#gotta love this space husband

[rexodusart]

Day 14/100 of my 30-minute sketch challenge - Garrus from Mass Effect!

Calibrations after calibrations, he will always have my heart - what about you? 🥰

[cookietrains]

FEAR NOT - They're not abducting human for a cotton candy fate! They say they know a great hot dog spot ^u^

... * The hot dog spot in question is just Spikey in his Hot Diggity Dog attire💀

It gets even worse BETTER when Spikey leans in like: "OH, And here comes dessert ❤️"

...* Rudy comes out in his Sundaze outfit💀⚰️

[invinciblerodent]

Y'know, puttering around with my recordings, I think I really am going to give Davrin's romance with Ver a pretty serious twisting around. Rewrite some things a bit, change things around, keep most of the "slow burn" of it intact- but also add in the "friends with benefits" elements that I feel match what he says in the check-in scene after the point of no return better.

I think I have a post from like, months before release, when all we knew about the character was "charming Warden (who may or may not have been the Storm Coast team's commander in '41)", about how I sort of expected his to be the romance that starts off more casual (with the expiration date all Wardens have, it's not surprising that someone who's been one for at least ten years would be hesitant to enter any genuine emotional entanglements, platonic or romantic), and then for him to find himself falling for Rook unexpectedly (and kind of against his will) anyway.

And from some of that late dialogue, I still think that that may have been the exact intention, initially, but maybe they didn't want to create too big a disparity between the different romance paths, or like they didn't want for it to come off like they weren't taking him as seriously as the rest, so the path sort of ended up getting a bit... I don't wanna say "subdued", but I can't think of a better word lol. Brought to match the pacing of the others and the overall story more, that's more like what I mean.

.... Anyway, I kinda think I wanna have them sleep together for the first time either after his personal quest (no more distractions, clearly established romantic interest in- and some commitment to one another, but with still an opportunity to angst about everything else) or preferably, that night after drinking with Lucanis.

I'm leaning towards the latter thought, specifically because it'd be clearly a very, very bad idea.

It'd be far too fast, far too early, I got that scene like right after the Cauldron, so deep in the thick of his personal quest- plus, the mutual interest was barely expressed like one day prior to it, and there was alcohol involved. Which all kind of makes it perfect, because it's an awful time to toss that complication in there.

But, it gives me an opportunity to have the both of them keep thinking that it being just a casual, physical thing is what the other wants (despite the "well, I could see us heading somewhere, someday" of it), and to have their feelings developing sort of in the background of it-- and then!!!!! that forest kiss can also take a role more like another complicating factor, with the "heart of a halla" line being a bit more ambiguous.

Like, casually kissing your booty call/situationship/FWB you've been secretly falling for, it's a bit more touchy-feely than the previously established [they were not established] guidelines [there are no guidelines] suggest is appropriate [none of this is appropriate], but it feels right, and that alone makes it feel weird and confusing, ykwim?

But, then the whole "Most of my life, I've gone it alone. With you... I never want to go back." thing makes more sense being where it is, after his personal quest, to me at least. Because that sounds like a confession, and with being free from worries and the griffons safe (with Eldrin, in that game), there's a great time to have a long-ish, actually serious conversation about what this is and where it's going.

.... That would also mean that some of the bed scene dialogue doesn't make as much sense ("Is this all just for show"? "Just like I imagined"? Girl you know exactly if it's for show and what his hands feel like, you've been getting dicked down semi-regularly for weeks), but I can work with some tweaks to that lol. The final parts of it, about planning the future and getting soppy still make perfect sense, it's just those lines in the leadup that need some minor tweaking.

Idk, I really liked the in-game experience I had, and I love me a good slow burn, but I can't deny that it's more my style when "slow burn" doesn't also mean ".... so sex is a thing that happens only at the very end, when all feelings are resolved". I like it adding more uncertainty and confusion into the mix, and giving a sort of "oh, this is different now" feel to that first time once the feelings are also resolved.

(The date though, I wanna keep where and how it is exactly, because he mentions he got the tip for the picnic from Evka and Antoine, and I find it really cute to imagine him just sort of looking at them after speaking with Valya like.... "... they probably have the right idea of it, don't they. While we're here, let... let me just go ask. How to, uh. Do this whole. Romance thing, I guess. Make it sound, idk, casual. And chill. We're... chill." Never mind that Evka and Antoine are literally one of the most romantic couples any of them know, but yknow, nbd.)

(And then it goes all the way sideways? Love it. Love the "hey so this tea I thought would be a fun, cute thing for us to try made her trip absolute balls for a while, so maybe this outing is not a great opportunity to like, talk. Seriously. About how I may or may not be falling a little bit in love with her. And by 'little bit', I mean 'up to the very tips of my ears'. Nbd, just gonna... postpone, spilling my guts out for her perusal, I guess." of it all. A+, no notes.)

[reverseopossum]

idk what it says about me as a human being that I've started getting recruitment ads for the space force more often than any of the normal military branches. Something probably.

[darkmothsy]

Good animal crossing weather. Too bad I got stuff to do

[baurem]

cw: children, bakugo being a tired dad and then some wc: 604

with the soft patter of small feet and the door’s hinges quietly crying as it was pushed open, you feigned sleep. through ajar lids, in peeked your mixture of love, your husband and your own affections personified into something you both cradled and loved undoubtedly.

biting back a grin, you listened for the shuffling of your bedsheets as your daughter forcefully settled in between the spooning position that bakugo held you in. 

“papa..” your three year old called out in a whisper, her palm lightly tapped his cheek.  still in his drowsy in between, bakugo hummed roughly to let her know he was listening. 

“move over..” she whined as she pushed his shoulder to create more space for herself

“no, i was here first.” bakugo’s tongue languid with sleep but unmoving to your daughter’s attempts.

her little lips pursed like yours and her brows furrowed like his as she conceived a way to convince her hard-headed father to move. she turned her body to you, preparing to wake you up until a large hand interrupted her. 

“no, don’ wake y’er mama up.” his voice mellowed by fatherhood and patience. katsuki’s daughter turned with a pout at his whispered chiding, the same one he often wore against you.

  still, even while unconscious and in his grasp, he sought to preserve your sleep though there wasn’t a need for it (not that he should know). 

he lured her back with his hand splayed out on her tummy which earned yet another whine from her as she sat back into the tight space between you and your husband. 

she stared back with a disgruntled expression he knew all too well; cheeks puffed up, eyes narrowed that were still swollen with sleep, and a deep frown all at the lack of space her father provided. 

katsuki stared back, now more awake than before, but still just as adamant and stubborn as the red-eyed girl before him. 

“gotta use your manners if ya wanna be here.” 

after a beat of contemplation, your daughter spoke up, “papa..?”

“hm?” katsuki hummed, attentive.

“can you— can you pleeaase move over?” she asked, softer as to not disturb her mother. 

katsuki deemed it good enough since it was too early in the morning for a lesson. abiding by her plea, he shifted over which opened up the space for his little one. 

“mm.. thank you.” his daughter murmured as she squirmed into her place under the sheets and between her parents. 

katsuki hummed in a quiet response. his attention on the way her eyes fought sleep, nestled in the warmth and scent of her parents. once he’s sure she’s asleep, his attention shifts over to you.

“were you going to help at all?” he huffs. 

“i knew you had it.” you toss over to gaze to your family with a sapped grin at his discovery of your consciousness; your husband furrowed his brows at you like your little girl would when she didn’t get what she wanted and your daughter’s face squished on the pillow like his would whenever he came home from a long patrol.

katsuki saw you too in that moment, you think; with her hair disheveled in the mornings just like yours would be and the light snoring from her— the snoring you both vehemently denied though he insisted on it. 

he must’ve also been feeling that same swell in your chest too, the overflowing of love seeping out of your chest and into your throat. the kind of feeling that only mornings like these could bring out of you both; you, your husband, and the whole of you both combined snuggled in bed together.

“you always do.” 

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader

cw: non-graphic mentions of violence, suggestive bit at the end lmk if u want an nsfw of this!!

ok but imagine shy lil missus o'hara who's a stay at home wife while miguel goes off to either alchemax or to fight some bad guys

and miguel comes home stressed all the time but just a touch of her hand on his shoulder grounds him after all that fighting

and miguel is tired but happy, grateful for his little love taking such good care of him :)) giving you a forehead kiss before he goes off to the bathroom, settling in the perfectly warm bath prepared for him before indulging in his little wife's amazing cooking 

but one night when he comes home a little bit more tense than usual

she's very tense

she's heard him yelling at his subordinates over the phone and yelling at dumb-ass cops who get in the way of him stopping some thief

and while miguel has always been soft and kind and gentle with her, she's scared that she'll accidentally do something wrong :((

so miguel walks past her, exhausted, and almost smiles at the smell of dinner

no forehead kiss for her :(( poor baby

sitting at the dining table head in his hands as he mumbles about not getting the chance to grab a snack, let alone a break in spanish

and she knows he's hungry, but she knows his whole body will be aching if he doesn't take a bath to regulate his body temperature

but poor baby doesn't know how to say it without him possibly snapping at her :((

she's standing on the other side of the table nervously fidgeting with the dish towel and finding the right words to say

"y-you... you gotta t-take a bath f-first..."

miguel sighs into his hands. "i know, but im really hungry, cariño..."

"b-but... if you don't... you'll be s-sore..."

he looks up, brows furrowing. "what?"

he was genuinely confused why you seemed so scared of him, but his voice came out a bit more bluntly than he meant it to.

your eyes widen and you look down. "n-nothing," you mumble, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "sorry."

"hey, hey, baby..." miguel stands up, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms. "what's wrong? did i say something?"

"no..." you sniffle, "jus thought i made you mad..."

"no, no, no, i'm not mad," he kisses all over u: your teary eyes, your wobbling lips, your forehead, the tip of ur nose

miguel kisses you deeply and then hugs you close to him. "im not mad, i promise. i'm just so so tired and hungry and the food smelled so good i'm gonna die if i don't get to taste it," he whispers, laughing when you giggle at his declaration.

"the bath can wait," he caresses your cheek with his hand.

"b-but you're gonna get cramps tomorrow if-"

he cuts you off with a big smooch to your face. "it doesn't matter. im staying home tomorrow."

"wh-what?!" you look up at him as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. "but you have work- and- and you're spiderman- and-"

he shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair.

"i'm your husband first, and all that other shit second."

miguel sighs, pulling you closer.

"i know i haven't been taking care of you the way i should be."

before you can interject about how he's doing so much already, he presses a finger against your lips.

"ssh. and alchemax and the cops don't really give a shit about me, can probably last every other day without me there. they'd probably have a field day without this jackass there," he chuckles. "but you, baby, i need to return the favor- ah, ah! let me finish, gatita- return the favor for keeping this place a safe space for me."

a kiss here, a kiss there. "entiendes?"

you nod, hugging him. "just glad you're home," you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.

he spends the rest of that hour enjoying the food you made for him while also feeding you and rattling all about the thugs he stopped that day.

then he pulls you into the bath with him, despite your protests, and laughs as he splashes you with the soapy water, making you squeal and threaten to spray him with the shower nozzle

then the two of you dry up and snuggle in bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. miguel smiles down at you and you smile up at him, before he rolls you on your back and crawls over you to make the sweetest yet roughest love to show you just how thankful he is for having a sweet lil thing like u to come home to <3

(part 2 is here~)

[heechwe]

night changes | 𝐥𝐡𝐬

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3k ୨୧ genre: smut, fluff, hint of comedy ୨୧ tags: roomates to lovers au, pet names (love, baby, etc.), dirty talk, size kink, face sitting, 69, unprotected sex, creampie. ୨୧ synopsis: Maybe a citywide power outage is what you need to finally confess your feelings. Well, that and a risque card game. ➸ Birthday fic for the beautiful boy!! Also, the card game is fictional and takes inspiration from other card games like Hot Seat!

“How many candles do we have left?” You ask in the form of a groan, trying to find a bar of reception in your apartment. With the power suddenly lost from the blistering rainstorm outside, it’s a wonder when it will calm down and you’ll have access to the outside world again.

“Relax. I bought more a couple days ago when I was tracking the path of the storm. No big deal.” Heeseung begins lighting them and placing them around your shared apartment. By the time he’s finished, the candlelight gives enough coverage of the living spaces for you both to walk around without issue.

Heesung has always been good at that. He can prepare for the worst and keep a cool head in the midst of chaos, including when your fiery temper rears its head. But your fire comes in handy sometimes. When he doesn’t want to deal with talking to your landlord or fixing errors with the management company, you take the reins. The balance you both established is why you work so well as friends and roommates. 

“I wonder how long we’ll be out of power,” you mumble, drumming your fingers across the arm of the couch and trying not to have a meltdown. The cool air from the open windows provides some relief, even if you’re running hot from your spiked nerves.

“Well, whether it’s a few hours or a dozen, we just gotta make the best of it.” Heeseung smiles. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he claps his hands together. “How about board games?”

You giggle. “When was the last time you played a board game, Hee?”

“It’s been a minute,” he confesses, a shy smile on his lips. “But, hey! Never a better time than now.”

The two of you open the spare living room closet to grab a handful of board games you’ve collected since living in the apartment together. You rifle through them, Candyland immediately catching your eye. But Heeseung has other ideas.

“Oh! Let’s do Hot Topics!” Heeseung holds up the box with a smirk, immediately opening it to rifle through its contents.

“But there’s only two of us!”

“So? We’ll make it work!” He sits down on the living room rug and pats the spot next to him.

You oblige his request. How couldn’t you when he smiles at you in that way? With his cute cheeks and Adam's apple bobbing in laughter—no. You’re not going to trudge up these old feelings again, especially during such an unfortunate situation.

You’re friends and roommates, end of. 

Heeseung shuffles the cards and pulls out the first one on the top of the deck. “Alright, first one. All Play: Would I marry someone twice my age if it meant I never had to work again?” He considers the question, but you immediately let out a noise similar to one you would make when vomiting.

“No fucking way! I don’t want my husband one foot out the door!”

“Well, if I didn’t have to work at the ramen shop anymore—” Heeseung wiggles his eyebrows and you shove him in the shoulder. He expels a hearty laugh. “I’m kidding! I agree with you.”

The game continues on, prompts and questions so ridiculous they make any lingering anxiety about the storm ebb away, too lost in the game and your friend to notice the ever-present storm outside your door.

You take a new card from the deck, flipping it upside to reveal the prompt. “Dare: Stare at the player next to you for thirty seconds. The first one to break eye contact has to skip their turn.” You throw the card in the discarded pile without a care. “That’s so easy.”

“Bring it on.” You move positions to face Heeseung, his eyes immediately lighting up with the challenge presented to you both.

“Three, two, one,” you count down. “Go!”

Heeseung tries to make you break immediately with a goofy face, but you stand resolute, eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a thin line. But then, he stares you down with his bright eyes and soft smile, making your entire body go cold. This could not be happening. You aren’t feeling your stupid, childlike crush come back at you in full force. Not tonight. Not like this.

You had been so stern in keeping it stamped down the past two years you’ve been roommates. It hadn’t been easy, but with enough practice and denial, it seemed pretty easy to keep it at bay. But now, the only two people in the darkness of this room, you wonder how much longer your resolve can hold.

You fake a heavy cough and turn away. Heeseung screeches in victory with his arms raised up high. “Weak! You’re so weak.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to face the deck. “Whatever, dumbass. Pick the next card.”

He reads his new card aloud. “Truth: How long was your longest crush?” He releases an anxious laugh, and then throws the card into the pile amongst the other used ones. “Longest one’s still going.”

You turn your head to face him, but he’s only staring at the deck. He grabs the next card and ignores how his confession has created a new, heavy fog of tension. If Heeseung has a crush, one that’s apparently been in the works for awhile, neither Jake nor anyone else gave you the head’s up about it.

Heeseung reads the next challenge aloud. “Dare: Excite one player just by kissing them for 10 seconds. You’re not limited to the player’s lips.” His eyes go wide as he holds the card tightly between his fingers. “If you don’t want me to, I—“”

You laugh it off, taking the card from him and setting it on the floor. “It’s fine. It’s just a game, right?”

“Right.” Heeseung inches closer, your faces barely a few inches apart. You were prepared for him to kiss you on the mouth and that would be the end of it, but you tremble in pleasure when you realize his lips are suddenly attached to your neck.

A moan escapes your lips when he begins to suck on the space of your neck near your collarbone. He doesn’t use his hands at all. All it takes is his mouth, its soft pressure creating a swirling eruption within your stomach, begging to be released. He licks at your bruising skin, pressing his mouth there once more before stepping back.

When he’s back in his normal position, the timer goes off. “So, uh,” he says, cutting through the sudden awkward silence, “are you excited?”

You blush and bite down on your bottom lip hard, no words coming out in response. You turn your attention back to the deck. “F-Finally, my turn again!”

You turn another card for the next prompt, reading it in your head and wanting to jump out the window before Heeseung can see it. “Dare: Kiss the player you would most likely go on a date with on the cheek.”

You tell yourself to just get it over with, in spite of your jumbling nerves. Excuse it after as a technicality, him being the only living person in existence in the apartment to kiss for the challenge. End it there and hope the past few dares do not destroy the sanctity of your friendship.

You crawl on your hands to get close to Heeseung’s cheek, but before you can land the kiss, he turns his head and catches your mouth with his. You’re unprepared for the act, but your lips quickly become accustomed once you spend a second or two in his embrace. His lips are gentle, teasing, eager for you, and it makes your knees feel like cotton. 

He pulls you up from your position to rest in his lap, still pressing his mouth to yours. Suddenly, his tongue is licking at the roof of your mouth, and your body feels like a live wire. How did he have the power to jumpstart your nerves and set them on fire all at once?

You separate from him, confusion clouding your sudden desire. “Why’d you do that?”

“I wanted to.” Heeseung moves stray hairs from your face, the baby hairs clinging to your skin from the sweat. “Did you not want me to?”

“No, I did!” You giggle nervously. “I just didn’t know how you’d react if I said so.”

“Why did you never say anything before?” Heeseung looks genuinely confused and concerned. He wonders how much more obvious he had to have been. Before this moment, had he missed chances to give you the signs? Clearly so, with your stammered words and nervous limbs. He had to get better at his communication.

“Do you know how awkward it would’ve been if you hadn’t felt the same?” You ask him the rhetorical question, your eyebrow quirked up. “Just tiptoeing around the both of us knowing I have this exhaustive crush on you?”

Heeseung chuckles into your neck. If you described your crush in that way, his had to have been all-consuming, even if you were oblivious to it. “Exhaustive?”

“I mean,” you whisper, “do you know how hard it is to look at you and not want to jump you all the time?”

You feel his bulge tighten against his sweatpants, the sensation against your body making you gasp. Heeseung smirks in response. “Well, clearly it’s a mutual thing.”

The two of you resume kissing, both lost in the relief of your feelings mirroring each others’. In spite of the current storm still whipping the trees against your apartment building, you were so at ease wrapped around Heeseung like a vine.

If anything, Mother Nature is mimicking all the sensations bubbling up inside of you, close to reaching their boiling point with the way Heeseung expertly touches and squeezes your skin while his mouth covers your face in kisses.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He asks as he lays you down on the living room rug, hands in your hair and lips magnetized to the spot on your neck where he had kissed you previously. “How long I’ve thought about being in your bed? Touching you, tasting you, feeling you.”

“Heeseung, please.” You inch his shirt up and over his head, admiring the divots and ridges of his newly-revealed muscles.

It isn't the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, but it’s only the beginning of the night, and you’re certain you’ll see parts of him you haven’t seen yet. The thought alone makes your body tingle in all the right places. “Stop talking and touch me more.”

“So impatient.” Heeseing releases a devilish laugh into the column of your throat. “I want to savor this. Savor you.”

“We have all the time in the world until the power goes out. I want you,” you whine, bucking your hips up into nothing but his clothed legs and hips, his bulge barely brushing your clothed heat. 

Heeseing hisses and makes you both sit up, his expression blown from lust. “Sit on my face.”

You laugh, hesitant yet excited. “What?”

He places a kiss on your lips with every pause between his words. “I. Said. Sit. On. My. Face.”

You listen to his tone, playfully demanding but completely serious. This is a new side of Heeseung you had never seen. The same humorous guy you felt butterflies for since the day you met, but with an edge of vulgarity that leaves you in impure anticipation. 

You tug off both your cotton shorts and underwear. You may still be wearing your tank top, but you imagine that will come off soon too.

You settle your body down on Heeseung’s awaiting tongue. Your body trembles when he takes an eager lick along your folds, his mouth immediately enveloped in your heat. “Jesus, are you always this wet?” He asks, voice muffled but still clear enough for you to hear.

“Only when I think of you,” you confess. Many nights alone proved the only way to get off was with the image of Heeseung’s face and body between your legs in your brain. Even if he was seven feet away on another overnight session of League of Legends, you had to get your fix.

“Fuck.” He pulls you down further onto his mouth, practically suffocating him as he laps at your cunt mercilessly. Your mouth hangs open in ecstasy, all the fantasies you held incomparable to this.

Heeseung’s hips match yours in their rhythm against his face, and you feel guilty the poor man is receiving no pleasure while you have all of it. You reach over to the top of his sweatpants and pull them down, his cock springing free from the material. The tip leaks a hefty amount of precum, and you smear it down his girthy length with one hand.

Heeseung moans against your center, but he pulls himself back. “You don’t have to–”

“You’re taking care of me,” you pant, “let me take care of you.”

You wrap your lips around his tip, experimenting with the pressure and size of him on your tongue. When he groans and growls in between your legs, lapping at your essence with even more fervor, you take his entire length in your mouth.

“God, you’re too good at this,” Heeseung moans, rolling his hips into your awaiting mouth and cursing when he feels the back of your throat. “I could have your mouth on me all fucking day.”

You continue like that for a while, tasting each other and teasing the waters until both of you are a mess. It’s a mesmerizing dance you’re in with him, chasing your highs together. But you’re unsure who will ask to take the next step. Removing your mouth from his with a resounding pop, you plead, “Please Hee, I want you inside of me.”

“Anything for you.” He gently gets up from between your legs and positions himself against the couch. He signals for you to sit on his lap, a playful grin on his lips. You do so without a second thought, anticipating his body molding to yours perfectly. How did the night start with you both planning another ramen-filled movie night and end up here?

You sink down onto him, the sudden fullness making your eyelids shut from the sensation. “Damn, you’re so tight,” he growls, slowly rocking you onto him with his hands on your hips. “Feels fucking incredible.”

“Y-You’re so big, Hee. It’s amazing.” You find your own pace, languidly riding him as the wind still rages on outside. Besides the weather, the sounds of your skin against his crowd the space of your apartment.

Heeseung removes your tank top quickly, clutching one of your breasts to knead the skin. “You like it, don’t you?” Heeseung whispers. “Being filled up by me, stretched out and fucked hard?” He takes the other breast into his mouth, latching his lips onto your nipple and swirling his tongue wickedly.

“Yes, fuck yes. Only by you, Hee.”

He bucks his hips up into you, your body slamming down on him in fast increments to compensate for his new rhythm. “Yeah, baby, tell the entire floor who’s making you feel this good.”

“Heeseung, fuck,” you scream out his name. It doesn’t matter if the rain and wind can’t conceal your sounds. All you care about is this moment, right here with him in your living room, all your desires coming to fruition. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

After more kisses and curses of pleasure leaving both of your lips, you feel the end deep in your stomach, the release tightening and ready to snap. “I’m gonna come,” you say.

“Ride me harder, baby,” he responds, moving his hand in between your bodies to rub your clit in a frenzy. “Use me. Come all over me.”

You do, feeling your body use what’s left of its energy to reach your peak quickly. You cry out a final time as your orgasm floods your senses, your body alive yet limp from the endorphins circulating through your system.

“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung spills inside of you mere seconds after, your sounds coupled with the feeling of your pulsing walls around him enough for his body to climax as well. He milks it all, hips rocking up into you to exhaust himself in an effort to feel his entire release.

You both slow down, but you relish in the feeling of the sudden warmth of Heeseung’s orgasm inside of you. It trickles down between your legs and onto Heeseung himself as he begins to pull out of you, and the sight may just make him rock-hard again. But he’ll save the image for another night.

Heeseung gives you a final, tender kiss before he stands up from his spot on the floor. He runs to the bathroom for a washcloth, wetting it to clean the both of you up. When he’s done, he takes great care in snuffing out the candles around the house.

You tease him for it, but he reminds you about the serious fire hazard of leaving them burning overnight, to which you agree. “Always one step ahead, babe,” Heeseung jokes.

He brings a blanket with him to cover the both of you up, your body immediately warmed by his. Your head rests on his bicep, his muscle the perfect pillow. 

In that moment, you’re content with not just the power being out, the only sounds being the storm and the air leaving your lungs. You’re content to be here in the dark with Heeseung, the feelings you repressed for so long not only released but reciprocated.

Heeseung kisses your forehead and hums you to sleep, his voice the last sound you hold onto before you’re whisked away to dreamland.

You wake up nestled in Heeseung’s arms on the living room floor, the blanket he grabbed barely covering both of your bodies. You hear the sound of your Roomba trying to connect to the bluetooth and feel the blue morning sky on your skin, telltale signs the power’s back on and the storm has gone on its way.

You smile to yourself, snuggling further into Heeseung’s neck and kissing the skin there. Who knew a power outage could bring two people together like this?

He rustles awake a moment later, his eyelashes fluttering open so beautifully. A smile stretches across his face when he sees what you’re doing. In the light of day, his face is even more breathtaking, and you’re grateful its expressions are reserved solely for you now. “Good morning.”

You blush. “Very good morning.”As you kiss him, invigorating his energy and leftover desire from the night prior, you think you’ll have to send the manufacturers of Hot Topics a thank-you card.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[princessbrunette]

so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.

[frownyalfred]

*After superbat is married*

Hal: haha! Remember when I fucked your husband before he was ... your ... husband

Clark:*red eyes glowing*

Hal: right never mind, deep space mission gotta go

Hal: "We're all gonna look back on this some day and chuckle, right? Because we both totally t..."

Clark:

Hal: "Cool cool cool, good talk, good talk. Love this new vibe for you, it's really something. I think Oa's calling, gotta go!"

[ohcaptains]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

john price x fem reader.

18+ !!! possessive husband! john, penetrative sex, cum play, light choking, use of the word 'sir', king of dirty talk captain john price.

just something i had to get off my chest! reblogs and thoughts are appreciated!

You’re spread, face down, and ass up on the duvet.

John’s hands are warm on your hips, his calloused fingers are digging into your heated flesh, and grabbing fist fulls, as if he wants to take you apart. You squirm against the pressure. You’ve always liked it when John grabbed you like this.

Like it a lot more when you’re spread wide open for him, though.

He hums a smile from behind you.   “Gotta say it louder, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you.” You swallow down your drool. It’s pooling onto the sheets below your mouth, and you know that when this is all said and done, John will pull you against him and joke about the wet patches. Whisper heavily into your ear – look at the mess you’ve made, love, and you’ll blink at the sight, still sensitive from the daze he’d put you in. Melt against his chest. Say, it’s all your fault, and John would chuckle, kiss you sweetly, I’m such a bad guy, aren’t I?

Now, though, in the heat of the night, you couldn’t care less. You sink into your thighs, and the movement forces your pussy wider for him. John sighs at the sight. Grunting, as if he’s letting himself into temptation, he slides his thumb over your spread cheeks, and roughly drags it over your asshole.

You gasp, and buck forward, body throbbing. “Ah, John.” He lightly smacks your hip, “what did I say?” “You,” you loudly repeat, suddenly remembering what he asked earlier.

Who do you belong to? He’d grunted. You’d been far too dazed to respond clearly – coming twice from John’s thick fingers and tongue would do that.  

Your husband hums again, grabbing your ass cheek and spreading you wider. “Look at you,” he whispers to himself, gazing at the wet slick of your cunt.

You’re soaking. Slowly floating into the abyss. Drifting off into a world of non-verbal communication, dazed smiles, and incomprehensible words.

You’re familiar with it.

Familiar with John fucking you stupid. Familiar with John’s soothing hand on the back of your neck as he coaxes you out of your small space.

Your husband presses the head of his cock against your cunt, then gently slides it through your slick, rubbing against your clit and aching hole. You mouth at the duvet, eyes rolling back until all you see is the soothing black.

“This wet cunt. All for me?” Your belly tightens. Pussy clenches around the memory of his dick. “John,” you whine, begging for more, begging for him to stop. You’re not sure at this point.

There’s not a lot of clarity to moments like this, it’s only after, when John’s got you in his arms, that you realise how far gone you were. Reflect on the words you’d said – the dirty spiel you’d whimpered to get what you wanted.

Still, though, as John feeds his cock into your swollen pussy, and grunts, “I’ll come inside this pretty cunt, fill you with my babies, huh?” you still have enough clarity left to shake your head and whimper, “N-No.”

John laughs darkly. He sinks his cock as far as it’ll go, and you cream around him, slipping quickly. “You sure?” he grunts, voice strained. His hands are gripping your cheeks, spreading them wide so he can see just as far you can take him.

“You don’t want me to get you pregnant? Show everyone that I fuck you good and proper?”

His words make you dizzy. Mindlessly, you clench around his cock, coating him, and John laughs with a groan.

He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself.

Knows you’re chewing on the duvet right now, stuffing it into your mouth to quiet your sobs. Knows that there’s a knot in your belly right now, and it’s tight enough that you’re throbbing all over.

He slides his slick cock out, and when he slowly stuffs you with it again, there’s a wet ring pushing to his base. He clenches his jaw, shakes his head in disbelief, then takes his cock from you again.

Your breath hitches, waiting for him to sink back in, but then he presses in quick and tight, bottoming deep, forcing you to cry out suddenly.

“John, John, John – fuck. Fuck!” He ignores you. Continues his previous dirty drawl.  

“Would look so good with my come leaking out of you, sweetheart,” he compliments. You beam. Jesus, you go blind with it. You would, fuck. You would look so good strung out, tangled in sheets with his come dribbling out of your swollen pussy.

You close your eyes to the thought of it.

Go to the sweet dark as John slides out, then buries in again. When he’s deep, and you think you’ve settled into the thick heat of it all, he hoists you against him – his chest to your back -- and presses his mouth to your ear, talking quickly, so you don’t have time to complain.

His voice is heavy. Haunting. Makes you cling to the hand he’s got tight around your belly.

“Pump you full of it, huh baby? then pull your underwear up.”

He begins to languidly fuck you. Rocks his hips up in deliberate strokes, setting a gentle, intoxicating rhythm that has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back. John breathes heavily in your ear, and you know it’s getting to him too.

“Make you sit in it all day. Go to work with your knickers smeared in my come. Your colleagues wouldn’t know that your pussy is all wet with me, but I would. I’d know.”

You sob his name. Lock your gummy walls to his thick cock, trying to milk him, and John near growls into your ear. “Fuck!” he snaps, and the sound echoes through you, and goes straight to your clit.

“You like that huh?” He drags his calloused hand between your trembling thighs and sloppily pushes his fingers over your clit. You double over in pleasure, but John keeps you pressed against him with the arm he’s got wrenched around you.

“Tightening around me. Shit. All this cause I threatened to punch a guy in the pub?”

You’re brought back to the memory: some guy grabbing your arm to try and dance with him, and John shoving him back, near pushing him into the slot machine.

He’d been shaking with rage. Went to get the guy's throat in his hands before you got involved.

“Like to pretend that it annoys you, but I know you love it when I’m possessive. When I keep you locked to my hip. We both know that it makes your cunt get all sticky when I fight someone for you.”  

He’s right and you know it. When John had shoved the guy, you’d gone hot all over. But you’d pulled your husband to the smoking area and told him to cool it.

He went to pay the tab, and you went to the toilet. Spent most of it with your forehead against the door, trying to steady your thumping heart.

John’s still rubbing your clit, trying to catch it in his wet fingers. It’s all sloppy. It’s John breathing shakily against your ear, his deep, hungry tempo forcing a pool of desire to settle at your lower back.

He continues his pace – fucks you the way he knows you like it, steady, but hard -- and all at once, that ache that had simmered threatens to burst, and you spasm around his cock, gasping with the desire to come.

You let out an unrestrained moan, whimpering mindlessly.

Through the blood rushing through your ears, you hear yourself plea with him – fuck me, please. John. John. Please. You take his hand from your belly and drag it to your throat, grinding down on his dick.

John curses. Pushes you to the duvet, takes your hips in one hand, and rubs your clit with the other.

The sensation of both his fingers and cock makes you mute against the sheets.

Your body is numb. It’s all electric heat, wrapped around you like a cloak. You try to talk, tell him to fuck you, but all that comes out is drool and his name. Please. Please. Um gonna come. Um gonna come so hard baby—he smacks your ass, and the sudden pressure goes straight to your cunt, sending you spinning, and you’re squeezing around him, tight as a vice, coming on his cock.

John all but growls as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Gooood girl!” he shouts, watching you struggle and spasm around his cock, fidgeting and whining as white heat seers through your pussy. “Come inside me,” you gasp, drunk, so fucked out that you’d let him do anything he wants, and John groans, your cunt tight and so so warm and wet. “Come,” you drawl, your orgasm tailing off, and you clutch the duvet, whining in your post-come state. John’s still fucking you and the feel of his hard cock sliding through your swollen and slick folds has you babbling.

“Come inside me I want you inside of me.” John huffs a laugh. “No, baby, that’s not what you want.” You shake your head, delirious. “It is, I promise.” “No, it’s not. I’ve just fucked all rational thought out of your head. Brain’s gone dumb on my cock, huh baby?”

He smooths his hand over your back, struggling to contain his strained grunts through his spiel. You can’t decide which you like more: when John’s so turned on that all he can do is bark filth at you, or when he’s so turned on that he can’t, just moan and grunt and fuck you silly.

“Good thing your husband thinks for you, though. Turn around.”

In your bleary state, you manage to fumble around onto your back, and John grabs hold of your leg and pulls you down the duvet, forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

You blink up at his looming body – at his heaving, hairy chest, and clenched neck. His face is red with sweat, and the heady, heavy gaze of his eyes has your belly swirling. Blinking down at his hand, you dreamily watch him tug at his wet, angrily hard cock, before muscle memory kicks in.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and John groans deep in his throat, the sound twisting into a moan as he speeds up his tugging, and it's seconds before he’s pumping his come into your mouth.

Most of it lands on your tongue, or around your lips. But a smear of it shoots across your cheek. You don’t dare wipe it away; instead, once John’s finished, and he’s staring down at you with this wild, feverish look, you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing it down.

You’ve collected a lot of spit from having your mouth open for so long, and your mouth is too full to swallow it all in one go, so a trail of it slides down the corner of your mouth and throat.

John watches it drip.

Inhaling steadily, he reaches his thick hand out, and wipes the smear of it, along with the come on your cheek, away with his thumb.

“What was it you said?” he whispers. His eyes are black as he pushes his finger inside of your mouth. You close your eyes and mewl around his thumb, lazily sucking at it as if he’d pushed his cock between your lips.

Having something of his in your mouth makes your post-come delirium even worse.

The position makes you hazy, too – spread thighs and sensitive pussy brushing against the rug – and you’re just about to ask if you can blow him before he pulls his fingers away and clasps your jaw and throat in his huge hand.

Your eyes immediately roll back. Cunt clenches, desperate for him inside of you again, and when you blink up at him, your husband's face is a picture of love and possession.

“Mine,” he states, in his heavy, smoke-laden voice.

You lick your lips and taste the remnants of his come on your tongue. “Yes sir,” you whisper.

masterlist.

please reblog or comment i'll kiss u.

[lemon-berri]

"You're s'pretty.. will you marry me?"

"Toru.. we've been married for two years..."

Your husband, Gojo Satoru, is a lightweight.

You know it. He knows it. Everyone knows it. Yet for whatever reason he had decided to drink when you'd gone out tonight.

Three shots. It had taken three shots to get here. He's on one knee in the middle of the bar, holding up a shot glass instead of a ring as he attempts to propose to you.

At the mention that you're already married, his big blue eyes light up. He grins. The innocence in his expression is completely at odds with the amount of trouble he's causing you right now.

"Reeeaally?" He chuckles out. "Wow.. m' so lucky!

Without warning, he stands up, suddenly towering over you. He picks you up, twirling you around and almost hitting several bar patrons in the process. You yelp, but his grip on you only tightens.

"Have we had a honeymoon..?" He asks.

"Satoru, put me down-" you start to say, despite the smile on your face.

"Let's go have one right now!"

"Wha-"

You're entirely helpless as the man carries you off, your friends and colleagues all but forgotten. And you most definitely do not know where he's taking you on this supposed honeymoon.

Given the fact that he attempted to propose to you with a shot glass, you're sure this can't be good.

This adventure is short lived however, when he sets you down on the dance floor. Twirling you around. His eyes roam over your figure appreciatevly, pausing on your smile. The expression on his face matches your own.

"Is this our honeymoon?" You ask him.

"Eeeeh? What honeymoon?" He answers, a little too loudly.

Really, Satoru is drunk enough that you should be taking him home. But he's making that almost impossible for you, as his strong arms wrap around you on the dance floor. There isn't much space for you to escape, not with the amount of people here.

So you let him have his fun, indulge him for now. You dance and laugh and let him kiss you in front of everyone. His breath tastes like alcohol and whatever fruity liqueur he's been having, and he smiles against your lips. You're a little tipsy yourself so you don't notice as the hours drift away.

It's much later when you finally drag your mountain of a man home. He's leaning his large body onto yours, swaying back and fourth with every step.

"Come on you" You say "let's get you ready for bed"

"Bed.." He hums. That seems to be the only word he registered, because he lifts you up once again and carries you off to your shared bedroom.

"Toru!" You yelp. "We gotta change- and I have to wash my face-"

It all goes unheard. He pulls you into bed, long limbs wrapping around you, making it impossible to move. He nuzzles against your shoulder, till all you can see is his mess of white hair.

"We'll get the bed dirty.." you complain, even as your hand comes to brush over his undercut. The sensation sends shivers down your husband's spine.

"Love you..  s' very much.. you know that? You're.. my world" He mutters out. His voice is soft, tired, and almost childlike in innocence.

You take a moment to respond, it seems like he's not intent on moving anytime soon. "I know.. I love you too"

"I'm so lucky..." His voice draws out on the last word. And you feel him relaxing with tiredness.

Satoru will most definitely have a headache in the morning. If not because of the alcohol then because he lost his blindfold somewhere at the bar. But you try not to think about that.

Instead, you focus on his soft breaths, and the comfortable weight of having him wrapped around you like this. You wonder how he could be so adorable, even when he's causing this much trouble.

But the trouble is all worth it. It always will be for him.

Credits for the dividers go to @aquazero

The blue manga panels were edited by myself 🫧

Once again thank you so much for reading! This took ages to write because I have 0 motivation at any given time.

I hope you enjoyed 🌟

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

[pepperyduck]

“in the car” with shiu kong

this is part two of my kinktober event!

word count: 1.1k

warnings: nsfw, car sex, unprotected, public sex, getting caught/interrupted. (18+ mdni!)

notes: gnawing at my enclosure…save me shiu please

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

“i’m ready to get outta here, doll.” shiu grumbles into your ear.

you slap his chest with the back of your hand, a motion you always did whenever your husband would pipe up with nonsense. shiu frowned and pulled out his phone, seemingly scrolling on something as you listened to the person presenting. your phone vibrates, letting you know you received a message.

shiu <3: that skirt looks so good on you, going to rip it off in the car.

you roll your eyes at his message. shiu smirks at your reaction, giggling on the inside as your fingers type to respond.

my wife: shut the fuck up. and pay attention. u could get this job if you PAID ATTENTION.

shiu <3: sorry not sorry, you look too good to be in here with all these fuckers. lets go out to the car, i’ll be quick.

you roll your eyes again at his eagerness and turn your phone off. but after a few minutes of talking from some old guy, you contemplated what the little devil on your shoulder was offering until you gave in.

my wife: fine. you go first.

within a quick few minutes, shiu was leading you out the building and into the back of his car, his hand not leaving your ass the entire time. you easily found yourself straddling your mischievous husband, in a heated make-out session. going at it in the back of his car wasn’t new, of course, he had his windows tinted just for times like this – but doing such a thing at his job felt even dirtier. that only made you hornier, though.

“fuck, baby—,” shiu groans against your lips when you grind down into him. you could already feel the straining bulge in his slacks, the real expensive ones you bought him for your anniversary. warm fingers trail under the pretty blouse you wore, coming up to give your left tit a squeeze – god, shiu loved how your chest looked in that blouse.

shiu was insatiable, truly.

even more so when you eagerly try to unbuckle his belt, failing terribly because of your lack of vision. he nearly moans at the sight of his pretty wife trying to hard to shed him of his clothes. shiu was amazing at his poker face until it came to you. he crumbled like an avalanche at your very touch, every rub up against his arm or backhand to his chest. and especially now, when you were trying your hardest to have your way with him.

“y’er strugglin’, dolly,” shiu states, watching you through almost-closed eyelids.

“then help me,” you whine in return, dramatically pulling your hands away from the belt buckle.

his hands are jellified as he unbuckles his belt, the clattering metal taking up the space of silence in the car. shiu intently bites his bottom lip when you stand on your knees and tug down his slacks, just enough to get what you wanted. he takes the opening between the two of you to reach a hand down in between your thighs, fingers finding the right place in a second. he rubs you through your panties, delicately tracing the outline of your most sensitive area, before tugging your undergarments to the side at the same time you slide his boxers down.

“shiiit,”

shiu lets out a downright pornographic groan when he sees you grab his cock, quickly lining the sensitive, reddened tip up with your entrance. another long grunt forces out his throat when you sink down, burying his length into you until your clit is rubbing against pubic bone. you sigh heavily at the feeling of being so full of your husband. you stay just as you are for a few minutes, every so often clenching around shiu, in turn driving him crazy.

“you gotta move, doll,” shiu tries to demand, throwing his head back against the headrest.

“say please,” you tease him, leaning forward to place a peck on his jawline.

“please.”

although it’s not begging to most, shiu was never the kind of man to say please. not unless you made him say it. and that you did.

just as promised, you slowly begin to grind back and forth on shiu’s lap, giving the ever-so-slight friction shiu needed. he gives you a terrible, wounded groan at the feeling, head still thrown back in utter bliss. you lean forward again, peppering his jawline once more with your sweet kisses, feeling the smallest bit of stubble underneath your lips. shiu’s big, warm hands come to grip your hips, trying so hard to restrain from bruising you.

“fuuuck,”

shiu can’t stop himself from cursing when you begin to bounce just a little bit, sliding his cock out of you the tiniest bit and seemingly slamming yourself back onto him. his brain was effectively turned off, all feelings and thoughts went directly to his cock, throbbing painfully and pleasurably all in one. you giggled a little at seeing him so pathetic, only a state you could get him in.

“you need’ta keep up with me, old man.” you tease him again, and shiu’s head perks up straight to look at you.

perfect. right where you wanted him.

“yeah?” he dares, almost, the grip on your hips somehow tightening, “need to keep up? huh?”

his hands begin to lift your hips up on their own, forcing you back down on him as he rhythmically bucks his hips up to meet you. it’s a slow, mean, slap! every time your hole takes him all the way in. you nod your head fiercely, communicating you want him to make you “keep up”.

“shiu—wait!” you squeal as your husband instantly turns you over, backing you into the corner of the seat and pressing your knees into your chest. you’re smiling at the new position, until shiu drags his hips back and snaps them back into you.

your eyes roll all the way back, and shiu doesn’t stop. he pounds at you furiously, keeping you folded in half, on perfect display for him. his only focus is how pretty his wife looks, fucked out expression written across your face, in total euphoria because of how deep he hits you. his tip never fails to hit that spot, the one so deep and sensitive.  

tap-tap-tap

shiu’s movements still in a second and your head turns in terror when someone taps on the window you were pressed against. you struggle to push your husband off of you, but he goes nowhere, only devilishly grinning to the man that was locked out of the car, standing there awkwardly, watching the two of you go at it like animals.

fucking toji.

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

GET A LITTLE LOUD. I DON’T MIND.

—WITH GOJO SATORU

REMEMBER: THE CLASSROOMS AT JUJUTSU HIGH AREN’T EXACTLY SOUNDPROOF…

content: teacher!gojo, teacher!reader, husband!gojo, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, semi-public sex, against the wall, over the desk, creampie, gagging, panty-theft, use of names slut and whore, not proofread

notes: i’m back this is crazyyyy!! i literally wrote every other day and thought about posting but i never finished anything and then all of a sudden it’s been years :O and im back w gojo brainrot. p.s. obi content is still coming but u just gotta be patient sorry i literally am so rusty

words: 3374

“toru! they’re gonna hear you, not me!” you worried your words wouldn’t get past the lewd sounds gojo was making as he rammed his dick in and out of your pussy. he did all this while holding you against the wall of the classroom— where anyone could come in.

“oh, i’m not worried about getting us caught” each of his words was let out between harsh moans, breath heavy as he kept his open mouth pressed against your neck. so he did hear your concern, it just made absolutely no difference to him. there wasn’t even a stutter in his pace, set hard and fast as soon as he slipped inside you only a bit ago.

“then why’re you covering my mouth?” one of his large hands smothered the entire bottom half of your face, but you managed to squeeze your words through the small sliver of space between gojos long fingers just like before.

“because i can actually stop myself from screaming. can you?” he was taunting you, sure, but the truth in it had you blushing. you were a little embarrassed of how easy it was to get a sound out of you. it was hard for you to keep everything in when you were naturally so vocal, and it only got harder the closer you were to coming. satoru always loved the moment he could see your conscious efforts to stay quiet become entirely abandoned in pleasure. once you couldn’t hold back, neither did he, fucking you as hard as he could, until he wrung out every little praise, and whimper, from your pretty throat. when you couldn’t help but shout his name for everyone to hear was his favorite, and he hated having to smother all the noises that always turned him into a horny teenager. he didn’t hold back his own grunts and groans though, letting them out freely in the classroom, which you didn’t think was very fair.

“that’s n-aah!” you couldn’t help but prove him right, a high-pitched moan jumping from your throat when he lifted you up, only to slam you back down where he was waiting to meet your hips a particularly eager thrust of his own.

“mhmm there it is.” he gave a smug little laugh that was always so familiar coming from him. satisfied that he had proven his point, he went back to making sure you kept quiet. instead of using his hands to muffle you this time, he smothered them with his own deep groan through a passionate kiss.

it didn’t help your case that your only response was an increasingly dazed look in your eyes. he clapped a large hand over your mouth again as you clung to him for dear life. your nails scraped at the back of his expensive dress shirt, feeling the muscles of his back react to the sensation. you raked them up to the softly shaved snow on his nape, pushing another groan out of him. only one of satoru’s hands were free, but he was doing the work for both of them. sometimes your husband was gentle and soft during sex— this was not one of those times. there was nothing sweet about how he groped your ass, gripping and kneading at the skin harshly. every so often one of his fingers brushed against your unoccupied hole while his palms spread your ass slightly.

gravity had you feeling like he was fucking his cock into you well past your pussy. you felt a pleasurable shock each time he hit that perfect spot, shooting up your body. how could it not feel that good with the way you met him with every bounce on his pretty cock. you both got closer and closer, but not quite there. you knew from the beginning that would be short, but you two couldn’t resist a quickie. honestly, you couldn’t resist any opportunity to fuck.

the truth is, he meant it when he said he really didn’t care about being caught from all the noise, but he also didn’t like that getting caught meant having to stop before he could make you finish.

even deeper than that desire, the one he didn’t want to admit just yet, was his possessive need. satoru wanted to keep those pretty little screams all to himself. he figured that he was the one helping you make them, he should be the one who decides that only he gets to hear them. people could still know just who was claiming you by his own pornographic professions of pleasure. Maybe he would let you cry out in the end to reward you, if only because he wanted to hear you say his name like you always did.

to get you there, he was going to have to go just a little harder to push you over the edge. chasing both of your highs, he used all that famous speed of his to switch positions and bend you over the desk. it all happened so fast that even if he slipped out, you didn’t feel it.

the new angle already allowed him to go deeper, but it also allowed you to arch your back. satoru didn’t moan, he whined at the sight. he always loved seeing just how far you’d bend for him— literally. it made his cock throb inside of you, the blood pulsing through the veins along his shaft that were making each drag against your walls take you closer to heaven.

still muting you but no longer having to hold you up, he used a free hand to bully your clit as well as your hole. there was so much sap dripping down from your pussy, making the noise that rang out everytime your ass and his hips met even more vulgar. he easily gathered up some of the wet mix of both your juice and his precum on two of his fingers removing his hand from your mouth only to shove his fingers in instead.

“mmm fuck baby, taste yourself. taste us.” you gagged on them, the choking sound canceling out the much louder whines you were about to make.

he desperately tore off his blindfold, shoving it in your mouth as a gag and telling you to play with your pussy. even before his hand could grip your hips though, you were already meeting his thrusts.

he gripped your hips with his large hands, squeezing your body beneath him, “oh shit. yeah yeah please. keep slamming that ass back on me princess. please please please.” he begged as if he was at your mercy, even though his inescapable grip was the only thing keeping you from falling limp. he grit his teeth, feeling you tighten around him. you went from throbbing to squeezing him like a vice as your orgasm suddenly shocked through you. you shook, your knees knocking a bit as you used your last bit of strength to push back on him, feeling as much of his cock as you could while you creamed on it. your eyes rolled back almost like they were compensating for the screams you couldn’t let out.

as sensitive as you were, satoru wasn’t done yet.

“so so close, hold out princess.”

the gag slipped from your slacked jaw, but you bit your lip to stop any noise that came from the sensitivity. you nodded and satoru petted your head and smiled. with just your lip to stop you from making noise and you so close to coming, satoru didn’t give a shit about volume anymore. you were about to let out some of the sluttiest moans like you always do when you come, and he wasn’t gonna miss them for anyone. “You know what? get a little loud. i don’t mind,” just before ramming in so hard that he knocked over the desk. the last of your moans morphed into a panicked scream, mingled with the crash and bang of the desk falling, along with all the objects on it. you were nearly one of those things if satoru hadn’t tightly gripped your hips and your neck, keeping you fused together. so much was happening, but he made sure that you were right where you needed to be for him to pour all his cum inside you. it seemed that after everything, your voice couldn’t handle much more than a little whimper when you felt all his hot, thick cum filling you up. you always tightened your legs out of instinct to hold it all in, and it also helped you keep standing as he shuddered, letting a long stream of broken groans and eventually whimpers just by your ear. he wanted so badly to take his time watching his cum drip out of your hole just to gather every drop not inside you on his fingers and shove it back in. you always begged for his cum huh? he’d be a bad husband if he didn’t give you all of it.

shit. his mind cleared he assessed the damage less than a moment after. even with all this clutter on the floor, at least he didn’t add his cum to it he thought. still, the biggest mess was between your legs, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud about the two of you.

he immediately picked you up like a ragdoll and sat you down on a desk. you still felt your tongue threaten to loll out but you threw a leg over his shoulder out of instinct, giving him access between your legs to clean up the slick that covered your sex and thighs with his blindfold. it was already covered in spit anyway.

“fuck. someone definitely heard that” he murmured during his rushed clean up.

“who’s fault now huh—“ you were cut off by satoru’s reaction to hearing approaching steps he yanked you forward to button your shirt as you realized the person was running, very, very fast. you were both so relieved that you still had your skirt and he still had his pants on, leaving you one less thing to trip over. while he fumbled with your clothes you zipped up his pants and buckled his belt. gojo had just finished the very important task of checking to make sure no cum was leaking past your panties before yuuji came bursting through the door. you immediately hopped off the desk and smoothed down your hair and your skirt, while gojo tried to pass off his ruffled hair by acting like he’d been running his hand through it.

“hey, are you guys ok? we thought we heard something crash.” yuuji eyes darted to the desk on the floor, completely missing the raging blush on gojos face and the slight wobble in your knees. he opened his mouth to ask only to be shoved through the door when nobara came in hot behind him.

“hey! i thought we were all gonna check it out!” she scolded him with her whines.

“not my fault you’re slow!” he defended.

finally megumi strolled in, looking as nonchalant about the whole thing as he could be, in great contrast to his best friends.

“students!” you turned to satoru as he addressed them enthusiastically, “your teachers were just training and made a bit of a mess.” wow. that excuse just…well it sucks. you almost wanted to roll your eyes but had to do a double take. where did he get his glasses from? when did he put them on? leave it to gojo to keep his accessories on hand. it did help distract from how puffy and pink his lips were as he spoke.

“you were fighting in here?” yuuji tilted his head in question. combined with his big brown eyes, his actions had him looking like a puppy.

“it was impromptu.” you bolstered gojos excuse while trying not to cringe at how bad it was to begin with.

“ooh were you like couple fighting?” nobara jumped in with her question. it seemed she was way too intrigued by the prospect of drama to question how much sense it actually made, and you had absolutely no objections to that right now.

“wait things can get that heated to where you battle??” oh yuuji. he asked as if nobara knew all there was to know about the subject.

“no, no!” you waved your hands frantically, only to be completely tuned out once the two kids entered the mode of conspiracy. they talked lowly but didn’t whisper, as if you couldn’t hear them literally talking about you five feet away.

“i mean they totally look like they got into it.” nobaras chin was between her thumb and pointer finger while her eyes narrowed in inspection, yuuji mimicking her actions. after a second of tapping her cheek, she pointed directly at her sensei, making you and satoru almost jump a little bit. wow you had to get a hold of yourself. “no offense, but you should probably fix your hair.” nobara stated bluntly. gojo pouted. you thought he was adorable but also made a note to compliment his hair later.

megumi had been silent, not even really looking at you or the mess. his eyes just wandered the walls until it seemed like something clicked in his braim. his eyes darted back and forth between you and gojo. suddenly rolling his eyes letting out an exasperated “oh my god,” megumi just dragged a hand over his eyes and his face. he wasted no time turning around and walking away, seeming absolutely done with you two.

he caught nobaras curiosity and had her chasing him out the door and down the hall where you could hear her calling out “hey! hey, fushiguro come back!”

“hey wait what’s he talking about.” yuuji looked increasingly confused as he followed suit.

you almost slumped in relief you were so tired and you had to put effort into standing straight and not just falling into gojo. he looked at your relieved and tired face with a goofy smile. that smile. it disappeared as soon as you started slapping his arm.

“sa-to-ru!” a slap accompanied each syllable. “that was the worst excuse ever! there’s no way they’re not going to figure it out!” your hands kept slapping his bicep, but were just as quick to wrap around it right after. you pressed your cheek against the expensive cotton sleeve as you hugged his arm tightly and pouted just like he did as you looked up.

“c’mon let’s be real here, megumi would rather die than discuss our sex life with his friends. plus, we’re married, princess. i’m pretty sure a husband fucking his wife is like, the least surprising thing ever.” he rolled his eyes as he turned to wrap his arms around your waist, your hands resting on his chest.

“what about itadori? i’d hate for that kid to lose his innocence,”

“innocent? that kid is a self-proclaimed ass man.” taking advantage of the subject, one of satorus own hands came to rest on your ass. you quirked a brow but he pretended not to see your face and just continued, “i also saw a pinup poster in his room,”

“wait, really?” you stopped and shook your head a bit, like it would help you refocus on what you remembered you were talking about, “oh but still, toru, i know they know we have sex but—“

“but what?” he sighed, waiting for your most definitely poor reasoning.

“i don’t know, just” you started blushing and he knew that little embarrassed look. he knew you always liked to play the good girl, to hold on to your pride. if it didn’t make for such a fun game he’d say it’s a total waste of time knowing, without fail, he’d have you on his leash in minutes (literally or metaphorically depending on what your setting allowed). a single long finger tilted your chin up, his face suddenly so close to yours.

“oh you’re not worried about them finding out about my wife being fucked, you're worried about them finding out that she likes to be fucked like a slut.” such crude words came out in delicate breaths that fanned across your face.

“no!” your voice died out instantly when he pulled you a little closer again, your noses now touching instead of just your breath.

“hard enough for the desk to fall and loud enough to scream.” you had had sex minutes ago, and even worse, had almost gotten caught, and yet he was saying and doing everything to make your pussy throb all over again. you were always so easy for him to play with, never offering any real objections despite your attitude. “yeah? you don’t want them to know how desperate you are, how you just couldn’t keep your legs closed until we got home? because that’s all you want, isn’t it.” he whispered in your ear, your eyes fluttering back with chills. the sensation of him placing kisses on your neck brought you back to your senses once again.

“please, as if you didn’t run around the whole school just to say you needed ‘help’”

“and you’re suchhhh a good little helper for me, baby,”, he went to kiss you on the mouth you returned it, but as soon as he deepened it, you pushed him away and he had the audacity to look hurt. you were getting whiplash from having to repeatedly pull yourself together just to fall right into his hands again.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. i swear we almost got caught there’s no way we can go another round. you’re insatiable gojo satoru.”

“mhmm, we both are, mrs. gojo satoru.” he tapped your nose before lowering his voice once again. “so, how bout i take these panties, and we go home when my cum is about to leak past your skirt, huh?”

“fine. deal.” you huffed, but spread your legs quickly. he went on one knee to pull your panties down, enjoying the picture of your pussy and leaving a kiss on your clit which made you hiss, before he had the fabric dropping to your ankles. you stepped out of them and he swiftly pocketed them.

“i love my wifey so much!” he stood up and kissed you with a cute smile as if he hadn’t just shove your panties down his pants.

“that’s good because love you too toru,” you said softly, hands clasped behind your back and rocking back and forth on your heels with a lovesick look like a schoolgirl. honestly, he never stopped making you feel like one.

“aww so sweet.” he tucked a hair behind your hair, sending butterflies past your stomach and to your whole body, but you just knew that wasn’t all. “who woulda thought you were such a whore?” ah, theres your satoru.

“only for you” you patted his cheek jokingly, but he just groaned with his whole body. he had to do things in the most dramatic way possible of course.

“ugh. baby, you can’t just say things like that and then—“

you pushed him off, leaving him, arms still stretched out reaching for you, even after you walked out the door. he looked at the clock before deciding it was max 30 minutes before you asked to go home. you came back in 10.

— bonus:

“well i mean the honeymoon stage is like that, although it’s annoying and gross.” nobara shrugged while still stirring her boba.

“they’ve been married for 7 years. dated for 10.” megumi responded quietly, nobara consequently spewing her drink.

“no way! they act all starry-eyed and all that stuff still.” yuujis own eyes opened wider in surprise

“yeah that’s what i thought too!” it helped nobara that even yuuji had the same idea too. “ugh now that i know they’re just like that it’s kinda gross.”

“wait megumi if they’ve dated for 10 years, you lived with both of them at the same time, right?” both of megumis friends leaned closer to him, eager to hear where yuujis question went, but he didn't even look at them.

“yeah what about it,” he said as nonchalantly as ever. this was a topic he had always made a point never to dwell on.

“so you had to have heard—“

“okay, that’s enough. we’re never talking about this again.” ideas like yuujis were the exact reason why megumi refused to feel his interest. ideas like yuujis made him want to die from remembering just how many times he accidentally heard the two of you…daily.

“yeah gross, good idea.”

“um yeah, you’re right, don’t answer that actually.”

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

SPACE BETWEEN

uncle!leon kennedy x fem!reader

warnings: uncle-niece incest, 18+. content below the cut, vomit (non-sexual capacity), age gap (early-mid 30s to late teens-early 20s). fingering, oral (f! receiving, piv, creampie… Leon’s kind of a simp and lame tbh. ddlg undertones, just a little. heaps of praise :3

i got inspired by uncle from nicole dollanganger tbh.

“I want to marry my Uncle Leon!” you said when you were seven, smiling up at him with two front teeth missing, chubby baby arms wrapped around his thigh.

Half-uncle, really, but that’s semantics. It’s like someone saying the sky is blue and another person saying it’s turquoise. They’re both right, one’s just really fucking annoying about it.

He also thought you’d say you wanted to marry your dad, because that’s pretty common with kids. Most girl’s dads or brothers are their first loves, so he was pleasantly surprised at the honor of being your chosen husband.

Unfortunately, you’re also seven, and that’s very illegal.

Your dad chuckles and doesn’t bother to try and peel you off. He tried that once and you went back to sticking to him like sweat, so he didn’t bother after that.

“Do you have a wife, Uncle Leon?” You ask him, smiling up at him so sweetly. You got those dimples from your mom, and he’ll never admit it, but they melt his heart just a little.

“No, sweetheart.” He reaches down and ruffles your hair. “I’m all yours for the taking.”

You beam up at him, even as he messes up your hair. “Good! ‘Cause you’re all mine!”

Your dad snorts, promptly looking innocent when Leon glares at him halfheartedly.

“That’s right.” Leon lugs you up into his arms, kissing your temple and giving you the faintest smile. “I’m all yours.”

He sees you a little less and less as the years wear on. He’s busy and you’re busy and grow from a sweet kid to a petulant preteen to an awkward teenager.

He’s still the first one you call, though, when you’re sixteen and drunk at a house party you shouldn’t be at. You’re swaying a little as he pulls up to the curb.

Leon leans over and opens the door for you—you toddle over and slam his door shut with a soft apology. “I didn’t wanna be there anymore.” You say, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” He reaches over and rubs your shoulder. “I’m glad that you called me instead of your dad.”

“Thanks.” You’re a little tacky with sweat and smell like a brewery and some sickly sweet floral perfume when you lean over to put your head on his shoulder. Baby’s first grown-up perfume instead of the body spray they sell at bath and body works. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m still glad it was me.” Leon reiterates, kissing the top of your head. “C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you home. Seatbelt on.”

You pull away reluctantly, buckling in your seatbelt with clumsy hands. “I know, I know. I got the riot act from my doctor when I got the physical done for the permit. Seatbelts yes, swerving no.” You grumble, pushing a sparkly hand through your hair.

He snorts, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. “Is that everything?”

“She said she’d pull my license if she caught me.” You reply, propping a temple on your fist. “‘Cause she’s a doctor and a mandatory performer—reporter. Mandatory reporter.”

Leon can’t help a quiet chuckle, even when you swat at him. “You got there in the end.”

The quiet roll of the car rocks you right to sleep, and he sneaks glances at you as he moves around pot holes and takes speed bumps slowly to avoid jostling you awake and fucking up his suspension. Cute, your nose still twitches like a bunny’s when you sleep. He thinks you got that from your mom too.

He gently wakes you up when he’s stopped in front of your house, reaching over and unbuckling your seatbelt before petting your head. “Gotta wake up, sweetheart, come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

You groan behind a closed mouth, face scrunching up. “No…”

He almost laughs. “Come on, I’ll help you up and out.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and jogs over to your side when he’s out of the car, opening the door and bodily carrying you out of the car.

The movement’s a little much and you gag, sweat breaking out on your skin.

Leon aims you away from himself just in time, rubbing your back as you puke loudly in your yard. He reaches over and holds your hair back with a grimace. “You’re alright. You’re okay. Just get it out.” He murmurs, rubbing your back once you stop retching.

When you straighten up, he wipes your mouth and his hand on his jeans. “You’ll feel a bit better in the morning.” Leon tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leading you to the front door. You fumble a little for your house keys, but get inside after he kisses your temple and wishes you a goodnight. “‘Night, Leon.”

“Night.” He repeats, gently shutting the door behind you. He goes back to his car and drives home, that sickly perfume smell lingering on the seats like you personally cropdusted them.

Vanilla, white florals, he thinks he smells coffee before it lapses into a sort of acrid smell. Otherwise, perfectly inoffensive on you, perfectly inoffensive to anyone with a working nose, to be honest.

He wishes you’d wear something a little more offensive, strong, something definitively you. Florals tend to be powdery and come off as something an old lady would wear, and that’s not very sexy at all, is it?

Cherry, he thinks would fit you perfectly well. Strawberries. Maybe they make apple perfumes.

When Christmas rolls around, he does exactly that, after skulking around Ulta and eventually asking for perfume recommendations from an associate.

Leon comes back with something strawberry, something jasmine and red berries. He splurged a little bit on a gingerbread perfume, but he doesn’t mind, might as well have something festive to give you.

When it comes time to get the gang together, he tosses it all in a pretty, sparkly bag with blue tissue paper and a tag with your name on it because he’s shit at wrapping gifts.

You cling to him a little tighter with the greeting hug he gives you. Maybe you’re still grateful he didn’t snitch about the party.

Either way, Leon returns the tight hug and gives you a pointed smile as he asks, “How’ve you been?”

You, to your credit, barely flinch, though he can see in your eyes you know exactly what he’s talking about. “Been good, glad to be out of school for the next two weeks. Merry Christmas.”

He clicks his tongue, then disengages and steers you over to the living room and sits right next to you after depositing his gift for you under the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas. Yeah, I bet. No more waking up at six in the morning for the bus at six-forty. Been staying out of trouble?” He gives you a sly look, head cocking just to the side.

Your eyes narrow at him playfully as you smile back despite yourself. “Yeah. I’ve been too busy with work to really get up to something bad.”

“Ah, that’s the way to keep it.” He slings an arm over the back of the couch, getting up after a moment to get himself a bit of eggnog, your mom’s recipe. “How much do you get?” He asks when he’s sitting down again, arm back over the couch.

And so it goes from there. You get the most of the spread of presents, being the kid and all.

Your mom and dad each got one another something and him some comfy clothes, he sorely needs them.

Whilst he was shopping for you, he ducked into some department store and got your parents some simple stuff. Soap, pajama sets and the like.

You look extremely surprised—and pleased? Leon’s heart might not take it if you hate the gifts—when you pull the perfumes out of the bag. “Whoa. How much did you spend?” You ask him immediately.

Leon scoffs, taking a sip of eggnog to hide a nervous shift. “It wasn’t much, they’re all samples.” The strawberries and cream one was like thirty-five bucks, so was the jasmine and red fruits one; he spent about fifty on the gingerbread one because he couldn’t find a smaller size than just an ounce. “Besides, I make the big bucks.”

Your mom sneaks a glance at Leon, then stealthily looks up the prices of the perfumes she can see, eyes going comically wide before she gives him a disapproving look. “Leon!”

“Yes?” He asks innocently, plastering on the most charming smile he has. Before she can start, Leon shakes his head, giving her a ‘don’t worry’ wave of his hand. “Come on, I make a hundred and twenty in a day.” More, actually, but still.

Your mom looks like she’s going to argue before your dad lays a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head with an amused look. “I’m putting a budget cap on the presents next time.” She decides after a moment.

Leon smirks, shooting you a wink. “Duly noted.” Then, he nods at you, manspreading because you’re on the floor. “What do you think?”

You pull off the caps of the perfumes and sniff them without spraying them, making faces with each sniff test. “Whoa.”

“Good?” God, he’s hoping you like them.

You nod, smelling the gingerbread one again. “Yeah. These are so cool.” Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “Thanks, I love them.”

Relief loosens his chest a little. Leon gives you a smile. “I was hoping so.”

He stays over for dinner and maybe a little afterward, just catching up with the rest of you guys.

All too soon, it comes time to say goodbye, they hope he comes again soon to terrorize everyone with his extravagant presents.

He spends the most time hugging you goodbye.

You graduate in the spring and he makes sure to actually dress up for this occasion. Someone only ever graduates five times in their life—kindergarten, fifth grade, eighth grade, high school, college.

Leon’s wearing a suit that had a little dust on it when he dug it out of the back of his closet, the collar and tie is a little tight around his neck and he keeps fidgeting until nudged by your dad because you’re walking across that stage.

God, it’s so weird to see you all grown up.

He was one of the few to hold you after you were born before you started fussing for your mom. He babysat you a few times so your parents could go have a date night. He was over at your fucking house almost every other day because your dad wanted to hang with his half-brother.

He’s getting really old. He’s starting to reminisce the way their dad did about high school friends and the like. For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty-five, not sixty-five.

You get a picture from the photographer, grinning from ear to ear. It’s well deserved, you fucking hated high school, he remembers the complaints. Then you go sit back in your spot and wait to flip your tassel.

Finally, all the fucking pomp and circumstance is over with. Here endeth the high school.

He and your parents find you a bit afterward, all of them drag you into giant hugs before they go to the car and treat you to dinner before you get all your graduation cash with a side of birthday treats.

He got you another perfume, a sultry cherry scent.

Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ in the manger in the fucking Inn. Mary and Joseph above him. Leon might as well just go caving if he’s going to hell, getting trapped underground would be so much easier.

Leon has to put on sunglasses when he sees you in that American flag bikini the summer after you graduate, flapping his blanket out on the sand and posting his flip flops on opposite corners.

It’s a little on the nose for the holiday, but he’s more than willing to stand for the flag. He’s much more partial to kneeling, but standing works too.

He strips off his shirt and begins slathering himself in sunscreen because he’s gonna turn into a lobster in less than fifteen minutes, he’s calling it.

Your dad bets ten. Your mom bets five.

Lucky you, you got the tanning without burning genes, also from your mom. You go right in without worrying about sunscreen.

He sits there after taking off his sunglasses and spending an extraordinary amount of time trying to reach his back. Like he wants to be peeling the next time he has to go fight some BOWs.

At some point, you resurface from the water after he resigns himself to a burned back, picking up your towel and laying it around your shoulders to cushion your wet hair. “Need some help? You’re cooking.” You point vaguely at his semi-red back.

Leon stares for a second before wordlessly handing you his sunscreen and shifting so his back is to you. This is a sure fire way to avoid tempting himself.

He hears you snort when the bottle makes a funny noise, then the weird sound of your wet hands rubbing together as you warm up the sunscreen before applying it in broad sweeps around his back.

“You and dad burn so easily.” You mutter, still rubbing in the sunscreen. Your long nails graze his skin on occasion and he fights the urge to stiffen up.

“You’re lucky,” Leon says after swallowing quietly, “you got the tanning from your mom. Certainly didn’t get it from your dad.” His hands bunch up his trunks.

You snort again, rubbing away the last of the white streaks across his back before leaning back on your hands. “Or you.”

Well, he only shares about twenty-five percent of your DNA, that’s why. He learned that after an alcohol-fueled dive—and no less than five orgasms—in the incognito tab. In some places, if both parties are over the age of consent, incest is totally legal. Some can even get married.

He shifts so he’s laying down on his blanket, a soft and amused snort catching your attention. “True.” He crosses his arms behind his head, soaking up the sun now that he’s in danger of not burning to a crisp and missing the way your eyes linger just a little too long.

Turning twenty-one is a big occasion. You can get scratch offs, buy your own drinks, smoke if you damn well want to.

You, lucky girl, get two parties. One with family, one with your friends who can also drink.

Leon comes for the former that takes place the day afterward. Your parents and him didn’t wanna cramp your hot, early twenties style.

You guys go out to your choice of restaurant, then come back and have some celebratory drinks as you open your presents. Some cash, shirts, a new backpack, and some perfume, courtesy of Leon.

He went digging for the really niche ones and came back with one that smells like cat fur, cake, a bit of florals because female perfumes can never fucking escape florals. It was named for the ballet step, pas de chat. Step of the cat. He thought he’d try something out of the box.

You seem to like it, the way your face breaks into a smile. “Thanks. This is nice.” You spritz a little on your wrist and smell it, lighting up just a little bit.

Leon smiles back too, a tad softer than his usual sly smile he wears. He’s been told he has a bit of a smug face. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” He nods, raising his glass to you briefly.

He’s invited to stay over as long as he likes, or even stay in the guest bedroom if he wanted to, he’s informed by your parents as they go upstairs to bed.

Which is why he’s ruminating as he stares a hole through his glass, pondering the beer and the bubbles in it.

Leaving him defenseless to you slipping into his lap.

It takes him a second, but he gets there, eyes wide as he looks up at you.

Your perfume floats over once you sling an arm around the back of his neck, something sweet and warm that makes him want to tuck his face into your neck, your eyes remarkably clear despite the three margaritas you had. “What are you doing?” He asks after a second of just staring at you.

You give him a sly look, head cocking to the side. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Getting into trouble.” Leon’s empty hand lands on your lower back as he leans forward, setting his glass of beer on the side table, his once occupied hand landing on your thigh where your shorts rode up.

That feline smile remains on your face. “I’m rather good at that.”

He snorts, slowly rubbing your thigh. “I noticed. You’re welcome for not snitching to your parents that one time.”

You snort too, bringing him closer with the arm around his neck. “Yeah, I owe you my life.”

Leon nudges your nose with his, starting to smile slightly too. “You joke, but your mother would’ve killed you.”

“I think she knew.” You admit, shifting a little closer on his lap.

Leon’s hand slowly travels up your inner thigh, your legs parting for him just a little. He pauses, eyes flicking back up to you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, swallowing nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

That’s that, then. He unbuttons your jean shorts one-handed, tugging down the zip gently, his grin widening when he sees the bit of lace visible on your waistband. “Planned this, did you?”

His eyes flick up to yours as he gently slides his hand between your underwear and shorts, gently cupping you through it, gratified when he sees you inhale sharply.

“Hoped, actually.” You admit near shamelessly, thighs spreading a little more.

“Well,” Leon can’t help feeling a little smug, slowly grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, “I hope you can be quiet.”

He dips his head down, nosing at your neck, down your collarbone and to your chest as his hand keeps slowly moving. He won’t be satisfied until there’s a wet spot.

The scent of your perfume grows a little stronger and his eyes flutter shut, his not busy hand pushing up your shirt at the back so he can rest his palm on your back.

He increases the pressure and you twitch a little, stiffening just a little. “Take this off.” Leon mumbles without lifting his head.

You tug off your shirt and he groans lowly, hiding his face back in your tits as he sucks and licks at the skin. He shifts his hand, gently dragging his fingers up before gently tapping your clit, then tucking his hand into your underwear, grinning fiendishly when there’s a puddle slicking you all the way up.

“Messy girl…” he can’t help taunting, biting down over your heart.

You whine just a little and he can literally feel all his blood rush south. It’s a surprise he didn’t faint, to be honest.

Gently, he pushes a finger in, cooing with a soft click of his tongue when you whimper. “Shh, shh, it’s ok.” He murmurs, pushing in all the way and waiting a little for you to get used to it as he messes with your clit so you stop clenching, chest heaving just a little. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl.”

Slowly, he begins pumping, making sure to graze your clit with his palm, getting himself all sticky. Maybe he’ll shake your dad’s hand with this one.

When you’re fucking yourself back, hips moving of their own accord, pretty mouth open, he adds another, curling them just until he feels that spongy spot and hitting it with precision. “There we go… that’s my girl.” Leon grins up at you, kissing your jaw as he fingers you open.

His hand is cramping just a little, but he’ll push through it for his girl.

“You’re doing so well.” He murmurs as he lays you on the couch, dragging down your bottoms as one hand slows down just a little. You whine and he clicks his tongue, pouting at you just a little before he kisses it off.

Once you’re naked, save for the bra—Leon likes the way tits look when they’re pushed out of the bra by a vigorous fucking—Leon whistles quietly, planting a kiss above your bellybutton piercing as he lays down between your open thighs. “So pretty, baby. So, so pretty.”

You have to slam a palm over your mouth when his own seals across your clit as his fingers keep moving inside you, speeding up just a little. He laughs, more vibration than sound, at least the way you feel it.

Watching you come for the first time will be seared into his mind forever. It started with the little things. Your chest was heaving, your thighs were starting to try and close around his head, your pussy starting to spasm.

Then, it happens. Your upper half snaps up, your eyes scrunching shut as you muffle what could’ve been a very incriminating noise if your hand wasn’t covering your mouth.

You sag back against the couch, chest heaving as Leon pumps his fingers and sucks you through it, leaning away and gently pulling his fingers from you when you start twitching.

“My poor baby.” He breathes, sucking his fingers clean before leaning up, hands bracketing the side of your head. “Good?”

You nod after a second. “Good.”

He gives you a soft smile, pushing some hair behind your ear. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m your girl?” You open your eyes, a little dopey smile across your face.

“‘Course, you’re my girl.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Always have been.”

Leon lives in fear of your parents finding out for at least a couple months. That’s what wakes him up in the night, not just memories from Raccoon City, Spain, Tall Oaks, et cetera.

God, he’d be hung by his toenails and skinned alive. Like when Willow killed Warren on Buffy, but a lot more drawn out because your dad would be in on it too.

You guys are at a vacation house the night you two first have sex.

It starts the same way him fingering you on the couch did. You slide into his lap long after everyone’s gone to sleep, he gets his fingers wet when you guys are in his room.

His room is a little further from your parents room than yours, hence the choice.

He lays you down and gets you off another time to hopefully make this painless, tangling a hand with yours. Only when you push at his head does he stop, grinning like a fat cat.

Leon doesn’t smile when he pushes in, watching you carefully for when he needs to stop and let you breathe.

Slowly, he’s seated balls deep inside you, hands on either side of your head. “Good, baby? Are you okay?” He pushes some of your hair back, relieved when you turn your head and kiss his palm.

“Good.” You reach a hand down and feel around, smiling slightly when he winces.

“Jesus, give me a moment. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Leon mutters, shifting a little so he can spread your legs a little more, hands dimpling the fat of your thigh.

You gasp quietly at the shift and nod, one hand over your tit, the same one he marked when he fingered you on the couch. “Leon…” you breathe, moving your legs to wrap around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He whispers, gently shifting before drawing back and thrusting in.

Your eyes scrunch shut as you let out a soft yelp. Quickly, Leon settles his palm over your mouth, shifting so his weight is on his opposite elbow. “Hush, sweetheart. Don’t want your parents busting in, huh?”

You shake your head, face settling into a blissful expression as he starts moving, little sounds punched from you from each firm roll of his hips.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles down at you, leaning down and licking up the sweat from your neck all the way up to your earlobe, kissing it and hiding his face in your neck. “My pretty baby girl.”

Leon lifts his head up, his face hovering by the side of yours as he grins. “I got you. I got my girl.”

Ah, the praise gets to you, just a little bit. He can tell because you get a little tighter and he has to fight so this doesn’t end too early.

He’s a gentleman, he refuses to come before you.

“Can you be quiet, baby? Wanna play the quiet game?” He chuckles when you nod, removing his hand so he can play with your clit and get you just that extra bit closer.

This close, he gets to watch you pause before your upper half snaps up again, your arms wrapping around Leon as you gasp into his shoulder.

It’s your orgasm that undoes him, his hips stuttering before he fills you up, collapsing on top of you as he gasps, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as his body to yours.

To mom and dad:

I’m really sorry if I worry you both. Leon and I know you wouldn’t approve, which, for obvious reasons, makes sense.

Trust me when I say we love each other. I’ll still be studying, it’s not like he wants me to drop out.

I love you guys so much. Please don’t be mad.