#when my commissions take like a month or more to complete

[livelaughlou]

show me something the rest never see

heyhey! so thanks to my gals @firewasabeast and @champagnetommy, who, when I messaged them to see if writing yet another sick!Tommy fic was too much, since I've written quite a few, answered with a "no of course not" I went ahead and wrote this. It's inspired by my not feeling well the last few days and it's over 3k words of pure self indulgence lol. Hope you guys like it. I'm gonna post the whole thing here now because I was having a little trouble with Ao3. I'll put it there as soon as it lets me.

title from Unpack Your Heart by Philip Philips

bucktommy - words: 3.3k - rating: teen - complete

cw: mentions of certain stomach issues that come with having food poisoning.

“Evan.”

Buck hears the voice in his sleepy haze but doesn’t register it, not really. But then his name comes through again, the voice recognizable and beloved, if sounding a little off, and Buck opens his eyes with a start when it occurs to him that if Tommy’s waking him up, then there’s something wrong.

“Hey,” he says, and when he gets a glimpse of Tommy’s pale face, he sits up quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to kill Lucy,” Tommy declares weakly. “She insisted on trying that new food truck.”

“Oh, babe,” Buck laments. He gets a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand on Tommy’s side of the bed and sees that it’s 5:30, an hour before Tommy’s alarm was going to go off for his shift. He wraps his arms around him, and Tommy comes willingly. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Buck can tell that he feels a little warm, but it’s not worrying.

“99.8,” Tommy mumbles against his neck, where Buck thinks he’s working to build a home. He’ll never get over this, he thinks, this Tommy who not only asks for comfort now, eight months into their second round of couple-dom, but he demands it like it’s his right these days, and Buck revels in it.

“So a tiny fever,” Buck says, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Throwing up?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says miserably. “And. Well. You know.”

Buck grimaces in sympathy. “Got it. I can run out and get some—”

But he’s interrupted when Tommy’s phone begins vibrating.

“Who the hell is calling you at 5:30 the in the morning?” Buck wonders as Tommy reluctantly leaves from his place tucked into Buck as far as he can go and reaches for the phone clattering on the nightstand.

“The devil,” Tommy answers darkly and Buck snorts a laugh as he answers the call, putting it on speaker.

“In my defense,” Lucy’s miserable voice sounds over the line, not even bothering with a ‘hello.’ “It was Daphne’s fault.”

“Oh sure, blame the probie,” Tommy says acerbically, then his face pales even further and he shoves the phone at Buck. “Talk to Evan, I gotta go puke.”

“Yikes,” she says, sounding one second away from throwing up herself. Buck takes the phone off speaker so she doesn’t have to hear the tell-tale sounds of retching come from their en-suite bathroom. “I was actually calling to both apologize and let him know that the entire Harbor A-shift is out of commission.”

“Oh wow,” Buck answers in awe. “When’s the last time that’s happened?”

“I have no idea,” Lucy says. “I didn’t get too far into it with Hannigan, the B-shift Captain, before I had to run to the bathroom again myself. I think they’re calling for volunteers. Any of our pilots from B and C shift are being asked to come in if they can, and they’re pulling other firefighters from other houses for the ground crew.”

As if on cue, Buck’s phone goes off on his nightstand. “Yeah, I think I’m getting that call.”

“Good luck, Buckley,” Lucy says, then suddenly she’s talking fast. “Gottagobye.”

Buck can’t help but laugh a little as she hangs up and reaches for his own phone. He’s just telling Hannigan that he needs to stay home and help with his sick partner when Tommy makes his way out of the bathroom. Buck tries not to ogle him too hard, since he’s removed his shirt at some point, so skin and muscle are on display. What can he say, he’s obsessed? Tommy, though, looks even more miserable than he had been even ten minutes ago, and Buck just wants to wrap him in blankets and wave some sort of magic wand to make him feel better. Too bad that’s not a relationship perk.

Hannigan is sighing. “I figured as much, but I thought I’d try anyway. We only need two more people to cover, but I’m sure I’ll find them.”

Tommy collapses on his side of the bed before scooching over to lay his head in Buck’s lap. He mumbles something that Buck can’t quite hear as he buries his face into the top of Buck’s thigh.

“Hang on, Ma’am,” he says to Hannigan before slipping a hand into Tommy’s hair, urging him to turn his face so he can hear what he’s saying. “What, baby?”

“Go,” Tommy says. “You’ve always wanted to work over there for a day right? See how we work? You’d love it.”

He really, really would, but he also doesn’t want to leave Tommy like this. “But—”

“I’ll be okay,” Tommy says.

Buck’s already mentally running through who he could call to come sit with him. “Are you sure?”

He can hear Hannigan’s voice, and he brings the phone next to his mouth. “If it helps, Buckley, Ravi Panikkar just agreed to fill the other spot and it looks like I might only need you for a half a day, maybe more. If we can manage it, I’ll let you go as early as I can.”

Tommy nods with a soft little smile, and Buck leans awkwardly down to kiss his forehead. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

Hannigan breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. All the houses are a little strapped, so this helps a lot. I appreciate it. Shift starts at 8.”

“Got it.”

They say goodbye and hang up, and Buck immediately opens the food delivery app, putting in an order of Gatorade, tea and other simple things that can be used to calm nausea. Tommy only barely registers what he’s saying when he tells him, but the delivery looks like it will get here before Buck has to leave, so he thinks it will be okay.

He gently shifts Tommy off of him and onto his side of the bed, and Tommy goes with barely a fight as he dozes. Buck takes a moment to just stare at him, his pale, pallid face, a little clammy, curls in total disarray, and Buck thinks he’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

He thinks quickly and opens a specific text chain, sending a whole series of messages, before making his way out of bed and into the shower. When he gets out, he smiles when he sees that Tommy has somehow fully migrated to Buck’s side of the bed in his sleep, snuggling into Buck’s pillow. He moves over to tuck the blankets around him a little tighter before getting ready for the day.

***

The next time Tommy wakes, the sun is shining through the blinds, his stomach feels just a little calmer and there’s a soft knock on the front door.

He groans and sits up, waits to decide if his stomach is going to cooperate and it seems like it is, so he counts that as a win as another knock sounds.

“Coming!” he hollers, looking down at himself. He’s wearing a pair of Evan’s worn sweats and an old 118 t-shirt that, really, could be his or Evan’s at this point, and decides that he’s as presentable as he’s going to get.

When he finally gets to the door and opens it, he blinks in surprise, then he quickly realizes that he really shouldn’t be shocked at all.

“Hey, Tommy,” Bobby says brightly as he shifts the paper grocery bag in his arms. “I hear you’re having a rough morning.”

“Little bit,” Tommy says. “Evan called you, didn’t he?”

“A rather frantic series of texts,” Bobby confirms as Tommy steps aside to let him through the door. “But he also told me to give it a couple of hours because you’d fallen back to sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you after all.”

Tommy waves that away. “It’s no big deal. I probably need to try eating something."

Bobby holds up his paper bag. “Good timing, I brought the ingredients for a broth that will settle your stomach. Thought I’d make it up here so you can have it nice and fresh.”

The wave of gratitude toward both Bobby and Evan in that moment almost takes him out at the knees. “That’s….thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Bobby sets the bag down on the counter and gets to taking everything out. “It’s no problem. Also, it seems as though, since I survived a super-strain of CCHF, I’m some sort of expert on these things. At least, that’s what Buck thinks.”

Tommy laughs fondly. “Yeah. I don’t have the heart to tell him that that’s not how that works.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knows,” Bobby says with a soft smile. “But the close call scared him so I let him have it.”

It happened almost five months ago now, but Tommy still gets that pang in his chest at how close it was. Evan still has nightmares sometimes. So, yeah, Tommy will let him have whatever makes him feel better about it.

“Me too,” he answers.

Bobby shoots him another smile and says, “Soup pot? I know Buck has at least two.”

“Three now,” Tommy admits with a laugh. “I had one when he moved in. He uses them all at different times, says they each have their purpose.”

“They do,” Bobby confirms.

Tommy will happily take their word for it. “The cabinet to the left of the sink. Anything I can do?”

“Take a seat,” Bobby insists. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He does feel a little woozy again, so he sits at the little dining room table and watches Bobby work. They chat idly and soon enough the kitchen smells amazing.

Or it would if Tommy wasn’t going too….shit, no no, not now.

“Bobby, gotta-” he gets out before he covers his mouth with his hand and knocks the chair over in his haste to stand up.

“Go!” Bobby says, and Tommy is out of there.

***

Buck is actually having the time of his life. If he ever wanted to transfer from the 118, even though he can’t think of a situation why he would, he would want to transfer here. He’s seen it before, but that’s only been in bursts on a scene, this is different, getting to spend a few hours watching the ground crews and pilots work seamlessly together. He knows Tommy’s trained for both, and often works those shifts that are consecutive, but he also knows that Tommy’s dream is to be in the air as often as he can.

“So,” he says as they come back from a grocery run. He’s promised a pot of chili, and the Harbor B-Shift team, which seems to mostly live on takeout, is all for it. “I need embarrassing Tommy stories. I know he’s A-shift, but you guys have to give me something.”

He starts to get his ingredients ready as Graham, one of the senior B-shift pilots, laughs, sounding gleeful about it, and Buck grins because jackpot.

“Oh man,” Ravi says, catching it. “This is gonna be good.”

Graham is just in the middle of a story about Tommy and a little old lady named Mildred that Buck is going to tease him about at the earliest opportunity when he feels his phone go off in his pocket.

Peering at the chili to make sure it’s good on its own, he pulls it out, relieved to see a text from Tommy. He’d sent him one about an hour ago to check on him, about the time that Bobby should have shown up.

Tommy: Sorry, baby, not really paying attention to my phone. I miss you. Also, we have to move. Preferably out of the country.

Buck laughs a little, confused and amused and decides he’s going to call to get the full story.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Tommy answers right away. “Sorry again, feeling out of it, and Bobby was here. Kind of forgot to look at my phone.”

“It’s fine,” Buck answers. “Is Bobby still there?”

“No, he just left,” Tommy answers. “He made me soup.”

“I know,” Buck says, stirring the chili. “He mentioned it when I asked if he would come sit with you. Why are we moving?”

Tommy sighs. “Because I thought my stomach was okay. But when the soup started making the house smell good, it decided it wasn’t.”

Buck winces in sympathy. “Oh God.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “I just managed to make it to the spare bathroom, but barely. There was no way to disguise what was happening in there.”

“Oh, babe,” Buck groans with a little laugh. “He knows you’re sick. He’s not going to care.”

“I know, but he’s practically your father...and…”

Tommy pauses and Buck looks at Ravi, mouthing, will you watch this? while pointing to the pot, and Ravi nods, so Buck can duck out of the kitchen and into a little hallway.

“Talk to me.”

Buck can practically picture him biting the inside of his cheek as he answers, a little nervously, “It was...it was really nice. Of course I wanted you here with me, but...he made me soup, talked to me about...I don’t know, just my life? And this all happened after the...incident. We haven’t done that since I was at the 118 and he was the first person I came out to before I transferred. He told me...he told me that you and I are good for each other and…”

Buck can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes at Tommy’s open vulnerability. He knows Tommy thinks of what they could have lost had that second antidote not been located. “And what, baby?”

Tommy clears his throat. “He said he’s proud of me.”

Buck knows how that must have felt. “He is, of the person you’ve become.”

“It was nice,” Tommy says again, voice soft. “It felt like having a dad who cares, you know? And I’m closer to him in age than you are.”

Having heard from Tommy about what his dad is like, Buck does know. “I get it,” he answers tenderly. “I’m proud of you, too, you know.”

“You are?” Tommy asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“You woke me up to tell me you were sick this morning,” Buck responds. “You’re telling me how Bobby made you feel today. You’re being honest with me.”

“Oh,” Tommy says. “Well, I just…you were right, when we got back together. This is never going to work if I don’t let you in, too.”

“Exactly.” Buck knows Tommy can’t see it, but he smiles anyway. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Tommy answers, voice dripping with affection. “Are they keeping you the whole 12?”

“No,” Buck answers. “I think I’ll be able to leave around 4. I’m currently making chili. Also, Graham told me about Mildred. You should have told me about your little girlfriend, babe.”

Tommy groans, and Buck laughs. “God, I did not think it through when I told you to go ahead and cover over there.”

“You did not,” Buck says with another laugh. “How’s your stomach?”

“Hanging in there,” Tommy says. “It’s like embarrassing myself in front of the man we both see as a father-figure cured my food poisoning.”

Buck laughs. “I’m sure that was it. Look, I’ll be home soon. Sip on your soup, get some rest.”

“We’ll cuddle when you get home?” Tommy asks hopefully, and Buck wants to kiss him so bad.

“Yeah,” Buck confirms. “We’ll cuddle when I get home.”

“Looking forward to it,” Tommy says then it’s silent for just a moment before he mutters, “Really?”

“Go!”

Tommy hangs up and Buck goes to check on the chili and Ravi, thinking he’ll have to make sure to really disinfect both bathrooms and his boyfriend when he gets the first chance.

***

Tommy’s managed to drift off on the couch when he feels a hand on his forehead. He opens his eyes and smiles when he sees Evan sitting next to his hip.

“Hey,” he mumbles, and Evan leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Hi,” Evan whispers back. “How are you feeling?”

“Meh. Time’s it?”

“Just after 5.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, attempting to sit up. Evan adjusts himself to grab Tommy’s arms to help, and soon enough, he’s pulled into Evan’s chest, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’ve gone two whole hours without a trip to the bathroom.”

“Yay!” Evan cheers gently, pressing a kiss to the side of Tommy’s head. “Have you tried some more broth?”

“No,” Tommy admits. “Kind of afraid to.”

“You should. Come on, I’ll heat some up, make you some tea.”

Tommy’s stomach doesn’t roll at the thought, so he shrugs. “Sure.”

“Then how about a bath?” Evan continues, pulling him up. “We have plenty of that bubble bath you like—”

“Evan,” Tommy groans. “I’m 40 years old, it’s not bubble bath.”

“Tommy,” Evan says patiently as they get to the kitchen. “You put it in the bath and it makes bubbles. What else am I supposed to call it?”

Tommy supposes he’s got him there, so he gives in, seats himself at the same chair he had when Bobby was here, and watches Evan move about their kitchen, making soup and tea and chattering about his day.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Tommy says once they sit down to eat. He manages a few sips of the broth and more of the tea, but it’s better than it was, so he’ll take it.

“I can see why you transferred there,” Evan answers as he sips his own tea. Tommy had insisted he make himself something else, but when he’d admitted that the smell of anything else might make him nauseous, Evan had insisted the chili he’d had at Harbor was enough for now, and the soup would just be a nice afterthought. “It’s a really great environment.”

“I needed it after Gerrard,” Tommy admits. “No matter what Bobby did, it just had too much baggage attached to it.”

“That makes sense,” Evan says honestly, then he motions to his liquid dinner. “How’s the eating?”

Tommy looks down at the bowl. “I don’t think I can do more broth. Might hang onto the tea.”

“Okay,” Evan says, and he gets up to clear the dishes away. Just as he goes to grab Tommy’s bowl, Tommy snags his wrist gently, tapping his finger against his pulse point, the feeling almost more reassuring than the soup was.

Evan regards him, tilts his head in that way Tommy loves. “You good? Well, as good as you can be?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says softly. “Thank you. For covering at work today. For sending me Bobby. For coming home to take care of me.”

Evan smiles and crouches down in front of him, setting his dishes back on the table. “None of that is a hardship. You’re my favorite person. My...well, my person. I want to do what I can for you.”

“I know,” Tommy says, cupping his face in his hands. “I love you so much.”

Evan’s face is all soft affection. “I love you too.”

“I wanna kiss you, but I probably don’t taste terribly good.”

Evan laughs, leans forward, and plants a kiss on Tommy’s mouth. It’s light, like one you’d give someone when you’re on your way out the door, but it’s enough.

“Tastes fine to me,” Evan quips, and Tommy loves him.

He watches Evan put their dishes in the sink, then he comes over, holds a hand out. Tommy takes it without hesitation and lets himself be pulled up and led to the master suite, where Evan sits him down on the toilet to turn the bathtub on. He undresses them both slowly before helping Tommy and his achy body in when it’s ready, slipping in behind him.

Tommy sags against his chest, his head on Evan’s shoulder with a contented sound. Evan rubs a hand in gentle circles on Tommy’s stomach, which is so soothing that Tommy’s sure he could slip off to sleep without any effort.

Evan, of course, must sense this. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

Tommy plants a kiss to Evan’s jaw. “I know.”

[bbeelzemon]

i moved out of my parents house over two and a half years ago and im really only just now realizing that there are people (like my partner!) who might genuinely Actively Prefer when i am happily working away at my art, instead of spending my every waking moment worried that im not doing enough chores first to be 'allowed' to go work on my art.

as opposed to my parents, who would fairly often interrupt my drawing time to ask me to do things and then say "Welll i mean its not like you're doing anything else right now, you're just playing on your computer"

[starsiide]

if an artist says their turnaround time is usually a week and that they should be done with your specific commission by the end of the week, then goes nearly three weeks without saying something, is it OK to ask them for an update on your commission? I'm a bit torn on whether I should wait a whole month

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[catmask]

meowdy! looks like our move to a new apartment is not going to be so peaceful after all - our old apartment is currently leaking sewage water and we have to evacuate four people and two cats! donations are appreciated, but im opening an emergency sale + commissions too! (more under the cut)

KO-FI SHOP SALE + EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

DISCOUNT CODE IS 'LEAK' IN ALL CAPS

so for this section, i'm going to break down everything thats happening + when things will come off hiatus! i'm hoping that everything will be set up in the new place by JUNE 1st, so that is the hard deadline i'm setting to start all functions up again as usual.

WHAT'S HAPPENING?

two years ago, my fiance and i were offered emergency housing when we (very suddenly and tragically) became the parents to his orphaned little sister. both of us are only 26 and had to move 8 hours from where we had been living at the time, so the housing we had was the best 2 people with few connections and no established jobs could find within a single weeks notice.

since then, we have been saving up and working to finally have a proper place to live. and we did so! at the beginning of this month we found an apartment where all of us can move to. we have a friend staying with us who is helping with the move as well.

i really wanted this move to be seamless - basically, you wouldn't have had to know it was happening. we were going to pay double rent for two months while i would stream and work from the old place, and begin sleeping at the new one. its expensive, but i didn't want my real life to trouble anyone here.

unfortunately this is no longer possible. the old building we were staying at had a pipe begin to leak, then eventually flood our entire apartment. this has been a reoccurring problem the landlord hasn't seemed to find a solution for, and it's led to a biohazard where we were planning on slowly moving from - leading to an immediate and emergency evacuation for the safety of everyone in our family.

SO... STREAMING?

will be back online as soon as possible! we moved out our tech as soon as we could due to fear of water damage, and it seems like everything is A-OK. we just need to rebuild my desk and sound proof the new room, so this will probaaabbly be back online within a week? im just going to take the week off to make sure everything is set up and there are no bugs. (digital. digital bugs.)

LAIKA'S COMET?

for the sake of not losing my buffer crazystyle, i'm pausing laika's until JUNE 1st. but i'm going to post one more page right now to leave you guys on a cliffhanger because i think it's funny. (the ko-fi will still update as regular as i finish pages! tbh, in between moving i am going to be drawing.... a LOT... it's like my only self soothing activity i have access to right now </3)

SHOP STUFF?

you basically won't notice a difference. orders go out every 2 weeks anyway, and literally the day before this happened we completely caught up to date. that + all of the goods we had were already moved over because (similar to the tech) we were worried about water damage, so nothing will be yucky... (i dont know if i can say the same about our furniture or clothes ; _ ; )

FINAL NOTES

while we did manage to get out with emergency bags and a weeks worth of outfits + things to sleep on + cook with, we have no real means of knowing the extent of damage until we bring things out of the apartment and clean them here. thankfully *most* things appear undamaged, its largely the flooring and the smell that are unliveable... walking through puddles of sewage water and having to wear a mask to breathe is not really liveable conditions.

however, considering this move is sped up way faster than planned, and i wont be able to work during it - any sales or donations are hugely appreciated. ; w ;

i'm sorry to ask for help like this, and its only if you are comfortable to do so!!! i can work hard, so i don't mind doing a little extra art to make money, this is just if you feel okay to help out and would like to.

if you read this far, thank you so much - hopefully next time i will return with good news - and maybe a new apartment tour...?

[lipglossanon]

Pound Puppy

Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!reader

A little more savory tier commission from anon 💜

word count: 2340

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid au, hybrid reader, bestie Claire making an appearance, praise kink, oral (m receiving), shower sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, piss kink, marking

proofread

Leon walks by the same alley on his way home. Unfortunately for him, the parking for his neighborhood is a complete crap shoot, so he always ends up parking at the end of the street to walk to his house. It’s a pain in his ass, but until work cuts down on his hours, he’s stuck with it.

He doesn’t see you every time he passes the alleyway, but, now and again, he’ll catch sight of you hunkered down, tinkering with something in your hands. You're a hybrid, practically a pup from what he can tell. You don’t seem to have a collar or an owner. Dirt smudges your face and hands, and your clothes look worn and ratty. Leon feels a bit bad leaving you out there, but you always run off when you notice him at the lip of the alley. 

He mentions all of this offhandedly on the phone one afternoon with Claire, who throws a complete fit. She takes the time to drive over that weekend and spends hours coaxing you out of that dingy and dirty alleyway. Your hesitant, which Leon can understand; he and Claire are total strangers. 

Claire brings you into his house, and to his surprise, with the intention to keep you at his place. 

“She’d probably be more comfortable with you,” he hisses to the red-haired woman once you’re out of earshot. “And besides, you’re the one who talked her out of that place.”

“Yes, I did, Leon,” Claire rolls her eyes at him. “But this neighborhood is familiar to her. I’m not going to force her to leave the only place she can kind of call home. Suck it up.”

Leon throws his hands up and leaves Claire to help get you settled after giving you a bath and clean clothes. Before leaving, Leon’s supposed friend gives him a quick rundown of the information she was able to glean. 

She ticks off each point by throwing up a finger. “She’s in her 20s. She’s afraid of water. She has no family. And her last owner dumped her as soon as she quit being a cutesy puppy.”

He frowns at that last bit, but Claire pushes on giving him your name and how long you’ve been a stray. 

“So, just be nice and keep a routine until she adapts. Call me if you need me!”

And with that, Leon watches her leave out of his front door and climb onto her Harley Davidson. After slipping on her helmet, Claire gives him a little wave while he sees her off from his front porch. He tosses up a lazy two-finger salute, and she revs her bike, then peels off down his street. 

Sighing, he walks back into his house. Looking up, Leon sees you hovering in the living room, biting your nails nervously. You fidget in place, toes curled into the rug while you tug on an old shirt of his, the hem fraying. 

Leon gestures to the couch. “You’re welcome to watch the TV. Uh, the cable should be set up.”

You cock your head, soft ears flopping with the movement. “I can sit on the couch? At my old place, I wasn’t allowed on the furniture.”

Leon’s lips twitch, but he keeps his face neutral. “Yeah, I don’t mind what you do as long as you don’t make a mess of the place. Just be courteous and clean up after yourself.”

Nodding, your tail wags slowly. “Okay, thanks, Mister.”

“Leon,” he scratches a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Just call me Leon.”

You nod, a small smile crossing your face. “Alright. Thanks, Leon.”

He keeps you at arms length, but you’re slowly starting to grow on him. Being greeted at the door when he gets home is nice. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone around—another presence taking up space in his home. It’s not stifling like he thought it would be; you’re sweet, and Leon’s realizing he needs sweetness in his life.

From that weird afternoon of you moving in all the way until now, Leon has lived with you for a couple of months. He’s noticed you’re more cuddly and have even taken to sneaking into his room to sleep with him. You’ve wormed your way into his life, and he’s all the happier for it.

He bathes you every night, helping you stay calm and cool while he washes your ears and tail. At first, it was all very clinical and quick, but now he lets you relax and take your time. It’s helped tremendously with your fear of the water. However, it’s also led to a dilemma. 

There’s no denying; you’re a very pretty pup. Leon tries his best, but he can’t help but sneak glances at your naked tits and cute pussy. He’s able to keep it under wraps, wearing jeans to help hide any stiffness he may develop. His plan works for a while—until he ends up staying late one night. 

You greet him at the door like usual, tail wagging and ears perked up. He kicks off his shoes and ruffles your ears. 

“Bath time?” You smile, tugging on his sleeve.

Leon glances at his watch. “Shit. Yeah, sorry work ran long, sweetheart. We’ll get you your bath so you can go to bed.”

You clasp your hands around his bicep, nuzzling into his arm while he guides you over to the bathroom. Once inside, you stay glued to him, watching with wide eyes as the tub fills up with water. As soon as it’s ready, Leon turns to let you undress and climb over the lip. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it over the towel hook on the door.

He moves back over to you naked and wet in the tub. Too little, too late. Leon remembers that he’s just wearing slacks and not his usual jeans. Cock thickening, he quickly kneels on the mat next to the tub, keeping his waist out of your line of sight. You smile at him, titling your head so he can help scrub your ears.

Leon listens as you tell him about your day, asking questions about his—your voice soothing and soft. You dip your head back to rinse off the soap, and as you raise back up, he watches the suds trickle down your neck across the swell of your breasts. Shaking your head, you sling water from your hair and ears, giggling when Leon calls out a lighthearted hey.

Reaching in, he splashes you, making you giggle harder, splashing him back. You smack the water harder than intended, and a deluge covers Leon, soaking his shirt and pants. 

“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you raise up onto your knees, peering over the side of the tub to see how much of a mess you made. 

“It’s okay,” Leon blinks water from his eyes, then freezes in place when he feels a warm hand pet across his bulge. 

Wiping a hand across his face, his blue eyes warily take in your expression, but what he finds is nothing but interest. You rub his cock through his slacks, and he throbs, making you giggle—tail wagging happily. 

“I just thought my nose was getting mixed up,” you murmur, eyes dropping down to his bulge. “You always smelled turned on.”

He groans when you squeeze him gently. 

Biting your lip, you whisper, “It always got me really wet.”

“What a naughty little puppy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to grope your wet tits. Whining, you arch your back, pressing your breasts more firmly into his palms. 

He massages the soft peaks, fingers digging into your breasts and squeezing. Dragging his fingertips around your areola, he pinches your nipples until you whimper, thighs rubbing together underneath the water. Letting go of your tits, he leans forward to pull the stopper on the bath. 

Pouting, you gaze at him as he stands up. “Is it time to get out?”

“No, we’re gonna take a shower together, sweetheart,” he murmurs, flicking on the water before undressing and stepping into the tub. 

The cool spray hits his back, making him shiver. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, and you lean forward to lick across the tip. Groaning, Leon’s hips buck forward, cockhead grazing your cheek and smearing precum across your skin. 

“Pup—“

His sentence cuts off with a moan when you open your mouth and begin lathing your tongue across his dick. 

“Taste so good,” you pant, tail a blur behind you, ears relaxed against your head. “Can I lick you whenever I want?”

“Fuck,” Leon rubs your soft ears. “Yeah, pup, you can lick my cock as much as you want.”

Humming, you let your tongue lap at his tip before nosing your way down to his balls. He tips his head back, water wetting his hair as your hot little mouth sucks and kisses his squishy sac. You smear your own spit across your face, tongue bathing his balls in your drool. 

“Come on, sweetheart, suck my dick,” Leon coos, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth back up to his leaking cock.

“Mmm hmm,” you sigh, eyes half lidded, while Leon feeds his cock past your lips. 

“God, such a good girl,” he groans, and you whine around his thick length. “Yeah, you are. Such a good puppy for me.”

He rocks his hips against your face, forcing his tip to kiss the back of your throat. Spit bubbles and spills from around your lips as he keeps his cock in your mouth. Every time you swallow around him, his dick twitches and throbs on your tongue, precum leaking down your throat. 

Leon grunts and presses closer, pushing his dick a little deeper; it makes you gag hard, and he pulls out—thick, slimy spit hanging from his cock in strings. His abs and hips flex, arousal burning hot in his blood. 

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” he praises, and your eyes flutter. “My good puppy.”

Moaning, you sink your mouth back down on his cock, choking when you press too far but not stopping in the slightest. He pulls his dick from your swollen lips, then bends forward to slip his hands underneath your armpits to pull you up on your feet.

“Let me feel this sexy pussy,” he rumbles, lips brushing across your fuzzy ear. 

Whining, you cant your hips toward him. “Please, Leon. Play with my pussy.”

Both of you let out sounds of pleasure when his fingers part your slick folds, digits pressing teasingly at your hole.

“Such a wet puppy pussy,” he coos, dropping a kiss at the corner of your lips. “Does she need a cock stuffing her cute hole?”

“Please, oh please,” you mewl, tail bumping against the tiled wall. “Wanna feel full.”

He hikes one of your legs around his hip before gripping his cock and notching it at your clenching heat. Pressing the tip inside, he uses both hands to grab the fat of your ass to pull you onto his cock as he sinks deeper into your cunt. 

“So tight, fuck,” he groans, pelvis flush against your own. “God, gonna make me nut so fast, sweetheart.”

“Leon,” you moan loudly, nails clawing up his back and making his cock pulse inside your snug pussy. 

Leon blames his recent celibacy for his quick trigger response to having your soft wet pussy clamping down on his dick. You don’t seem to be much better off, pussy walls rippling and squeezing around his cock while you moan and pant against his chest. He moves a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit. 

“So slippery and soft, baby,” he growls. “Cum for me so I can cream your sweet little pussy.”

“I’m so close,” you drool, hips humping your cunt down onto his cock. “G’nna cum, Leon. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Good girl. I want you to cum. Want you to squeeze my cock with that fat puppy pussy,” he groans, fingers strumming across your clit faster and faster. 

You sink your sharp teeth into his shoulder and scream, body twitching and shuddering as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Leon can’t stop himself, fucking you through your aftershocks to chase his own climax. He buries his cock to the hilt in your hole, spilling hot and thick inside your cunt. You moan, pussy milking him for every drop of cum in his balls. 

After you both catch your breath, Leon slides his cock from your tight hole with a sigh. He then helps ease your leg back onto the ground. Rubbing your arms, he leans forward and kisses your forehead, making you preen. Letting another few seconds pass in comfortable silence, Leon drops his arms to his side. 

“Gotta piss,” he mutters, moving to get out. 

Your fingers latch onto his arm, big eyes pleading up at him. 

“Mark me up,” you nuzzle against his neck. “Mark your territory.”

Leons half-hard cock twitches in interest but stays soft. “Baby…”

“Please,” you bat your eyes, and he’s quickly nodding in agreement. 

There’s no sense denying it to himself— he thinks it’s hot as hell you want him to piss on you. Too bad his refractory period isn’t immediate. He grips his cock, and you kneel down in front of him. A few drops of urine leak from his tip. You whine, and Leon relaxes into it, hot piss steadily streaming onto your neck and tits. His eyes watch it coat your skin, a possessive satisfaction settling in his chest. 

Shifting his feet, he uses his grip to aim his cock at your face, piss hitting your lips and chin. You drop your mouth open with a moan. 

“Fuck, such a good fucking puppy for me,” he grunts, directing the stream of urine onto your tongue. 

You keep your mouth open, swallowing Leon’s piss until it slows down to a trickle before tapering off completely. Humming, you look up at his with glassy eyes. 

“Thank you, Leon.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 !

— pairing; nagi seishiro x reader  

— summary; set in the future, where your baby with nagi comes early while he's playing in a match.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my content and and please commission me because im broke. kisses to everyone who reblogs.

❋ This is the most important game of Nagi’s career, and you’re not about to call him off the field for this.

❋ . . . Even if you might be in labour.

❋ You think you’re in labour, anyway.

❋ You’re looking into it.

❋ You try to brush it off as just another false alarm since the baby’s not due for another month, even as your stomach feels oddly tight and heavy.

❋ Now that you’re this far along, Nagi makes sure to pay extra attention to you, always checking on you before he leaves practice or matches. He kisses you sweetly as always, but he hesitates before leaving you alone in the stands, where you have an unobstructed view of the field. “Are you sure you're okay? You look kind of . . . Sweaty.”

❋ You wave him off with a smile, trying to act normal. “Just nerves.”

❋ The whistle blows and the match begins with all that usual fanfare. You try to lose yourself in the magic of the game, how effortlessly graceful Nagi looks when he’s dominating the field, but it’s hard as the contractions grow stronger, more intense than you could have ever imagined.

❋ You’re grimly determined to make it through the game, cheering for Nagi just as you’ve always done. So you dig your nails into the arm-rests of your seat and try to force the breath back into your lungs.

❋ Not yet. Not yet.

❋ It’s Reo who catches sight of you up in the VIP section of the stands; you’re shaking and doubled over, clutching at your stomach. A small crowd is already forming around you, and it’s hard to miss the panic on the face of Chigiri’s mother and older sister.

❋ “Nagi,” Reo says, an unusual urgency lacing his voice, and Nagi turns, follows the direction of his gaze.

❋ A very red-faced Chris Prince and the throng of fans are in an uproar when Nagi sprints off-field with a renewed burst of energy. His focus is completely on you now, the ongoing game now pushed to the very recesses of his mind. “Hey, what's wrong? You look weird.”

❋ You’re pale and tight-lipped, sweat sticking your hair to your face and neck, but you still try to act as though everything’s fine. “Nothing’s wrong. Go back to the game!” You try to shoo him away with a wave of your hand, but Nagi isn’t buying it.

❋ “Nah, you look like you're dying or something. That’s not normal.” he deadpanned, pulling out his phone to call his driver (well, Reo’s driver).

❋ “Go back to the game!” You try to tell him again, biting back a cry as another contraction rips through your body.

❋ Nagi shakes his head, already bending down to scoop you into his arms. "It’s just a game. You and the baby are more important," he mumbles, carrying you to the nearest exit with surprising strength.

❋ By the time you reach the hospital and you’re ushered into a private room, your contractions are coming in hard and fast waves, and you’re clutching Nagi’s hand like a vice. "Ow . . . How are you so strong? You’re so small . . ." he mutters, his face scrunching up in pain.

❋ Still wearing his jersey and cleats, Nagi stays by your side the entire time, which you’re grateful for since his calming presence helps more than you’ll admit. He’s completely unbothered by the fact that he missed the rest of the game (which his team, fortunately, won).

❋ What you’re NOT grateful for: his unhelpful comments. "Why does it take so long?”, “Can’t you speed it up?" Nagi gets the hint and shuts up when you hurl a pillow at him with a string of very colourful curses, because it’s his fault that you’re here, dammit.

❋ When the baby finally arrives, red-faced and announcing her arrival with a loud scream, Nagi stares at the tiny bundle in awe, his large frame completely dwarfing his child. But his large hands are gentle, holding his baby like she’s the most precious thing in the world. “Huh. She’s kind of like a mini you . . . So small and soft.”

❋ But when the baby yawns, all droopy-eyed and their small face a sleepy smudge, you think that your daughter looks more like Nagi.

[jujutsusimp]

Good night

🌸 Sukuna allows you to stay in bed with him after sex for the first time

I already mentioned my brain rot about Sukuna big spooning you when i commissioned this fanart, so I wrote a short drabble to go with it. I am going for a realistic Sukuna : so rough but slowly softening to you.

Content: True Form! Sukuna, fem!reader, fluff, implied sex but nothing explicit

You were wrecked like always. All your muscles were sore, even those you didn’t know you had, your legs were all wobbly, and the sheets were just too comfortable to even think about lifting your head from them. They felt so soft beneath your exhausted, sweaty, body you couldn’t help but cling a bit against the nearest pillow.

After a moment of self-indulgence, you try shifting, looking for the strength to get up but only groaning from the effort. You give up instantly, closing your eyes to rest them. Just five more minutes.

“I will be gone in a moment," you say with a sigh. Sukuna was not known for his patience, but he was always more tolerant after sex, you could probably squeeze a couple more minutes in his bed without annoying him too much.

To your surprise, you feel one of his hands sliding under your waist, gently circling your body before pulling you against him. You wince slightly, clearly not in shape for a 5th round, but his touch was surprisingly tender.

"Stay," he orders with a tranquil but imperious tone. His three other arms join the first around you, wrapping you completely against him.

He wants you to stay? For the night? It’s usually not an option, and right now, you are not opposed to the idea. You are so tired and his strong arms and his torso are like a cocoon, enveloping you in soothing warmth.

“You asked so nicely, how can I say no…”, you say with a hint of teasing. You were clearly not up for real snark, but you have a reputation to maintain. Just so he doesn’t get too comfortable bossing you around.

“Well leave then, but don’t whine you are tired after”, he retorts with annoyance, tightening his grip on your waist, unconsciously contradicting his own words.

You can’t help but smile at his statement. He is making baby steps, but a month ago he was throwing you over his shoulder whenever he wanted sex, so this was already a spectacular improvement.

“No, I am good there”, you finally answer, nuzzling a bit more against him. You rest your head on one of his strong biceps while bending your knees to curl up, making yourself even smaller in his arms. His legs mimicked yours, making you disappear against his strong frame, sharing even more of his body heat.

You were so sore, it was actually really relaxing to bathe in his warmth like that, and you feel your heart gently calm down from the intense exertion, taking the steady rhythm of his own instead. Despite being completely trapped by his four arms, being the small spoon was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes, relaxed.

“Now sleep," he commands, burying his face in your disheveled hair, his steady breath taking on your scent as he rubs gently his nose against your neck with a discreet sigh.

“Good night," you say for the very first time before you fall asleep with a gentle smile on your lips.

[murmiss]

Neglected Beta!Y/N And the bad pack! 141

Part1.

(No user's names are mentioned, the user's description is as a female, angst,The changed nature of the characters, my vision on them,there may be mistakes in words -English is not my first language)

Omegas-gentle creatures with soft personalities, smells, and sincere purity-were what Pack 141 wanted, but their psychiatric records, their mental health records, unfortunately didn't allow the pack to have an omega. Eventually they'd either torture the poor thing or gnaw each other, so they were left to enjoy their rare encounters with girls.

Until at some point, in the midst of a conversation between old friends, Laswell did not offer Price an easier option - Take in the pack beta, to convince the commission distribution center that their pack is quite stable and able to live with omegas.

And it's got Price pretty damn hooked. Like be nice to the beta for a couple months and then they'll reward you with a full-fledged mate?

And they're going for it.

The whole pack was in awe of the idea, and even Ice Ghost couldn't help but grin when the beta contract was approved. Just a little bit more and they'd have a full-fledged member of the pack-a gentle and sweet omega...

When you arrived at the house, the Man with the Mohawk, Soap, that's what he called himself, kindly helped carry your suitcases to the door and your room, and the black-skinned guy with the charming smile kissed your hand upon meeting you, affectionately calling you "my lady."

Honestly, when you got the acceptance letter from the pack, fear and anxiety didn't leave you - usually all packs wanted omegas, but here, a pack that wanted a beta, who liked you and met you so kindly, couldn't have been more excited. Damn it, your legs were shaking before the meeting, because the fear of being unrecognized, unwanted in your own pack had been haunting you since your student days, when you found out that you were just an ordinary beta.

There were also advantages to the plan: no heat, no need to pretend to be nice, as omegas did, and complete freedom of action, that is, even on the street to walk is not so scary.

You spent the whole evening preparing for full acceptance into the pack, getting a tag was the most valuable and important thing for any omega and beta in the pack, as a sign of her need.

The dress was perfect, and the light makeup emphasized the natural beauty of your face while your hair framed everything in its softness. Well, the presence of a carefully chosen set of red lingerie added spice to it, making you smile to yourself and giggle quietly.

Hell, it's so long overdue that your legs buckle and get woozy and your palms sweat when you walk down to the living room and see the table where there were appetizers, five glasses, and a beer. Beer? Not exactly what you expected, but what if your alphas don't like fancy wine or champagne?

To hell with it.

You step closer and Price grins and picks up your shoulders, pulling you to the couch, letting you sit between him and Soap. Just the thought of their rough hands touching your body makes everything hotter, and you smile.

They laugh too, Soap takes you by the shoulders, chokes on your glass and gets carried away with the conversation again.

Glass after glass, you try to cut into the conversation but they just discuss their missions, hardships and training plans .You just keep quiet.

One last clink of glasses, and soon it's time to disperse: Ghost and Gaz are the first to leave, having gone upstairs, Price is yawning, and Soap is about to leave too, and shit, you feel the heat spill down your thighs at the thought of them waiting for you up there, and you stop Soap.

"John... Ahh.. What about the mark?" -you ask in a playful tone, to which the guy with the Mohawk smiles in surprise and says, "mark.., oh, yeah, right, honey."

You smile back, and he holds out the dirty plates to you with a satisfied grin.

"What's this?" - You mutter puzzledly.

"A little cleaning won't hurt, baby," he winks, and you, out of control, set off to wash the dishes with more enthusiasm than you've never washed them before.

Done. You go upstairs and adjust your dress before going to your room, but... it's empty. Puzzled, you look into Price's room - he's asleep, the soap is asleep, and you don't even bother to look in the ghost and gas room. Maybe they just drank too much and fell asleep.

That's what you were hoping.

But in the morning it was like no one remembered you, didn't say good morning or anything, and in the evening the gas just said he and the guys were going to the gym for a workout.

At seven o'clock at night? Must be some kind of evening membership. But no, and no again. At night, like a faithful dog in waiting, you're only greeted by awkward smiles, the smell of women's perfume mixed with omega pheromones, and it hurts.

"Where's my mark?" - You ask incredulously as Gaz giggles and Soap, the most talkative of them all, explains with a smile that it's still early. Early for what? Are they still looking at you? Is there something wrong with you?

Or is it because you're not an omega?

But no, you dismiss those thoughts and start cutting up a piece of raw meat, trying to cook it to make it more flavorful, but it's not Well done and it never will be. What's the point of trying, what's the point of trying if you're never gonna make it?

You'll never be the right person.

It was Wednesday when you first caught Gaza in some girl's arms. "Colleague?" That's right. It's just a coworker, just another coworker, just.... Accept it so you don't feel your heart ache again.

The days go by the same, and it's very lonely here. No one hears or sees. Price and Ghost had a conscience and never brought anyone to your house. Is it yours? No.

"Just a little bit more, lads, and I can already see a delicate bird in a red apron circling our kitchen and cooking a delicious steak." says Soap with his trademark bright smile, reclining on the sofa.

"Better in red panties," Gas replies with a laugh, his eyes unconsciously rolling with satisfaction.

"better without"-Ghost's deep bass draws everyone's attention, and the rest of you let out an approving chuckle.

You're a good person, a really nice person, a great friend, and everyone knows it. But . You're a beta, and everyone realizes that.

If they told you at the distribution center that you were an omega, how much would things be different? How much brighter your life would be and how much more beloved you'd be by everyone around you?

"I need to go to the store," you interrupt in a surprisingly loud voice. You don't want to hear a word about it, you don't want to know, you want them to shut up. You don't want to endure this pain, this crushing feeling of your own worthlessness and inferiority.

Everyone visibly tenses, and Soap and Gaz look at each other - this evening, neither of them wanted to drive to the store, which is at least an hour away by car if you don't count traffic. They wanted to relax in a bar and maybe wake up in the arms of a charming lady, not in a damn store!

"Rock-paper-scissors!" - Soapy cheerfully suggests, and Ghost snorts in response, but agrees.

It's disgusting. It's disgusting to stand there and watch four big guys, alphas,who promised to protect you in the distribution center, swear to the administration that they're proud of this beta,That they love you,but competing to take you to the store because no one wanted to do it. No one.

It's not your fault you don't have a car. It's not your fault the rules are in place.

"Fuck! " John yells, and his face takes on an agonized expression, as if driving with you would be sheer hard labor, and desperation is written all over his face as he speaks, albeit with a smile: "Don't ride without me, boys! ".

It's a long drive to the store, but nevertheless, once you're in the supermarket, you start picking up your grocery list, walking through the departments with concentration, while MacTavish lazily walks along, looking at the grocery racks and sticking his hands in his pockets. You don't notice him walking away, noticing the cute girls with the sweetest scent of pheromone omegas.

That's a hell of a catch. The smile doesn't leave his face as he waltzes over to the liquor section, demonstratively grabs a bottle of expensive cognac, and winks at one of the girls, emitting more alpha pheromone.

"Who's the handsome one here?" says the boldest of the girls, attracting attention. They are all so beautiful, such bright and colorful girls in their beautiful dresses and heels, just fire stirring the alpha's senses.

"Looking for the company of sweet omegas"- he says with his trademark smile, and one of the girls, a blonde, giggles.

Damn it! When they're all over him, pressing their fragile bodies against his, hanging on his elbows, hugging, he's completely oblivious to everything,

He forgot about you.

Forgotten as he led the Omegas away from the store with the bags of liquor and snacks he'd grabbed at speed. He forgot when he put them in his car and drove away.

"More milk... Do we have coffee at home, John? " you say out loud, but get no answer and look up. There's no soap around. It's strange. You look around uncertainly, wondering if he went to get something on the list or to another department. You look around. You wander around the store in confusion until you decide to look out the window, thinking you'll see the soap there - maybe he decided to go outside the store for a smoke. You peek into the parking lot, but .... no car.

No car? Why? Did something happen? You carelessly pull it out of your pocket, dialing the maktavish's number. Nothing.

Shit. He had all money, and no soap, no price, no Gaz, not even a Ghost, no one picks up the phone. In desperation, you leave the cart almost in the middle of the store and hurry out, intending to find the soap, to try to call outside, hoping the whole problem is a bad connection.

It's dark outside, and there isn't a single car in the whole damn parking lot. Scary.

Your phone only has a couple percent charge, but you don't give up trying to call. Panicking at 1%, you only manage to send the phrase, "Please pick me up guys, I'm scared," before your phone goes off.

You sit down on the doorstep of the store and just stare at the road, hoping a car will stop and pick you up.

But it doesn't, and it's only the salesman who changes the store sign from "open" to "closed" as he walks away.

(I'm posting the second part right away. I don't understand why I'm drawn to the same topic, an incomprehensible melancholy)

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[ziorre]

✨Commission info✨

I'm ready, I'm rested, I'm refreshed! And I'm completely charged to take care of your new ideas and characters!! I truly believe that every character is awesome and original and deserves to be shown with their own story! And I'll try to help you with this in a way that is more convenient for you! You just pick one below ;)

✨ PRICES:

- REALISTIC STYLE (for the cases, when you want it looks more real without much stylizing)

- USUAL STYLE (for the cases, when you don’t mind it looks more stylized and a lil sketchy)

- CONCEPT SHEET (for the cases, when you want to present your character, their outfit and props)

* you can find more examples on my page by the commission tag ** a helpful post describing a right order for your refs

✨ DEADLINES: After you DM me with a brief description of your idea, I’ll tell you the approximate date when I’ll be able to proceed with your commission. But the average deadline is from 2 weeks to 2 months. ❗❗❗Always warn me in advance if I need to draw art by a certain deadline❗❗❗

✨ PAYMENT:  What: USD or RUB When: full pre-payment (when you sent me the email and we approved the art idea) Where: Lava.top (russian platforms, support payment via PayPal)

✨ PROCESS: You write to me in private messages on Tumblr, briefly tell me your idea of our future art, what style and what slot you want (full body / half body / bust). Then I give you my email address and you send me an email (with your Tumblr name as the topic please) with all necessary references (your character's face claim, their pose, clothes, background etc.). You describe the idea of the art in details, where it takes place, and other things that I need to know so that I can base the sketch on all that info, because after you approve the sketch, I don’t change art much in the further stages of the work, just some details. I send you the payment link on my Lava.top page. Send you the sketch. After you confirm that you like the sketch, I finish the work and send it on your email😊

✨ OTHER: - I don’t correct the art after you approved the finished version. - I don’t copy other artist’s work. - I publish every commission on my social media, if you don’t want it to be published, just let me know. - If you’re not sure about the art idea, I can suggest you 4 sketches with different poses/concepts/angles for extra $20 and you pick the one you like the most. - For significant corrections or a lot of small ones at any stage of work, an additional fee may be charged (this doesn’t apply to some small adjustments or details witch I missed). There are 3 free changes at the each stages of the work (sketch, finished version), further - $2-$5.

___________________________________

And of course I can't skip to say a huge thank you to those who commissioned and continue commissioning art from me! It means a lot! For real! This is not only material support, but also moral one, saying that I’m not wasting my time and energy in vain, that I’m moving in the right direction, that people like what I do! I can't tell how inspiring it is!! 360 commissions! I’ve never imagined that one day I would draw so many art for others! Just.. wow!! Thank you again so much for trusting me bringing to life your ideas! I truly appreciate it!😌

____________________________________

I think this is it, right? If you have any questions, feel free to DM me ;)  

I’ll be VERY grateful for your reblogs!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤ (and thank you very much for this in advance, it helps me A LOOOOOOOOOT, you are the ones who keep me alive literally! I see each and every one of you doing that! You’re the best!!!) Thanks for your attention! Have a good day =)

[emperor-kumquat]

"Public domain Sunder" outside of Tumblr (How my project art runs away)

This is NOT a general Sunder! As cool as he looks, he belongs to me and Mynametia/ Inishira (Instagram)!

I want to talk about how reposted art causes harm. It has been stressful to see and I hope fellow artists can sympathize or empathize. And please, if you base art off this Sunder, credit the project Transformers: Mercy!

Firstly, I've heard both "you're niche and unknown" or "you have a big following so watch your mouth"

It feels mean either way... :( Like the jab takes whatever stance is most convenient.

Bottom line: I don't consider myself special. I am just a very hard worker. The only reason I have gotten as far as I have was my hours of daily work for years on my project and YouTube channel.

I am awed when I reflect on how far I have come. Growing my social media platforms, working with 100 different artists from all over the world, commissioning comic artists like Alex Milne and Livio Ramondelli for posters, getting interviewed, collabing, or having shoutouts on other YouTube channels, sitting on panels at TFcon in front of hundreds (although it was t e r r i f y i n g) and getting to talk to them about Transformers: Mercy! And this year, I will be selling Mercy merch at a table at TFcon in the art gallery!

So I don't think I am niche anymore... I don't think my project Transformers: Mercy is. Over the years it has become very widespread with art posted on blogs across social media platforms. As I will discuss, maybe too widespread in one wrong way.

But... there is a long way to go to completing the project. I have about 1000 images now. That's insane! This is no tiny lil project. And I am gunning for 1000s more to make this TFP fan-made sequel. But, I have to pay so so much out of pocket despite making less than minimum wage most months. I need a lot of support to make this big dream possible. Thank you to all who have already helped me thus far.

I think I am just writing this post to clear the air. I am honoured deeply by fanart or fanfictions or fan animations people have created for Transformers: Mercy. It is very motivating and heartwarming and helps me keep up the pace of working hours every day on this project.

I don't mind inspiration being taken from my work. It is an honour. My project draws inspiration from James Roberts' MTMTE and would be nothing without his appealing takes on characters. We may critique MTMTE but where would we be without his Whirl, Rodimus, Drift, Ratchet, Pharma, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Swerve, Overlord, DJD, etc.? I carried on from him, others may carry on from me.

A while back, I never meant offence when pointing out one animation of Sunder had features that looked eerily similar (to me) to the Sunder of my game. The reason I got a jolt of horror stems from the fact that this project has fallen victim to reposts on places like Instagram, Pinterest, Reddit, the fan wiki, and other TF forums with zero credit to me or the artists. The growing popularity of Mercy art has also caused it to appear in general searches for IDW or TFP characters. This is why if you search "Transformers Sunder concept art" you are likely to see Mercy Sunder right there but uncredited. So you would see our art but not know what it was for. And Mynametia/Inishira (the artist) did such a good job that it even looks like IDW concept art. It can be mistaken for official content.

But it's not. It was created for my project with very specific features to match my story. A project which costs so much of my time and money and it needs all the donations it can get. It is loses support when its art becomes popular with no tie back to this project. It is still a project in development and is therefore vulnerable.

Transformers: Mercy, after all the years, has become a famous project. But it is a struggling project due to the high financial cost. It is made with ok not blood, but real sweat and tears as I have pushed so hard to make it this far. It has been emotional. It even brought me the love of my life, my spouse.

I want to continue to work on it, the largest Transformers fan project that I believe has ever been attempted. But I need that support, that credit. It hurts when I use google/another search engine and search "Transformers Sunder concept art" and see our work totally visible to the public and not at all attached to Mercy. It then jumpscares me to see other people creating something that looks just like my creations. I see fanart that uses the face of my ghoul Sunder, the one-eyed purple-eyed version with a gaping black pit where the other eye should have been with a small white light within (or the other specific features I requested for Mercy Sunder).

It feels like my ideas are running away from me.

I do not believe anything was done with intent to harm or any malice or spite. I did not believe my project art had been knowingly stolen by any animator or fan artist of Sunder. But when I wrote my post in response to one animation, I did believe that Mercy Sunder had been seen and used as an inspiration because he does appear in general Sunder searches on the Internet. So this is where I came from and why I felt compelled to step in at the time.

I hope I have expressed myself better than last time and I just would like to voice that not this artist/ animator I first reblogged, but other people have reposted Mercy Sunder and caused him to become like.... public domain? Please, I just want it to be known that what you see on search engines, forums, wikis.... was taken from my project. Please do not base your Sunders on that art without crediting Transformers: Mercy and Inishira (Instagram or X).

I hope all the artists here can imagine the feeling of distress I feel seeing credit and support fly away from me and that talented artist, Inishira (who designed Mercy Overlord, Sunder, Crankcase, Fulcrum, Misfire, Krok, Spinister, Waspinator (bug form), and angel Starscream).

I don't want drama or a public back and forth. I seek amicable relationships going forth. Please be very mindful and go back to add in credits if you realize you used this Sunder design as a reference!

[kaahgyuya]

hello! uh can i request fem!reader who is in a secret relationship with Kinich and was hanging out with the natlan girls plus lumine and paimon practically taking her attention away from kinich making him jealous. No angst just pure fluff. thank you^^

Jelly . ! (FLUFF)

. synopsis ; kinich gets jealous!

. warnings/notes ; fem!reader, Kinich might be ooc... secret relationship, he gets jealous, pet names oneshot, and reader in this might not be a liking for you! (Reqs are open, so feel free to recommend some stuff of your own!)

rahhh!!! Thank you for being one of my first requests after awhile of not posting on Tumblr! Forgive me for not posting a lot last year, but I'll be sure to post regularly. Thank you anonymous for this request! (My apologies if this is not how you like it 🙏)

REQS. are open!!! (Open until 10/3)

Kinich and you started dating around 5 months ago, and ever since then, you wanted to keep it a secret because you didn't know how to explain it to the others.

Its been 5 months though, when will you tell the others?

Besides, Kinich has offered to tell them for you, but you just felt too embarrassed to do so, so he might as well leave it be until you're comfortable. After all, you're his partner.

Lately, Kinich has noticed you haven't been paying much attention to him, so everytime whenever he can't spread his love for you, he gets a little annoyed.

"Cmon, Kinich— you're so pathetic! Stop sulking before ya'lose all of your balls!"

"Shut up, Ajaw." With a snap of his fingers, Ajaw gets sent to the sky, being sent to his timeout.

Kinich sighs as he finishes off his commission and walks off.

He finally sees you, walking to his tribe while humming softly with your hands behind your back, however, they're in public so he can't help but feel a little sting in his chest.

"Y/N." Kinich called out for you, you turned around and waved enthusiastically.

"Hi Kinich! I was just about to look for you." You say as he approaches you.

He walks beside you as you yap your mouth off to him. He wants to hold your hand so badly, he just brushes his hand against yours.

As you and Kinich make it to the top, you still talk to Kinich as he listens to you carefully.

"Is that Y/N? Y/NNN!!!" You heard an eager voice call your name, and you turn around to see Paimon, Lumine, Mualani, and Kachina.

"Huh? Oh hey guys!" You run over to them immediately leaving Kinich on his own. He couldn't help but feel that same sting clench his chest again.

"Hi Mualani! Long time no see huh?" You asked her, she eagerly agreed too as you guys had girl talk... and then there's Kinich.

Kinich noticed that recently whenever he was with you, or about to give you a small kiss, someone always had to come and interrupt you guys. Whether it'd be a friend of yours, or a stranger.

He couldn't help but just stand there for awhile and contemplate. He couldn't help but feel that stinging feeling come back.

Was he jealous? No, no, of course not. The calm and collected Kinich would never, he would never let this stupid emotion take over him right here, right now. He's much more mature than this, he would nev—

"Oh? We should visit by sometim—" you were cut off as you felt arms wrap around your waist tightly, and nuzzling their head in the crook of your neck.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

There was a long silence.

Kinich pressed a soft kiss on your neck as he kept his head hidden in your neck.

"My love," Kinich mumbled in a low voice."

"Wait— you're dating Kinich?!" Mualani was the first to yell that out loudly as some people nearby looked at them.

Lumine covered Kachina's eyes as she asked, "wait huh? What happened?"

"SHES DATING HIM??" Paimon screeched.

"Hold on, we never knew you guys were dating! How long have you..." Mualani paused and noticed your face was bright red and completely frozen.

Kinich looked up at them and answered her question. "We've been dating for about 5 months." Kinich couldn't help but feel a little guilty after breaking his promise with you, he felt bad because his jealousy took over.

He continued to leave his head nesting in the crook of your neck.

"M'sorry, my love." Kinich mumbled in a low voice.

Paimon waved a hand in front of your face, yet you showed no response.

"I—I, uh... um." The tips of your hands felt shaky and a wave of embarrassment washed over.

"How come you never told us, Y/N?" Mualani asked with a worried smile, you were so red you looked like you had a fever.

"It— I uh, I didn't know how to say it." The redness still bloomed all over your face.

"Trust me, it's easy." Kinich said.

"wh—wait hold on!" Kachina removed Lumine's hands from her face and saw them being all cuddly and close.

"If you guys are dating for real, then kiss!" Kachina immediately blurted out then covered her mouth.

"Sorry!.." She mumbled.

"Cmon, let's go." Kinich immediately scooped you up bridal way and then took his way off.

"Kinich— put me down!" You tried tackling him off but he didn't bother as he still walked off.

Mualani and the others heard you from a distance as you guys got more and more faint.

"Kachina, let's talk about this later." Mualani says with a somewhat concerned smile.

"What just happened?" Lumine and paimon ask.

"Dunno, but I can't help but feel happy for them. At the same time, a little upset because they never told us." Mualani said while putting a hand on her hip.

"Wanna take a bet on who confessed first?" Lumine asked while chuckling.

"I bet Y/N!" Kachina said.

"No way, I think Kinich." Mualani immediately said.

Kinich and you are both somewhere secluded as he put you on top of some boxes.

"M'sorry." Kinich immediately leaned his head on your chest and huffed.

You can suddenly hear the guilt in his voice.

"I was.." He paused.

"I was jealous because lately you haven't been paying much attention to me, so it built up over time and..." He paused again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kinich mumbled as he hugged you tightly again.

"It's fine. I was planning to tell them soon anyways, but the way you did it was so embarrassing." You grumbled.

"Mind if I do it differently then?"

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"What if I just kissed you in front of them instead?" He chuckled while lifting his head up to look at you.

"No!"

@kaahgyuya 9/30/24 6:50 pm

A/n : sorry if there's any sloppy writing or anything like that, I hope you enjoyed reading though! <3

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Texting them “I need you right now”

Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.

He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you. 

Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.

"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.

"Yeah...petty reason." 

"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."

You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.

Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.

He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.

During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.

He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.

"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."

He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.

He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.

The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.

He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get). 

"What's wrong, doll?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.

Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.

"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped. 

"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.

"Yeah...petty reason."

"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.

He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.

"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together." 

He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.

He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.

"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"

"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"

With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.

Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.

"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.

"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.

"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.

He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.

"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."

Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving. 

He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.

"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.

He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.

"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back. 

"No, just hold me like this."

It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.

"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."

"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."

"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.

"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.

"What about work?" you asked.

"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."

Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.

He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"

His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.

He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.

He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.

"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.

"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.

"Bullshit."

He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.

You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.

He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.

“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."

You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest. 

He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.

[vaporclan]

I know this is my comic account but it's the account that has the most followers on it and I'm really scared for my cat and don't want to be alone right now.

I'm at a loss. He's been to the vet 3 times this month, and I'm completely drained of money.

I suspect there's something wrong with my cats mouth, and paid for a vet visit. The vet had a quick look at his mouth and told us to drop it, and that his teeth are fine. But...

I just. It's the only conclusion I can come to after witnessing his symptoms.

He's throwing up - usually bile. He's gone so skinny because he just won't eat anything even remotely solid. If it's got bits in it, he won't eat it.

He's not lethargic. There's NO DIARRHEA. His pooping is 100% normal, doesn't strain or anything. Completely solid poops.

His appetite is NOT gone - he TRIES to eat food and struggles. He tries solid food and immediately gives up because it's too crunchy. He TRIES to eat his wet food and gives up once getting to the chunks. HE TRIES!!! It's not a lack of appetite! He's starving!

Just 5 minutes ago I saw him walk over to the bowl of dry food, try to eat it and immediately give up. Its not an appetite issue! He is *struggling* to eat it! This is his favourite dry food, btw.

A couple weeks ago, I gave him one of his favourite treats - he was Excited when I opened the packet. He tried to chew it, failed and gave up. This was my first suspicion.

He is 13 years old and has a snaggletooth and has had it for as long as I've known him, but was not born with it. He got it back when he was my sister's cat and was attacked by her dog (He no longer lives with dogs!). They never took him to the vet for this.

I vividly remember taking him to get a checkup last year, and the (more expensive, might I add!) vet saying he could possibly have some dental issues.

So why would this second (cheaper) vet, after a quick look at his mouth, tell me it's 100% not dental and it's likely a gut issue? And then jump straight to "it could be CANCER" after a less than 2 minute long inspection? They barely looked at him!

(I went to the cheaper vet because I ran out of money this month, and they've been good in the past...?)

Why is he trying and failing to eat solid food? If he was turning his nose up at any and all food, I'd agree with the idea that he's got a lack of appetite. But he's trying *so* hard to eat.

I dunno, I get a lot of mouth pain myself and I can attest it is very difficult to eat solid food when it gets painful. Maybe it's confirmation bias, but....

‼️ I heard a CRUNCHY noise coming from his mouth when he was eating KITTY YOGURT 2 days ago.

The way the cheaper vet looked at him for less than 2 minutes and immediately shut us down, told us it's 100% not dental issues and he might have CANCER instead and immediately gave us some meds without explaining what the medication even does makes my stomach feel a little queezy. My gut is telling me something is not right here.

He has a heart murmur. I looked up the medication given to us by the vet - prednisolone - and after some impulsive Googling found out it can make heart conditions worse and should be given with caution after an ecg. They didn't even SUGGEST an ecg. They didn't take his heart murmur into account at all. Again, the appointment lasted *2 minutes*.

Am I crazy? I feel all sorts of crazy.

I get paid like, £600 in a few days. The cost of a dental x-ray is anywhere from £200 to £400. And that's Just The X-Ray. If he needs teeth out, that's an extra £400, and where am I gonna pull that money from?

I get paid another £600 or so on the 28th.

He's so fucking skinny, man..

I don't want to make another donation post and I really truly do not have it in me to draw commissions right now. I don't know what to do.

[smiling-critters-movie]

MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT: Whoa. Guess it's been a while. *Clears off dust and old hotdogs off the desk* Hey everyone! Floofychu here. First off lemme get this off my chest. *Takes cat off chest* There we go.

I wanna deeply apologize for leaving you guys in the dark involving this project. A lot of you were patiently waiting for a new update regarding this piece of fan content and I have not been clear as to why. Well as some would know or don't know, when it comes to The Smiling Critters movie, I want it to be not just the best it can be, but the best with my own vision attached to it. I made it clear that I wanted to replicate the old 80s/90s feel with this project I've been inspired by and what goes together with 80s/90s cartoon movies? No! It's the musical numbers!

A lot of cartoons and movies from those times seem to have some cheesy but fun musical numbers where the characters sing to pad out the runtime (You probably are familiar with the extended intro of the Critters song from my movie project) And thus I've decided to add musical numbers to it. Mother Mira's Lullaby is already finished (and on the channel!), the instrumentals for all the songs are ready to go thanks to some amazing artists and friends, but there was one song that held me back for MONTHS. That... was King Tyran's theme.

Yep, King Tyran's going to have his own musical number. Who doesn't love a villain song?! There was a problem tho. The voice actor for Tyran Cougar offered to mix the soundtrack and I gave him the go ahead to do so. Unfortunately he and his mixer were dealing with some IRL issues which caused a HUGE delay (Not your fault, mates!). I was wondering if I should've moved on to other things for the movie, but as time went on I got a lot more busier. Commissions to pay bills, helping my mom out and working on an Easter project that's gonna be finished soon.

So as I kept waiting for Tyran's song I would focus more on commissions as well as my own other projects but I'm now happy to announce... King Tyran's theme is finished. When will you guys hear it? Well perhaps pretty soon maybe? ;) Right now I need to finish my easter project as well as set up to pay more bills soon, but rest assure, now that Tyran's song is finally complete, the other songs will be completed on a timely manner as well! How many are left? 2 actually. One is going to be another musical number but with all the critter crew, and the other is... well I'm gonna save it when the movie's finished. ;3

I just wanna say thank you so much for your patience, love and care for this silly little project that grew in scope because of a certain direction I took it in. It was never meant to be this big, but because you guys love what I was doing with it and have grown interested in both the movie and the lore of it involving Poppy Playtime's story, I feel like I need to finish what I started. I have tons of ambition for this project thanks to you guys, and now that one of the songs is FINALLY finished, I no longer feel stagnant.

Thank you all again. God bless you all, and enjoy the time we have. ^^ Just S-M-I-L-E everyday! ~Floofychu