#cherry wood dining chair
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Dining Room - Traditional Dining Room
Mid-sized elegant medium tone wood floor enclosed dining room photo with beige walls
#cherry wood dining chair#ornate mirrored console#ornate wood frame#beige dining room#mirrored console table#dining table wood#console in dining room
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Dining Room - Great Room Idea for a great room with a large contemporary medium-tone wood floor, white walls, a regular fireplace, and a stone fireplace.
#wicker dining chairs#exposed wood beams#terrace doors#contemporary dining room#great room#brazilian cherry#steel posts
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Portland Maine Dining Room Kitchen Dining a medium-sized Danish-style kitchen and dining room combination with white walls and a brown floor but no fireplace.
#craftsman style#scandinavian dining table#cherry dining table#maple chair#bread board wood table#original design
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Kitchen Dining in Birmingham Mid-sized traditional kitchen/dining room design with a red floor and brick floor, gray walls, and no fireplace.
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Solid Wood Round Mikado Dining Table
Make a statement in your dining room with the Ethnicraft Mikado round dining table. This beautiful piece of furniture combines timeless design with modern functionality, making it the perfect addition to any home.
Crafted with care and precision, the Mikado dining table is made from high-quality materials to ensure durability and longevity. The round design makes it ideal for intimate dinners or casual gatherings, while the spacious tabletop provides ample room for your guests and essentials.
The Mikado dining table is a standout piece, featuring a unique design that's sure to turn heads. The beautiful blend of traditional and contemporary elements creates a look that's both stylish and timeless, making it a piece you'll cherish for years to come.
Bring home the beauty of the Ethnicraft Mikado round dining table. Visit Cherry Tree Depot today and shop now at https://cherrytreedepot.com/products/round-dining-table-ethnicraft-mikado. This stunning piece of furniture is the perfect choice for those who want to make a statement in their dining room.
#round dining table#mikado dining table#solid wood table#contemporary design chairs#mikado table#cherry tree depot
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Dining Room (Boston)
#Enclosed dining room - mid-sized traditional dark wood floor enclosed dining room idea with multicolored walls upholstered dining chair#chandelier#white columns#striped bench#cherry blossom#wallpaper
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Through The Skin
Real Uncle!Leon
Dead dove warning.
7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.
I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.
Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.
As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.
PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.
To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.
You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.
Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.
“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.
Uncle Leon.
You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.
Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.
It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.
You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.
“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.
You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.
“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.
“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.
You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.
“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”
You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?
You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.
When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.
“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.
“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.
“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.
“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.
“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.
“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.
“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.
“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.
“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.
“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.
Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.
“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.
“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.
Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.
“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.
“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.
“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.
“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.
“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.
“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.
“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.
“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.
“Later, babydoll.”
He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.
You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.
“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.
“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.
—
It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.
You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.
After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.
“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.
“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.
“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.
“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.
He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.
“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.
You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.
“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.
“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.
Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.
“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.
You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.
You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.
“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.
Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.
“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”
Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?
You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.
You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.
He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.
“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.
You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.
“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.
You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.
“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.
“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”
The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.
It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.
“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.
“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.
“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.
“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.
You shake your head no.
“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.
Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.
“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.
“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.
You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.
Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.
While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.
He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.
“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.
“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.
“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.
You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.
When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.
He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.
“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.
“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.
He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.
His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.
“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.
Either way, he’s feeding your ego.
You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.
“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.
Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.
“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.
You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.
“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.
He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.
“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”
You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.
“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”
Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.
“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.
“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”
You nod your head.
“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”
His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.
“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.
“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.
“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.
“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.
His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.
“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”
You shake your head no.
“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”
He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.
“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”
He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.
“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.
His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.
He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.
He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.
“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.
“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.
“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.
Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.
#dark diary#leon kennedy#leon kennedy death island#leon kennedy vendetta#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon s kennedy#tw#tw inc*st#i’m literally crazy abt him#tw dead dove#dead dove fic
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Japanese craftsmanship sings in every room. The octagonal pass-through window is a perfect circle on the kitchen side. The cupboard's wooden doors slide effortlessly in any weather without metal fittings. The dining table, made of rare Indian laurel, and the cherry wood chairs are by the late George Nakashima, who was considered the elder statesman of the American crafts movement.
At Home With Japanese Design: Accents, Structure and Spirit, 1990
#vintage#vintage interior#1990s#90s#interior design#home decor#dining room#Indian#laurel#cherry#furniture#chairs#George Nakashima#craftsman#shoji screen#minimalist#Japanese#style#home#architecture
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18+ MDNI. NSFW Twitter Link.
Making brat!Haechan squirm
It really is a relief whenever Hyuck comes home from tour. Being separated for so long is the worst because all you want to do is use him, and all you can think about is how he’s teasing fans on stage and texting you nasty things from his hotel room every night. So when he comes home from tour, you can’t bear the thought of letting him go. You just miss him too much. The second he’s through the door, he’s acting all innocent, like he hadn’t told you for the past month that he wished he were fucking you instead of his hand, or that he wished he was cumming down your throat instead of into a tissue. You let him wander innocently. Occasionally watching as he unpacks his bags and talks about how tour went, all while you’re setting up the fun you have in store for him in the living room. When he walks out and sees what it is, he freezes. A look in his eye tells you he’s thinking about making a run for it, but you stand between him and the doorway……… “Strip.” So he does. “Sit.” So he does, sitting on the wooden dining table chair you put in the living room, a towel folded underneath him to act as a cushion, but also to save you from having to do too much clean up later. “Hands.” Haechan whimpers as he puts his hands at his sides so that you can cuff them to the chair, preventing him from escaping what you had planned. Haechan immediately holds onto the seat of the chair for support when you take his hard cock in one hand to keep him steady while you use your other hand to press the bulb of a hitachi wand against his sensitive erection. “Noona, wait, wait, too much, I’m sorry.” But was he really? A month away and he couldn’t stop himself from touching without permission? Even worse- Cumming without permission… And the cherry on top was teasing you about it too. Well, fine, if he wanted to cum so badly, you’d indulge him. You drag the wand up and down his length. Hyuck bucks around in a futile attempt to get away. “Noona, Noona, Noona—“ He looks like he can’t think straight the way his toes are curling against the wood floor, his hands are grabbing onto the chair for dear life, his head is thrown back against the wall, and his eyes are squeezed shut so tightly his entire face is beginning to contort from the pleasure. “Close—“ He bucks up into the toy for more. “Please, may I cum, Noona?” Oh, so now he could remember to ask politely? “Cum, baby.” The cutest series of moans escapes him as he rides out his high, cumming all over his soft tummy. For good measure, you leave the toy there for a bit, enjoying the way his moans turn into cries and pleas for you to stop, but even after a second orgasm which you pry out of him just to see those cute tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, you pull the toy away to make him think you’re finally done……. Until you’re swiping up the mess he’s made on his stomach and using it as lubricant to overstimulate his poor, softening cock. Hyuck pleads with you. He mumbles all kinds of exchanges, deals, apologies- But they all fall on deaf ears while you’re busy enjoying the sight of him desperately squirming, his stomach tensing and untensing with every deep breath… “Doesn’t matter how long you’re away, sweet boy,” you say, “you don’t break our rules. Got it?” “Yes, Noona— Yes! Please! I’m so sorry! Please! It’s too much!” Finally… you give him reprieve, leaving him alone. He slumps and sighs, "Thank you, Noona." Cum leaks from his cock and drips down his stomach and thighs. He looks absolutely ruined. The best look for Hyuck. The look only you get.
#op#fanfic#haechan#haechan fanfic#haechan smut#nct#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 smut#nct dream#nct dream fanfic#nct dream smut
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Inferna Victoria
Dining with the devil and having to answer for your breaking and entering...and sleeping with his personal incubus.
This was fun to write, most likely will follow it up with a part 2! But I needed to get this out of my system.
PLUS their banter is SO fun to write. I just love the way Raphael speaks.
Raphael x Reader | Victory dinner that was promised but we never got | OH he KNOWS about the Haarlep incident | light smut towards the end
“What an unexpected pleasure.”
You turned, the heels of your shoes sliding easily on the dark marble. Your nose almost brushed against his, the scent of musk and cherries causing your head to spin for a moment before you could regather your senses. From the tone of his greeting, there was nothing “unexpected” about your visit.
You raised a coy brow. “Do most devils not have a sense of personal space?”
Raphael didn’t return your smirk. His usually playful expression had become sharp almost tense. Warm whiskey eyes drank in your features, your face turned up as he towered over you, your chests almost touching.
When next he spoke, his lilting cadence had deepened into something akin to primal. A dark timbre sweetened by a fondness the cambion only seemed to harbor for you.
“You have served your purpose to the letter of our contract. Why are you here?”
So enraptured were you by his hypnotic gaze you didn’t initially feel his hands skimming up the outside of your arms, tracing the curve of your body as they moved down to your hips.
Playful words spilled unbidden from your eager mouth. “You promised me a dinner.” Your breath caught in your throat, taken aback by his soft touch before his fingers sharpened their grip on your soft flesh. “I came quite ready to partake.”
“So I gathered.” Your ill-disguised flirtations clearly pleased Raphael. With one hand remaining low at your waist, he guided you into the dining hall. His heavy gaze continued to burn into you, try as you might to act oblivious. You could practically feel the trails his eyes were scorching into every facet of your visage. “Always such an eager little thing. An excellent client and an even better co-conspirator.”
You snorted a laugh, watching him as he sank down languidly against a rather gaudy mahogany chair and stretched his long limbs, placing one booted foot atop the table. “You are pleased with my success, I take it?”
“I cannot sing your praises enough.” Now Raphael smiled, easing the unexplained tension between you two as he picked idly at his nails. “The souls I tend to in my dungeon especially are regaled by the tale of your saving a world they can never return to.”
“Prolonging their suffering?” You rolled your eyes, expecting nothing less, never forgetting his true nature. “How appropriate.”
“Enhancing.” Raphael corrected, his foot shifting off the table as he rose to his feet and met your gaze squarely. “You are more familiar with me than most who enter my home, little hero.” The endearment rang with irony. “I am glad you came. However uninvited. Which…” He tapped long fingers against polished wood, his smile gaining an edge. “Brings up a breach of contract I’ve wished to address after you won me the crown.”
You felt a pit open in your stomach, knowing very well what Raphael was referring to. You opened your mouth to quickly defend yourself, but he interrupted, gesturing to the large table. “Sit.”
As you obeyed, sitting upon a plush seat and tensing as Raphael circled behind. His large hands gripped the back of your chair, and you felt the stirrings of your hair beneath his breath. “If you wished me to entertain you in my Boudoir, you had but to ask nicely.”
“I…” You had no excuse. “I apologize.”
“A sweet sentiment, but I do not accept it.” Raphael’s presence shifted and he walked slowly to the grant mahogany seat opposite yours, taking a moment to look down upon you before he sat.
“Enlighten me as to the innerworkings of your mind.” Raphael continued speaking slowly, his elegant brow arching imperiously. “What gives a small speck of a mortal the right to enter the home of a devil uninvited?” He leaned forward, observing your silence with an air of condemnation. “Speak, ere I exact penance and take your leaden tongue for insolence.”
Your heart stuttered, this was not how you expected your victory dinner to go. “Gale was quite insistent we find a way into your home to, uh, destroy our contract.”
“Here I thought wizards had a modicum of intelligence.” Raphael didn’t look pleased, nor did he appear as livid as you expected. He leaned back and gestured for you to continue.
“Upon entry, your house was a mess by the way, I had second thoughts. Betraying your trust would pitch me into inevitable conflict with you…and I don’t want that.”
“Do go on.” Raphael wore a smirk, halfway between mocking and amused. “You are at the cusp of this story’s climax.”
You felt the heat of the room intensify as your face flushed. “Yes, well…upon gaining entry to your room, your Boudoir, I met someone who gave me very little choice to walk away freely without giving something of myself first.”
“Thus, like a good mouse you wriggled and squeaked atop my bed before turning tail and running back to your little hole.” Raphael finished and nodded, seeming satisfied.
“I didn’t take anything…or disturb anything.” You defended yourself.
“You took pleasure from my incubus.” Like the changing tides, Raphael’s mood darkened yet again. He raised a finger and tilted his head. “Yet, you left something behind that balances the scales somewhat.”
“I’m not sure it balances the scales. They still seem quite tipped against my favor.” You said, a little testily.
Raphael smiled shrewdly in response, his gaze drifting over your form. “I returned to my home to find Haarlep in your form, lounging naked in my pool.”
“Ah.”
“Indeed.”
You wracked your brains, trying to remember if you’d felt anything like the sensual tingle Haarlep had hinted at when he made love in your form. You hadn’t felt it yet…which meant Raphael hadn’t taken advantage of Haarlep’s conquest. Yet.
“I am ever the gentleman.” Raphael’s honeyed voice dripped irony, seeming to read your thoughts. “And in that vein, I indeed promised you a dinner to celebrate our victory.”
You rallied quickly, tucking into the food with the eagerness of one who is famished. “Speaking of veins, wait until you hear what happened with Astarion.”
Raphael listened, intent and focused as he always was whenever you spoke with him. The topic of your exchange with Haarlep seemed momentarily shelved, though you knew there was no chance of it being forgotten.
Raphael chortled in his familiar way, close-mouthed and smug, as you finished regaling him with the latest events. “What a quaint image. You revel at last in the success of your intrepid adventures, some more fruitful than others.”
“I’m satisfied.” You took another small bite of the roasted meat and sipped the wine.
Raphael peered at you, evidently not interested in eating. “Truly? How unlike you.”
“You presume to know me?”
“Better than most.” Raphael answered, that damnable smile back on his face. “To illustrate this fact…Haarlep, join us.”
Slinking out from the shadows of a marble column walked Haarlep, you felt a jolt of dread at seeing the incubus wearing your naked form brazenly. Haarlep caught your eye, smiled widely, and did a little twirl to show off all your assets.
You sank down into your chair, mortified.
“Come.” Raphael beckoned for Haarlep to straddle his lap and the incubus hopped merrily aboard.
“I can feel our little hero’s lust from here.” Haarlep purred, taking Raphael’s ear between their teeth as they looked at you through your own eyes. “Delicious, and oh so familiar.” Haarlep maintained teasing eye contact with you as their hands drifted down, giving you a torturous show.
You saw Raphael’s movements, saw Haarlep throw their head back in exaggerated pleasure, Raphael’s teeth scraping across the exposed throat that should be yours.
“I was in the middle of quite serious negotiations, pet, when you decided to take advantage of my body.” Raphael gripped the soft flesh of Haarlep’s bottom, and you felt the corresponding touch echo ghostlike across your own skin. “I experienced everything.”
A rush of heated arousal awakened in the pit of your stomach; you squeezed your thighs together. Raphael’s eyes were drawn to the movement. He smiled. “Yes, I was quite aware, though I could only guess as to who soiled my bed. It was irksome, a distraction from my business.”
Raphael slowly turned more of his attention to Haarlep and left you feeling frustrated and cold. You felt only a hint, not nearly enough to gain release, and you didn’t dare touch yourself.
Haarlep cooed and giggled in your voice, your ears burned to hear such lewd sounds.
Only when Haarlep began riding Raphael in earnest did your resolve finally break. “Raphael, please.”
Large hands gripped Haarlep’s hips and stilled their movement. “Please what, pet?”
Your pride stilled your tongue. Raphael chuckled and groaned as Haarlep resumed their bouncing movements. “Such a lovely, supple thing you are.”
“Surely, you don’t want simply a cheap imitation of me.” You were becoming desperate, and keenly aware he could read right through you.
Haarlep let loose with a particularly loud moan and then placed their fingers to their lips, grinning wickedly at you.
Raphael’s hips began moving in rhythm, his breathing audible. “I could turn the same petulant quip…” He took a deep breath. “…back to you, my dear.”
Damn him.
“I want you. That’s why I came to your house. I want you, the real you.”
Raphael stilled Haarlep, using his hands to quell their eager movements. The incubus looked momentarily taken aback, giving Raphael a pout you hoped to never see again upon your face.
Raphael paid them no mind, his hooded gaze finally finding yours. He sat in silence for a long moment then rose to his feet, easily displacing the incubus.
Raphael extended a hand.
“Come to me then.”
#raphael#bg3#smut#fanfic#raphael baldur's gate 3#raphael x reader#raphael x tav#raphael fanfic#haarlep
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Wow, huge 1940 English Tudor in Cherry Hills Village, CO has 5bds, 12ba, $13.5M. Well, let's see what we get for $13.5M. Interesting that they chose Fu Dogs to guard an English Tudor. Don't they have Corgi statuary?
Well, I must say this is impressive. Beautiful wood, is that a balcony up there? Look at the fireplace wall- it's massive.
Wonder why they would put wire outdoor chairs in front of it.
What a ceiling. I don't know, when modern combines w/old, it can blend, but this is distracting.
Very formal dining room. Look at the fireplace and gold chandelier.
The kitchen is amazing. The cabinetry must've cost a fortune. Beautiful countertops and look at the massive stove hood.
What a fabulous primary bedroom. Deal breaker if the sheep doesn't convey.
Settle down in the beautiful tub in front of the fireplace.
The closet. Wonder what's up the spiral stairs.
Yipes, stripes! Love the horse, but he looks silly w/the lampshade on his head.
Must be like a conversation table.
Pool table in a step-down sunken room. Very sophisticated.
Hall of brick arches.
Very large wine tasting room.
TV room.
Outside there's tennis and shuffleboard.
Patio overlooking the pool.
Look at the gardens.
Gated property.
2.69 acres. Beautiful property.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3-Churchill-Dr-Cherry-Hills-Village-CO-80113/99675851_zpid/
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Wine & Dine. (Larissa Weems x Reader.) NSFW.
Summary: Principal Weems invites you to her office for wine, with other ideas in mind.
Warnings: alcohol, teasing, principal x teacher (18+), age gap, lots of smut
"How's the wine, darling?" Larissa's sultry voice snapped you back into reality as you raised your glass to your lips, almost-mechanically taking a sip.
"It's good," you smiled up at the tall blonde as you remained seated a few feet away from the warmth of the fireplace. Larissa was watching you with curious eyes. She leaned back against the wall, a mere foot to the left of the glowing fire, "Thank you, Principal Weems."
"Oh please, [y/n]," the blonde started, playfully rolling her eyes, "Call me Larissa. The formalities are unnecessary."
A rosy blush formed on your cheeks as you nodded in understanding, eyes darting down to the polished rim of your wine glass.
You weren't sure whether it was the wine making you so flustered or the fact that Larissa was being so informal with you tonight. Maybe it was the way that the tall woman was pressed against the cool wall; one arm crossed, the other holding her glass.
She had abandoned her heels long ago after you had been invited in for a 'teachers bonding' evening, along with the matching blazer to her skirt. All that covered the woman now, was her white button up, black pencil skirt and nude stockings. Every so often, Larissa would wedge one foot behind her, resting it on the wall. Her skirt would ride up, and you'd be welcomed with the teasing sight of the beige lace hold-ups that wrapped around her thighs.
It was easy for you to admit to yourself that you were attracted to the woman that stood before you. The thoughts that swarmed your mind whenever you braved to look up and make eye contact with her, were beyond inappropriate, and you were happy to blame that on the empty wine glass in between your fingers for now.
Not that you hadn't thought about her like this before — of course you had. But this was the first time you had Larissa completely to yourself. No distractions, no interruptions. Just you both. Alone. Bonding.
A long, breathy sigh broke you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see Larissa set her wine glass down onto the ledge of the fireplace.
"It's getting quite warm in here. Don't you think so, darling?" The blonde furrowed her eyebrows innocently as she brought her fingers to the top button of her white shirt.
Your mouth fell slightly open in disbelief. If you weren't so focused on Larissa's slow movements, you would've noticed her red lips curl at the corners at your reaction.
"Y-Yeah," you were quick to recover as you swallowed hard, watching as the principal loosened the first four buttons of her shirt.
Your mind was foggy, spinning even, as you felt blood rush to your cheeks, observing as Larissa began walking to her desk with a swing to her hips. She picked up the half-full bottle of wine that rested on the wood of her desk and brought it over to where you were sitting.
"Oh dear, let me refill this for you," Larissa looked down at your empty glass which you carefully lifted towards her.
You quietly thanked her as she situated a hand on the back of your chair, her other hand gently beginning to pour the scarlet liquid.
The blonde towered over you, bending down slightly as to not spill a drop. Or so, that's what you thought. Up until her nearly-unbuttoned shirt caught your eye and you realised you had full view of her chest. The lace that cloaked her chest was a cherry red, matching the shade of her full lips, which almost matched the shade of your cheeks and the tip of your ears as a heat flushed over you.
Larissa must've known what she was doing. The smirk that played on her lips was all too obvious. And as she lifted up and made her way opposite to you, ridding her hands of the bottle that had been occupying them, you let out a deep, shaky breath, hoping she wouldn't notice.
By the time you felt like you could breathe normally again, the tall blonde was relaxed against a chair beside you, wine glass back in hand as she took her time with the sweet beverage.
"So," you cleared your throat, praying that your voice wouldn't fail you now, "Did you wish to speak to me about anything in particular? I know I haven't been here long, but I truly feel at home here. And when I heard you wanted to speak with me, I worried that maybe you had an issue with my teaching."
"Oh, darling," Larissa smiled kindly. She sat up straight and scooted closer towards you, resting a warm hand on your knee, "You have nothing to worry about. In fact, I have nothing but praise for you."
"Oh."
"I just wanted to make sure you're settling in. Plus, we haven't had quite enough time to speak properly without interruptions, don't you agree?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt Larissa's hand move upward, slowly drawing circles along your thigh.
"In fact," the blonde paused, setting her drink down onto the floor as her hand remained a comforting touch on your skin, "I was hoping I'd get to show you my appreciation for your work here."
"Y-Your appreciation?" You furrowed your eyebrows softly, ignoring the excitement fizzing in your lower stomach.
"Please, [y/n], let's stop the innocent act, darling. I know what you think about when you're looking at me," Larissa's hand wandered closer and closer towards your aching pussy. So close, you could've sworn you felt her fingers brush past your clit in a teasing touch. "I see it all in your eyes, so let’s not lie to ourselves."
"I—," your breathing had rapidly increased in response to her touches. However, you couldn't bare to admit you felt this way about your boss. "I don't know what you're talking about, Principal Weems."
"Hm," Larissa hummed in faux disapproval, a stern-yet-nonchalant look washing over her face as her fingers descended back down towards your knee.
"Wait—" Setting your glass down onto the side table with one hand, your other hand grabbed onto Larissa's in urge, "Please."
Ruby lips turned upwards as the tall blonde raised an eyebrow at you, "What is it, darling?" Her hand stubbornly stilled, waiting for you to redeem yourself.
A whine escaped your throat before you could even register it, as with every passing second you felt more and more desperate for Larissa's touch. She was right.
"You were right," thoughts spoken out loud, you bit your lip in anticipation and nerves, "I-I'm attracted to you, Larissa. You're beautiful. You—" before you could finish, the red-lipped blonde had grasped a fistful of your shirt and pulled you up off the soft surface you had been nested in, and onto her lap in a desperate kiss.
You straddled her lap, your own skirt riding up as you did so, exposing your white lace panties. Larissa was too busy to see the pretty sight, but she didn’t take long to notice them as her hands began wandering, touching you, really feeling you properly for the first time. The older woman didn’t think she could ever get enough of you, even as she was tasting you.
You began running out of breath, just as Larissa pulled away, her fingers dragging along the length of your wet, clothed pussy. “Can I, darling?” She panted, and you knew what she meant.
An enthusiastic nod shook you, chest heaving rapidly as you steadied yourself with your hands twisted into Larissa’s white shirt-clad shoulders. You couldn’t believe she wanted you as much as you had craved her.
Guttural moans flooded your ears as the tall blonde moved your panties to the side with one hand, her other gripping your waist in a possessive squeeze. Almost like she was worried you’d run away at any moment.
“Fuck, [y/n],” Larissa bit her swollen bottom lip as she allowed her fingers to glide through the slickness between your legs. “Is this all mine, darling? All for me?”
“Y-Yes, all of it, please,” you moaned in reply, nodding once again.
“So polite…” Larissa cockily smirked as you suddenly felt her fingers leave your heat. You watched as she raised her long, soaked fingers to her lips, and your hips bucked the second she wrapped her rosy lips around them.
“You’re teasing,” you whined and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle, slowly licking her fingers clean before pulling them away from her hot mouth and guiding them back down your body.
“And you taste divine…” the older woman spoke breathlessly. “I’ll make it up to you, darling. Patience.”
Her fingers were back inside of your soft panties within seconds; this time making swift work of collecting your wetness before relieving the ache that was beginning to build up. Your eyes fluttered closed in satisfaction as your mouth fell open into a small ‘o’; your shoulders slacked, the grip on Larissa’s shirt tightening in sync with her fingers quickening as she played with your body expertly.
You were lucky it was after 7pm, meaning school and after-school activities had ended hours ago. Otherwise, you would’ve been in deep trouble with the students and teachers — God knows how you’d ever explain the noises coming from the Principals office.
“So desperate,” Larissa tutted, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth as she watched you unravel, your orgasm quickly building, “So perfect.”
Whines, gasps and moans couldn’t help but escape from your throat as you began riding against Larissa’s fingers. The Principal had half the mind to pull away, to keep you on edge a little, to stop just so she can start all over again and experience this a little longer. She didn’t want this to ever end.
You were a heavenly sight for her; skirt flipped up, neck flushed with pink, hair disheveled, face contorted in pleasure. The sounds you were making had her bucking her own hips in need.
“Would you like to cum for me, darling?” Larissa panted, fingers circling your clit at double speed.
Keeping your eyes open was impossible. All you could offer in that moment was a long string of pleads and whines. Larissa wanted to make you ask for it properly, though she figured it’d be quite cruel of her to do so on your first time together, so she just hummed in response and pressed her coloured lips to your neck, trailing them down your chest in a sequence of kisses, licks and bites, “Cum for me, pretty darling.”
That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge, riding your orgasm out on Larissa’s hand as your body twitched and jerked in pleasure.
“Good girl, such a good girl,” Larissa mumbled sweet praises against your hot skin as she slowly eased up with her skilled fingers.
As your body shook with the last few jolts of pleasure, you opened your eyes to the delicious sight of Larissa looking completely flustered. Her dark eyes met yours and told you everything you needed to know. And somehow, you ended up even more turned on than you had been minutes ago.
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weema x you#principal weems x you#principal weems x reader#Wednesday fic#smut#mine
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Good Luck, Babe! | CH 1-1 | Ice Cream for Breakfast
{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist} This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell! Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!
It isn’t unusual to be up before everyone else in the house. To say that the people in your adoptive family were night owls is a total understatement. Most mornings, Wayne Manor was full of the haunting sort of quiet you would expect in any normal residence during dead of night. Only a handful of years ago, you couldn’t stand the eerie halls of the East wing before ten am. The tall windows leaking pale light onto the antique dark wood, the ornate, unblinking portraits that loomed over you with eyes that seemed to follow. Total daylight horror vibes. You still felt like that sometimes. Especially as you grew older, and nearly everyone else moved out.
Dick was out in California with his West coast lollipop brigade before he settled in Blüdhaven. Jason, you had barely gotten to know before he died, and upon his resurrection (and subsequent rehabilitation), he moved out and never looked back. Tim was…Tim. Overworked, overtired. He’d moved out before he was even legally an adult- but he basically a CEO at that point anyway. It only made sense that he carve out a little something for himself in the world, especially when Damian came along and assumed the Robin mantle. And then there was Damian- the only current permanent resident aside from yourself, Bruce and Alfred. You wouldn’t say that you were friends exactly, but you had certainly developed an understanding in the quiet moments you ended up spending together. So yeah, most of your older brothers were onto greener pastures. As much as it sucked to see such a large house so empty, you knew better than to whine about it. It had been a long time since your brief stint as Robin when you were about eight years old, but even then you could register that the vibe in the bat cave was…tense, to say the very least. You had felt it in the manor, too- the anger and sadness swirling around your family of vigilantes. And Bruce, your godfather, Batman- at the very center of it all. There was a saying in the city- that if you ever saw Batman, trouble wasn’t far behind. He was Gotham’s own Mothman, bringing omens of collapsing bridges, bizarre hostage situations and stuck up banks. Still, chasing Batman made for cool stories and dynamic photos, with only a minor threat of personal harm on a good day. Despite the good sense of the Batman Rule, Gotham city residents leaked into the streets for a peak of the curling cape and badass rocket car. If you saw the bat family, however, you were well and truly fucked. These days, your family only really got together on cataclysmic occasions, the stuff one step down from the bone chilling, universe ending Justice League shit. Well, that. And your birthday. It was why you seized every opportunity to take advantage of the situation, seated in the large dining hall with a plan in place. Pressing the tips of your fingers together in a super-villain worthy steeple, you rest your elbows on the ancient oak of the dining table. You were at the far end- the very head, in a chair that was usually reserved for Bruce. “You wouldn’t want to set a bad example by reneging on your promise to me, now would you?” A mischievous smirk curled on your lips as you released your hands from their position, to point to the paper birthday crown you’d fashioned for yourself in the early morning. “For my first decree,” you started, offering a dramatic wave. You gestured to the table, littered with spoons, bowls, and most notable- several pint sized containers of ice cream. Smaller silver dishes housed sprinkles, cherries, crushed candies and other fixings. “Ice cream for breakfast.” Part 2
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I miss how mornings in the Von Karma household used to be. Papa would make fresh pancakes or eggs benedict, and I’d look over his shoulder as he read the morning paper, scanning for any mention of his latest court victories. It always gave me a hint of pride when I caught Papa’s name in the paper, and I hoped that one day, I would be able to be just as talented and amazing as he was. Miles would sip his morning tea in his porcelain teacups, the scent of lemon or chamomile or ginger wafting through the kitchen, and I would slip Missile scraps of my breakfast from under the dining table.
The house was different back then. Livelier, busier, more alive. Now it feels like a relic, a museum, as I wander the halls alone, trying my best to evade Papa’s piercing eyes staring into me from his portraits.
I keep expecting to hear the sounds of the Steel Samurai theme playing from the living room TV, or wake up to the smell of Miles’ tea or Papa’s delicious pancakes. I keep, instinctively, wanting to look out the window, waiting for Papa’s car to show up in the garage so he can come home and tell me all about his day in court. He’d hold my hand, scoop me up in his firm, sturdy arms, and tell me he was sorry he was gone for so long, that this was all a horrible mistake, that none of what Miles told me that December morning was true and he was still the same man I thought he was…
But those are a fool’s daydreams.
Sitting in Papa’s old study, in his leather chair that’s far too big for me, I can’t help but feel like a child playing with her father’s hand-me-downs. In court, I feel powerful, grown-up, like the respected prosecutor and legend I am. I feel like myself. But here, in this house, for whatever reason, I still feel like a little girl. I’ve thought about redecorating before, making this space feel truly mine. But even if this study, this house, is in my name now, somehow changing anything about it feels like sacrilege.
I keep checking my phone for a notification or message from Miles. A missed call, anything. Just answer my calls. Just tell me where you are. Anything.
But no, my little brother has been MIA since that horrible December day, when he called me from across the sea to tell me the news. Franziska, your papa is dead. Your papa is a criminal.
Missile barks softly from his velvet dog bed. Absentmindedly, I run my fingers through his fur, remembering how Miles and I would chase him through the house once upon a time. He wags his tail in contentment, padding over to the cherry-wood cabinet where Papa kept his case files.
“You’re right, I’ve spent more than enough time rotting in this old house like a fool. I need to get back to the courtroom. I need to show the world that despite this setback, I am still an unstoppable force. I may have lost Papa, I may not know where Miles is, I may be alone. But I am still a Von Karma, and I can still crush my opponents into dust beneath my heel.”
I pick up my whip, feeling more confident the second I feel the comforting texture of the leather in my hand.
I am Franziska von Karma, and I refuse to be thwarted by my circumstances.
Papa would be proud.
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4t2 KHD Solstice Set
15 items: dining table, tablecloth, dining chair, crystal tree, hanging ornaments in 4 variations, candelabra, star candle, goblet, cutlery, tablesetting, cherry on a cutting board, minimalistic wood and pinecone decor
All files are compressed, collection file is included
All credits go to @kerriganhouse Original post HERE
DOWNLOAD from SFS or Mediafire
#thesims2#sims2#ts2#ts2cc#sims2cc#s2cc#4t2#4t2conversion#s2buymode#s2functional#s2decore#s2furniture#s2lighting#s2dining#s2xmas#s2downloads#s2fakeblood#advent calendar 2022
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Furniture items and sets round 1 results:
Items:
Froggy chair 90.6% / Leo sculpture 9.4%
Mush lamp 83.9% / Cancer table 16.1%
Mom's homemade cake 77.9% / Skull rug 22.1%
Afternoon-tea set 76.4% / My Melody clock 23.6%
Star clock 75.2% / Anatomical model 24.8%
Lily record player 74.7% / Scattered papers 25.3%
Dried-flower garland 72.6% / Rose bed 27.4%
Virgo harp 70.2% / Rescue mannequin 29.8%
Wooden music box 70.1% / Bathtub with yuzu 29.9%
Snail clock 69.1% / Imperial dining table 30.9%
Spooky cookies 67.8% / ACNH Nintendo Switch 32.2%
Plain party-lights arch 67% / Cinnamoroll sofa 33%
Moon 67% / Hyacinth lamp 33%
Greenhouse box 66.4% / Soft-serve lamp 33.6%
Dreamy rabbit toy 66% / Elephant slide 34%
Crescent-moon chair 65.2% / Retro stereo 34.8%
Toy duck 65% / Lovely phone 35%
Dreamy wall rack 61.7% / Throwback skull radio 38.3%
Lucky cat 59.2% / Decayed tree 40.8%
Tiny library 59.2% / Kerokerokeroppi bridge 40.8%
Fortune-telling set 59.2% / Cucumber horse 40.8%
Resetti model 58.5% / Titan arum 41.5%
Wheat field 55.1% / Zodiac dragon figurine
Paper tiger 54.5% / Colorful juice 45.5%
Cherry-blossom pond stone 54.4% / Rocket lamp 45.6%
Hamster cage 53.5% / Monster statue 46.5%
Starry garland 53.3% / Bonsai shelf 46.7%
Balloon-dog lamp 52.2% / Eggplant cow 47.8%
Creepy skeleton 52.2% / Elaborate kimono stand 47.8%
Mom's plushie 52% / Pergola 48%
Peach chair 51.1% / Dessert case 48.9%
Rattan towel basket 50.9% / Cherry-blossom branches 49.1%
1 ) I can't believe you guys voted out lovely phone, the entire reason I'm adding functions to these posts, in round 1
2 ) I can't believe you guys voted out cherry-blossom branches, the item that was positioned as second most likely to win based on number of submissions, in round 1
Sets:
Spooky 89.1% / Throwback 10.9%
Motherly 84.9% / Kiddie 15.1%
Shell 83.1% / Chess 16.9%
Sloppy (classic) 83.1% / Sloppy (ACNH) 16.9%
Rococo 81.6% / Elegant 18.4%
Insect 81.4% / Mario 18.6%
Glowing moss 78.2% / Ruined 21.8%
Mermaid 77.6% / Harvest 22.4%
Cute 76.3% / Lovely 23.7%
Modern 71.9% / Construction 28.1%
Ironwood 71.5% / Hello Kitty 28.5%
Fish 71.5% / Plaza 28.5%
Sweets 70.6% / My Melody 29.4%
Alpine 70.2% / Nordic 29.8%
Stars 69.6% / Gorgeous 30.4%
Cherry blossoms 68.5% / Blue 31.5%
Rattan 67.1% / Astro 32.9%
Flower 66.7% / Diner 33.3%
Fruit (ACNH) 66.7% / Fruit (classic) 33.3%
Antique 65.6% / Classic 34.4%
Modern wood 62.7% / Green 37.3%
Log 62.6% / Cabin 37.4%
Princess 62.6% / Card 37.4%
House plants 61.5% / Kerokerokeroppi 38.5%
Ranch (ACNH) 60.7% / Ranch (classic) 39.3%
Dreamy 58.3% / Wedding 41.7%
Mush (classic) 55.1% / Mush (ACNH) 44.9%
Patchwork (classic) 54.6% / Patchwork (ACNH) 45.4%
Kiki & Lala 53.9% / Moroccan 46.1%
Regal 51.2% / Cinnamoroll 48.8%
Robo 51% / Cardboard 49%
Gracie 50.6% / Imperial 49.4%
As you can see I've colour coded the sets by game. NL is pink, NH is blue, and sets that didn't really change between games are purple.
For the redesign matches, it was an even split between NH and NL. out of 10 redesign matches, they each won 5.
It's easier for me if all the new polls post in a row with no gaps between, so round 2 will start in a few days to give the hourly tournament a chance to catch up! This should be the only round where I have to do that.
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