biceps. He was still muscular despite getting older, but he had begun to fill out a little with some softer flesh. Brown hair dusted the skin from his navel down to a thicker patch of it at the base of his cock.

Meanwhile, Ada landed by your side. You took a breath, and her scent overwhelmed you in place of Leon’s. Her curves pressed up against you. Your head rested against the cushion of her breasts while you could feel the smoothness of her belly against your arm.

She kissed the crown of your head, nestling her nose against your hair. “You ready for daddy, baby? I know he’s ready for you,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching Leon as he gave his cock a few tugs. His eyes remained soft even in the midst of his desire.

While Leon wasn’t the one who’d hatched this plan to get you here, that didn’t mean he was oblivious to your beauty. There was a reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. He’d become just as enamored with you in the same time his wife did. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it was such a cliche at his age, he couldn’t stop himself from lusting after the babysitter.

He was only human. It was only natural for his eyes to linger on your waist when you squatted down to say goodbye to his daughter. The flutter in his stomach when you hugged him from the side a few times was just a matter of instinct. It wasn’t his fault the sound of your laughter nearly had him drooling or that the sight of you carrying his child to the car made him weak in the knees.

At least that’s what he told himself. That it was just a harmless crush. Something he’d never act on or get to experience anywhere other than the little scenarios that played in his head while he jerked off in the shower.

But then he found out his wife had an interest in you too. Your name came up during an intimate moment of their own. Between kisses, Ada asked him what he thought of you. He had pulled back, confused by the sudden question (and slightly nervous that he’d have to discuss you while already half-hard).

“Uh… she’s good. Christina likes her. She’s sweet, responsible, hardworking. Little shy, but I’m sure that’s just when we’re around,” he’d shrugged.

“Not like that,” she’d rolled her eyes and leaned back in to kiss his neck, “What do you think of her? She’s young, pretty, looks at you like you hung the stars. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little babysitter fantasy before, darling.”

At first he’d thought it was a test. He denied it, proclaiming that was wrong. He only had interest in his wife, and you were just trying to do your job. The fact that you were easy on the eyes meant nothing to him. He didn’t care about your sparkling eyes or soft lips or nice curves. He didn’t notice the sweet sound of your voice or any of your cute little mannerisms. Pffft. No way.

“That’s a shame. Because I think she’s beautiful. She’s just so sweet and cute, and she doesn’t even know. The only place she could look any better is lying between us. And you know she’d be so sensitive to every little touch. She’d whimper like a little puppy,” she whispered against his skin.

In that moment, all his guilt had zapped away. He groaned at her words, accepting them without hesitation. There was no jealousy on his end, absolutely no discomfort at the idea of his wife lusting for someone else. Not when that someone else was you.

Because it meant that he got to have you like he did right now, spread out before him all blissed out and pretty. He guided his length to your entrance and dragged the tip over your folds. It glided through your wetness, nudging your clit before falling back down.

“You sure you’re ready, princess?” he asked.

“Mhm. Pretty please,” you affirmed, natural puppy dog eyes on display.

“Look at you. So polite,” he mumbled.

He prodded the head at your entrance, popping it inside. For a few moments, that was all that entered you. He let you adjust to the intrusion and let himself get used to the vise-like clamp of your velvety walls. The few seconds were necessary if he didn’t want to humiliate himself by blowing his load in less than a minute.

After that time though, he began easing it inside of you inch by inch. You whined at the light stretch. Ada stroked your arm with one hand and caressed the swell of your breasts with the other.

“That’s right, honey. You’re taking him so well,” she crooned.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Leon grunted.

Ada grinned at that before looking at you again. “Are you squeezing daddy nice and tight? Showing him where to go?” she teased.

You moaned and nodded while Leon groaned and shut his eyes. Ada kissed your cheek as her husband bottomed out. Her hand fell to your stomach, rubbing over it. He leaned forward. His palm pressed down next to you on the mattress to keep his balance. He hovered above you, blue eyes looking down with lidded awe.

Pulling his hips back, he rocked them forward again right after. He dragged his pelvis away and then brought it right back, flush against your core. You whimpered with each movement. The satisfying slide sent warmth through you each time.

“Atta girl. Taking it so well, just like mommy said,” he mumbled.

Now he pumped his hips with more dedication. He increased his speed. Exploratory moves became deliberate strokes. Leon settled into a rhythm. He swiveled his hips and angled the way he pistoned them based on the little noises you’d make and the expressions that took over your face. He paid close attention to it all, wanting to learn what you liked, what made you feel good.

Ada continued moving her hands along your form. One moment she played with your nipples, the next she held your hips, after that she pulled your knees up further. It was dizzying trying to keep up.

“Our sweet girl,” she cooed in your ear, “Precious baby. Maybe this should be your new job. You’re good at your other one, but I think we’d like having you all to ourselves.”

Leon groaned again, his head hanging forward. Although the words had been directed at you, they had just as much of an effect on him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” he asked, “Sitting around and looking pretty. Letting us spoil you like you deserve”

“You know she would. Do you even have to ask?” Ada said, “She’d love it. Spending the day kneeling between your legs while you work, using that mouth of hers whenever you want.”

“She could spend some with you too. Sit on your lap and let you play with her with one hand while typing with the other,”  he offered in return.

“And then one day, if she’s really good, maybe daddy will breed that cute little pussy and fuck a baby into her,” she whispered.

Leon’s hips snapped against you hard as you turned to eye her. The words broke you out of the spell his cock had you under before.

“What?” you asked.

She chuckled and cupped your jaw, giving you a patronizing kiss.

“What, sweetheart? You’d like that wouldn’t you? It’d make mommy and daddy so happy, you giving us another baby,” she said.

Your head spun at the idea. You blinked and sputtered. In your right, rational mind, you’d put a pause to this. But with a few drinks in you and one orgasm already under your belt, the idea didn’t sound all too bad. It’s not like you were gonna sign a contract or something. They weren’t even asking you to agree to anything right now. But just imagining it…

“You’d look so pretty, babydoll. Your hips all rounded out, all those curves nice and full, that cute stomach swollen with our baby,” Leon sighed.

Imagining it was in fact fun you decided. Your pussy clenched around him again before relaxing. You heard Ada moan softly beside you. Glancing over, you could see her fingers moving beneath her panties, working herself to the edge alongside you.

“You’d love it, honey. You’re made for it. And we’d take such good care of you, make sure you had everything you could want,” he added.

“Mmmm… daddy,” you babbled, unable to voice the full extent of your enthusiasm.

“Uh huh. Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna fill you up. You’re first little taste, yeah? I’ll get you nice and full so you know how it feels,” he moaned.

His bicep flexed as he continued to pound into you. Over and over, he slammed into your cunt. Ada continued moaning beside your ear. Her own noises were growing more desperate. You could feel her hips rocking up to meet her own touch.

“Daddy gonna- gonna- ah- gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead, pumpkin,” he grunted, “Cum for daddy. Let me see my pretty girl let go.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You let release wash over you in a smooth wave. Your body writhed and twitched below his. You squirmed atop the blankets, letting your muscles melt into the plush comfort of them.

Next to you, Ada reached the high too. Watching you fall apart was the final straw in her own resolve. She bucked her hips and nuzzled into your throat while crumbling under the bliss of release.

Leon was the last one to join the club. He fucked you through your euphoria while approaching his own. When he finally hit it, a strangled moan burst from him. He fell forward against you, burying his face in the side of your neck not occupied by his wife. His hands gripped your hips and held them in place as he rolled his pelvis against your ass like a dog in heat. He fucked rope after rope of hot cum into you.

By the time he pulled out, you were nice and full just like he said you would be.

You were also undeniably sleepy. Your eyes were all but shut, and your body was curling up as though you were ready for a nap.

He stretched his arm out and pulled you against his side to rest. His other hand rubbed down your body, tenderly coasting over your soft skin.

“Such a good girl for us. You were so good,” he murmured, “Our sweet baby.”

Ada scooted near your back, her hand joining Leon’s in soothing you.

“Don’t keep her all to yourself,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You had her to yourself hours before I got here,” he dismissed.

She smirked and pecked his lips before looking down at you. Leaning in, she nuzzled your ear. “Sleep now, baby. You need the rest. Daddy will carry you to bed in a little bit,” she whispered.

Like before, you didn’t need any convincing. Your muscles relaxed as they got comfortable and pulled the blankets into place. You let yourself drift off between their two bodies while the storm raged on outside. Your mind slipped into dreamland, letting reality melt away for a little while.