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#comfort husband
captainkirkk · 1 year
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I want to see characters being taken care of in an explicit and worshipful way. Home-cooked meals. Hair brushed and braided by gentle hands. Little gifts just because.
I want to read about characters who are not used to kindness being bombarded by acts of service. This trope works romantically and platonically. Give me found family and acts of service - all the ways a character is wrapped up in wordless, explicit care after years of cruelty and having no idea how to handle. I need it.
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vavoom-sorted-art · 6 months
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Okay so
we're having an angst war over on @goodomensafterdark and @gleafer, @gahellhimself-blog and I are having a competition who can spread the most pain and suffering. Here's my contribution. Enjoy
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don't worry, this isn't the end yet: here's part two. | Part 3
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dingledraw · 7 days
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South Downs cottage fluff based on the Dolly Parton song “Berrypie” 🩷
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queer-reader-07 · 8 months
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“i want aziracrow to have a proper kiss” this. “what about a sex scene?” that.
fuck it. i want these bitches to hug. just one really nice, really long, emotionally healing hug.
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a-bisexual-panicking · 3 months
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so, uhh...yeah, I'll take two portions of queer demonic beings who act grumpy but are actually the sweetest and most caring beings in the universe who call the one they love "angel" for one reason or another
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that's perfect thanks
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illustoryart · 5 months
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I've seen the first light in the Universe,
two million sunsets and sunrises,
but nothing as beautiful as you.
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silverhairsimp · 3 months
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who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou
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I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.
Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.
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Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?
“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a had on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.” 
The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back. 
He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work. 
“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…” 
His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.
“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.” 
You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.” 
“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.” 
He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass. 
‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’
He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.” 
The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame. 
“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match. 
“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality. 
“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”
“Katsuki— you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.” 
“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives. 
“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time. 
Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!” 
Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki. 
“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!” 
It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall. 
Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in. 
You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed. 
“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…
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victorzhuzhakin · 6 months
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I had surgery yesterday and my teeth look normal for the first time in years. I present royalteeth angst to you
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bluessom1 · 3 months
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The honey to my moon 🌬
Husband!Leon S. Kennedy x wife!reader
《A/N》: I'm back babyyyyyyy. Sort of. I don't know, we'll see. This is inspired by 'Alrighty Aphrodite' by Peach Pit so take a listen if you feel like it!! FYI this can be read for ANY Leon (like most of my Leon fics) I just use RE4R Leon in the banner bc of favoritism <3
~Fi 🐝
(Pssst, my requests are open!)
《Content》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, cockwarming, creampie (don't do that) consensual groping. Very, very sweet, of course! Lotsa domestic moments with Leon, basically a collection of cute moments I think would happen on your Honeymoon <3
Reader is implied to be chubby/ has stretch marks and tummy fat bc who doesn't???? (I still love you if you don't)
《Word count》: 3.4k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🪷── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The, not quite shrill, yet still very annoying sound of your alarm ripped you out of your pleasant dreams. With a soft groan you stirred in the arms of your husband, which you were comfortably pressed against.
After a quick rub of your eyes, a smile formed on your lips as you remembered what day it was.
You turned to face Leon, admiring his peaceful expression for just a moment before you couldn't resist the twitching urge in your fingertips anymore and you gently ran them down the bridge of his nose and over his cheek.
His brows furrowed slightly, and his nose scrunched up at the tickling sensation on his skin.
"Happy one week of being married, baby." You whispered softly, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone.
A dopey grin tugged at his lips, and he pulled you even closer to him with a soft hum. His lips found yours in a clumsy attempt at a good morning kiss.
"My beautiful, beautiful wife..." he mumbled against your lips, making you giggle and melt into his embrace at the same time.
"Can you believe it's been a week already?" You were cut off by yawn that decided to rudely interrupt your sentence.
"No... feels like I just fell in love with you yesterday." He let out a soft breath as his eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, letting his touch linger as he slipped into a moment of comfort and love.
You sighed against his skin, feeling sleep still deep in your bones, but both knew you'd have to leave your shared cocoon of affection sooner than you wanted to.
"We have to get up... we'll miss our flight.." You slurred, fighting the heavy drooping of your eyelids from the warmth that Leon enveloped you in.
He grumbled softly under his breath, something about 'ungodly early flights', which made you crack a grin.
"Alright, up we go.." he groaned, heaving his body into an upright position, with you still securely in his arms, rubbing a hand over his face to get rid of the tiredness that remained in his muscles. With a peck to your nose, Leon stood from the bed, stretching his arms and neck with a yawn.
You crawled up onto your knees, your arms comfortably fitting around the curve of his neck and shoulders as you let your lips find his again in a tender kiss.
"Good morning, my handsome, handsome husband.." You purred, making Leon chuckle.
"Are you copying me, sweetheart?" He asked with a smirk as his hands migrated down to your waist.
"It's the highest form of flattery, don't you know?" You replied with a wicked grin, feeling his fingers dig just a little tighter into the flesh of your waist.
"Yeah, yeah.." he playfully rolled his eyes as you giggled, getting out of bed.
"Come on, we're on a time crunch." You let your hand slip from the embrace of his as you made your way to the bathroom.
He quietly followed you, landing a gentle slap on your ass. You yelped at the impact, jumping forward before turning around with angrily scrunched brows.
"Hey!" You pouted, rubbing the faint red mark on your skin.
"Just crunching time, babe." He shrugged with a cokcy smirk on his face.
You rolled your eyes and huffed some words under your breath, making him snicker.
"Actually, let me help you in there." He declared, reaching you in a few strides and pushing you into the bathroom.
"What- I don't need help brushing my teeth!" You argued, trying to push back against him.
"Who said anything about brushing teeth, huh, honey?" He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand up.
"Leon-"
"Whaddaya say we get this Honeymoon started early?" He said against the skin of your neck, trailing soft kisses along the column of your throat.
"No, no, no, we have a flight to catch!" You said sternly, clinging onto the doorframe.
"Oh, come on, baby.. you know how fast I can make you fall apart.." he breathed into your ear, slipping his hands underneath your shirt.
Leon tugged at your middle, firmly enough to make you struggle but leaving enough room if you wanted to back out. With the feeling of his hands on your skin and his breath ghosting deliciously over your neck, you relented, letting your grip on the doorframe loosen.
You gently slipped past the door with him and let out a soft sigh as his lips met your neck once again as the door of the bathroom fell shut.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
With packed bags, an excited attitude about going on your Honeymoon and a couple of new love bites just below the collar of your shirt, you were off to the airport.
You yawned as you watched the few city lights pass by, the streets empty. No surprise, really.
No person would willingly be up and about at this hours, except a few joggers (who were clearly insane) and the poor souls who'd just finished the night shift.
Leon's hand envolped yours tightly, keeping hold of it while the other one was loosely wrapped around the steering wheel, as you sped down the highway.
"Don't rip my head off, but.." he broke the silence, making you turn attention away from the lights flashing past the window, "you've got all the papers 'n documents and whatever we need, right?" Leon asked, slightly chewing on his lip.
You would never let him live it down if you forget your tickets and other papers just because of the desperate morning romp that had occurred because of his neediness. You would curse him to the sun if you'd had to cancel your Honeymoon purely because he couldn't keep his hands to himself.
You chuckled and whipped out a clear folder with a plethora of printed e-mails, copies over copies of important information, and so on.
"Being overly prepared runs in the family." You chirped, waving around the, surprisingly thick, folder. Leon visibly relaxed, a dopey smile gracing his face.
"So that's why the printer ran out of ink." He mused, glancing your way. You shrugged with a mischievous glint in your eyes and Leon chuckled, pulling you into his side to press a kiss to your cheek before going back to driving down the seemingly endless roads to the airport.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"Airport coffee is truly something... special." Leon forced out, clearing his throat and disapprovingly eyeing the dark liquid in his paper cup.
"That's why you get the good stuff." You sipped your hot chocolate smugly, watching as Leon cracked a grin and pulled you into his side.
"Can I have a sip?" He asked sweetly, nosing your hair. You wordlessly handed him the cup as your head went to rest on his shoulder.
"I'll always share with you." A small smile sat on your lips as you quietly told him.
Leon raised a brow at you with the faintest hint of a smirk.
"I know for a fact, that's not true."
"Oh piss off." You grumbled, breaking into a smile.
"Tell that to the cookies you didn't share. Or the leftover Pizza. And the-"
"Okay, okay! Point is, I'm sharing now." You huffed, making Leon grin.
"Thank you, angel." He hummed, placing a kiss to your hairline.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You let yourself fall onto the bed with a thump, sighing in relief at the soft mattress beneath you.
"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a nap." You said, a little mumbled. The bed shook as Leon dropped down next to you, immediately reaching for your hand.
"A nap sounds nice." He sighed, eyes falling shut. You laid in silence and soft breaths for a moment, already starting to doze off. "We could nap by the pool." He suggested, turning on his side to face you. You rolled over in a similar fashion.
"That's just your excuse to see me in a bathing suit and lather me in suncreen." You snorted, poking his chest. He cracked a smug grin.
"Would that be such a crime? A husband wanting to see his gorgeous wife in a bathing suit?" He defended with a smirk, cupping the back of your neck and gently stroking his thumb along your jaw.
"We could get lunch and maybe some drinks..." You thought out loud, weighing your options. You'd either get a good nap and be hungry when you wake up, or you could get a descent snooze plus some lunch, maybe a cocktail and a shirtless Leon.
"Alright, the pool it is." You declared, watching as Leon almost jumped off the bed with excitment.
You both packed a little bag with the essentials; sunscreen, sunglasses, a book, and whatever else you thought you'd need.
Leon was in the bathroom, making a suspicious amount of clattering noises, when he peaked his head out the door.
"Babe?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you wear the blue one? Please?" He asked bashfully, a pinkish tint on his cheeks.
Your expression softened, and your heart melted.
It amazed you how he could straight up ask you to fuck you before your flight, but asking you to wear his favorite bathing suit of yours was flustering him.
"Of course, honey."
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"... Lee."
"Hm?"
"My ass does not need any more sunscreen."
"Just don't want you to get burned." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder while shamelessly massaging sunscreen into the fat of your rear.
"Leon Kennedy, get your hands off my behind before I beat yours!" You scolded, swatting his hands away.
He grinned and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"You can feel me up all you want in private, baby, but not in public."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just doing my husbandly duties and making sure you weren't gonna like a tomato."
"... you're lucky I love you." You narrowed your eyes at him, huffing when he blew you a kiss.
"I love you, angel." He said softly, retreating to his own sun chair.
"I love you too, you cute idiot."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Your wine glasses clinged together as you sat on the cold stone of your balcony, huddle together with blankets and pillows.
It was a clear night, and a few stars decided to show themselves. It wasn't necessarily cold, but the breeze that passed by did make it a little chilly.
There was the crunching of snacks and the chatter and laughter between bites as you watched the stars and the moon illuminate the vast property of the Hotel.
Other couples might've chosen to fancy up and go out for dinner but Leon and you had chosen to do what you did best; not fit in the box.
Instead of eating way too small portions for an outrageous price while pretending that you felt comfortable in such a posh setting and simultaneously being defeated by the ridiculous amounts of forks beside your plate, you had a cozy evening with the love of your life.
You did splurge on the bottle of wine, but it was your Honeymoon, after all.
The gentle gusts of wind coming up from the coast left goosebumps on your skin and a salty taste on your lips.
"Today was really nice.." You spoke quietly, enjoying the peace of the moment.
"Yeah, I think so, too. Can't wait to spend the next two weeks with you like this." Leon replied in a soft and loving tone that almost fell into a whisper. Your head rested on his shoulder, like it usually did, your hand reaching for his.
The cold metal of his ring sent a pleasant shiver up your spine as you entangled your fingers and curled closer into him.
Leon happily obliged your silent plea for closeness and wrapped you in his arms.
"I know that I won't be able to ever put into words how much I love you, so I want you to know that deeply cherish every moment with you." You looked up at him, and his features softened as he gently held your face.
"I know you do. I can... I can feel it. Is that weird? I just sort of feel the love radiating off of you all the time. I hope you feel that when you're with me as well."
You looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky himself, the same ones you were admiring, and everything in him just melted.
"I do feel it. Not only are you my husband, but you're my best friend too. Two-in- one." You smiled sweetly, scooching further up in his hold just to be that little bit closer.
"I'm so glad that I married you." He whispered, firmly pulling your lips against his in a passionate kiss.
You'd never get bored of the feeling when he kissed you, the love and tenderness pouring from it. But there was a slight ache in your heart that you'd never be able to kiss him enough to quench the raging flames inside your chest.
You pulled away for a breath, with puffy lips and shimmering eyes that showed Leon just how much you truly cared for him.
"That makes two."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The softness of the bedsheets on his fingertips made Leon brows furrow. He was expecting a different softness; you.
Laying majestically next to him, bathed in the morning sun that poured in, even through the curtains. He lifted his head off the pillow with a disgruntled sound, blinking away the sleep in his eyes to look for you.
There were trickles and splashes of water that gently broke through the comfortably silent atmosphere. There was a slight breeze coming from the open balcony door, making the curtains sway.
Leon made his way to the terrace and, good heavens, the sight before him was enough to make him lightheaded.
You were perched on the edge of the small stone pool that you were extremely excited about ever since you laid eyes on it, skin glistening from the water with your hair intricately stuck to your back.
That would've been enough to make all the blood from Leon's cheeks to rush down south, making his boxers feel tight, but that wasn't all. There were bubbles.
Soft, foamy suds that clung to your hips and the curve of your waist, truly making you look divine with the morning sun shining down on you. Your legs were swishing in the water, taking in the peaceful morning while everyone else was far off in their dreams.
Leon's mouth hung open slightly, and it took every ounce of power in him to stop himself from drooling, but he didn't waste any time sliding the door open further to get through.
The noise made you look back over your shoulder with a soft smile when you saw him striding towards you.
Strong and familiar arms wrapped themselves around you, trying to discreetly feel you up.
"Good morning, honey." You spoke gently, stroking over his forearms that were tightly situated around your middle.
"Absolutely great morning if you ask me." He chuckled lowly, though not failing to press a kiss to your lips with such affection it almost covered any seductive intent behind his words.
"Christ, baby, you look heavenly..." he breathed against your ear, sliding his hands towards your hips to knead at the plush flesh and feel the shimmering grooves of stretch marks beneath his fingertips.
"Thought I'd wake you up with a little surprise for being the best husband a girl could ask for." You replied sweetly, trying to play innocent as if his calloused hands on your wet skin didn't ignite an inferno deep in your gut.
He let out an amused chuckle, slyly moving one hand to the pudge of your belly and the other kneading one of your soft tits.
With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back against his shoulder.
"You look like Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam, do you know that?" He asked gently, making your head spin with the way he was so easily drowning your mind in both lust and affection.
You chuckled, turning on your knees to face him.
"Well, then... will you do me the honors and be my Ares?" You purred, trailing your hand down his chest all the way to his cock straining in his boxers, cupping the member and squeezing gently.
A groan ripped from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
"Whatever you wish, my love." He whispered, guiding you back into the natural stone pool, watching with a ravenous gaze.
His underwear was quickly discarded, and he joined you in the water, backing you up against one of the rounded walls.
One hand on your waist, the other carefully placed on the back of your neck to cushion the hard edge of the stone
. His lips found yours in a loving manner, quite the opposite to his lusting eyes that raked over your naked form, but as much as Leon wanted to devour you, he wanted love you.
He reveled in his love for you. All he needed was to be close to you, as close as reality would allow and if that entailed him buried to the hilt inside your delightful cunt he wasn't one to complain.
Your bodies were pressed together, your tits squished up against his chest, and his dick laying heavy between your thighs. Your lips and tongues danced together like they had done so many times before, eliciting the occasional soft groan or sigh from you and Leon.
The bubbles littered on the water surface stuck to his broad back as you ran your fingers down the length of his spine.
"Can I, sweetheart?" He asked breathlessly, staring at your blown out pupils and puffy lips.
"Mhm, yes, please... need to be closer.." You responded equally as breathless before fiercely capturing his addicting lips once again.
The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and with a shuddering breath he pushed past your lips and slid snuggly inside of you.
"F-Fuck... my perfect girl... God, I love you so much.." he groaned as quietly as he could, feeling a shiver run through him at the warm embrace of your gummy walls.
He quickly muffled himself by gently biting down on your shoulder.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you held him tighter, suppressing any sounds you might've made. Leon slowly rocked his hips into yours.
They weren't full thrusts, but they didn't need to be. This wasn't about an earthshattering orgasm that would knock the wind from your lungs, it was about feeling close and loved and his lazy and sloppy movements into your pussy did just that, with an added bit of pleasure.
Leon continued to rock his hips, dragging his heavy cock against your insides just right.
His pelvis hit your clit perfectly with each sloppy thrust, his happy trail adding to the euphoric sensation.
You were seeing stars by now.
Both of you were still sleepy and sensitive from waking up recently so you were at the brink of your edge already.
"Le-Leon.." You managed to get out between quiet moans that you were trying your best at biting back.
The sloshing of the water and his heavy pants were the only things in your mind as you felt the tight coil in your belly snap.
"Love you, I love you..." he slurred as he, too, reached his end. He came inside of you, pulsing against your insides.
The squeal that you felt bubbling in your throat was quickly swallowed by a hungry kiss from Leon.
He supported himself against the stone, catching his breath before he maneuvered the two of you around so you were straddling him, still nice and full.
"I love you so much, Lee." You hummed, your head resting on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't mind if everyday started like this." He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple when you lazily slapped his arm.
"Mhm, wanna crawl inside your ribcage and live next to your heart.." you mumbled, tuckered out.
He chuckled and gently stroked your back.
"If anyone else said that to me I'd be concerned."
"You put a ring on it." You argued, pulling your hand from the water and holding it up to him.
"Hm, that I did." He hummed, gently taking your hand and kissing your ring.
"And I'd do it all over again."
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I hope you enjoyed <3
(Yes, I'm aware of the bad and weird things that happen between Aphro and Ares, [poor] Hepheastus, man.] Just let me have this okay)
More Leon works --> 💫
《Tag List》: @k-fallingstar @dmitriene @vampkennedy @agrerion
(Lmk if you want to be added to my Leon Tag list!)
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hargreevesseance · 2 months
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loki + finding comfort
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bebx · 1 month
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love the classic damsel in distress trope, but the damsel in question is a pathetic fictional man bleeding out in the dark somewhere on the floor before his ridiculously gorgeous knight comes for his rescue just when he’s about to pass out, and the ridiculously gorgeous knight in question is actually a deranged villain who is his archenemy. but they both have these frustratingly unresolved sexual tension going on where they both hate each other but are also super possessive and protective of each other in the sense that no one else can hurt this little guy but me!!!! and so the knight carries his pathetic damsel in his arms bridal style back to his goth castle where they have hot, kinky gay sex ever after (after he nurses his pathetic enemy’s ass back to health, of course, can’t risk bruising our fragile damsel when he’s already half dead).
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cattoonxd · 8 months
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hi tumblr ive returned with another father child duo to be publicly cringe about
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hitlikehammers · 2 months
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take the call
rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love
for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)
set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️
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Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.
And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.
He gets a message.
“Eddie?”
He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.
“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”
He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.
Maybe, maybe scared.
Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.
“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—
“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:
“She found the phone at a car crash?”
So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.
Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.
“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—
“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—
“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“
Green.
Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—
“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—
He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—
“Where?”
_______________________
Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.
Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.
But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—
Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.
He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—
Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…
Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.
They were—
Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…
He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.
Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—
Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—
And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.
Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.
Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.
Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.
It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.
If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.
So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—
“Eddie?”
He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—
He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.
“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:
“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—
“Are you okay?”
And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…
It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.
Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;
“Am I okay?”
Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—
“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.
“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—
“Are you real?”
Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.
He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.
“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“
“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.
Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.
No one.
Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“
“And you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.
“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.
“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“
Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.
Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.
Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.
“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.
Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?
Eddie also has some fucking questions.
“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.
Steve blinks, frowns a little:
“It got lost in the crash—“
“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—
“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“
And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.
Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.
Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.
And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—
He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.
“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:
“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.
“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:
“They called the studio.”
“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—
“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.
“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:
“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”
And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast
“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“
“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”
Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.
Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.
“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:
“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:
“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.
“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:
“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.
“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.
“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”
Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:
“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”
“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:
It’s the same for me.
And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.
“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”
“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:
“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:
“Not ever.”
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tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson
♥️
divider credit here
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coachbeards · 20 days
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#married.
bonus:
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anqelbean · 2 months
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My favourite flavour of bingqiu smut is probably shen qingqiu feeling neglected because binghe has been busy for SoOo long (usually like a week or two) so he sulks like a neglected concubine
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