#hm.... sof

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I feel like Erik might like rats specifically bc most people think they’re gross/creepy and he could go on monologues about how they are so misunderstood etc like the dramatic bitch he is. Also I like the visual of a rat sitting on his shoulder or his helmet.

is this the time to make a shark joke because if we're talking about misunderstood animals i can knock two birds with one stone

[rafecameronssl4t]

Misunderstandings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Sofia knew what she was doing when mentioning Rafe to you, and she also knew what she was doing when she told you that he never mentioned you, his girlfriend.

Warnings: swearing, fluff at the end, angst

Word count: 873

A/n: kinda really don’t like Sofia 😄

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Hey, what can I get you?” asks a smiling girl you don’t recognize. She approaches the three of you as you and your close friends settle into the bar stools at the country club, ready to enjoy lunch and catch up. It’s been two weeks since you returned from visiting family overseas, and this gathering feels long overdue.

“Just the usual, please, Sofia,” your friends Kaycee and Jada say with a smile to the brunette server. Her natural beauty was almost unfair. “Coming right up. And for you?” she asks, turning to you. “Oh, uh, the same as them, please,” you respond.

She nods with a soft smile before turning around to start on your drinks. “Is she new?” you inquire, gesturing subtly towards Sofia as your friends glance over at her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. She started just when you left,” Kaycee responds, her attention shifting back to the menu. You nod slowly in acknowledgment, taking in the information before refocusing your attention on the conversation.

“Is Rafe joining us?” Kaycee inquires, her tone laced with curiosity as she turns her gaze towards you. Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sofia interjects with unexpected enthusiasm, her eyes lighting up. “Rafe’s coming?” Her bubbly expression catches you off guard, and you exchange surprised glances with your friends, wondering why she’s so ecstatic about your boyfriend’s arrival.

There’s a brief moment of silence as you all process Sofia’s reaction, the atmosphere around the table becoming slightly more charged with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Sofia’s excitement than meets the eye, but before you can dwell on it further, Jada interjects.

“Rafe is—” Before she can finish her sentence, you quickly kick her lightly on the shin to shut her up. “Yeah, he is. You know Rafe?” you smoothly interject, trying to keep your relationship with Rafe a secret for now.

You watch Sofia closely, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. To your surprise, she responds with a wide smile, her dimples on full display.

“Yeah. Yeah— he’s pretty cute. Great company too when I’m closing up,” Sofia remarks casually, her tone tinged with a hint of admiration. You raise an eyebrow at her words, sensing a shift in the conversation.

“Really?” you inquire, trying to conceal your surprise. Sofia chuckles softly as she dries a few cups, her movements graceful and effortless. “Yeah, you’d think he has a girlfriend, right? With all that charm he has,” she muses, a small sigh escaping her lips.

You exchange a quick glance with Jada and Kaycee, both of them wearing wide-eyed expressions that mirror your own astonishment.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks from Jada and Kaycee and the unsettling feeling creeping up from your stomach, you clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure. “I for sure thought that he had a girlfriend,” you say, feigning innocence as you try to mask the rising anger within you.

Sofia shakes her head, her demeanor casual as she continues drying the cups. “Nope. He never mentioned he had one,” she replies, her tone nonchalant.

You roll your tongue against your cheek as you lean back, a wave of frustration nearly bubbling over. Despite your efforts to keep calm, the revelation leaves you feeling betrayed and unsure of what to make of Rafe’s silence about his relationship status.

Your phone suddenly pings, breaking the tension, and you glance down at it, noticing a text from Rafe saying he’s on his way. “That’s really interesting. Thanks for letting me know, Sof,” you say with forced politeness, though your lips purse together and you cross your arms, staring down at your feet, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Letting you know what?” Sofia innocently chuckles, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind. Without answering her, you and your friends silently agree to move to another table to have your meals, needing some distance from the uncomfortable conversation.

“What the fuck,” Jada whispers angrily as you walk away from the bar, her frustration palpable. “How does she not know you’re Rafe’s girlfriend? Everyone on this damn island knows it,” Kaycee adds, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As you find a new table, the weight of Sofia’s obliviousness hangs heavy in the air, leaving you to wonder how Rafe could have kept such a significant detail about your relationship hidden from someone you thought was just a casual acquaintance.

You scoff, the frustration and anger boiling over as you aggressively put your purse on the table. “Obviously not her, because Rafe made her believe that he was fucking single. What a fucking dick,” you huff, the bitterness evident in your voice.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You thought you could trust Rafe, especially after being with him for years now and never bumping into an issue like this. You would have never thought he’d do something like this, keeping such a significant detail about your relationship hidden and potentially leading someone else on.m, especially with how protective he is of you outside.

Fifteen minutes later, you notice Jada and Kaycee awkwardly looking at something behind you, and you can sense that it’s Rafe approaching. You feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, and he leans down to kiss your cheek, but you keep your gaze fixed elsewhere, unimpressed by his display of affection.

The tension in the air is palpable as you struggle to maintain composure, feeling a mixture of resentment and disappointment toward Rafe for his recent actions.

“Hey,” Rafe says to you, but you remain quiet, refusing to engage with him. “Ladies,” he greets your friends with a forced smile as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Hi,” they both respond awkwardly, exchanging glances. The next few seconds are filled with tense silence as Rafe attempts to decipher your mood.

“Uh, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom,” Jada announces suddenly, her voice strained as she gets up, pulling Kaycee along with her. Rafe lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he watches them leave. The lingering tension between you and him hangs heavy in the air, leaving both of you at a loss for words.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Rafe asks, his voice laced with concern as he places his large hand on your thigh. But you quickly remove it, unable to bear his touch.

You can feel the hurt in his expression as he recoils slightly, his hand dropping to his side. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite his attempt to reach out, you remain distant, the sense of betrayal and disappointment still raw within you.

“Do you know Sofia?” you finally speak up, breaking the tense silence. “Who? Oh— yeah. Sof. What about her?” Rafe responds, his confusion evident. You let out a scoff at the nickname, unable to hide your annoyance. “How come she doesn’t know you have a girlfriend?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow at your word, shrugging, “How would I fuckin’ know—““Oh, I don’t know, Rafe, maybe because you’re the one that made her believe that,” you interject sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to feign innocence. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the tension between you escalating with each passing moment.

“Don’t give me that fucking attitude,” Rafe snaps angrily, his frustration evident. “You’re so full of shit, Rafe. You purposely left out the fact that you had a girlfriend so you could get into her pants!” you retort, your voice rising ever so slightly with indignation. He hushes you, casting a quick glance around the room before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the table.

Sofia’s wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed as she looks at the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, her curiosity evident as Rafe leads you outside.

“Let go of me,” you demand, pushing Rafe’s hands away from you as you stand your ground, creating distance between the two of you. The intensity of your emotions swirls within you, a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal driving your actions.

“Look, I dunno what the fuck she said to you, but it’s not what it seems.” Your lips part in shock at his words. “Then go ahead, Rafe! Tell me!” you demand, throwing your arms up in exasperation. One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose while the other rests on his hip, a sign of his growing frustration.

“Okay, okay, what—what’d she tell you?” His tone begins to calm down slightly. “She said you kept her company and never mentioned having a girlfriend—” Rafe cuts in sharply, “—she never asked—” “Shut the fuck up while I’m talking!” you retort, your voice laced with irritation at his interruption.

Your grip tightens on your handbag, your knuckles turning white as Rafe throws his head back in frustration, his eyes closing briefly as if trying to collect his thoughts. “She was new on the island and had no one. I was only talking about the places that she could visit around the island- that’s it- I swear.”

“What?” you snap, your eyes locking with Rafe’s as he stares at you intensely. “My phone was literally right under her nose, Y/N. She would’ve seen my lock screen of you,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration is evident, but so is yours, each of you standing firm in your stance.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I thought I made it quite clear that I had a missus when I literally picked up your call in front of her on Saturday night.” Your eyes soften at his words. You remember the call vividly: the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations in the background when he mentioned he was at the country club.

You can still hear his voice, calm and steady, as he reassured you of his whereabouts. The memory tugs at your heart, causing a flicker of doubt about your initial assumptions. You begin to question whether you might have misunderstood the situation, your anger wavering as you process his explanation.

You let out a shaky breath, crossing your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just—the way Sofia made it out to be, you never mentioned me,” you quietly admit, your eyes fixed on your Hermès sandals. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension, until suddenly you feel his arms enveloping you in a hug.

His embrace is warm and reassuring, melting away some of the lingering doubt and frustration. It’s a silent acknowledgment of your feelings, a wordless apology for any misunderstanding. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into his embrace.

“Babe, ‘s fine, should’ve known she was a jealous little thing,” Rafe murmurs, his lips brushing against the crown of your head as he sighs. With the side of your face pressed against Rafe’s firm chest, your senses are filled with nothing but him. His heartbeat reverberates against your cheek, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the present moment.

NEXT PART

[littlelamy]

◜﹒﹟homework distraction﹒drew starkey﹑﹑📚﹗

"you’re doing this now?" your voice was in a hush tone, breath catching when his teeth nip lightly at your shoulder. your focus—half charged laptop, open textbook pressing indentations into your skin while screen was filled with paragraphs and footnotes—was distracted by the blonde haired boy.

"you’re doing this now," he throws back, "during summer .. after you graduated. what the fuck, babe." he slings his arm over waist, pressing his shirtless back closer to you.

your laugh comes out in a breathy huff as his hand skims under your tank top. "i needed the credits to qualify for the certification program."

"bullshit .. you needed to stress yourself out so you'd have an excuse to ignore me in bed." he noses at your neck adding a couple licks. "look at you .. tits all pushed up in this little tank .. and you think i’m just gonna lie here and let you study?"

"i hoped so yes," you say, even as your thighs shift together.

"annnd wrong."

he pulls you, rolls you, so you are on your back and he’s hovering over; a pure sight to see with his messy hair and eyes flicking from your mouth to your tits and back again like he can’t decide which he wants first. your laptop tips off the bed with a soft thud. thankfully, you have an indestructible case. the textbook was also cast aside, making creaking noises, showing how old it is.

"andrew," you arch a brow. "are you fucking serious right now?"

"dead fucking serious."

his mouth drops to your chest, tongue flicking across the edge of your neckline, and you can feel the heat of him between your legs already. you're not wearing a bra. like of course you’re not. your nipples are already tightening, soft fabric dragging over them as he mouths and sucks through the cotton, wetting it completely.

"drew—i have a paper due tonight."

he pulls back just enough to look at you and smirk. "then i guess you better focus real hard while i’m fucking you."

you try to roll away, but his body is heavier and way broader; just his hips pressing yours, his lips brushing down your sternum, open-mouthed kisses that grow wetter by the second. you can feel his breath through the soaked patch over your nipple before he finally mouths around it and sucks.

"shit—" your head falls back against the pillow.

"what was that?"

"nothing .. keep going."

he huffs against your tit, grinning like a smug bastard. "hm thought you had homework."

"i do .. and you’re making it impossible to concentrate."

"good." he drags the tank up, bunches it under your armpits, leaves your tits bare; his tongue draws slow lazy circles around one areola, then the other, studying the mound carefully. your lips part open by the time he blows a stream of air across the wet skin, back arching right off the bed.

"mhm, drew—"

"what’s that?" he taunts with a pearly white smile. "what did i tell you about doing summer courses, huh? wasting time you could be spending like this. underneath me. letting me make you forget every useless lecture you sat through."

"they're not useless," you breathe, but it’s shaky, and your thighs are squeezing around his waist now, pulling him closer without thought.

"your nipples say otherwise."

you swat him half-heartedly, but he catches your wrist, pins it beside your head, and kisses you fully on the mouth .. tongue licking past your lips with an intimacy that drowns out every anxious thought. you can't even explain the familiar taste of his mouth as it fills your own mouth.

he shifts, and his knee presses between your legs, nudging them open while he continues to kiss you harder, growling into your mouth when your hips roll up against his thigh. you curse into the kiss, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other still pinned. he breaks for air, breath ragged. "you feel that? soaking me already. and you’re gonna sit there and tell me that you really want to study right now?"

"yes," you lie, "after."

he slides down your body, kisses your stomach, your hipbones. you jerk when he nips the soft flesh just above your waistband. "i don't believe you."

"too bad."

he tugs your pj shorts off, dragging your panties with them. he doesn’t look away as your cunt’s bared to the warm air—wet, shiny with parted lips.

"jesus christ," he mutters, still in awe "so this what reading textbooks does to you?"

you roll your eyes at words. "no .. this is what you do to me, asshole."

he grins, and then his mouth is right back on you. "nggh—drew—" he groans against your pussy, giving it little kisses and praises the softness. after the prasises are done, he wraps his lips around your bud and sucks on it like he wants to drink the stress out of you. your thighs clamp around his head, probably suffocating him. but he doesn't stop. he eats you rhythmically, thick fingers teasing at your entrance over and over again.

you claw at the sheets, chanting his name and profanties. "fuckfuckfuck—you’re such a—fucking distraction—"

he chuckles, muffled by your cunt. "good distractions are rare .. cherish me."

his finger pushes in, causing you gasp and throw your head back, spine arched. "oh God—yes—right there—"

"you close already? jesus, baby."

you nod frantically, eyes glossing over at the pleasurable sensation. "don’t stop. please—" he speeds up .. another finger joins the first, pumping into you as his mouth seals tight over your clit, tongue flicking in sync with every thrust.

your orgasm hits you very hard, shuddering violently; body going stiff and then melts all at once, a silent cry ushering drew to kiss it all better, "fuck .. you taste good but stressed."

"shut up." you struggle to get out, trying to catch your breath. he crawls back up your body, trails kisses between your tits, licks sweat off your collarbone.

"say it," he whispers, brushing his cock against your now puffy folds.

"say what?" you blink, high off the recent release.

"that you shouldn’t have taken summer classes."

you glare at him. "you’re insufferable."

"say it."

you hesitate, then arch up against him giving him more access to you. "fine .. i shouldn’t have taken summer classes."

"good girl," and he sinks right into you.

❤︎‬ tags below

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[toorusluvr]

... 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

characters: sylus (love and deepspace) x f!reader

content warnings: vaginal penetration sex + p in v + cowgirl position + mirror sex + sylus being cocky and sarcastic + kneeling sex + missionary sex + unprotected sex + not proofread lol i'm sorry this was written on a whim

notes from nis: my first ever sylus smut lol he has been on my mind ever since the first day he was announced! he has no business being this hot! anyway, if you're also a haikyuu fan pls check out my series featuring iwaizumi hajime ehe. as usual, your likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! <333 listen to around me - metro boomin ft. don toliver while reading! (only bcs i listened to it on repeat while writing this it's my new fav song atm!!)

sylus who got really interested and was in awe the entire time you were riding him. sylus sees himself as someone who would rather take the initiative in everything that he does, especially sex. after all, he always carries this dominating aura to wherever he goes. but he's not dumb enough to turn down his sweet little girlfriend's intriguing offer to be on top. you wanna show him? go ahead, sweetie. he's your audience and he wants you to entertain him. stun him, make him praise you.

what got sylus going was how enthusiastic you looked when you were on top of him, riding him to the extent your legs were sore enough to walk the moment after. sylus's cock was big and thick. it was no picnic to be on top, taking all of him while trying to work on your hips back and forth, grinding on his cock. you whimpered and moaned endlessly. from grinding to bouncing on his cock but he never once interrupted your hard work.

"mm, sylus, please. need you," you whined, hips stuttering to continue fucking yourself dumb on his cock. it's been almost half an hour but your orgasm was so close yet so far. sylus knew you were starting to get desperate to come, to chase that high you were desperate for. but, he needed you to last longer so you know he won't be giving in to you easily.

sylus's laugh was deep and warm, like the gentle roll of thunder. his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook as his chuckles filled the room. "sweetie, you know the drills when you got on top of me. why don't you be a good girl and finish what you started, hm?" his hand then smacked your bottom as a sign of disapproval. seemed like sylus wasn't too happy when you were whining to him.

you threw your head back, groaning in frustration. this man wouldn't let you give up easily. said that you must persevere no matter what the occasions are. you must rise and be the strongest. but not like this! not when you were vulnerable, aching and desperate for him to take control.

both your hands were now planted on his sculpted chest. his chest glistened with sweat, a bit slippery for you to hold. you then moved closer, your tits pressed against his chest. your arms circled around his broad shoulders. sylus shifted uncomfortably beneath you as he felt your hardened nipples brushed against his sensitive chest. fuck.

again, you rocked your hips, slowly grinding on his cock filling you up so good. all warm and thick inside of you. there was a large full-length mirror next to his bed. from ceiling to floor kind of mirror. he installed it long time ago but you never knew what purpose does it serve. maybe now it finally clicked in your mind.

you've always enjoyed seeing yourself in the mirror or any other reflective surface. maybe this moment needed you to focus on yourself instead of the man underneath you. slowly, you got up. your attention was no longer on sylus but the mirror next to the bed. sylus then shifted his gaze towards the mirror too. now, both of you were staring into each other's eyes through the reflection.

your naked bodies exposed, displaying your most intimate time together. slowly, you rocked your hips, trying to find your rhythm. the tip of his cock nudging your sensitive spot with each thrust. your soft yet heavy pants coming from you filled sylus's room. the man didn't even bat an eye at your noises. his hands then moved to your waist, keeping your hips steady.

since sylus won't take control, you decided to take the matter into your own hands. you know too well he'd end up a whining mess if you started bouncing on his cock. since he was too smug to help you, you planted both your hands on his lower abdomen. your hips moved sensually, grinding on him slowly before you got on your knees and moved up and down his cock. sylus let out a staggered breath once he felt your cunt clenched tightly around his aroused cock.

his larger hands had a firm grip on your waist. he didn't even have to guide your hips now that you did it all by yourself. you alternate between grinding and bouncing up and down his cock. sylus let out soft grunts when your hips started moving faster, just fucking yourself with his cock. what pissed him off was that your attention wasn't even on him but the stupid mirror.

you looked at your drop dead gorgeous reflection in the mirror, bouncing up and down his cock. your tits jiggled with each bounce. you whimpered pathetically at the way his cock nudged your most sensitive spot. "fuck me," you muttered under your breath.

sylus's eyebrows knitted as he grumbled, "you're already doing that, sweetie. using my cock like a sex toy, huh?"

still, you weren't looking at him. he got frustrated so he flipped both of you over. he had the upper hand and he used it to his advantage. he couldn't stand not looking at you in the eyes. to not have your attention on him is fatal to him. sylus needs those beautiful pair of eyes to be on him at all times.

you squealed the moment he used his force to flip you guys over. your back pressed against his bed, his height towered over you. "what's so interesting about that mirror, hm? i need your eyes on me, kitten," he spoke in between sharp intakes of breath, each exhalation coming out raggedly.

sylus's thrust was merciless. he kept fucking you like tomorrow doesn't exist. his patience runs thin when he's inside you. he loves taking his time with you but now, he just wants to make you a crying mess. you stumbled upon your words, unable to speak when your cunt being stretched by his thick cock.

you clawed against his back. several faint scratches decorating his muscular back. "fuck, sylus! give me more, please!"

sylus then cupped your chin when you had your eyes shut. he tightened the hold on your cheeks, "open your eyes, sweetie. i need your eyes on me or else i'll leave you high and dry. eyes on me, sweetie. it's now or never." sylus's voice was a dark, smooth blend of sensuality and power, each words punctuated with a commanding edge. typical sylus.

feeling so dazed in your lust, you slowly opened your eyes. his handsome face came into your sight. hair all messy and some strands were sticking to his forehead that was glistened with sweats. he smirked, crimson eyes looking down at you. his gaze filled with hidden desires.

sylus once again flipped both of you over. this time, he got you on all fours, positioning you in front of the mirror. you gasped loudly when he didn't give you any break from his punishing thrusts. at this point, your cunt could remember his cock so damn well. you tried hanging your head low, shying away from the intense gaze sylus was giving you. but he tugged on your hair, making you squeal.

it's like he had you on a leash with the way he tugged on your hair. not until he pressed your back against his front. now both of you were skin to skin again. sylus's ragged breaths felt warm, tingling your ear. you gulped hard. the heat radiating from sylus's body engulfed your skin. sweats started to run along your back. both of you were sweaty and satiated but no one had their first orgasm yet.

"fuck, look at you, sweetie. looking grumpy just because you cannot make yourself come, hm?" sylus's words taunted you. a smirk tugged in the corner of his lips seeing your frustrated expression. yeah, he hit a nail with that one. "my cock is not good enough for you, sweetie?"

you wanted to tell him to shut his mouth but that would be fatal. nah, he won't kill you. he loves you too much. still. you don't dare to go that route yet. "please, sy. i'm tired," you tried bargaining. a negotiation with the devil? yeah, best of luck to that.

sylus scoffed. his jaw ticked at your pitiful plea. "no, not yet, sweetie," he groaned, head thrown back. sylus stifled the rising impulses to come inside you, but he pushed them down with deliberate effort to maintain control over his cold reactions. "ah, fuck," he cursed under his breath.

he fucked you hard and fast, to the point you got overstimulated and tears started streaming down your face. sylus made you watch you cried your eyes out while being pounded relentlessly. your tits jiggled with each punishing thrust. it was sinful, really. but the devil has seen worse. this was blissful. a piece of heaven he could get.

"ah, sylus!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. sylus's hand reached down to cup your pussy, thumb ghosted over your clit. he let his touch lingered there for a while. eventually, he started to draw circles on your puffy clit, waiting for your orgasm to break loose. your breaths came in erratic bursts, each one uneven and sharp as if you were struggling to catch up.

sylus felt the way your pussy clenched around his cock so tightly, it might never want to leave. it was pushing him to his limits too. fuck fuck fuck. he couldn't do this dance any longer. he pushed your body down to the bed, pressing on your back as you arched your back for him. his cock pounded your pussy harder that each breath that came out of you felt hard. you cried with each breath until your orgasm finally broke, releasing the high and endorphins all over the system.

"fuck," you sobbed as you gathered your breath slowly. sylus fucks like a mad man. but he was yet to come so he used you, he used your pussy until his come, hot and thick, filling your womb to the brim. though a wave of dizziness threatened to overtake him, sylus steadied himself and pushed through, determined to check on his girlfriend.

"fuck, sweetie. you were..." he ran out of words. but sylus managed to pick where he left off, "you were so good for me."

you let out a breathless chuckle, "you must persevere, yeah sure i did, babe."

sylus's chuckle was a deep, gravelly rumble, each note rasping out with a rich, textured quality. "mhm, using my words against me, sweetie? have i underestimated your determination or overestimated your intellect?"

he then laid you down on his bed, limbs tangled with each other. both of you tried to gather your consciousness and breath together. "love to see you get all worked up, sweetie," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. "like a feisty kitten." you then hit him on the chest. what a way to ruin your post-orgasmic bliss. sylus must be tone deaf since he cannot read the room at all. but he's a damn good guy when he wants to be and you happen to love both his good and bad sides. that's what makes him even more special.

divider creds to cafekitsune <3

[loganspet]

daddy!oldman!logan and reader in the bathtub 🛁 🫧 🧸 cute and filthy and all kinds of dubious and corrupted pretty please with sugar on top? 🫣 i love your work! please and thank you😋

Thank you for being a sweetheart 🤍

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐲

. . . ─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ─── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

. . . @loganspet

. . .

Pairing:

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Daddy kink, Dom!Logan, Sub!Reader, Fingering

Water’s still warm, the scent of your strawberry bubble bath clinging to the steam curling around the room. The tub’s almost too small for the both of you—your legs draped over his thick thighs, your back resting against his hairy chest. You’re sunk deep into the water, surrounded by floating bubbles and your little pink rubber ducky that keeps bumping against Logan’s arm.

“Didn’t think you’d fit,” you giggle, voice soft and sticky-sweet, tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder. Your hair is damp, curls clinging to your cheeks, lips glossy and wet as you pout up at him.

Logan grunts, He kissed your temple slowly, he had nowhere else to be. You could feel his beard, scratchy, the way his lips lingered, yhe couldn’t get enough of you. One of his hands drifted down into the water, resting low over your pelvis.

You wiggle in his lap, just a little. Just enough. And there it is—the low, warning growl rumbling from deep in his chest, vibrating against your spine.

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart,” he mutters, his breath hot against your cheek as one of those big hands dips below the waterline, palming your tummy before sliding lower. “You wore that skirt on purpose. Bounced on my lap at dinner beggin’ for it.”

“I was just bein’ cute,” you whisper, lashes fluttering. “You love when I’m cute…”

His nose brushed your cheek as he nuzzled you, then dipped to kiss just beneath your ear. “Been a long week. You earned this.”

You nodded, your pigtails brushing his chest, wet and clinging. “Mhm. Thank you, Daddy…”

That word always did something to him. His arms tensed slightly, and you felt him exhale slowly through his nose. His hand dipped lower under the water, spreading your thighs apart, big palm completely dwarfing your body.

“You look so pretty, sittin’ on my lap” he whispered.

You whimpered when his fingers slipped between your legs, dragging slow and easy through your slick folds. The water sloshed gently as he moved, the warmth only making you melt more.

“Bet you like bein’ my good girl, don’t you?” he murmured, kissing your shoulder, biting gently. “Bet you love sittin’ here with your legs spread while Daddy touches you real nice.”

You nodded again, breath hitching. “I love it… love Lo”

You whimpered when his fingers slipped between your legs, lazy and confident, parting your folds under the water with the kind of ease that only came from knowing every inch of you. He was slow with it—teasing—like he had all the time in the world to ruin you.

“Daddy…” you breathed, hips twitching. You were already melting for him, thighs floating open, head lolling back against his shoulder.

“Hm?” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “Somethin’ you need, sweet girl? Use your big girl words for me.”

You flushed, heat blooming low in your belly and up your chest. “Want you to touch me…”

He chuckled—low, rough, pleased. “Yeah?” His hand stilled for a moment, cupping you. “Where, baby?”

You grabbed his wrist with your smaller hand, trying to guide him without thinking, but Logan just chuckled again and nipped at your neck. “C’mon. That mouth’s not just for suckin’ on Daddy’s cock, is it?”

You gasped, your thighs twitching around his hand. “Want you to touch my pussy, Lo, please—”

“There that wasn’t so hard,” he growled, finally giving in. His fingers began to move again, sliding over your clit in slow, tight circles, making you whimper into the steamy fogging up the mirror across the room.

“My good girl,” Logan rumbled against your neck, his beard dragging along your damp skin as his fingers moved in slow, practiced circles. “So fuckin’ soft down here. All warm for me.”

You keened, back arching, head tipping against his shoulder. The water sloshed gently as your thighs flexed around his thick wrist, pigtails clinging wetly to your cheeks.

“You like that?” he asked, voice low and gravel-slick, barely more than a growl. “Sittin’ here in my lap, bein’ so sweet for me while I play with you?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, squirming in his hold. “Feels so good, Daddy…”

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t rush. Just keeps working you open, touching you like he’s memorized every nerve. You’re trembling in his lap, little sobs catching in your throat.

“Could sit here all fuckin’ night,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Touchin’ you. Listenin’ to you whine.”

“Keep beggin’, baby,” he urges, lips hot against your ear. “Wanna hear you say how much you need it.”

“Please, Daddy,” you cry, rocking helplessly. “Please don’t stop—feels so good—feel you everywhere…”

“That’s ‘cause you perfect for me,” he rasped, his free hand palming your chest, thumbing your nipple, cupping your tits. “Takin’ care of you as promised.”

You gasp when his fingers press deeper, thick and steady under the water. Your hips twitch forward, but his other arm wraps firm around your waist, keeping you still against him.

“Logan,” you whisper, squirming, reaching back to grab at his forearm—thick, veiny, dusted in damp hair. Your painted nails dig into his skin, and he doesn’t even flinch. Just groans low into your neck, then sinks his teeth softly into the skin just beneath your ear.

“You’re so fuckin’ soft,” he rasps, mouth open and hot as he kisses along your neck. “Can’t get enough’a this skin, these sounds. Look at you—already all floatin’ and fucked-out on just my fingers.”

His free hand slides up, slick with bubbles, until it grips your jaw and tilts your head toward his. “Gimme those lips, baby.”

You turn, pliant and aching, mouth already parted—and he kisses you like he’s starving. It’s deep and wet and filthy, his tongue curling slow into yours as his fingers keep moving, sliding through your folds with practiced, sinful rhythm. Your moans melt into his mouth, breathy and broken as he swallows every one.

When he pulls back, his hand is still on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek while his fingers keep working below.

“Look at me,” he says rough, eyes dark with heat. “Keep those big pretty eyes on me while I ruin you in my tub.”

You try. God, you try. But then he tightens his grip just slightly around your throat—not enough to hurt, just to hold, to anchor. His lips crush into yours again, desperate and possessive, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

Your thighs tremble under the water as he pushes his fingers in deeper, curling them until your back arches and your breath stutters against his mouth. He groans again, hand sliding down to your chest, palming one of your breasts through the slick water, tugging at the soft flesh like it’s his.

“Every inch of you,” he pants against your lips, “mine.”

Your voice is high, needy. “Yours, daddy.”

His eyes flutter like he’s losing control—his restraint fraying at the edges. He kisses you again, slower now, messier, tongue dragging across your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

The tub rocks gently with the motion of your bodies. Water splashes softly over the edge as Logan’s hand glides from your chest down to your hip again, gripping it hard enough to bruise.

Then his forehead drops to yours, both of you breathing heavy, chests rising and falling in tandem.

“You feel that, baby?” he growls, pressing himself up against your lower back, his hard length twitching between you under the water. “I’m gonna need you ridin’ me real slow when we’re done in here. Think you can handle that?”

You nod breathlessly. “Yes”

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Daddy’s good girl.”

You cried out, gasping his name—“Logan”—as your climax crested, warm and tight and dizzying. Your body locked up in his lap, thighs clenching, water sloshing as your pleasure poured over you like heat, like light.

“My sweet baby.” You melted into him, boneless and trembling, his arm wrapping firm around your belly as he held you through the aftershocks. You could hear the deep, steady sound of his breathing, the occasional kiss he pressed to your wet temple.

Logan shifted a little, careful not to jostle you too hard, reaching for a soft towel near the edge of the tub. He pulled you closer, letting you curl up against his chest while he gently cleaned you with warm water and slow strokes, like you were precious.

“You okay?” he murmured, nose brushing your temple.

You nodded, soft and dazed. “Mhm. Thank you,…”

“Yeah,” he whispered sweetly. kissing your cheek again “You’re welcome”

…

[pookietv]

nausea | arthur tv

hey guys! i have been MIA for crazy amounts of time but here is a little self indulgent fluff fic to satiate your fanfiction needs :P

the ache in your lower stomach had plagued you for far too long now, a sick kind of dull ache that just completely ruined your mood. you had always struggled with periods - the nausea which led you to gripping the toilet bowl and praying for the gagging to end, or the lower back pain which was enough to make you want to pull your spine from your back just for some relief.

so that's what your day had consisted of: curled up in your soft floral bedsheets, trashy TV playing from your laptop which lay next to you, brightness turned all the way down to avoid offending your migraine, though it was being half ignored, curtains pulled closed even though sunlight was still leaking through.

you had become content with the fact that this is how your day would be spent, with even slightly moving hurting, and had reduced yourself to bed-dwelling.

well, at least until you got a text from arthur.

"hey babe, should be at yours in about 15 mins, you almost ready?"

fuck. your self pity party had made you completely forget that you and arthur had plans today - some new spot for food had opened and arthur had been so excited to take you.

not bearing being able to look at the bright screen, you quickly clicked call so you didn't have to text out your whole apology and explanation.

he picked up quickly, "hi you, everything good?" his voice rang down the phone, as soft and lovely as usual.

"arthur, 'm so sorry... i really don't think i'm gonna make it out today, i've got the worst pain," you said, voice slightly quiet cause you felt so bad ruining the nice day you had planned.

"huh? you didn't tell me you were getting sick, are you okay?"

you hummed for a second, "not sick, just period - y'know, cramps and migraines and aches, but i'm really sorry i'm just cancelling on you now, i feel dreadful,"

"you don't need to feel bad, not your fault at all babe," he said, voice gentle and laced with concern, "i'll come round, look after you hm?"

you felt a small smile of flattery creep onto your face, "oh, arthur you don't have to do that, feel bad you being stuck in the house with a miserable me,"

"oh hush, told you i wanted to see you today, even if it is a grumpy you," he said, and you could hear his grin down the phone.

"mkay, well, uh, feel free to come round whenever, you've got a spare key," you said softly, face still half smushed in the pillow.

"see you soon, darling," he said gently, and the phone clicked.

you hadn't been planning on falling asleep, but the sheets that wrapped around you like a cocoon and the dull throbbing of your headache became a lullabye, eyes closing before you even realised you were falling asleep.

it was only when you heard soft thudding footsteps when you began to stir, eyes slightly fluttering open to the touch of a hand stroking your hair, and arthur in front of you, small smile lingering on his face.

"hey, you. sorry, didn't mean to wake you, you just looked so peaceful. you wanna go back to sleep?"

your arms stretched slightly above your head, still laid down and looking at arthur crouched on the ground, level with your bed.

"mmm, no. 'm awake now," you smiled, pulling yourself up from the cosy bed, now sat upright.

"you look warm," arthur murmured, hand pressing against your cheek lightly.

"really? feel like i've been freezing all day," you said softly.

he frowned a little, and stood himself up offering you his hand.

"outta bed so soon?" you pouted mockingly, and arthur shook his head jokingly in response.

"well, if you don't wanna come see the surprise be my guest..." he teased, and despite your throbbing head, that was enough to rouse you out of your pile of blankets.

your feet padded across the carpet, following him to your front room that had been temporarily converted into what looked like somewhere to hibernate for winter - each inch of sofa covered in fluffy blanket or pillows, and enough snacks on the coffee table to comfortably provide for a family of four for at least two weeks.

the curtains were drawn, despite it being daytime, and instead your small lamps were turned on around the room, but the main source of light came from the TV, which had your switch loaded up and connected to it.

"i figured since your head was hurting we could keep it dark in here, and i got all your favourite foods, at least all the ones i could find - and i figured you've been so busy recently and you always talk about how you wanna finish playing portal with me so i figured if you're not feeling too sleepy or ill that maybe today would be a good day to just chill and play, but if you'd rather not or don't like the idea we can totally-" arthur rambled on, until you cut him off.

"arthur, you're so sweet. i'd love to have a chill day and play portal with you." you said softly, hugging his side with a wide grin on your face.

"okay, good. i just didn't want you to be alone if you weren't feeling well." he said softly, hand resting lightly on your back, thumb gently smoothing over the fabric of your shirt.

"i also got peppermint tea, which is apparently supposed to be good for period pain, who knew? it's apparently supposed to be an anti-inflammatory, which means it can reduce cramps and nausea, so,"

"arthur, i love you but could we maybe go into the science of peppermint tea after we start playing?" you teased lightly.

he grinned, "yeah, of course. whatever you want."

[laiiaaa]

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE — CARMEN BERZATTO 1. BUTTERSCOTCH — you finally say hello to a familiar face in the city after a little girl bumps into you. (2.7k) masterlist | next | taglist

Carmen keeps track of the running grocery list in his head:

Green onions? Check. Shallots? Check. Rolled oats? Check.

“Alright,” he huffs into the phone, a stupid thing tucked snug between his shoulder and jaw.

“Carm, I’m serious—”

“Nat, I got it, alright? I’ll call the fuckin’ guy.” Strawberries? Check. Eggs? Check. “I’m at the store, ‘n I’ll be back, ‘n then I’ll call him. It’s fine.” Dino nuggets? Check. That way-too-sugary cereal Sofia likes—? Even though he wishes Richie never gave it to her—? Check, check, check, so fuckin’ checked. “Now, do you wanna talk to—”

He looks to his side, where Sofia once stood with chubby little fingers hooked on the cart, that raggedy old stuffed animal always caught in the other fist. Gone. Carmen’s heart stops and catches in his throat. 

Natalie’s voice again, much quieter now that the phone’s not at his ear. “Hello?”

He doesn’t even hear his sister, doesn’t process her words.

He turns around. “Sof?” But she’s not there.

He tries again, facing forward, a little louder. “Sofia?” Nothing. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, ending the call without a second thought. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

He shoves his phone into his pocket, abandons the cart altogether, pokes his head into the aisle over. “Sofia.” Nothing. “Shit—”

He can’t breathe. A closed fist shoots to his chest to try and soothe the droughted ache. The ceiling’s closing in from above, every aisle looks the same, his feet are too heavy to carry him fast enough through the store.

Where’s his fuckin’ kid?

You’re spooked out of a fatigued trance by a clumsy little girl at your feet in the produce section. 

She can’t be older than four, her chubby little face framed by golden brown curls, dressed in a cute little black dress and pink tights, ballet flats to boot. By her hand is a well-loved stuffed animal: an orange tabby cat with lint fuzzies along its body, teetering on the edge of the display about to fall into the lettuce.

“Well, hello,” you start.

She peeks up at you through stray curls with a grin. “Hi.”

You do a quick scan of the immediate area but spot nothing other than a worker stocking bananas twenty feet away, another pushing a cart of mangoes. “Where’d you come from, hm?” You perch down next to her and try to offer a warm smile to keep her calm.

“I’m here with my daddy.”

“Yeah? Where’s he at?”

Her lips, shiny with drool, puff into a pout. “I…” Her little voice wobbles, and you know that fucking wobble, that precursor to something uncontrollable and wretched, and for a split second you consider letting her cry, just on the off chance her dad hears it.

But you come to your senses: it’ll take all but five, no more than ten minutes to cover the entire store ground. You graze your hand by her back and offer her the sorry excuse for a cat. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s alright. I’ll help you.”

“B-But…” Those pretty brown eyes of her turn glassy, ready for tears, and her lip quivers, her cheeks puff out.

“I’ll help you find him, okay? We’ll wait right here, and I promise he’ll find you. We won’t leave this spot til he does.”

She hesitates before she nods, gives you a warbled, “Okay.”

You give her your name—something you read or heard from word of mouth, how putting a name to your face makes you more trustworthy. “What’s yours?”

“...Sofia.”

“Sofia,” you repeat. “That’s a very pretty name.”

The dimples that come through with her smile have you swooning, your chest filling with something sweet. A supercut you’ve long since abandoned flits through one of the best and worst years you’ve endured: kisses at the door for hello and goodbye, chilly Chicago mornings spent in someone else’s sheets, serving coffee in thick handmade mugs and being thanked for it with lips pressed to your cheek. But that was a year ago, and it’s long gone. You’re better off now—occupied with work, and running a business, and trying new things, and finding comfort in the solitude of an apartment that’s filled with nothing but the smell of coffee grounds.

Your pointer finger lifts her toy’s head: “And who’s this?”

“Butterscotch,” she says, Butter sounding a whole lot like Buttah.

“Yeah? Where’d you come up with that name?”

“My daddy’s a chef, he teached it to me.”

A chef, you hum, No wonder he’s here at seven in the morning.

And you do just about everything you’d want someone to do if this were your kid: you keep her right where she is like you promised her, you listen to all her stories she has with Butterscotch, you answer the silly questions she asks while she holds your finger in a squishy hand and bears a gummy smile.

Until—

A man wrought with stress approaches. Fitted white tee, loose denim on his hips, beat up Nikes that’ve probably seen better days. Golden brown curls like the little girl’s, only thicker, darkened with age, and half-straightened, probably from the way he runs his fingers through them like he does as he walks toward you and the girl. Buff arms, built shoulders, and they’re littered with tattoos…

Not what you expected. And he looks so fucking familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it—

“Sofia,” he huffs, and she scurries over to him in tiny yet quickened steps and jumps into his arms, his eyes closing and brows furrowing with a relief that’s palpable as he tucks his nose into her swirling hair. “What’d I tell you about comin’ to the store w’me, huh?” A veiny hand with the letters S O U inked on the fingers cups the back of her head as he sways her from side to side, failing to give her much of a stern look at all despite his frustration. “You gotta stay by my side, I told you, you’ll get lost.”

“But I wasn’t lost, Daddy,” she pouts, “I was right here, and—and I had to find Butterscotch, and you—you weren’t there—”

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing his hand along her back before he thumbs away budding tears from her fleshy cheeks. “Okay, hon…” He props her at his hip. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just scared me ‘s all, alright? Didn’t know where you were, had me lookin’ all over for you.”

“...I’m sorry,” she mumbles, clearly upset, nuzzling into her dad’s shoulder as he presses a sweet kiss to her head.

He looks to you, then, and you lend him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about her, she’s, uh…” He peeks at her, so lovingly— “She can be a handful sometimes.”

“No, don’t apologize, she was great.” Your eyes drift to his hands. They’re big, strong, like he knows what to do with them around the house, with a baby girl...with her mother, too, though you wonder where that stands. You try not to. “She’s talkative, makes for a fun conversation. A great storyteller, too.”

He smiles, and it’s hearty, with a twitch of a brow as he draws just a bit closer—it’s slight, so slight you almost think you’re imagining things. “Think so? She doesn’t usually, um…doesn’t usually wanna talk to people, y’know?” He hikes her up again, and she turns so that she’s facing you. “Get all grumpy, don’t ya, Sof? Like with your Uncle Richie?”

“But she’s nice,” she chimes in, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving the cat’s head peeking through. “Not mean like he is.”

Again with that smile, he looks at her with raised brows, bobs her up and down as he holds her tight, like she’s his entire world. “Yeah?” He shoots you back a look, half-impressed. “You don’t wanna see him today, huh?”

“No,” she grumbles, face smushed into his tee. “Can she come to work with us instead?”

“Sof…” He scoffs, cocking his head to the side, and his eyes dart between you and his girl. “That’s not—we can’t just—”

“Pretty please, Daddy…” She pouts at him, pulls on his neck with her arms looped around it, starts trying to lean back to stir up trouble but his hands hold her firm to his torso. “You said Eva and Vivi can’t play today…”

“I—I know, hon— . . . It’s just— . . .” Kissing his teeth, he contemplates for a moment. “She probably has work to do, y’know? Just like I have to work? And how sometimes you can’t come with me?”

“Where does she work?”

“Uhhh…” In an awkward pause, he seems to realize the dilemma. The expectant glance your way is almost painful. “Shit,” he hisses, holding Sofia with one hand to run fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, I should’ve—I should introduce myself, right?” The pained look on his face makes you think the question is genuine, and he offers his right hand to you— “I’m Carmen, but, um, most people just call me Carmy.”

It clicks: He’s Carmen Berzatto. Not just some guy or some chef in the grocery store you’ve happened to meet, but the guy. The guy who owns the fine dining joint across the street from your cafe; the guy who showed up to the city a few years ago only to revamp his family-owned sandwich shop in its entirety; the guy you’d heard so much about from the gossip around the block between vendors; the guy who left his roots to be something so much bigger than anyone could’ve imagined; the guy who came back with a reputation with none to rival and a shattered family in its shadow. The prodigal son of Chicago. You heard of him but never met.

“Y-Yeah, right, right,” you nod, stumbling for the right words. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.” You take his hand graciously as you give him your name. His handshake is firm, solid, sure of himself, with a callused palm and dry skin and cracked knuckles, an inked-on hand with a knife through its palm on the back of his hand. “You own The Bear, right?”

“I do.” Sheepish, like it’s embarrassing to be successful.

“Cool, cool, I’ve, um, I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, but I’ve never been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Something warm in your belly comes to the surface and you try to drown it. “I own the cafe across the street—? Just a, uh, a smaller place—” You shake your head as if to dismiss the thought of him even knowing about it. “I dunno if—”

“No, no, yeah, I know that one, a few doors down—” he nods, fervently— “Etta’s, right?”

You smile. He knew of it so quick, with so little detail you want to think it means something. “Yeah, that’s the one.” For fuck’s sake, the guy probably just likes to support his local businesses. Get a grip.

“My sister loves that place, goes there all the time. But I, uh…” A soft smile at his girl. “I don’t usually have much time to go myself…”

“Yeah, I can imagine you’re pretty busy with her.” Unless her mom is in the picture…?

But he doesn’t take the bait—he only smiles, hums with a subtle nod, gives Sofia a pat on the back to get her attention, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey, cub, guess what?”

She comes to only slightly, with pale blonde locks like angel’s hair tickling Carmen’s neck. Grumbles something akin to a Hm?

“You know those chocolate chip muffins you like? The ones your Aunt Natalie gets for you?”

Her curls are already caught in her eyelashes. “With the sparkles on top?”

He gives you a knowing look: sugar, not sparkles. “Yes, with the sparkles. Did you know our new friend here runs that shop?”

Her head perks up with a gasp. “What?” Her excitement is so soft, and she can’t even stave off a smile now, tiny teeth shining through to show the dimples in her cheeks again.

“You heard me.”

From her mouth is only a whisper, a doe-eyed look targeted right at you. “No way.”

You smile at her. “Yes way.”

She puts on those puppy dog eyes, looks at Carmen with a pout as she tugs on him again. “Daddy, can we please—”

 In one fell swoop, his hand whisks her hair out of her face. “Uh-uh. Nice try.”

Oh, but she’s a stubborn one. “But please—”

“Not today, baby, we gotta finish shopping, hm? Then go to work?” His eyes dart to meet yours in a knowing glance, a silent apology and excuse to leave. “Maybe I’ll ask Aunt Natalie to get them for you tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

She huffs and buries herself into his neck again, turning away from you now that she’s in a surly mood.

“Okay,” he sighs, smiling to himself, and you can’t deny the comfort in seeing his little girl so cozy with him, like he’s either the only parent around, or he’s really just that good of a father—and husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, or whatever he might be. You don’t know if you should feel guilty for wanting to pry.

The conversation lulls to a hesitant stop, like neither one of you is sure how to bid farewell—or whether you want to do so at all.

“Y’know,” he starts, with a finality to his tone, “I’ve still gotta—”

“Yeah, me too—”

“And I left the cart in the other aisle—”

“Right, right, of course—”

“And they need me at the—”

“Same here, I need to, uh—”

“Right, yeah, so um—”

“Yeah—”

“I guess I should—”

“Probably—”

“And, uh—…”

“It was nice to meet you, though,” you finish, maybe a little too enthusiastic for only having just done so minutes ago.

But if it were, Carmen doesn’t show it. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around.”

You offer a softened smile. “Guess so.”

And he leaves you with a curt nod before he turns around with Sofia’s face smushed into his shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck to leave Butterscotch hugged to the nape of it. That’s all you see, then: just a beaten up stuffed animal and springy golden curls as Carmen rounds the corner of the aisle, your breath gone short and face gone warm by the end of it.

Half of it, you’re sure, is the simple brevity of it all: consoling a lost child, to chatting with her father, to finding out he’s a business neighbor. And against your better judgment, the other half of it is a twinge of attraction to him.  Even though he has a kid, and he may very well be married, or at least in a relationship, and by the looks of it, stressed out of his goddamn mind…

But there’s just something about him.

The way he was worried about his daughter like he’s supposed to be, the way he holds her and dotes on her and rubs her back like it’s nothing but natural to him, the heartwarming smile that reaches his eyes just by looking at his precious girl. The hard-earned strength in his hands and arms, the symbolic imagery of his tattoos that you’ve yet to dwell upon in late night hours, the awkward demeanor about him like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to talk to you—or if he even knows how. And all this, you see in a man working down the street, a man you’ve never spoken to until today, who could be the worst person in the world for all you know.

You don’t, is the thing. You don’t know his middle name, or his favorite color, or favorite food, or where he’s even worked, really, other than here in Chicago. You don’t know if Sofia’s mother is still around, or whatever happened to her if she isn’t, or if it’s a topic he breaches freely or not at all.

You don’t know enough about him yet to judge. You don’t know much at all. You don’t know if you want to, whether it’ll send you head first into a mess of pasts not unlike the one you’ve been trying to crawl out of alone for the past grueling months, if it’d upturn all the good you’ve tried to make stick.

But if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you want to see him again. 

And that you’ll have to make a batch or two of muffins first.

masterlist | next | taglist

@knight4xmas @ajourneyforjoy @penguin876

[thewertsearch]

Damn it Jane, take that fucking thing off!

(Watch her immediately stop believing Roxy's claims.)

TG: k lets get busay TG: what you want 2c me disappearify GG: The baking chest, maybe? TG: too big TG: i got size restrictions here TG: bigger stuff takes huge amount sof power to swipe TG: so this gizmo i have has a built in size cap TG: like somethin as big as you for insance TG: i cant take TG: believe me ive triiiied

Who hasn't wished they could teleport directly to their online friends, and hang out in person? This comic’s just filled to the brim with lonely kids.

GG: Well, what immediately catches my attention is this enormous book. GG: I wonder how it squares with your size restriction? TG: wut book GG: My Unabridged Sassacre's! GG: It's a very rare edition, and a precious family heirloom, so I don't know if it would make an ideal candidate for the journey. TG: no no r u kidding that shit is perfect […] GG: But what if it gets damaged!

Jane's genuinely worried about damaging the book, which is proof to me that she's not just humoring Roxy anymore. A part of her really is starting to believe her friend.

GG: Couldn't we send Wise Guy instead? GG: At least it can be easily replaced. TG: jane GG: ? TG: jaaanae GG: HM?? TG: FUCK wise guy

Seconded. We want to appearify some real shit.

Welcome to a wonderful new world, Jane.

By the way, just how accurate are this appearifier's crosshairs? Roxy might not be able to summon Jane, but perhaps she can nab that pesky tiara.

GG: It worked! GG: The book is gone! TG: oh no TG: aaaawwwww shit

Welp.

Maybe Roxy's experiments have tripped some sort of alarm, and the Condesce is coming for her?

TG: the book itself is topes fine :* […] GG: Then what's the problem? TG: fffff TG: im so stupid :( TG: so stupoid so stupud soos tupob :((( GG: Will you tell me what happened?? TG: gotta go bbl TG: well talk abt important stuffs l8r tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

That would certainly fit here, because this crisis sounds urgent. Maybe it's unrelated to the appearifying experiments, and we're simply a victim of unfortunate timing.

TG: on last thing jane TG: DO NOT RUN THEFILE I SENT U BEFORE I GET BACK

Good call, that. Roxy needs to be there to accept Jane's Sburb connection - and if she's not, Jane might connect to someone else and inadvertently doom the timeline.

[leonw4nter]

Holding Our Dreams As You Lie To Rest

Dad!RE4R!Leon x F!Reader

“Time of birth, 2:31 AM.”

“Time of death, 2:31 AM.”

The nurse lays his newborn daughter on her mother’s still chest, the first and final time his daughter would ever get to feel her mother. Her unbroken cries drowned out the beeping of the heart monitor, a stark contrast to the state of eternal peace her mom will forever be in. They kept their daughter on her chest for a few more moments before lifting her back up, her cries growing louder as her tiny hands stretched out to try and hold on to her mom as if she knew she would never see, feel, hear or be with her again. Leon felt as if he’d been killed twice, losing a life in the same moment he gained a new one; he wanted to cry, to scream, and gently rock your body back and forth but he can’t– he has to be a father. He has to. He bends down, taking her cold hand in his trembling ones and presses kisses as he looks up at you. Eyelids curtained your eyes that once held a brightness greater than a million suns, pale lips fixed into a straight line; lips that would never smile again. He moves over to your face; you’re still beautiful, even when death stole the color and life from your features. He hugs you tight and buries his face in the nook of her neck, softly sobbing and whispering apologies as he strokes your hair one last time; you always loved it when he did that. Doctors come in and unplug her from the machines, fixing her before draping white linen over her body and taking that bed out of the hospital room. A nurse approaches Leon with a small voice, her own eyes slightly glossy as she extends her arms and gently moves the baby to Leon. He takes her in his arms, a flurry of overwhelming emotions overriding his ability to process this moment.

“I’m sorry, my dearest daughter.” he whispers. “I’m sorry for robbing you of the chance to have a mother.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s growing so fast, honey. She’s a strong girl just like her dad,” you softly say as you pat your growing belly. Leon is splayed out right on top of you, situating himself on your legs and nuzzling his cheek into the side of your belly.

“Yeah. 3 months more and I’ll have two girls in my life,” he softly says with a smile.

“Baby?”

“Hm?”

“Have you thought of names for her?”

“Hm… no. Not yet. I want you to be the one to name her. I mean– you’ll know her best. You’re going to be carrying her for nine months, it’s only right that you’ll get to name her.”

“Don’t you have any ideas for names?”

“I have some in mind.”

“Like what?”

“Araminta, but we can call her ‘Minty’ for short. It sounds cute, right? What about ‘Cassandra’? I was asking Hunnigan for some ideas and she offered that and I think it’s nice too. ‘Jewel’ sounds great too. Oh– what about ‘Stella’? I think it’s a very pretty name.”

A twinkling laughter escapes your lips as Leon lists out all the names he finds pretty, musing about possible combinations that sound prettiest. Another hand moves to the top of his head, gently ruffling white spun-sun strands in between your fingers, a pleased hum reverberating throughout Leon’s chest. The laughter stays short-lived when you feel a kick to your rib, causing you to jerk and yelp.

“You alright, Y/N?” Leon asks as he sits up, eyebrows creasing in concern.

“Yeah. The baby just kicked,” she says with a small smile. “Nothing too serious.”

Leon bends down as he places a kiss on the top of your bump, his hands resting on your waist as he draws small circle patterns with the rough pads of his fingers.

“My precious daughter, don’t kick your mom too much, okay? Don’t keep her up at night and give her some time to rest. Daddy’s going to be here for you, don’t worry. We can’t wait to meet you too.”

Leon would give up anything and everything if it means keeping his girls safe and sound. He’d hold the sky up if it meant providing a secure sense of safety and happiness for his wife and daughter.

“Oh? She stopped kicking.” you softly say with an amused lilt to your voice. “Guess all I needed was for you to speak for her.”

“She’s a smart girl, just like her mother. God, I’m too lucky to have you both in my life.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Claire, can… can you come over? She won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…” Leon hoarse at the other end of the line as he holds his daughter with one arm and his phone in the other. His daughter has been crying endlessly, depriving them both of sleep. He’s tried everything– soft singing, rocking her back and forth, feeding, checking her diapers, burping, readjusting the swaddling of her cloth but none would calm her down.

Oh, Y/N. I don’t know what to do. She needs you. I need you too. Can you come back to us? Please?

“Have you tried laying her near some of Y/N’s sweaters?” Claire suggests. “God you’re so stupid for not considering that. She might be missing her mom,” Leon thinks to himself. Placing the phone down, he rushes to his and Y/N’s room to find her favorite sweater. He lays the pastel lime-green sweater on her crib before placing her down, gently patting her belly and pressing kisses to her puffy cheeks.

“C’mon honey. Please… please stop crying. I-I don’t know what to do, I’m sorry that mom’s not here right now- Dad’s really sorry, sweetie.” Leon quietly says as he feels some of his own tears stream down his cheek.

Eventually, she stops crying and falls asleep. Leon looms over her, her tiny hand holding on to his thumb. He feels pity for her; he broke the promise of making sure she grows up in a perfect family. He feels as if he doesn’t deserve his daughter, he couldn’t even grant Y/N the dream of becoming a mother. She had long wished for a child of her own, to be able to be a mother and he couldn’t give her that. She carried his child for nine months, enduring morning sickness, swelling ankles, and every single bodily hysteric and he didn’t even give her a chance to see your daughter.

The faint noise of the doorbell from downstairs shakes Leon from his thoughts, putting on a shirt and going downstairs to pick up the door.

“Claire?”

“You just suddenly dropped the call after I suggested the sweater thing so I came down and went here. How’s she? Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. The sweater did just the trick.” he bitterly says. A silence lingers between the two for a bit before he speaks up. “I miss her, Claire. I miss Y/N. I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know if–” his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I’m up for this without her.”

Claire moves to Leon and engulfs him in a tight hug, tears of her own flowing down her freckled cheeks. Y/N’s death was not easy for everyone who gracefully waltzed into her life– Chris, Claire, Rebecca, and Jill all hurting in their own way but not as profoundly deep and scarring as Leon.

“I know you do. We all miss her, Leon.”

Leon sobs into her shoulder, his body shaking as choked sobs leave him. Truly, he felt like the worst person in the world.

“Claire, look at me. Look at her– I took Y/N away from my own daughter. I stole her own mother away and she’s never fucking coming back! I’m lost and nothing without her, I don’t even know how to stop my daughter from crying. My daughter needs Y/N and I can’t give her that. All I can provide for her are pictures and her clothes because there’s no mother to sing and hold her.”

Claire holds him tighter, her hands gently patting Leon’s back as she stays silent and lets Leon spill all of his feelings.

“She wouldn’t be fucking dead had I brought her to the hospital two hours earlier. If only I listened to her and took her there when she started bleeding instead of choosing to mow the damn lawn I wouldn’t have ruined my daughter’s life from the start. Her heart would not have failed her– I wouldn’t have failed her if I was actually a decent man, Claire.”

“Leon, you’re more than decent. You’re doing everything you can for your daughter and that’s what matters–”

“But I’ll never fill in the Y/N shaped hole in her tiny heart. No one and nothing ever could, no matter how hard I try.”

Leon’s fought all kinds of monsters and abominations, barely making it back each time but it was worth it to see his Y/N’s brilliant face beaming at him everytime he stumbled home. If he could save someone from the horrors of bioterrorism, why couldn’t he save his own wife by simply sending her to the hospital two hours earlier than he should’ve?

Claire couldn’t say anything. It’s not that she agreed with whatever self depreciating fact Leon said but whatever words she would say won’t make anything feel better. Y/N shaped Leon into who he is now– changing and transforming him into a person no one knew Leon could be capable of becoming and her death simply left Leon a shattered and broken person; a shell of his former self. Leon would go through that fateful night in Raccoon City a hundred times again if it meant having her back– even if Y/N would fall out of love with him or be destined with someone else, as long as she was happy and alive. Happiness is the last thing Leon deserves right now. Standing at the doorway of his home, Claire held the shattered pieces of the blond and offered him a shoulder to cry his broken heart on.

Later that night, Leon laid down on his side of the bed whilst he moved his daughter to Y/N’s side so that she would be around her scent. He enjoyed silent nights with you, just laying in the same bed and smiling at the fact that he married the maker of all his dreams but now the silence was a painful reminder that a half of him perished forever. He left her things as they were before the two headed to the hospital, not wanting to wash the clothes she wore just to have some form of her around for just a little longer. He left the mug she drank from untouched as well and he didn’t bother to hide the bath products Y/N left behind in the shower. Her makeup products were still neatly lined up on the counter and he often wore her hair ties on his wrist but he avoided looking at the wedding band she took off. Y/N’s fingers have started swelling and on doctor’s advice, she took it off but kept it around her neck with a chain. The funeral was especially difficult, seeing her lie so stiffly with her features looking a little different. He didn’t have time to grieve because her parting gift needed him the most. Speaking of parting gift, he finds himself thinking that she left him a tiny version of herself to keep him company. She’d absolutely berate him if he gave up now so he hanged on with what little might he had left in him, giving his all for their daughter. He goes to sleep with the prayer that he’ll see Y/N, even for just a quick moment. Even if it’s just in his distant dreams.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

6 years later.

“Do you want more sandwiches or is that enough already?” Leon asks his now 6 year old daughter.

“Nuh-uh. I’m full already.” she responds. Leon moves from his place and inches towards his daughter, a wet wipe in hand to wipe some crumbs from the corner of her lips before pulling out another wipe to wipe her greasy fingers.

“Wanna know something, daddy?” she suddenly asks.

“Hm? What is it?” he responds.

“Auntie Claire told me that our loved ones in heaven send us signs sometimes. She says her own mom sends her and she says she feels a lot better when her mom does. Has mommy ever sent us a sign?”

The question takes Leon off-guard, his gaze drifting to your marble headstone before returning back to his daughter. With a pained grin, he responds to her question.

“Yeah. Mommy likes simple things that make us happy, so to me, she appears as a warm drink on a cold day. Sometimes she’s a particularly nice ray of sunlight. Sometimes, she’s the rain that waters plants. I guess those are signs she sends us.” and I hope you send some more, Y/N. I still miss you.

“So does that mean Mommy’s sign can be a good bedtime story?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks a little more, getting up and giving her mom’s headstone a small pat. With a tiny finger, she traces her name and date of birth.

“We saw a tiny kitten with blue eyes on the way here, right daddy?”

“Mhm. Why? Do you want a kitten?”

“Maybe. But Uncle Chris told me that mommy’s favorite color was blue. I found it weird at first because blue is a boy’s color but Aunt Jill said that it’s a color for anyone. She also said that blue is mommy’s favorite color because it’s the color of your eyes.”

Leon fights back tears, a surprised laugh making its way through his throat despite a lump forming. He nods, his heart fluttering at the fact.

“Yeah, it was, though a lot of her things weren’t blue. Mommy’s an interesting person that way.” he fondly remembers.

Y/N’s death anniversary doesn’t get easier any year, the unbearable pain of remembering her longer than he’s known her weighing on his tattered heart. His daughter finally comes back to him and sits beside him on the picnic blanket, a tiny hand reaching out to hold Leon’s. He can’t believe his own daughter would want to hold the same hand that gets dirty with the blood and muck of biological hellions.

“Auntie Ashley told me you also used to have a friend named Luis when you were in Spain. She said he was funny and smart and nice. Do you think Mommy and Luis are best friends in heaven? She needs someone there too because we’re both still here.”

“Yeah. I hope they’re friends.” Leon had to respond in a more hushed voice to keep his voice from cracking and his tears from spilling, his daughter’s innocence both warming and shattering his heart. “You have her eyes and her lips. Your eyes wrinkle the same way as hers when something makes her smile bright and you scrunch your nose when something makes you laugh. In your face, she is alive.”

NOTE - First angst on this blog!! Woooo!!!! I blasted Mitski while writing this and luckily I did NAWT cry (-> cried in the shower instead). If you're feeling a little sad now that I wrote this, feel free to check out my other fics that are NOT angst (shameless self-advertisement /j). That's all and thanks for reading!!!!! :) UPDATE: Leon photocards haven't arrived yet.

The wave dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[ladygoth]

⛦˙♱⋆♱˙⛧ꜰᴏᴏʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ꜰᴏᴏʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ⛦˙♱⋆♱˙⛧

i am not copying anything since i am the original creator of babydoll, my n1ght4ngel account just got deleted, but thankfully i was able to upload the previous chapters on archive of our own this is chapter five of the black dahlia series, but you can begin to read from here :)

summary - you had ghost fooled and you know you will pay.

18+ daddy kink.

“Let me go with you,” he said as he pulled himself up to his feet, it had been two days since you had met with Fraizer and Ghost himself had to meet with his team-mates in a nearby pub the day after, you had figured that Ghost had been informed of the mission, had carried the intel that Task Force 141 would be teaming up with a group called the Black Dahlias.

You had been sure that they didn’t share your identities because that would’ve meant that Ghost would’ve been aware of your association with the Black Dahlias, and that would’ve led into an awkward and intense conversation.

“You don’t need to go with me to pick up female essentials,” you smiled, ever since you had returned from your meeting with Fraizer, you had been behaving oddly, you did bring back groceries like you have said you would, but as the observant man Ghost had been, he had identified the cold look in your eyes as you had put the objects away.

“Hm,” he grunted, “maybe I just want to spend some time with you before I go away,” he shrugged and thoughtful you had pressed your lips into a thin line before you shrugged in approval. “Don’t know how long I’ll be gone Babydoll,” he shared, “but I’ll be thinking of you every day.”

“Already thinking of the future,” you smiled while the two of you exited your home. “I’ll be by your side, don’t worry.”

One more day until Ghost finally knows who you really are and you could feel your anxiety rise every second, the way he would look at you, it would appear as if he’d knew, but he would eventually say something following after that makes it come off as if he was oblivious to the fact that you were a mercenary and a spy.

To ease your anxiety, you would pull yourself to his lap and guide him into fucking you, you’d ride him like there’d be no tomorrow and currently that’s what you had been doing, to make him less suspicious whenever you appeared like you were hiding something from him. It was bad enough when he had his mask on, so all you would feel was his two piercing eyes examining you, but it was worse when he didn’t have his mask on.

Bare, his face would seem like it was deciphering something, and that was when you’d pull him into a kiss, and pull yourself on top of his lap and gently rock your covered cunt against his length, he’s so easily turned on, so when his size would stretch your sex, he would dive himself into an obsession of fucking his cock up your cunt, his pretty face knitted in a pleased frown while the pad of his fingers would dig into your buttocks, bouncing you up and down his size.

 “Simon, right there!” You whimpered, “ah, you feel so good!”

“I know Babydoll,” he grunted, “so tight around me, bounce on my cock, just like that Babydoll,” he whined, his length twitching inside you, but stubborn, he would hold his load back, edging himself into a plethora wickedness. He would lean his head back, his raspy whines lewd as he would buck his length into you, the head of his shaft licking the soft sponginess of your heat, and compact, your sex would tautly wrap itself around him. “Hold yourself back,” he demanded and tense, you bit down your bottom lips.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as slick love droll would trickle down your chin, desperate to cum but punished by the large man who had sat beneath you. Yet, eventually, with a few more humps, Simon would bring his face closer to yours, his tongue licking your lower mouth before capturing the rest of your lips into an enticing embrace, the kiss strong and passionate as he would continue to buck his hips upwards, his cum eventually quick and warm, coating the softness of your walls with his sticky load. “Oh Babydoll,” he’d whisper, his eyes soft with pure affection and desire.

His hands now at each side of your hips, aiding you into a climatic high, his length still hard and eager for the hearth of your cunt, his lower lips tucked behind his teeth, the expression on his face so provocative and seductive that you could feel the heat of your sex become even more damp intensely. “Daddy,” you shakily breathed out, your hardened nipples printed against your shirt and your bud stinging with arousal, your moans now racing into a higher pitch as you could feel yourself drown into a puddle of peak, your orgasm coating around his size merging with his nectar.

Breathy, you had felt your body gently collapse against his, your face dipped into the crook of his neck. “Your libido has been crazy these days,” he smirked.

“Maybe it’s because I already missed you,” you smiled.

It was the day and you had been averse of what was to come, you had been informed Task Force 141 had been travelling to the Black Dahlia base and you had been teased by Fraizer who had pointed out how you’d been playing with your fingers.

Your closest team-mate AJ who you had been guilty for not being in contact with had been by your side, you two had been brought into the Black Dahlias together and had trained side by side, AJ was an excellent fighter, and was good at the avail of a sniper.

You were a bomb specialist, excellent with guns and had excelled hand-to-hand combat. You were able to make explosives with objects people wouldn’t expect to be bombs, thus that’s how you were able to eliminate high political figures with no suspicion being directed to you.

Your most special creation was a sticker implant, had been the size of a pill and transparent, all you had to do was touch someone, stick it against their skin and with a press of a button they would detonate. Due to you being a skilful asset, Argent, the captain of the entire crew had never wanted to let you go, amongst other eccentric reasons.

“Call me Soap,” and immediately you had been broken out of your train of thoughts, you had heard the name Soap before, you had remembered Simon complaining about him, “think I’ve seen you before,” he hummed and immediately you had felt all eyes fall on you.

Ghost hadn’t been there, so you had played with your fingers, pondered where he might’ve been. “Me?” You asked and sure, Soap beckoned his head.

“You have a pretty distinct face,” he replied and humoured, AJ cocked both of her eyebrows, infatuated with what he had meant.

“Hook-up culture, Blade?” AJ questioned and immediately you had scrunched your face.

“No, never seen him before,” you shrugged and stubborn the man had examined you once again.

“Hm, does he know you’re one?” Soap asked and reticent you had nibbled on your bottom lip, nervous before you shook your head. “The rest of the crew are waiting; Ghost is out there.”

Silent, you had placed your hands against your hips. “You’re telling me you’re with Ghost and you’ve never told me?” AJ asked and embarrassed your eyes had fell to your feet.

“Enough talking about my love life,” you muttered, “We have a mission to do.”

You could feel his eyes burn into the back of your head the moment you entered the vehicle, there had been many transportations, some Black Dahlias and 141 Soldiers pushed into one of each, and with luck playing with your face, as per usual; you had been stuck in the vehicle with Soap and Ghost, fortunately with AJ by your side.

Though, it didn’t make you feel better that you had Fraizer in the driver’s seat, who would undoubtedly instigate a heated conversation between the two of you. The Humvee had been silent, awkward glances being shared between you and AJ and sometimes Soap who could feel the anger radiate from Ghost’s essence.

You had him fooled.

He had left earlier than you, he had expected you to be at work, as you said, but the moment Ghost had left your premises, you had sent Coco to Jasmine who was willingly open to take care of your pet. An hour later you had made way to the Black Dahlia base and not the 9-5 job Ghost thought you had been occupied in.

He had thought you were a civilian, protected from this area of work, but once again, you had fooled him. A whole side of you he was unaware of, people have their secrets, he knows that, but this data was something he had wished you had spoken to him about.

So, he could avoid this rush of emotions that had poured through him, he had hated what he had felt, and this was all because of you, because you were a lying femme fatale, distracting him with your beauty and sex, and like the fool he was, he didn’t question your odd behaviour, your intense need to keep simple things away from him that would lead into bigger commodities.

He was foolish, and you had him outfoxed, and when the time was to come, he’d be eager to show how deceived and misled he had felt.

to make things less confusing, babydoll from the text messaging series is the same babydoll here, the text messages series is before everything in the black dahlia :)

[akatsukinolola]

𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧┊𝗦. 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡

ఌ︎ p. Steve Harrington x f!reader // g. fluff

ఌ︎. cw. established relationship, original character, kissing, Steve being great with kids, talks about wanting kids, talks of marriage, no use of y/n— let me know if i missed any!

ఌ︎. wc. 1.4k

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Your baby sister, Madilyn, is the textbook definition of an angel. Of course she has her moments, she’s a kid, but for the most part, she’s the best tiny human ever. Which is why you had no problems looking after her while your parents were on their anniversary trip for the weekend.

The two of you were on the sofa watching Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown while dinner was finishing on the stove. Ending the day with dumb cartoons and your favorite human was a win in your book.

Suddenly, the phone rang drawing your attention away from the television. A part of you wanted to ignore it, but if it was your parents and they had to call again, you’d get a never ending earful. Approaching the blush pink landline on the wall you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Babydoll,” your boyfriend’s smooth voice sounded over the receiver. You leaned against the wall, a smile playing on your lips.

“Hi, Stevie,” your voice sounded breather than anticipated. Even after almost two years together, Steve Harrington still makes you feel like a girl with an elementary school crush.

Introducing Steve, Hawkins’ resident rich boy, to your family was nerve-wracking. The day he picked you up for your first date, you opened the door with a then two-year-old Madilyn on your hip. She shied away and hid half of her face in your neck. After greeting you with a kiss on the cheek he turned to the girl in your arms, “Is this little Madilyn that likes Care Bears?” he asked excitedly and the rest is history.

Your baby sister successfully stole your boyfriend.

But there are no hard feelings because watching the two of them interact with each other is a beautiful sight. Steve’s patience and ability to keep up with the toddler’s often nonsensical rambles, make you firmly believe that he would make a great father; hopefully to your own kids someday.

“How’s babysitting going?”

“It’s been good, you know Maddie’s a good kid,” you shrugged watching the little girl curled up on the couch with her stuffed bunny.

“Mm,” he hummed as he exhaled, “You two want company? Or is it strictly sister bonding time?”

“Hm, I think the kid and I can go for a night with our favorite guy,” your smile widened as you twirled the coiled line around your finger.

“Well in that case, I’ll see you in 10.”

“Steve…you live twenty minutes away,” you said skeptically.

“Like I said, 10 minutes— I love you,” you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“I love you too and please drive safely,” sincerity coating your words. With a promise to see each other soon, you hang up and join your sister on the couch.

Maddie shifted over to curl into your side. You looked down at the girl and squished her closer. Becoming a big sister is easily one of the best things to happen to you. Sure fourteen year old you was skeptical and a little jealous about your first sibling, but as soon as you held the newborn in your arms for the first time, you knew you would do anything for her.

A loud knock on the door had you both alert and looking toward the front hallway. Upon opening the door, you were met with a very sexy looking Steve Harrington. His sunglasses were perched on his nose and the yellow Polo shirt was unbuttoned showcasing his chest hair. He smiled cockily and removed his sunglasses, “you can eye fuck me inside, doll,” he pushed past you and into the house. Closing and locking the door for you, Steve wound his arm around your waist and pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled before pressing another short kiss to his lips. Taking him by the hand, you walked back into the living room. “Maddie, look who’s here!” you caught the girl’s attention. Propping herself up on the back of the sofa, she smiled widely and waved her hand so fast, it was just a blur.

“Hi, Steve!” she said excitedly. She held out her arms, her bunny long forgotten, and Steve scooped her up and gave her a big hug.

“Hi Mads, how was your day?” he asked. That led to her talking a mile a minute, not leaving a single detail out about her day.

The timer starts to ring and you walk over to the stove to turn off the burner. You stirred the hot pot of jambalaya, the smell making your mouth water.

You poked your head back into the living room, “You two. Table. Now please,” you hollered over their conversation. Their voices carried into the dining room and Steve helped Maddie into her booster seat. You sat her plate and a cup of watered down apple juice in front of her. Bringing in yours and Steve's plates, you all sat down together and continued to chat over your meal. Every so often either you or Steve had to remind her to finish chewing before talking.

After finishing up dinner, you took Maddie up for a bath and wrapped her hair up for the night. She still had about an hour left before her bedtime so you brought her back down to finish her movie.

When you got back to the kitchen, Steve was putting away the clean and dried dishes. After putting the last of them away you took ahold of his hands and pulled him into you.

“You didn’t have to clean up, I could’ve done it.”

“You were already getting Mads ready for bed, It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged. You smiled, guiding him back to the living room where you were gonna watch the rest of the movie until you saw Maddie knocked out on the couch, soft snores escaping from her. Letting go of your hand, Steve picked the sleeping girl up while you turned off the tv and all the lights then you two walked her up the stairs. You pulled back the sheets and Steve laid her down. You tucked her in with her bunny, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

Retreating from her room as quietly as possible, you two made it back to your room and began getting yourselves ready for bed. Slipping underneath the cool sheets, you and Steve settled in together. “Thank you for coming over, I really do appreciate it,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Of course,” he returned the kiss to one of your hands, “I need the practice anyway.”

“Practice for…?” you asked. Steve pulled you into his chest, his hand lightly gripping your hip.

“The six kids I dreamt of running around our house. You in a pretty little dress baking fucking cinnamon rolls with our girls while the boys wrestle in the living room.”

“What if the boys wanna bake and the girls wanna wrestle?” you smirked, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as our kids,” he took your hand and kissed your bare ring finger, “and my wife are happy and healthy.”

You felt the heat building in your face as a smile played on your lips. “Mm, being acknowledged as ‘Mrs. Harrington’ does sound pretty great.”

“Hell yeah it does, sweetheart,” he kissed you deeply. A knock on the door forced you to break the kiss off sooner than you would’ve liked. The door opened and Maddie poked her head into the room.

“You okay Mads?” you sat up.

“Can I sleep in here?” she rubbed her eye, still sleepy.

“Of course, baby girl,” you pulled the sheets back so she could crawl in between the two of you. Getting her settled, she quickly fell back asleep, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms. You adjusted her bonnet and slightly adjusted the comforter, knowing she hates having her face covered. When you finally looked back at Steve his eyes were already on you.

“I love you,” he mouthed so as not to wake the sleeping child between the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied.

Soon all of your breaths evened out and you all slept through the night. Even with a four year old beating you up in her sleep.

[omoghouls]

‘It’s quite alright, darling. There’s no one around to see. You can let go now. You mustn’t hurt yourself like this. Don’t worry about a thing, your clothes can be washed, and we’ll rinse away the puddle. No one has to know but us, hm? Just relax and…ah, there you are. That’s it. Doesn’t that feel better? Oh, there’s no need for tears, my dearest. You’re doing wonderfully. …oh darling, don’t try to stop yourself now. I know you aren’t empty so soon. Now now, I can see you fidgeting still. You still need to let the rest out. You’re already wet, dearest. Just relax…yes, just like that. You’re doing wonderfully. I have you, darling. Listen to your body, and be sure you get every drop out. Oh you poor thing, you really did have to go, didn’t you? You mustn’t wait so long next time. …are you done, darling? Are you sure this time? Very good. I’m so proud of you. Now, let me help you wash up. We’ll have a nice bath and get you some warm dry clothes, and you’ll be right as rain!’

"There we are. It can be such a difficult task at times to listen to our bodies, hmm? I'm proud of you that you allowed yourself the much needed release, and I would not want to see my poor flower hurting themselves for the sake of saving face. There, there, the bath is drawn, and I have been saving this most lovely collection of bath salts for just the perfect occasion. And, today feels like the right time♡"

AAAAAAA sof and caring Emmrich my BRLOVED AAAAA

[sysboxes]

fav sets of pronouns (including any type. So “traditional”, neos, xenos, archeo, etc)? Either in general or some alters favourites?

Doesn’t have to be pronouns you use

Sof/Sofs/Soft/Softs/Softself

Sof/Soft/Soft/Softs/Softself

Shy/Hyr/Hyrs/Hyrs/Hyrself

Hx/Hxm/Hxs/Hxs/Hxmself

Hy/Hym/Hys/Hys/Hymself

Shey/Sher/Shers/Shers/Sherself

Love/Loves/Lovie/Lovies/Lovieself

Nuggie/Nuggie/Nuggies/Nuggies/Nuggieself

Moss/Moss/Mosses/Mosses/Mossself

Li/Lich/Lichen/Lichens/Lichenself

Mo/Moch/Mocha/Mochas/Mochaself

Mocha/Mocha/Mochas/Mochas/Mochaself

-Mod Weeping ❤️ (there’s more but there’s some)

he/him, 他/他(when using mandarin/hanzi, pinyin is Tā/Tā， xi/xer, rrom/rroma, 🫁/🫀/🥩s/🔪self , tx/tex/texs/texas, lux/ray/luxs/rayself /triassic/jurrassic/cretaceous/paleo honestly? dumb/bitch that shit EATS oh and tyranno/saurusrex

-mod Luxray

fae/faer

Star/Stars/Starry/Starself

ink/inky/inkys/inkyself

poem/poems/poemself

moon/moons/moonself

crim/crimson/crimsons/crimsonself

sta/static/staticy/staticself

die/dice/dices/diceself

-Mod Starry 🌌

nae/nym/nyr/nyrs/nymself

and idk the full set but i know some people who unironically use nor/mal and i love that for them

-mod wonder

Ngl I really like it/its pronouns.

- Mod Avon 📖

hm maybe hy/hymn/hys? There’s something about them that I find pretty neat I guess

- Mod morpho 🦋

[postsofbabel]

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[starcanwrecked-confessions]

Idk why people are suprised about Dan & Donna or Melissa (Pre HM) being loved. Fans here have been attaching onto small/background characters for ages. Fuck we LOVED Peter before he was known as Pete and was just "hot chocolate boy". People used to have Danny and Sof in fics all the time. People ship Gary Goldstein and Man in a Hurry. Before npmd, Cineplex Teen was imagined to be Pete's friend. And some people ship Dan & Donna and some people loved Melissa before HM, particularly ppl really mostly liked when all we had was just tgwdlm. That hasn't stopped either, currently people love Trevor, Ruldoph and Brooke. People just like small/background characters, probably because you kinda just make them whatever you want for the most part so there's so little known about them.

~~~

[itsukimiu]

Yuzuru Kise SR: Treating Wounds with Care

OHHHH THE PICTURE IS SO LOW QUALITY LMAOOOO google docs ver here! Translated by Tsukimi (@rurumiiii) Proofread by Aca, Dimi, and Myun!

Part One

???: —ACHOOOO!

Ito: (Huh…?)

It was some time after work hours had ended. A loud sneeze echoed through the empty office, though I should’ve been the only person in the room.

Ito: (That sound just now… Was that—)

Ito: (Rare-kun?)

Ito: Did you catch a cold…? 

Rare: Good boy, Rare-kun! Attaboy ☆

Ito: (Hm… He looks fine, but I’m still worried.)

Yuzuru: Oh, Yashiro-san. You’re looking at Rare so intently… Is there something wrong? 

As I stood troubled in front of the cage, Kise-san, who had been gone for a while, returned. He was holding a large bag I didn’t recognize. I was curious about what was inside, however…

Ito: (Rare-kun’s condition is more important right now, so I’ll ask about the bag later.)

Ito: You’ve come at a good time, Kise-san. Actually, just now—

Rare: ACHOOOOOO!

Ito: Ah, another huge sneeze…

Ito: (But that one just now sounded oddly human.)

Yuzuru: Ohh, right. About that… 

Yuzuru: Yesterday, Urara came to the office and kept sneezing. It seemed like he’d come down with a cold. 

Rare: ACHOOO! ‘Ts not a big deal. 

Ito: I see… So he’s imitating Manami-san.

I felt a wave of relief knowing that Rare-kun was fine. However—

Ito: Is Manami-san doing okay?

Yuzuru: He had a slight fever, so we had him go back to the dorms early yesterday.

Yuzuru: I messaged him this morning, and he is “all good”.

Yuzuru: But I’m still worried, so I was planning to check on him on the way back home. 

Ito: Then, is that large bag…

Yuzuru: I borrowed the cafe’s kitchen to make some food for him as a get-well present.

Yuzuru: I made things that are easy on the stomach and seemed nutritious. Before I knew it, I ended up making quite a lot.

Ito: (I see. No wonder it’s so big.)

Ito: In that case, I will take care of locking up the office. Please go ahead and check on Manami-san as soon as possible, Kise-san.

Yuzuru: But since it’s already gotten so late, letting you stay for overtime is—

Ito: I am almost done with my work, so please do not worry. All that’s left for me to do is to clean up. 

Yuzuru: …Then, I’ll take you up on the offer. I’ll leave it to you to lock up the office. 

Just as Kise-san was getting ready to leave, the office door opened.

Ito: Manami-san?

Part Two

Urara: Hah?

Urara: Don’t just dawdle around this late. Go home. 

Ito: I’m sorry, I’ll head home right away. However, I heard that you got sick—

Urara: Don’t start treating me like a patient.

Rare: ‘Ts not a big deal!

Urara: Don’t say my line before I do.

Yuzuru: Are you really okay? I told you it was fine to take a day off to rest.

Urara: Hah? The cleaning from yesterday’s not done.

Yuzuru: I was about to tell you, it’s fine, you don’t have to worry about it—

Urara: The hell do you mean ‘s fine.

Yuzuru: !

Yuzuru: Sorry Urara… I worded it badly. The cleaning was just finished by Roka-san and I.

Yuzuru: I wasn’t clear with my wording. I’m really sorry. 

Urara: …Tch. Shut up, you’re apologizing too much. 

Urara: If it’s all done, I’m leaving. 

Yuzuru: Ah, wait. Then take these home and eat them. 

As Manami-san turned to leave the office, Kise-san held out the bag to him. 

Urara: The hell? You’re always doing unnecessary stu— So fucking heavy!

Urara: You made way too fucking much! 

Yuzuru: It’s important that you recover properly, so you need to get enough nutrition. 

Yuzuru: I’ve packed everything into storage containers, so at least take home whatever you think you can eat. 

Urara: …

Urara: If I just leave it in the fridge, I can still eat it tomorrow all the same.

Ito: (Ah…)

Manami-san, who had been so worked up just moments ago, accepted the entire bag with a solemn expression. Watching him, I realized that this was his way of showing gratitude. 

Yuzuru: You’ve just recovered, so don’t push yourself. 

Urara: You’re meddling now?

Yuzuru: Yeah, I’m ‘meddling’.

Urara: …Shut up.

Kise-san’s eyes softened slightly.

Ito: Manami-san, please take care. 

Urara: So annoying. 

Manami-san left the office, acting as he usually does.

Ito: Looking at him, he seemed.

Yuzuru: …I feel a little relieved. 

Yuzuru: I was worried since I thought Urara would hide it even if he wasn’t feeling well. 

I’m glad to see that he’s really doing okay.

Ito: (Kise-san looks genuinely relieved.)

Ito: I hope he gets plenty of proper rest. Manami-san looks like an honest person, after all. 

Yuzuru: …!

Yuzuru: I’m thankful you think that way of him. 

Yuzuru: I’ve mentioned this before, but Urara behaves like that with everyone, so he’s easily misunderstood. 

Yuzuru: But he does have an honest side, and surprisingly, he’s quite reliable. 

Ito: Yes, I think I understand what you mean. 

Ito: We haven’t spent much time together, so I feel like I might make him angry if I say I understand him. 

Yuzuru: I’m glad… to see you perceive Urara without any preconceptions, Yashiro-san.

Ito: Me too.

Ito: I’m glad that I’m able to work with someone who can think that way like you.

Yuzuru: Then the feeling is mutual. 

Yuzuru: …Somehow, it feels a bit embarrassing to say these things out loud. 

Today, Aporia felt as comfortable as always.  I couldn’t help but feel that it must be thanks to Kise-san.