[starberrymatcha]

still sleepy, clingy leon

summary : doing your makeup while sitting on leon's lap

notes : really self indulgent tbh

credits to the owner of the divider!

leon was feeling incredibly clingy today and you'd love to indulge him at his antics but sadly, you have work.

as soon as you woke up earlier, leon was trying to get you back to bed while mumbling incoherently and making some grabby hands at you. your boyfriend is so cute to be honest, but you cant miss work today cause you have an important meeting with some heads so with a kiss on his forehead, you immediately went to get ready and made some quick breakfast.

you ate and drank your coffee at the kitchen alone, thinking that leon will probably wake up later but after finishing up, you decided that you'll bring some cup of coffee for him if he wants to spend his morning in the bedroom.

"why are you awake already?". you asked in confusion when you finally went back in your room with a steaming mug of coffee to do your make up and you saw leon getting out of the bathroom.

"cant sleep without you". he grumbled as he scratches his tummy while walking towards you.

you just shook your head in amusement at him while you went to your closet to finally change into some work clothes. just a simple black pencil skirt, paired with some brown silky long sleeve top. then after adjusting everything, you went to your vanity but you found leon sitting on your plush chair.

"baby, go back to sleep". you softly said as you ran a hand through his hair. you know he's still tired considering he actually just got back from a long week mission yesterday night.

a week of being away from each other, only texts and phone calls are keeping you both sane.

leon hummed against your touch before he wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you gently on to his lap. he squeezed you tight causing you to smile and give him a kiss on his head again.

guess youre doing your make up on his lap today.

with that, both of you just let the silence fill the room while you started putting on your makeup and he's just feeling you up and observing you. from time to time, he takes the mug of warm coffee from the table that you brought with you earlier and takes a sip.

the warmth of the coffee and your weight on him makes him sigh in delight, he missed this. it was only a week but he missed this.

"whats that?". he mumbled as he watched you put something thin on your eyelids.

"eyeliner, its a new brand too". you told him as you finished up putting it before closing your eyes and turned your head towards him. "blow, please".

obediently, he carefully blows on your eyes to make the eyeliner dry. he did it for a few more seconds while his thumb on your thigh caressed the skin.

so soft and warm.

you smiled at him when you finally opened your eyes and leon swore he fell in love again. he watched you put down the eyeliner down on the table and you took another small pink bottle with a circle top on it. you opened it gingerly and tapped the applicator lightly on your hand before closing it back up.

leon kissed your shoulder as you spread the blush on your hand with a finger before patting it on your cheeks and blending it while looking through the mirror infront of you. when you blended everything, you figured its time to put some powder on your face before layering it with a powder blush soon.

"looks so beautiful". he hummed as he watches you through the mirror. he loves the way your blush highlights your apple cheeks.

he watched you put more stuffs on your cheeks and dusting it with some small dab of highlighter. you smiled at him through the mirror before your hands rummaged through your pouch of lippies.

"should i put some lip liner on today?". you asked as you glanced down at the pouch and eyed the different colors.

"sure, hun". he honestly dont know whats a lip liner but he's sure its going to go on your lips, your kissable lips.

you beamed and you took a neutral color one before you leaned more forward towards the mirror with leon holding your hips tightly to not let you fall. you spread the liner with a finger along the bows and ends of your lips after putting it on then you picked a lip gloss.

"wanna kiss you". leon said as he watched you glide the lip gloss on your lips before smacking it together.

you laughed softly at him as you closed the product before you moved closer and wrapped your arms around his neck. he looked at you with heavy lidded eyes but the love in it is so present that you cant help but blush a little.

your hand found the hairs on his nape and you played with it softly as you gazed upon his soft eyes too. sleepy and clingy leon is such a sight for you. he's just so cute and lovely.

"pick me up later?". you asked softly.

"of course, hun". he gave you a sleepy smile and you leaned down to press your forehead against his. "i missed you so much".

"i missed you more, baby". you whispered before pressing your glossy lips on his causing him to hum.

[bbuuunnyyy]

being fucked soooo good by jack and your best friend calls and he makes you answer it :(

18+ minors do not interact cw: daddy kink

“shit,” you curse as you look over at the nightstand, seeing that your best friend is calling you right as you start to ride your boyfriend’s cock.

jack stills your hips, looking a little panicked, “what, baby? you okay? it hurt?” you shake your head, quickly leaning over to grab your phone, “no no—let me just send her to voicemail—“

you sit back up, still warming his cock with your phone in hand. jack smirks, fucks his hips a bit up into you, causing you to gasp as he murmurs, “answer it, baby. go ahead.”

you know when he uses that voice there’s no room for argument. wordlessly, you answer, listening to your best friend babble on the other line about her bad date. jack smacks the side of your ass, spurring you on as you slowly start to pick up your pace, grinding your hips back down on his cock, brain feeling so fuzzy.

“you there?—“ she questions on the other line, n you stutter as jack brings his hand forward, playing with your clit. “yeah! yeah! i’m here—he’s a loser, just leave.” you put your hand on jack’s chest, steadying as you bounce on his cock.

fuck, you want to be a supportive friend right now—but the way jack is looking at you, smirking and murmuring lowly, “c’mon baby—you got it. keep ridin’ daddy,” is making you crazy. his hands are squeezing your hips, pulling you down onto him harder n faster, and you finally moan out, “ah, jack—“

your best friend pauses, and you don’t really register it until she starts yelling in your ear. “oh my god! oh my god, is jack there? you know what! i don’t want to know! call me later, freaks! oh my god.”

she hangs up and you giggle with a fucked out smile on your face, throwing your phone on the bed, leaning forward to nuzzle a chuckling jack abbot. “poor thing—she’s gonna think twice before calling now.”

you slap at his chest, “jackie! you’re so mean!”

[sayuni1234]

Zayne: Knead Therapy 🫱🫲

[eternalabbot]

TEXTS…

husband!robby x reader

18+ minors do not interact

warnings: female reader, slight age gap, reader is 30ish

a/n: 2/5 fics for 1k drop! enjoy babies!

[bingowithleon]

sluttiest thing a man can do

[lacyydollette]

₊  ֹ  ˖ GARRETT GRAHAM HATES LEAVING HIS GIRL FOR PRACTICE ᱺㅤㅤ   ୨౿ 

you’re lying on garrett’s bed like a starfish, staring at the ceiling and genuinely questioning your life choices.

school is taking a toll on you and you just can’t stay focused.

this morning, when garrett left for practice, you’d sat at his table and tried to get work done. you did get some work done, but then you thought about him, his pretty curls and his pretty face, and you couldn’t help but get a little lazy thinking about him.

missing him.

that, of course, led to an hour of scrolling on your phone on his bed—aka procrastination.

after a couple more minutes, you hear footsteps and shouts downstairs, indicating that garrett and the guys are back, which explains the craziness and kitchen drawers being opened. they must be famished.

you wait upstairs; better for your boyfriend to get something to eat before you smother him with affection. you seriously miss him today—and as if the devil himself summoned him, you hear footsteps upstairs, toward garrett’s room, and you’re 110% sure it’s him.

the door opens gently as he leaves his stuff on the floor, quickly undressing, eyeing you up with his big grin, per usual.

it’s his trademark look when he sees his girl.

“hey,” you mumble, tossing your phone to the edge of the bed, watching him lose his pants. he’s only in his boxers as he walks around the bedroom, tossing his clothes away.

“hi, pretty,” he mumbles back.

“on a scale from one to ten, how sweaty are you?” you ask, staring at him with heart eyes.

“zero. took a shower already.” he’s already moving toward you, crawling on top of you, leaving kisses on your thighs before moving to your face.

“then c’mere. missed you,” you whisper, gripping his face, running your hands through his curls you adore so much.

“mhm, missed you too,” he says, already kissing you.

the soft glow of the sun outside casts a warm light across your faces as he gently cups your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative press.

the kiss is gentle at first, a simple connection of lips that sends a spark through your entire body. you respond by parting your lips slightly, a silent invitation that he accepts with a soft sigh. his lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, a slow, deliberate exploration that speaks volumes without words.

“hate leaving you for practice,” he murmurs against your mouth.

your hands come to rest on his shoulders, fingers curling into them as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss just slightly. your tongues meet in a gentle dance, tasting each other without urgency. there is nothing frantic about your embrace—just a sweet, unhurried connection that feels both intimate and profound.

when you finally part, your foreheads rest together, both of you breathing softly in the quiet room. he keeps his hand on your cheek, thumb still stroking your skin as he opens his eyes to look at you. a soft smile plays on your lips as you gaze back at him, your eyes shining with emotion.

and lust.

noticing how hot he looks with his slightly damp hair and all those muscles, you just have to push him onto his back, straddling him as you kiss all over his neck.

“did you already eat?”

he laughs breathlessly, hands settling on your hips as he lolls his head to the side, letting you leave hickies.

“not yet. that’s why i’m here,” he says, voice low.

you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a smile tugging at your lips.

yeah he’s about to walk out of this room limping.

[underoospeterparker]

LAZY KISSES WITH GARRETT GRAHAM

1k words, a teensy bit suggestive, 16+

author's note — this is my first time writing for Off Campus, let me know if you'd like to see more <3

"Baby," Garrett practically croons when he sees you, leaning his elbows on the railing of the staircase. "Where've you been?"

You try and fail the urge to let your eyes travel downwards, the trail of hair from his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants, the ridges of muscles very much evident, especially because he isn't wearing a shirt.

"Studying," you reply, in a duh tone of voice, taking the steps one at a time to reach him. He winds his arms around your waist, fingers splaying on the exposed skin of your abdomen, brushing your hip bone.

You melt at the soft touch, and he leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your earlobe. "Do you have no shirts?" You tease quietly, letting out a soft gasp when his kiss grows fervent. "... I should buy you some."

Your boyfriend lets out a little scoff, tugging you closer to his front. "I have enough shirts, honey," he breathes, lips moving up to the underside of your jaw. "C'mon," he coaxes, pulling away much to your chagrin; to you letting out a soft, irritated whine. "Upstairs. Don't you wanna get comfy?"

How can you possibly resist, especially when his hands are on you, and he's using that tone, which begs to be listened to? You let out a little hum of affirmation.

Garrett grins, the corners of his lips tugging up in what looks to be a mix of amusement and pleasure at your easy obedience. "Good girl," he murmurs, fingers slipping off your waist, only to intertwine with your loose ones by your side. "Up," he says in the softest voice possible.

You blink up at him through your lashes. He tilts his head at you, resembling a bit of a golden retriever with those brown eyes fixed on you, solely on you. You're warm under his attention.

"Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to stare, baby?" Garrett says softly, a teasing chide to his words.

It's your turn to let out a scoff now, mirroring his, and his eyebrows soften in appreciation of the soft sound from your lips. "You're my boyfriend, I think I'm allowed to admire you."

His grin widens. "Oh, is that what you're doing? Admiring me?"

"Mhm."

"Huh," Garrett murmurs, lifting his free hand to cup your cheek, watching the way you melt in real time with adoring eyes. "When did you get so smooth?"

You smile prettily up at him, your best smile, and his breath catches in his throat. "Learned from the best."

"Did you?" he brushes your cheek with a calloused thumb, so gentle it makes something in your heart splinter and crack in two.

"Come on, sweetheart," he gentles his voice even further, giving your cheek a gentle pat. "Let's take a nap. You look exhausted."

You frown up at him, lips jutting out in a pout. "That's so mean, do I not look pretty?"

Garrett curls his arms around you, picking you up with an ease that still surprises you. Your legs naturally wind around his waist, head lolling forward to find rest on his shoulder. "You always look pretty, baby," he hums, kissing the side of your head. "My gorgeous girl, hm?"

Letting out a pleased sound of acknowledgement, you let Garrett climb the rest of the stairs and make his way down the hallway. You pass Dean's room on the way, and the door is wide open.

You don't bother lifting your head from Garrett's shoulder, you're already sure what's going on in there. Your boyfriend wrinkles his nose above you. "Dean, how many fucking times! Close the door, yeah?"

Dean lets out a sound to the affirmative, but makes no move to get up from where he's got a pretty girl perched on top of him.

Garrett pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an annoyed sigh, shifting you on his hip to close the door with one hand. "Idiot," he mutters under his breath. He hitches you higher against his chest, and you go willingly, boneless and warm under his affections.

The floorboards creak under Garrett's weight as he moves to cover the distance from Dean's room to his. "Tired, sweetheart?" He asks, voice soft again, a low rumble to the timbre of his words.

"No," you mumble against his neck, pressing your nose against the space between his jaw and shoulder.

He lets out a laugh, opening his door with his foot, shifting you in his arms a little so he can flop onto his bed, back against the headrest, with you in his lap. "You're lying."

"Am not."

"Are too," he grins, watching you peer up at him with half-lidded, obviously sleepy eyes. "You're barely awake, pretty."

You let out an annoyed whine, hands finding home on his chest. "I'm awake, thank you very much. And I want a kiss."

Garrett's smile widens. "Do you now?"

"Don't be a jerk," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. "I'm allowed to ask for a kiss."

"You are," he hums, tugging you closer, one big hand lifting from your waist for your neck, brushing idly at the tender skin of your jaw. "You do have to say please, though, honey. Manners."

Groaning frustratedly, you add, "please can I have kiss?"

Your boyfriend smiles, thumbing at your cheekbone. "You can, baby," he murmurs, leaning down to meet you halfway. Your hand slides up to the nape of his neck, thumbing at the baby hairs there, and he sighs against your mouth, deepening the kiss.

It's lazy, the kind of kiss that isn't going anywhere, and doesn't need to, either. His tongue brushes your lower lip, seeking entry, and you open for him. He tastes like mint, the gum he's always chewing.

"Garrett," you breathe when he pulls away for a second to get air.

"Shh." His lips trail to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the soft spot below your ear. "Just relax, sweetheart."

So you do.

[scrmqwn]

cannot stop thinking about pope cody with his three teenage boys (who, yes, are just a variation of andrew, craig & deran) who back talk their mom (you) one time and if goes a little something like this:

"jesus fucking christ, the laundry isn't going to explode if i don't do it right now, god damn, mom." your middle chirps.

"she's on one, today." your oldest shakes his head.

"did that shit last week anyways, it's fine." your youngest flops on the couch and grabs the controller from his brother, before they start arguing amongst themselves.

you can barely blink before pope is storming in the house and upstairs to their rooms (yes those are bedrooms that pope, craig & deran used to sleep in when they lived with smurf), ripping every electronic device out of the wall, tossing them down the stairs.

stomping back down the stairs he stops in the living room and yanks that console from below the tv.

"let's get something crystal fuckin' clear, you three will not disrespect your mom—my wife—in my house. do you understand me? get your school shit and go to your rooms, now." pope is raising his voice as the boys stare at him stupidly.

those gaming consoles are being tossed in the pool and/or being smashed w his fucking sledge hammer btw, and pope is about to spend the rest of the evening catering to you as an apology because he cannot believe his boys believed for one second they could speak to their mom that way.

[monseille]

You get too distracted with Garrett Graham’s chain while he’s fucking you ⋆ mdni, female reader, unprotected sex, teasing.

─────

The room was humid and hot, too hot, and the air smelled faintly of sex, sweat and his cologne. His room was dark, except for the low golden light coming from the single lamp on his nightstand. 

A calloused hand traveled around your body until it settled on the flesh of your hip, lifting it slightly so he could sink himself deeper into your warmth. 

“Fuck, Garrett—” you gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your manicured nails dug into the muscles of his back, right over his tattoo. 

He smirked. “Yeah?” 

Damn him. 

His face hovered above yours, dark curls damp with sweat falling across his forehead. That lazy smile played on his mouth as he watched you fall apart, purely from the slow roll of his hips, the burn and the stretch of his cock sliding easily in and out of your pussy, again and again. 

And if that wasn’t enough, the thin, golden chain dangling between you, swinging with every thrust while catching the lamplight, made your stomach curl. Now, you couldn’t stop staring at it, the way it moved back and forth, brushing against your breasts each time he sank deep. 

“Baby,” he rasped, voice laced with amusement. “You’re gettin’ fuckin’ distracted again.” 

Your mouth opened to answer, but the words died in your throat as Garrett punctuated them with a cruel roll of hips, dragging the thick, leaking head of his cock along that spongy spot inside you. Immediately, your back arched, and anything you were about to say gets replaced by an embarrassingly loud moan. 

“I—I’m not,” you breathed out, eyes still glued to the swinging chain. 

“Yeah? you sure?” Garrett laughed, low and dangerous in that way that made you dizzy. He dipped lower, close enough for you to feel the three day stubble on his defined jaw scratch your cheek, close enough for the cool metal of the chain to brush against your nipple. Your breath hitched. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” He drawled against your earlobe.

You tried to answer. You really did. But what came out was barely a word, and more like… a strangled noise, and the fact that his cock was throbbing right inside you, coated with your arousal, stuffing you full with every thrust, letting you feel every ridge and vein along his length. Fuck, it didn’t help at all. 

And he noticed it, of course.

“Shit, don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid.” 

“Jesus, shut up,” you choked out, tightening your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he was.

“Oh, so she talks.” The hand on your hip suddenly disappeared, sliding south, lower, and lower. All while that annoying smirk never seemed to leave his face. 

“Don’t—” A borderline pornographic moan tore from your lips as the rough pad of Garrett’s thumb drew lazy, effortless circles on your swollen clit. “Don’t— get so cocky.” 

“Me? Baby—” 

But before he could finish another arrogant remark, your trembling fingers reached up to wrap around the cool, golden chain. Desperate, you tugged hard on it, pulling him down until his chapped lips met yours. His hips faltered for a split second, and a groan rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back. The kiss was raw, messy, and intense. The back of his neck burned from the pressure of the chain, your grip was something, and he was sure it would leave a mark. 

A deep, sore, red line that he’d make you kiss better later in the shower, because he was definitely nowhere near done with you. 

[folkloure]

⭑.ᐟ tender loving care

john logan x reader

summary: reader gets a minor head injury when logan is not around and everyone jumps to help. core characters mentioned but mostly dean and allie. short fic, genuinely not as dramatic as the summary makes it sound like lol. requested!

Logan’s phone won’t stop buzzing on his backpocket as he’s elbows deep in Professor Walsh’s car engine. He grabs the rag over his shoulder and does his best in cleaning the oil from his fingers before fishing the phone out of his pocket, only to find a bunch of texts from Dean.

dean: before you say anything dean: it was an accident okay dean: and she really really wanted to play with us :(

That, followed by a picture of you laying down on their couch, ice pack over your forehead, is enough to make Logan mumble a stream of apologies to Professor Walsh, something akin to “sosorryigottagoseemygirlfriend” and a promise of checking his engine another day as he literally runs back home. 

He finds you in that very same resting place, except your head is on Allie’s lap while she holds the ice pack for you. Dean, who’s bandaging your ankle on the end of the couch, immediately stands up and walks over to Logan’s direction,

“Dude, I swear to god that it was an accident.”

Logan takes a look at you over Dean’s shoulder, “What the fuck happened?”

“Me and Garrett were playing soccer when she got here looking for you.” Dean starts talking, “Then she asked us if she could join and I obliged, of course, ‘cause– Well, I wouldn’t I? Can you imagine how misogynistic that sounds if–”

“Dean, get to the fucking point!”

“Right, sorry– She tripped on my foot while we were playing and hit her head. It wasn’t too bad, I managed to catch her. But–” Dean motions his head to you, awake and murmuring something to Allie neither the boys can hear. 

Logan moves in your direction, kneeling by the couch, “Hey, honey. How you feeling?”

You can’t see him, ice pack covering your eyes as well as your forehead. Still, your lips quiver up when you listen to his voice, “I’m good. They’re all being dramatic.”

He looks up at Allie, gesturing for him to take her place on the couch. Allie carefully holds your head as she moves from under you, letting his hands hold you instead before she let go. You lay your head on Logan’s thigh, nuzzling as he presses a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. There’s a small cut on your chin, covered by a pink band-aid. His hands move to your cheek, drawing circles as he caresses your face, “You hurt your chin?”

You hum, and Allie speaks up, “Her arms are a bit scratched too. But we already cleaned them, and Garrett is on his way to the rink with Hannah. He said you guys keep a full first aid kit in the locker room.”

Logan hums, “Did you eat anything?” he murmurs to you. 

“Tucker made me a smoothie.” You answer, then your hand moves to remove the ice pack. Logan sees a purple-tinted bump on your forehead, but your eyes are shiny and smiling, “Baby, I’m fine. Really. Don’t get too worried, handsome. Hannah and Allie patched me up, and Dean said he’s sorry a thousand times already.”

Your boyfriend looks up, watching Dean’s apologetic face turn into a pout. Logan rolls his eyes at him, a tiny smile on his lips as he feels disarmed. He’s a little ashamed now, being so ready to pick an argument with his friends a second ago for letting you get hurt, yet there you are, laying all pretty on his lap, tended and smiling as Logan’s heartstrings pull a little.

He gives you a grin, “Do you want paracetamol or something?”

Dean raises his hand and gives his most prideful look, “Already had her take one, boss.”

“Alright. You’re good, man.” Logan says before adjusting your ice pack back to its place, pressing a quick peck on your cheek, “And you keep icing your head, there’s a bump right under your hairline. Allie, take my place?”

You stir, “I can lay on the couch just fine by myself.”

“No, no. We’re keeping someone by your side for the next twenty four hours.” Allie says, already taking Logan’s seat, “We gotta make sure you don’t have a concussion and choke on your own vomit.”

“Geez,” you sneer, “So dramatic.”

He stands from the couch, moving in Dean’s direction, “And you are helping me make dinner,” he drops his arms over his friend’s shoulder, muttering, “Thanks for helping take care of her.”

Dean beams at his friend, “That was nothing. The least I could do for almost killing her, really.” He jokes, squeezing Logan’s shoulder, “She’s all yours now, dude. And I’d say a little TLC is much needed.”

He looks back at you, giggling with Allie on the couch, “I think she’s in good hands.”

“I meant for you.” Dean says, “I know you love when you get to fuss over her, you softie.”

“Well, yeah. Like you said,” Logan shrugs, “Who am I to deny some tender loving care over my oh so hurt and in need of care girlfriend?”

“I can hear that,” you shout from the couch.

“And I don’t hear you complaining, babe.”

notes: thank you for reading! requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3

john logan masterlist

[byallmeans1]

[zaynezone]

"Don't cum yet."

You repeat Zayne's words like a mantra in your head, doing everything you can to hold off your orgasm as he fucks you. Every muscle in your body is tense, the pleasure crawling up your spine. You want it so bad, so bad that tears sting your eyes.

Fuck it. You'll beg forgiveness later.

But the second you stop holding back, ready to let your orgasm hit you, he pulls out.

"Zayne!" You gasp in shock. He's panting above you, chiseled body covered in a sheen of sweat that makes your mouth water.

"I told you to hold it." He reprimands quietly. You pout, orgasm ebbing away. Great. Now you'll get a punishment and you didn't even get to cum.

"But Zayne I-I didn't cum! Please p-put it back in, I'll be good I promise!" Your pleas fall on deaf ears, though he takes a moment to tenderly wipe the tears from your face, kissing you softly before sitting back up.

"You enjoy your punishments too much." Zayne notes, maneuvering your legs so they're pressed together, setting both of your ankles on one of his shoulders.

His cock, still slick, slowly pushes in between your thighs, just above your aching pussy. He gasps in pleasure at the sensation, while your jaw drops in shock.

It doesn't take long for him to cum, already so worked up from earlier. Most of it lands on your stomach, the sensation making you whimper once more.

"Zayne..." You whisper, nearly trembling with how bad you need it. He hums, leaning down to kiss you as he parts your legs, deft fingers finding your clit.

"I believe it's time for your reward."

[i9chicago]

okay so i'm definitely writing for off campus rn... stay tuned

[reginasphalanges]

Clueless (1995) dir. Amy Heckerling

[connorwyndham]

OFF CAMPUS (2026–present) S01E03 | The Orgasm

[gtgbabie0]

💭 thinking about waking up next to re9!Leon who’s a little needy ᝰ.ᐟ 18+ it’s gets a little slutty at the end my bad

The bedroom is cool, quiet, save for your soft breaths and the faint chittering of birds outside— it’s peaceful, and Leon, being the first to wake as always, lies there to simply bask in it. He’s pressed right up behind you, one arm tucked under your pillow and the other draped around your waist, his hand tucked under your sleep-shirt because this man lives for skin-on-skin contact.

He’s so in-tune with your body, he could feel you start to wake even before those eyes of yours begin to flutter open, and he takes that as an invitation to snuggle in closer, pressing a smiley-kiss to your shoulder as you begin to stir.

“There she is… sleeping beauty,” He hums affectionately from behind you, his voice all rough with sleep, chest rumbling against your back, dragging you to the land of the living.

“Mfm… s’too early,” your sleepy murmur gets a chuckle from him, the sound muffled into your skin.

“It’s almost twelve pm, baby.”

You whine in disagreement, “But it’s a Sunday and we’ve got nothing to do.”

He shushes you, hand slides from under your shirt to caress the curve of your hip soothingly as his mouth moves across your shoulder carefully in feather-light pecks.

“M’not saying you gotta get up yet, baby. Come on, turn around, let me see you.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you shuffle, turning around to look up at him— all sleep soft and warm, the early-afternoon sun catching in your eyes. He reaches his hand out, his fingertips grazing across your face, pushing your tussled hair back so he can get a good, long look at you, and he smiles, rare and private, only for your eyes.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he whispers quietly, leaning in to brush a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You hum, curling your arms around his broad shoulders to keep him close as he peppers open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw, his nose bumping against your cheek. “Good morning, handsome,” you reply lazily, his stubble tickling your soft skin, purposely rubbing the rough hairs against the side of your face just to hear you laugh.

“Thought you were gonna go to the gym today?” you ask almost teasingly, slipping your fingers through his hair.

He groans into your neck at the reminder, his body melting in your arms, seeking your warmth out like a sunbathing cat, “That was the plan, yeah… then I woke up, and you were all soft and warm, clinging to me nd’I couldn’t leave you like that.”

It’s almost the exact same excuse he had used yesterday, but you weren’t going to complain, not when he’s all over you and pinning you against the soft mattress, bare-chested and spoiling you with kisses.

“Unless you want me to leave, hmm?— scared I’ll let myself go, baby?” He chuckles, running his knuckles along your cheek as your hands run down his chest, fingers catching the coarse hairs that pepper his skin.

“You’re ridiculous. Obviously, I want you here.” You murmur, tilting your head to kiss him properly, deeply, his lips slotting against yours perfectly.

“Oh, obviously, is it? ” he echoes smugly, grinning against your mouth as he pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, “This is better than lifting weights anyway,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck and over the swell of your breasts— your breath catching at the feeling.

“Well, that’s not much of a competition.”

Your fingers run through his hair and he makes a low gravelly noise, leaning into your hands. “You’re right, it’s not even close— god you’re so fucking warm.” He sighs, looking up at you through his lashes with a faint grin, blue eyes glinting—he was definitely scheming.

“Gonna let me love on you a little before we get up, yeah?” He smiles against your sternum, his voice all tender yet rough with want because god you look and feel amazing like this. “Make you come on my tongue first, then fuck you, nice and slow— make breakfast after?”

“Mm, Jesus… Leon…” his name falls from your lips, broken and whiny, desperate, and he coos in response, a hushed ‘I know baby’ before capturing your nipple into his wet mouth— his tongue flicking over the hardened peak as his hand cups your other boob.

He shifts against you, slotting himself snug between your legs. You wrap your thighs around him, a whimper catching in your throat when he grinds his hard-on against your clothed pussy, arching into him for more, wetness already collecting in your panties.

“I’ll handle it… you just relax f’me, baby.” He promises, kissing his way down your tummy whilst his fingers pinch at your nipples— his free hand tugging your panties down.

Lazy Sundays were the closest thing to heaven.

જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

[i9chicago]

girl

[leonslifealert]

Hi, i'd like to request Re9 Leon x wife reader. He has a huge portrait picture of his wife on his office wall at the DSO and whenever he gets the chance he boasts and brags about her.

this is such a cute idea! i hope i did it justice.

f!reader x RE9!leon "that's my wife" kennedy tags: all fluff, no warnings

It was the talk of the office.

“Would you have guessed Kennedy’s into art?”

“What? The portrait?”

“Yeah, on his wall. It's gorgeous.”

“Is it a picture or a painting?”

“Hard to tell. But it’s the only thing in there. Must mean something.”

Whether in meetings or when the occasional agent ran files in and out, it was impossible to miss.

You're sat by the window, one leg tucked between you and the reading nook beneath, the other touching the floor on tiptoe. Your chin rests in your hand, your face angled into the sunlight, breathing in the fresh air filtering through the open glass pane. A moment of unabashed freedom, blind to anything else around you.

Leon didn’t take pictures. You’d teased him for it, running through his phone and nearly gasping at its lack of personal effects despite years of ownership.

But you, sitting on that ledge… He’d taken it on your first vacation together, the first morning you’d woken up to the sounds of the small Mediterranean city stirring around you. He didn’t even think, just snapped, and lo and behold, his favorite portrait; the one he returned to while slumped in dark corridors in concrete hellscapes, when his body threatened to give in to the unspeakable horrors he faced.

He never told you he had it printed. He was conflicted at first, bringing you into this space that caused him so much turmoil, that kept you apart more often than not. But the wall had been empty, and he pictured you there whenever he looked up anyway.

Finally, it's a rookie with the courage to ask.

“So, Kennedy, I’ve been curious every time I come in here.”

She points and he follows, a rare smile appearing on his lips as it does anytime you’re the subject of conversation.

“My wife,” he murmurs, matter-of-fact.

The rookie pauses.

“S-sorry?”

Then she catches herself, hands rising in front of her. “I mean—I didn’t know you were married.”

Leon simply hums his acknowledgment, eyes still fixed on the portrait, unbearably, uncharacteristically soft.

“Wouldn’t be here without her.”

Word travels fast, especially at the blip of personal information from the agent normally as open to sharing his private life as a brick wall. Naturally, everyone begins asking. And Leon is suddenly an open book—he can’t help himself.

“She’s crazy. Speaks 4 languages, works in the private sector. Volunteers with kids on weekends. Schedule’s almost as nuts as mine.”

An affectionate laugh at that one—had anyone heard him laugh before?

“She’s got this cackle she does when I catch her off guard. Cracks me up.”

“She works a room like nobody’s business. Intimidating as all hell.”

“You should see her with her plants. She doesn’t let me touch ‘em. There’s this one, a ‘fiddle' something? Supposed to be impossible to care for, but she’s had it going strong for 6 years.”

Like a dam suddenly broken, they never hear the end of it.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

He’s in a meeting when you arrive, a rare break in your schedule allowing you to surprise him for lunch. You rolled the dice on if he would be able to take the time, but you knew somehow, some way, he would try to make it.

What you didn't expect was being led down the fluorescently lit hallway to feel oddly like walking a runway: heads suddenly whipping to you, eyes wide, hushed whispers trailing in your wake. You glance down at your clothes. No spilled coffee, no dirt, no remnants of your rushed breakfast this morning. Perfectly spotless. Strange.

Someone glances at you just above the divider of their cubicle and you raise your brows, lips pursing in a can I help you expression that has them sinking behind it when they realize you’ve noticed.

It’s fate that his meeting lets out just as you reach his door, and the gaggle of younger agents nearly colliding with you as they exit freezes. They give you a once over—seriously, what is that—and look behind them to an unseen corner of the office. When they turn back to you, mouths parted and brows high in what’s unmistakably realization, they’re smiling, stealing glances at each other as they excuse themselves. You watch them, confusion and amusement written in your creased brow, and one of them giggles as they hurry away.

“Hey, you.”

The familiar timbre of his voice draws you back, and you grin as you take him in where he leans in the doorway, happy surprise tugging at the corners of his lips.

You lift the takeout bags in each hand, giving them a small shake. “I got off the case early. Brought us lunch.”

A half grin and he's pushing the door further open. “Perfect timing. I’ve got some time before my next briefing.”

When you pass through, he stops you with a hand on your waist to plant a kiss on your lips. You hum, smiling into the space where he pulls back just enough for your noses to touch, then pull away and retreat further into the office.

“I snagged that rice dish you like, the one that’s usually sold out? Sushi fo—“

The bags nearly slip through your slackening grip.

You’d seen the picture once on his phone, caught him admiring it way back when. Truly, you couldn’t believe he took it. He’d told you how beautiful you looked; you’d deferred, insisting pictures weren't your thing.

Now, here… you could see it.

Your head whips to him, to where he’s watching you, features gentle, eyes moving from you to the portrait and back.

“Had to put it somewhere else in case my phone takes a shit.”

“Leon,” you hesitate, and your gaze travels back to the portrait, mouth opening and closing helplessly.

You knew he loved you. Never once doubted it. But he was private and always had been. Cracking him in the early days of your relationship had felt akin to scraping stone with a razor, slowly wearing away until you’d reached the precious gem beneath.

But you? He wanted to show this part of his life. To shout it from the rooftops, if he could. And so this was, in his own way.

You can’t help the prickling at the corners of your eyes when you look back at him, and he shrugs, nonchalant, coming up behind you to press a kiss to the delicate pulse point at your throat, stubble brushing where his chin comes to rest.

“So, lunch?”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

A knock sounds at the door and Leon rises from where he sits next to you on his desk.

“Kennedy? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Can it wait a few minutes?"

He glances back at you, eyes dancing, then opens the door further. “The wife and I are just finishing lunch.”

You peek around Leon from your place in his chair, offering a friendly nod. “Nice to meet you.”

The other agent returns it, slightly dumbstruck, his lips pulling into a knowing smile.

“Likewise, Mrs. Kennedy. I’ve heard all about you.

dividers @/cafekitsune ♡