#he was cool we wanted to climb together

[toby-du-coeur]

yes devotion is our love language in so many ways

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (so devoted the lines blur)

[faaun]

said goodbye to him feeling weird!

[snail-day]

Okay. Breathe, Satoru. You can do this. It's just a sleepover. Just your girlfriend. Just the person you're absolutely, irrevocably obsessed with. Who you're trying really, really hard not to scare off.

Standing in your apartment, hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep from touching everything. You’re flitting around, casual, relaxed, while he’s trying to memorize the shape of your furniture, the smell of your space, the way you hum when you walk into the kitchen.

Satoru's baby-blues locking onto the bathroom door. “I’ll, uh... shower first, if that’s okay?” like it’s the most neutral, chill request ever. It’s not. He’s sweating. His ears are pink. You nod like it’s no big deal - of course it’s no big deal - but to him? It’s a very big deal.

He gently closes the bathroom door behind him. Worries if he makes too much of a sound, he will be banned from your fine establishment. Your things are everywhere. Shampoo bottles, conditioner, your razor, a little candle half-burned on the sink, your loofah hanging from the shower knob, the loofah. He stares at it for too long.

Are we at the loofah-sharing stage? Satoru wonders, frozen in place. It’s pink. Fluffy. It looks soft, and it’s yours, and he’s fighting every stupid urge in his body. “Don’t be weird,” muttering aloud, as if he can command himself into normalcy. Still, his fingers twitch. He holds it. Briefly. Gently. Just for a second. Just to say he did.

Then comes the body wash. He squirts out the tiniest amount and rubs it between his hands like it’s precious perfume. The scent hits him and he nearly slides down the wall. You smell like this. You smell like this all the time. How is he supposed to survive? Because now he smells like you.

Pressing his face into the steam and pretends it’s your neck. He’s sick. Maybe a little pathetic. He knows it. But he’s also just so in love. What can a guy do?

When he steps out, face flushed and hair damp, he feels like a teenage boy at his crush’s house for the first time - which, in his mind, he kinda is. You’re waiting for him in pajamas, makeup wiped off, looking soft and sleepy and so perfectly you. He thinks he might pass out.

And then… brushing teeth together. Should be simple. Should be normal. But nothing is normal around you. He’s beside you at the sink, trying to play it cool while your shoulder brushes his. You hum to yourself while brushing, glancing at him through the mirror, and he nearly foams at the mouth. Or maybe that’s the toothpaste. He’s not sure.

Then he sees it.

A little blob of foam at the corner of your lips.

Something happens to him. Something dark and unspeakable. He wants to kiss it away. He wants to lick it off your mouth like a psychopath. He stares. Blinks. Shakes his head like a wet dog. Absolutely not. No. Stop it.

What’s wrong with you, scolding himself. She’s just brushing her teeth. Like a person. A very pretty, perfect person.

He spits. Rinses. Avoids eye contact. Looks at the drain. Looks at your spit down the drain. Another weird thought. One that must be suppressed.

And then it’s time. Bedtime. Final boss.

Your bed is small. Cozy. Absolutely infested with plushies. He pretends to be annoyed but he secretly loves them. Even if they are plotting to kick him off the edge of the mattress. He climbs in carefully, unsure which plush is your favorite. Unsure what you'd do if he accidentally knocked one little guy off the floor. The blanket smells like your laundry. Like home. Like the future he wants with you.

You’re already under the covers, blinking at him sleepily, smile soft and content. Wearing his shirt and not much else. The fabric rides up your thighs and he has to look away before his brain fully melts. He deserves a prize for not making a move. Deciding to lay on his back, stiff, hands folded like he’s in a coffin. He doesn’t touch you. Not even a pinky. Be good, chanting to himself. Be good. You like her. You love her. You’re not a perv, you’re not a perv.

You shift closer.

A leg brushes his. A sigh escapes your lips. Your hand settles gently on his stomach like it belongs there.

He almost cries, something between a half whimper and a wheeze leaves his throat.

Slowly, carefully, he slides his arm around your waist. You don’t flinch. Don’t pull away. You lean into him.

He swears he hears wedding bells.

You fall asleep just like that, face nestled against his shoulder, breath even and slow. And he lies there, heart racing, brain fried, blinking up at the ceiling, Satoru would be getting no sleep tonight.

His thoughts are a mess: She’s so pretty. Is she really mine? What if I kissed her forehead? No, too soon. Maybe not. God, her skin is soft. I should move in. Tomorrow. Today. Right now. No, bad. Calm down. Be cool. Be a good boyfriend. Don’t get a boner. You’re cuddling. It’s fine. Just breathe. You’re okay. This is okay. Everything is okay.

He wants to. Touch you, that is. Just your waist. Just a hand on your back. Just to pull you closer and feel your heartbeat against his chest. But he doesn’t. He stays perfectly still. He doesn’t want to push anything. You haven’t done that yet, and he’d rather die than make you uncomfortable.

Except nothing’s okay. Because he’s so in love it physically hurts. Because you’re sleeping peacefully and trusting him with this little moment, and all he wants is to stay like this forever.

How are you sleeping so peacefully while he’s over here thinking about nothing but how perfect yoh are?

[cathnospam]

Bakugo, but his sex drive sky rocketed when you both got together and he doesn’t realize it.

“Here. Drink.”

“Mm.” Was all you were able to mumble out from your face being smooshed into the pillow.

Your body was already growing in soreness and your little blonde firecracker could tell, he rolls his eyes playfully at your starfish figure, littered in pre developed hickies and your decorative blanket covering only what’s between your legs

He takes a sip of the cold water bottle he took from your mini fridge to sit beside you back on the bed, “Y’ still with us or what. I wasn’t even that rough this time.”

“I know, but you have to count this morning too when you had me damn near do the splits on the wall.”

“You said you wanted to try that move next time I ate your pussy?!”

“Yeah well.” You groan rolling over, his hand touches your side while guiding you to sit up and take his water bottle, “Didn’t realize I’d be in that position for 4 minutes.”

“Yeah…you usually cum within like 2 and a half when I eat—“

You cover his dirty mouth and sip the drink, it felt like your body was already getting cooled down from the inside you gulped it for a few more seconds, “Shut up.”

It was a comfortable silence, you threw your head back on the headboard to focus your thoughts again. You knew Bakugo had stamina like a mad man but the way how he’s able to get so viscously pussy drunk and the moment he cums he’s able to just get up and walk around like it’s nobody’s business concerns you.

He just had you face down a few minutes ago, crying out and hollering his name and now he’s just staring at you with a soft look of love

….and possibly lust because his eyes wandered back down to your breast and back to your neck. You couldn’t see him do it, but you definitely could feel it.

He leans in to suckle your throat, peppering quiet kisses to pull you closer. You eventually felt his warm hand slide between the wet mess between your thighs, gliding against your clit to make you shriek and clench your legs as a reflex.

“Hey!” You giggle at his ministrations, but firmly grasp his hand, “Again?”

“Only if you want to. Figured you wasn’t sleep right after so….”

It was really a surprise to you Bakugo was more than willing to have sex back to back and so much with you once you both started doing it, it’s almost all you two do when you have free time together if you aren’t training or studying. You’re not complaining at all, but it definitely was something you giggle thinking about.

“What?”

Your thoughts resurfaced and he quirked his eyebrow up in confusion almost breaking into a laugh without you, but still curious, “What? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know…I just never pegged you for a guy that liked to have sex this much.”

Almost immediately his cheeks burned a tinge of red, eyes widening he sit back and crosses his arms in a pout, slightly embarrassed at the realization, “Just because I never fucked anybody, but you doesn’t mean I’m a fucking prude or something.”

“Of course you’re not. I just…assumed after we had sex the first time you’d only wanna do it like…once every two weeks or something.”

The look on his face was pure confusion and offense.

“Every t—- so you think I’m a fucking prude???!!”

“I don’t!”

“You do, —-TWICE EVERY MONTH ARE YOU INSANE?!”

His tone was annoyed and offended you couldn’t help but to laugh even more, but he seriously was confused as to why’d you think that. I mean have you seen yourself ? He can’t get enough??!!

“Well excuse me for wanting you. God forbid a man loves his girl.”

Hearing his voice gravel and wear down you stop your laughter to look at him, he tries looking the opposite way, but you knew from how he side eye’d you he was just being dramatic.

Using the bit of strength you had left you climb on top of him. For a moment you admire his scars and flushed body, the way his chest practically turns into a deep cleavage when he crosses his arms, his sharp jawline, the veins.

Hell, you was happy as fuck he loved to fuck you. Look at him.

“That’s not what I meant. Growing up you always were so focused on being a hero, that seeing you doing anything but is….fun to see. And im happy I’m the one to bring that fun side out of you.”

Still looking away you cup his chubby cheeks, thumb rubbing against them and you kiss his forehead, he looks up at you, “If you think I’m only with you for the sex you’re wrong, dumbass.”

“I know. Sex is just a plus. You remind me that everyday we are together.

Though he was still a little pissy about your twice a month comment he pulled you closer, chest to chest, “yeah? I feel the same way, and the whole reason why I started having consistent sex with you is to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yeah….we dated for 2 years and never done it…gatta make up for it.”

“Baby we been having sex for 3 weeks straight, 5 days a week.”

“So.”

“We started having sex almost 4 months ago.”

“SO?! Jeez if you don’t like fucking then tell me.”

“Oh no…pfft I love when we do this. You make pretty faces when I ride you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Nah…but can I fuck you?”

You didn’t let him respond back, you just kissed him again, before adjusting your body to grind against his already growing erection again.

“Damn nympho.” Bakugo wanted to retort again, but it was broken up into a strained groan when you started stroking his dick.

“Takes one to know one.”

[mssalo]

after hours

Joel Miller has been yours for a month now, and while things between you are steady, Jackson’s demands have kept you too busy for his liking. Missing you fiercely, Joel decides to pick you up after a late night, only for his mood to sour when Paul monopolizes your time. What starts as a simple check-in turns into something much more when Joel finally gets you alone or well... the other way around.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Sub!Joel, Dom!fem!reader, explicit sexual content, oral (m! and f! receiving), throat fucking, Joel nearly getting rimmed (not quite yet, though - we getting there), Joel kissing your feet for a sec, jealousy (hello, Paul), office sex kinda, praise kink, Joel being a desperate, needy mess, - and soft emotional moments because I'm nice

This can be read as a standalone but officially its part two of ma'am.

7k. Enjoy!

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The sun had long since set, casting Jackson in a blanket of cool twilight. Joel sat at the small kitchen table in his house, staring down at the unlit candle sitting in front of him.

He turned it slowly between his rough fingers, the faint scent of something warm and sweet drifting up to him- something that reminded him of you.

He’d found it earlier on patrol, tucked away in an abandoned cabin, and the moment the smell hit him, you’d been all he could think about.

The softness of it, the quiet comfort - it was you to him. He wasn’t sure why he picked it up, not at first.

Gifts weren’t exactly something he knew how to give anymore, and hell, he didn’t even know if it was too early for something like this. A month together wasn’t long, but for Joel, it felt like something impossible.

You had slipped into his life like sunlight, warm and steady, breaking through cracks he didn’t know were there. In just a month, you’d pulled him out of a place he thought he’d never leave, and it scared him sometimes - how much he cared. How much he wanted to hold onto you.

But lately, Jackson had taken up so much of your time. You still saw each other - quiet dinners, soft conversations, and kisses stolen in the fading light of day but that’s all there had been.

Between long shifts, late nights, and endless meetings, you’d been stretched thin, and Joel could see it. He didn’t resent you for it - how could he? You were the heart of this place, keeping everything and everyone steady. It was just…

He missed you.

And tonight, when the clock struck well past 11, and you still hadn’t come home, something in him stirred. Joel wasn’t the type to chase someone down, but tonight, he couldn’t just sit in the quiet house anymore.

With a deep sigh, he grabbed his jacket, stuffing the candle carefully into his pocket. The cold air bit at his skin as he stepped out onto the gravel path, boots crunching softly as he made his way toward the main building where he knew you’d still be.

As he climbed the stairs and spotted the warm light glowing from beneath your office door, he felt some of the tension ease in his chest.

You were safe. Good. But then he heard it—soft voices, yours and another man’s - Paul.

Joel paused just outside, his jaw clenching. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but something about it—about how Paul’s voice carried that too-familiar tone, how your own voice stayed calm and professional - made his teeth grind.

Paul. Joel knew exactly who he was, young, good-looking, dependable. Always where you were, always taking up your time. Joel resented him for it. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was damn sure Paul wanted you - how could he not? Hell, Joel figured everyone did.

You were strong, beautiful, impossible to ignore.

And Joel? He still didn’t quite know how he’d gotten lucky enough to have you, and it ate at him, hearing Paul’s voice when he wanted to see and talk to you so badly himself.

His brow furrowed, and he stopped just outside the slightly ajar door.

“- appreciate the update, Paul,” you were saying, your voice calm and professional. “We’ll make adjustments to the roster tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Paul replied, his tone polite but with a hint of familiarity that set Joel’s teeth on edge.

Joel peeked through the crack in the door and felt his chest tighten.

You were leaning partially against your desk, your posture relaxed but commanding, your sleeves pushed up to your elbows as you gestured toward a stack of papers in front of you.

The soft lamplight illuminated your face, highlighting the curve of your jaw, the way your blouse clung just right.

You looked… god, you looked so fucking good.

Too good.

Joel’s jaw worked as he stepped into the doorway, his hand gripping the frame. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, his presence heavy and awkward.

You glanced up at him, your brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “Joel?”

He shifted on his feet, his gaze flicking between you and Paul, unsure of what to say. His fists clenched at his sides, and he suddenly felt out of place, like he was intruding.

Paul turned to look at him as well, his expression polite but curious. “Evening, Joel,” he said with a nod.

Joel gave a tight nod in return, his lips pressing into a thin line as he struggled to think of something to say. But his gaze kept drifting back to you - your relaxed posture, the slight smirk tugging at your lips as you studied him.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you read the situation.

“I think we can wrap up for tonight, Paul,” you said smoothly, your voice taking on a sharper edge. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow.”

Paul blinked, glancing between the two of you before nodding. “Sure. Have a good night.”

You waited until Paul had gathered his things and stepped out of the office before turning your full attention to Joel. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the desk, one brow arched as you studied him.

“Well?” you said, your tone light but teasing. “What’s on your mind, Miller?”

Joel shuffled his feet, his eyes darting to the floor. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “Just… you were workin’ late. Wanted to check on you.”

Your lips curved into a slow smile, and you pushed off the desk, stepping toward him. “And here I thought you were giving Paul the stink eye,” you teased, stopping just in front of him.

Joel’s ears burned, and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “Wasn’t givin’ him anythin’,” he mumbled, his gaze stubbornly avoiding yours.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head as you watched him squirm. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Joel’s voice was quiet, thick with a mix of concern and something deeper. “You shouldn’t work so late,” he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours for just a moment before darting away again. “It ain’t good for you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into a soft smile. “Baby, I’m alright,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

But Joel’s jaw tightened, and his shoulders remained stiff. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a clear sign he was holding something back.

You stepped closer, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his scruffy cheeks. “Hey,” you murmured, leaning in until your forehead almost touched his. “I mean it. I’m okay. You can breathe, you know.”

He exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into your touch. “Just… can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice rough and low. “You do too much. Somebody’s gotta make sure you take care of yourself.”

Your smile softened, and you pressed a brief, chaste kiss to his forehead. “You’re sweet,” you said, your tone teasing but warm. “But I’ve got this, Joel. I promise.”

With that, you turned back to the desk, leaning slightly as you reached for a stack of papers you’d been organizing before Joel arrived.

Your blouse shifted as you moved, the fabric pulling taut across your back and revealing a hint of the smooth skin at your waist. You pushed up your sleeves absentmindedly, as you flipped through the papers with a focused efficiency that had Joel rooted in place.

Joel tried to focus on your words, on the way you calmly explained whatever you’d been discussing with Paul before he barged in, but his mind betrayed him.

His eyes trailed over the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the way your pants hugged your hips. His pulse quickened, heat creeping up his neck as he imagined you sitting back on that desk, your legs spread as you guided his head between them.

Fuck.

Joel clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides as he tried to shove the thought away, but it was no use.

The image was too vivid—the taste of you, the sound of your breathy moans, the way you’d hold his hair as he worshipped you. He could practically feel the pressure of your thighs around his head, your voice low and commanding as you told him to keep going, good boy.

“Joel?”

Your voice jolted him from his spiraling thoughts, and his head snapped up. You were looking over your shoulder, one eyebrow raised, your lips tugged into a curious smirk. “You okay over there?”

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Just… thinkin’.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, turning fully to face him now.

You leaned back against the desk, crossing your arms over your chest, and Joel’s eyes—completely against his will—dropped for a fraction of a second before snapping back up. Your smirk deepened, and Joel’s ears burned.

“You sure about that?” you teased, tilting your head. “Because it seems like your thoughts might be wandering.”

“I—” Joel started, but the words caught in his throat.

He looked away, his hands twitching at his sides as he fought to regain control. But the way you leaned against the desk, your confidence radiating in every movement, was doing things to him he couldn’t stop.

You watched him for a moment, your eyes narrowing slightly, your smirk softening into something more thoughtful.

Then, you straightened, uncrossing your arms and stepping closer. “Joel,” you said softly, your voice dropping just enough to make his heart skip. “What’s really on your mind?”

His breath hitched as you closed the distance between you, your fingers brushing lightly over his forearm.

He wanted to answer, but the words tangled in his throat, his mind still clouded with the image of you, the way you’d look under him—no, above him.

You tilted your head, studying him like you could see right through him, and your lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I see,” you murmured, your voice dripping with amusement.

Joel’s mouth opened, then closed again. He shook his head quickly, his ears burning, but you didn’t let him squirm away this time.

You stepped even closer, your fingers trailing up to rest lightly against his chest. “Come on, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft but teasing. “You can tell me.”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting to yours, then away again. “It’s… I just—” He stopped, his hands clenching at his sides as he let out a frustrated sigh. “You make it impossible to think, y’know that?”

Your smile widened, your head tilting as you regarded him.

“Oh?” you said, your tone light but edged with something darker, something that made Joel’s stomach flip. “And what exactly are you thinking about?”

Joel hesitated, his gaze flicking to the desk behind you for just a second before he looked away again, his jaw tightening. But it was enough. Your eyes sparkled with realization, and you leaned in, your voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Thinking about me on that desk, baby?” you murmured, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Thinking about how good it’d feel to put that mouth of yours to work?”

Joel’s breath hitched, his entire body going taut as he stared at you, his pupils blown wide. “I—fuck,” he rasped, his voice breaking

Your smirk deepened, and you reached up to brush your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing his scalp. “Go on, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like velvet. “Say it.”

Joel’s breath hitched, his entire body going taut as he stared at you, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he was caught mid-thought.

“I—fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking under the weight of whatever was bubbling inside him.

You smirked, tilting your head, and let your fingers glide into his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp.

Joel swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“All day, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you—‘bout gettin’ my mouth on you. Feelin’ your thighs against my face, your taste on my tongue. Can’t stop.” His voice dropped into a low growl, his breath uneven.

“Can’t even fuckin’ think straight when you’re standin’ there lookin’ like that.”

You raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Didn’t I take care of you this morning, sweet one?”

His jaw flexed, and he groaned softly, his eyes dropping to your lips, then trailing over your body with an intensity that made your stomach clench.

“It wasn’t enough,” he muttered, voice desperate. “It’s never enough. You ruin me, darlin’. I just… I need you.”

You leaned back against the desk, arms crossed casually over your chest, and his eyes followed the movement, locking onto the subtle shift of your body.

“Take my pants off, Joel,” you said, your voice calm but firm, like it was the simplest request in the world.

Joel’s breath hitched again, his fingers already moving before he could fully process your words.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he stepped closer. His hands were unsteady, reverent, as they found the waistband of your pants, hesitating for just a moment before undoing the button and sliding the zipper down.

The air between you crackled as he knelt in front of you, his hands gently tugging your pants down over your hips.

His lips parted, and you heard the faintest gasp as your panties came into view, a darkened spot already visible where your arousal soaked through.

“Goddamn,” Joel muttered, his voice low and wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t even know what you do to me.”

You smirked, leaning forward slightly, one hand brushing through his hair. “I know exactly what I do to you, baby,” you murmured. “That’s why you’re on your knees for me, isn’t it?”

Joel tugged the rest of your pants free, his movements quick and deliberate, pausing only to slide your shoes off and set them aside.

The moment your legs were bare, he hesitated, his eyes darting down to your feet before he leaned in suddenly, pressing his lips to the top of one foot.

The soft, warm press of his mouth sent a shiver through you, and you let out a startled laugh, tilting your head as you looked down at him. “Joel,” you said, your voice low with curiosity and amusement. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his lips traveled over the arch of your foot, slow and reverent, and when he finally spoke, his voice was thick and trembling.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. Every part of you—” His tongue flicked out briefly, dragging along the delicate curve of your ankle. “—drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

Your breath caught as his hands slid up to cradle your calves, his lips brushing against the arch of your other foot.

“Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft but edged with heat. “Are you a feet-guy now?”

His head snapped up, his cheeks flushed, but his eyes were dark with pure, unfiltered want.

“I’m a you guy,” he rasped, his voice rough and uneven. “I’d worship every inch of you if you let me, ma’am.”

The sincerity and desperation in his voice made heat pool low in your belly, and you smirked, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Every inch, huh?” you teased, your tone sultry. “Guess I should let you, then.”

His lips parted as he stared up at you, his chest heaving like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Please,” he whispered, the single word dripping with need as his hands gripped your legs tighter. “Let me.”

Joel didn’t hesitate when you gave him a soft nod, your smirk still firmly in place.

His hands slid slowly down your thighs, reverent and careful, like you might vanish if he wasn’t gentle.

Joels lips parted as he lowered his head, brushing a slow, deliberate kiss against your knee before trailing lower, his breath warm and shaky against your skin.

“Go on, baby,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilted your head, watching him with a lazy sort of dominance. “Show me how much you mean it.”

Joel groaned softly, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs tighter. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, the heat of his lips sending a shiver up your spine.

His nose brushed against your skin as he moved closer, inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “Smell so good. Always do.”

Your smirk deepened, and you gave his hair a soft tug, guiding him closer to where you wanted him.

“You’ve got a smart mouth when it comes to saying all the right things, Joel,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, put it to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel rasped, his voice trembling. He didn’t waste another second, his lips brushing against the damp fabric of your panties.

The first touch made him groan, the sound desperate and guttural as he pressed his face closer, his nose nudging against your clit.

You gasped softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. “That’s it, baby,” you whispered, your tone calm and encouraging. “Yeah, just like that.”

Joel’s tongue flicked out, dragging along the wet patch that had already formed against the thin fabric.

He moaned as the taste of you hit his tongue, and the vibrations of the sound sent a sharp jolt of heat through your core.

His lips latched onto you through your panties, sucking softly as his nose pressed harder against your clit, grinding into you with every movement.

“You’re such a good boy, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like silk. “Look at you, so desperate to please. Bet you’ve been thinking about this all day.”

He whimpered, his hands sliding up to grip your hips as he buried his face deeper against you.

“Every day,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Think about it every damn day. Wanna taste you, wanna make you feel so good.”

You smiled, the sound low and indulgent as you gave his hair another tug. “Then take them off, baby,” you whispered, your tone commanding but patient. “Show me how much you want it.”

Joel’s hands shook as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, his lips brushing against your hip as he slid them down your legs.

He didn’t even bother to move them completely out of the way, his attention entirely on the sight of you bared before him. His breath hitched, and he licked his lips, his eyes dark and filled with reverence.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice wrecked.

You chuckled softly, leaning back against the desk and letting your thighs fall open a little wider.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs as he leaned in, his lips parting to drag his tongue slowly through your folds.

The first taste always made him moan so loudly you couldn’t help but smile, and his tongue worked with desperate precision, lapping at your entrance before moving up to flick over your clit.

“Fuck, Joel,” you breathed, your nails grazing against his scalp. “You’re so eager, baby. So good at this.”

He whimpered against you, his tongue pressing harder against your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently.

His nose brushed against you with every movement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body as he lost himself in you.

“Keep going, baby,” you whispered, your tone calm but firm.

Joel moaned again, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as his tongue worked faster, licking and sucking like a man possessed.

He was all-in, his desperation and devotion pouring into every movement, every sound, every shuddering breath.

Joel pulled back briefly, his face slick with your arousal, his breaths heavy and uneven. His thick fingers slid up your inner thighs, his touch featherlight, reverent, like he was handling something holy.

He reached your folds, his large fingers spreading your pussy lips apart, exposing your swollen, glistening clit to his dark, hungry gaze.

“Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice low and trembling as he stared.

His fingers gently held you open, and for a moment, all he could do was look - memorizing the way you glistened, the way your cunt clenched with anticipation.

His mouth opened slightly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he bit down softly on the plush skin of your inner thigh, making you jolt.

“Joel,” you warned, your voice thick with arousal. “Don’t just look.”

Slowly, he leaned in to take your throbbing clit into his mouth again. - But then, under his breath, he grumbled,"Bet that asshole Paul ain't ever seen somethin' this fuckin' pretty."

Your brows furrowed immediately, the heat between you both briefly eclipsed by confusion. "Paul?" you snapped, your grip tightening in his hair, pulling his head back roughly.

Joel winced but didn't dare meet your eyes, his cheeks flushed as his lips glistened from where he'd already tasted you.

"You're jealous?" you demanded, a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone, though there was something undeniably sultry in the way you said it.

Joel stammered, shaking his head, though his guilty expression betrayed him. "I just- he don't deserve to be 'round you like that."

You blinked, momentarily surprised by his audacity.

Then, something wicked curled in your chest, and your smirk returned as you leaned forward, your fingers threading into his hair to tug him to his feet.

Joel stumbled up, flustered, his face red as you pushed him back against the table with a force that knocked the breath out of him.

"You're jealous of Paul," you said again, quieter now, voice dripping with mock disdain as you stepped closer, your hips brushing against his.

Joel swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of the table for balance as you caged him in, your body pressing against his like he had nowhere to go.

His lips parting to reply, but no sound came out. His eyes darted to yours, wide and needy as you leaned in close, your lips ghosting over his ear.

"Would I touch Paul like this, Joel?" you murmured, your voice low and teasing as your hand slid down to press against the thick bulge straining in his pants.

Joel let out a strangled whimper, his hips jerking forward instinctively at the contact.

"Answer me," you commanded softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to make him groan. "Would he be this hard for me?"

"Fuck-no," Joel choked out, his voice wrecked and trembling. His knuckles turned white where he gripped the table, his whole body tense beneath your touch. "Ain't no one else gets this. Just me. Please - always me, ma'am."

"That's what I thought," you whispered, a smug smile curving your lips as you slowly unbuttoned his pants.

Joel's chest rose and fell in sharp, shaky breaths as he watched your every move, his gaze dark and glassy with need.

"You think Paul could ever handle me the way you do?" you continued, teasing the waistband of his boxers now, your fingers brushing the bare skin of his hips. "Think he'd know how to please me like you do, baby?"

Joel shook his head desperately, his voice barely a whisper as he rasped, "No, ma'am.Never."

"Good boy," you purred, leaning back just enough to look him in the eye.

Joel's hips bucked forward slightly, his cock throbbing beneath your touch, but you stilled him with a firm press of your hand.

"You really think l'd let anyone else have me like this?" you murmured, your tone low and commanding. "You think I'd let anyone but you eat my cunt in this office?"

Joel whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he let out a shaky, broken sound that shot straight to your core.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Please— don't stop."

You smirked, leaning down to press your lips to the corner of his jaw, letting your teeth graze his skin. "You want me to prove it to you, hm, baby?"

Joel nodded frantically, his head falling back as his entire body trembled beneath you.

"Yes," he breathed, his voice raw and needy.

"Please... Show me l'm yours. I'll do anything, ma'am. Anything."

And with that, you sank back down to your knees in front of him, dragging his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, leaving him bare and vulnerable as you stared up at him, the wicked gleam in your eyes making Joel's cock throb painfully in anticipation.

"Alright, handsome," you whispered darkly, your lips brushing over the sensitive tip of him as Joel let out a desperate groan, his hips jerking forward.

"Be a good boy, and I'll make you feel like the only man in the world."

Joel's head tipped back, his hands scrambling for purchase on the edge of the table as your mouth closed around him, and the only word he could manage was a broken, worshipful, "Fuck."

You kissed along the thick length of his cock, slow and deliberate, dragging your tongue in a wet line up the underside until you reached the sensitive tip.

Joel’s body tensed, and a deep, broken groan tore from his throat as his hips jerked forward, chasing your touch.

“Ma‘am,” he choked out, his voice rough, his knuckles white where he gripped the desk behind him. His chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths, eyes blown wide with need as they met yours.

You smirked wickedly, your lips brushing over his flushed, aching head. “Yeah, baby?” you teased, your voice dripping with dark amusement as you kissed him softly, deliberately avoiding where he wanted you most.

“Looks like you’ve been neglected.” You licked up the shaft again, savoring the way he whimpered, the sound breaking into a low, strangled growl. “But that’s on me, huh? I’ve been so busy…”

Joel’s head tipped back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re—fuck, you’re what Jackson needs,” he stammered, his voice wrecked and almost pleading. “S’okay. I get it. You—you’re keepin’ us safe.”

His hands shook as he forced himself to look back at you, his eyes glassy with desperation.

“Oh, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like silk as you nipped lightly at the sensitive skin, making him jolt with a sharp inhale.

“Jackson might need me—but I got someone else at home who needs me now too, hm?” You shot him a pointed look, your tongue flicking out to swirl around the tip as Joel let out a wrecked noise that made you clench around nothing.

His breath stuttered, his entire body trembling beneath your touch. “Me,” he rasped, his voice cracking into a whimper, the word soft and desperate as it fell from his lips.

You hummed, lips curling as you dragged your tongue along the sensitive ridge beneath his head before wrapping your mouth around him completely, taking him slow and deep until the tip nudged the back of your throat.

Joel let out a loud, guttural groan, his hips jerking involuntarily as he felt the wet heat of your mouth envelop him completely.

You pulled back just enough to let him slip free, a trail of spit and pre-cum stretching between your lips and his swollen, aching cock.

It twitched violently in the cool air, slick and flushed dark at the tip, thick veins standing out along his length as it oozed a steady bead of milky pre-cum.

Your eyes trailed over it with a wicked glint, drinking in the sight of him—so messy, so utterly ruined—and your lips curled into a slow, smug smile as you lazily pumped him with your slick hand.

The noise it made was filthy, each movement a slow, deliberate glide of your palm over his slicked skin. “Look at you, Joel. You’re already such a mess for me.”

You dragged your thumb over his leaking slit, smearing the pre-cum down the length of him, and his hips bucked sharply, a strangled groan tearing from his throat.

“Christ,” he choked, his head falling back, his jaw slack as his chest heaved. “Darlin’, please - please, I- ”

“Please what?” you teased, your tone light and mocking as you leaned back in, your lips brushing over the tip again, barely there.

Joel’s whole body jolted, and he whimpered—so loudly—as your tongue darted out to swirl around him, gathering the salty slick that had gathered there.

“Wanna fuck my throat, baby?” you murmured darkly, your gaze locked on his as your lips curled into a slow smile.

“Is that what you’re so desperate for? Hm? That big cock of yours buried all the way in, feelin’ me tight around you?”

Joel let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a plea, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice raw and wrecked. “God, yes, darlin’. I—fuck—please.”

“Then go ahead,” you purred, your hand stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. “Go on, Joel. Take it.”

He froze for half a second, as if the permission short-circuited his brain, before he stepped closer, his hands finally leaving the desk to cradle your jaw.

You let your mouth fall open, your tongue teasing his tip as he slid in, slow and careful, testing the waters. Your eyes stayed locked on his, and you hummed approvingly, encouraging him to move deeper.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you murmured between breaths, your voice thick with sin. “I can take it.”

Joel groaned, deep and guttural, as he pushed further, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You swallowed around him, and the sound that ripped from his chest was wrecked, his hips twitching as he fought not to lose control.

Slowly, he rocked forward, fucking into your mouth with careful, shallow thrusts, each movement slick and filthy with spit and pre-cum. You could feel him throbbing, could hear the desperate, broken noises spilling from him every time he hit just right.

“Jesus,” Joel gritted out, his voice low and wrecked as his fingers threaded into your hair, guiding you gently. “Feels so fuckin’ good, ma“am. So fuckin’ perfect—goddamn.”

You let him thrust just a little deeper, taking him until your nose pressed against the dark curls at the base of his cock.

Your throat flexed around him, swallowing him whole, and the growl that tore from his chest was loud and shattered, his control slipping further.

He pulled back, your spit trailing in thick, messy strings along his length, and you let out a satisfied hum as you pulled away completely, your lips wet and slick with him.

But you weren’t done.

Your hands slid up his thighs as you leaned lower, pressing your lips to his balls. Joel’s hips jolted sharply, his legs trembling beneath him as you kissed him softly, your tongue flicking out to trace the sensitive skin.

You smirked against him, releasing him with a wet pop before flattening your tongue and dragging it slowly, teasingly, down the sensitive skin just beneath his balls.

Joel’s whole body jerked, his knees threatening to give out as he let out a choked, desperate shout, his fingers tightening painfully in your hair.

“Yes,” he gasped, the word breaking as it tumbled out of him. “Yes, fuck, yes!” His voice cracked, hoarse and wrecked, as you continued your slow, deliberate path, your tongue barely grazing where he was most sensitive.

The filthy noises spilling from him grew louder, more frantic, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you pushed him further and further over the edge.

“Like that, baby?” you purred, pulling back just enough to whisper against the trembling skin. “Want me to lick even lower, huh? Is that what you want?”

Joel let out something between a sob and a growl, his head snapping back as his mouth fell open, panting for air like a man starved.

His body shook violently, and before he could even get the words out, his release hit - a sharp, shuddering jolt that tore through him like lightning.

“Fuck- oh, ma‘am- fuck!” Joel roared, his hips surging forward as his cock throbbed and pulsed, spurting hot, thick ropes of cum across your face and blouse, the first one hitting so hard you moaned softly at the sheer force of it.

His voice echoed off the walls, a deep, primal sound that he didn’t try to be quiet - didn’t care who heard.

“Shit- oh, darlin’ - fuck, I- ” Joel was lost to it, wrecked and trembling, his hands shaking in your hair as his cock twitched again, more of his release spilling onto your tongue and chin.

You caught as much of it as you could, sucking softly at the head of him as he moaned, loud and shattered, the tension in his body finally breaking.

“Such a good boy for me, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice thick with satisfaction as you swirled your tongue lazily over his still-pulsing tip, gathering the last drops of him.

His cock was slick and messy now, glistening with cum and your spit, and the sight of him—ruined and trembling, his thighs shaking so hard he could barely stand—made you smirk with pure satisfaction.

Joel’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stared down at you, his face flushed and wrecked, his chest heaving like he’d run for miles.

“Jesus,” he rasped, his voice barely there, as if the words were dragged out of him.

You licked at your lips, smearing a streak of his release off your cheek with your thumb before sliding it into your mouth, sucking softly as you held his gaze.

Joel’s body jerked at the sight, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he couldn’t decide whether to pull you up or drop to his knees.

“Made such a mess, baby,” you teased softly, reaching up to stroke his still-twitching cock, your hand gliding easily over the slick mess coating him.

Joel groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips gave an involuntary jerk at your touch.

“Didn’t even care who heard you, huh?”

Joel let out a low, wrecked sound, his face buried in his arm as he leaned heavily against the desk for support. “Don’t fuckin’ care,” he muttered, his voice muffled and rough. “Let ‘em hear. Let ‘em all know I’m yours.”

You smirked, rising slowly to your feet, your body grazing his as you straightened. Joel’s hands found your waist immediately, his grip still shaky, like he needed to hold on to you or risk collapsing completely.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, low and sweet, “That’s right, baby. You’re mine.”

Joel groaned softly, his head tilting back to meet your gaze, those dark eyes still heavy-lidded, glassy with the remnants of his release.

There was something else there too - something softer, flickering in the depths as he stared at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Always yours,” he rasped, his voice still wrecked but thick with something deeper. “No one else, darlin’. Just you.”

Your smirk softened, your fingers sliding up to trace along the stubble of his jaw before you cupped his face gently in your hands. “Yeah?” you murmured.

Joel’s breath hitched as you tilted your head and kissed him—softly, slowly—your lips molding to his in a kiss that stripped away the desperation and left nothing but warmth.

He sighed into it, his arms wrapping fully around you now, pulling you in close until you were flush against him.

You pulled back just slightly, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “I’m yours too. Always.”

Joel’s chest heaved, his hands tightening on your waist as his thumb traced slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“Okay, baby? No need to give Paul the stinky eye,” you teased softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

Joel’s brows knit together, his face shifting into something defensive but playful as he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“I wasn’t givin’ him the stinky eye,” he grumbled, though the way his jaw twitched betrayed him.

You snorted, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up. “Joel,” you teased, your grin spreading wide.

Joel’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through, and he huffed softly, shaking his head. “You’re seein’ things, darlin’,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind his words.

You laughed harder, leaning your forehead against his as his low, rough chuckle finally broke free, rumbling deep in his chest.

The sound sent warmth flooding through you, and before you could say another word, his lips found yours again.

This kiss was softer now—easy, lingering, the kind of kiss that said I’m here, and you’re mine.

Joel’s hands slid up your sides, cradling you close as you melted into him, the laughter fading into something softer, something sweeter.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, you brushed your nose against his. “You were totally giving him the stinky eye,” you murmured, grinning.

Joel chuckled again, shaking his head as he pressed another kiss to your lips—soft, deliberate, and warm. “Maybe,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and fond. “Maybe I was.”

Smiling, you brushed your fingers along his jaw, your touch gentle, grounding. “You’re the sexiest and most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on,” you murmured softly, the sincerity in your voice leaving no room for doubt.

Joel froze for just a moment, his brow furrowing slightly like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. Then, his face softened, his cheeks coloring just a little as his lips curved into a lopsided smile.

“You really think that?” he asked quietly, his voice rough, almost uncertain, as though he didn’t quite believe it.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “No, Joel. I know that. Don’t go gettin’ all humble on me now.”

Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, your voice a whisper. “No one else could hold a candle to you, Joel Miller. You’ve got no reason to be jealous of anyone.”

He huffed out a small laugh, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer, like he needed to feel you against him to believe it.

After a minute - you stepped back. “C’mon, handsome,” you teased, your voice soft but playful, “let’s get home, yeah?” You winked at him, your grin infectious.

Joel huffed a soft laugh, his hands still resting on your hips. “Yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, proud smile. “I got somethin’ for you at home. A little somethin’ I found today.”

Your eyes lit up, curiosity sparking as you tugged his hand gently. “Ooh, a present? You’re spoilin’ me, Miller,” you teased, grinning wide.

Joel chuckled, ears red, shaking his head as he let you pull him along.

· · ──𖥸

“A candle?” you breathed, your eyes widening as you turned it over in your hands, the label simple but faintly worn.

The smell of something warm and sweet reached your nose, and you blinked up at Joel, completely caught off guard.

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flickering to the floor as a faint pink crept across his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he said, a little awkwardly, his voice low. “Found it while we were out on patrol. Smell reminded me of you… I don’t know, somethin’ soft and warm—real nice. Figured maybe you’d… like it.”

He shifted slightly, his hands fidgeting against his jeans as he added quickly, “I mean, it’s nothin’ fancy. If it’s too much or too soon—”

“Joel,” you interrupted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you brought the candle closer, inhaling the faint, soothing scent.

Something in your chest tightened, an unexpected warmth spreading through you that made your throat feel thick. It had been so long—years, really—since anyone had given you something just because they thought of you.

Joel paused mid-ramble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, worry lingering in his expression.

Before he could say anything else, you stepped forward and kissed him—soft, sweet, and lingering.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice shaky, tears threatening to spill as you smiled up at him. “Thank you so much, Joel. You don’t… you don’t know what this means to me.”

Joel’s brows softened, his hands reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice warm and low, “you’re welcome, darlin’. I just… I wanted you to have somethin’ nice. Somethin’ that’s yours.”

You smiled, blinking through the tears as you leaned into his touch.

“No one’s given me a gift since I was seventeen,” you admitted softly, a hint of laughter in your voice as you tried to play it off, but Joel’s expression only grew more tender.

“Well, I’m makin’ up for lost time, then,” he said, his voice steady, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You let out a soft laugh, pressing your forehead against his, your hand still clutching the candle like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re somethin’ else, Joel Miller,” you whispered, your voice fond and thick with emotion.

Joel chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through your hair. “Yeah, well… you’re worth it.”

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello queen. You are my favourite writer on tumblr. I'm always so excited when I see that you updated something. Could I please request Carlos daughter being a huge Barcelona football fan instead of Real Madrid. And when the drivers all together watch a game against those two and Real wins, Carlos daughter running to Charles cause her father made her team lose

Thank you so much 💓

Real vs Barca

The paddock buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Engineers ran last-minute checks, journalists hovered with their microphones at the ready, and fans crowded the stands, hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. But amid all the racing chaos, Carlos had only one thing on his mind today: El Clásico.

It wasn’t just any match—it was Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. A day of rivalry, passion, and, most importantly, a chance for him to rub in Madrid’s superiority once and for all.

But there was one major problem.

His own daughter, Yn, was a Barcelona fan.

Carlos still didn’t understand how it happened. He had done everything right. When Yn was born, he had immediately wrapped her in a Real Madrid onesie, played Madrid anthems in the nursery, and even taught her to clap whenever he said “Hala Madrid.” For a while, it worked. She would happily wear Madrid’s white jersey, cheering along without question.

Then she turned four.

Suddenly, she had opinions. Suddenly, she loved FC Barcelona.

It had started with her favorite color—blue. Then it was the cool Barcelona crest, then the way her little heart decided Gavi was her favorite player. And now, today, in the motorhome filled with drivers who came to watch the game, she stood proudly in a tiny Barcelona jersey with Gavi’s name printed on the back.

Carlos groaned in despair.

“Mi amor, por favor, why are you doing this to me?” he sighed dramatically, kneeling to her level.

Yn giggled, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “Barca is the best, Papá!”

“No, mija, Madrid is the best,” Carlos corrected, fixing her jersey like he could erase the colors from existence. “We are Madridistas in this house.”

Yn shook her head firmly. “I am Barca.”

“Dios mío,” Carlos muttered, standing up as Max, Lando, Pierre, and Charles walked into the room, holding bowls of snacks and drinks.

“Are we ready for the drama?” Lando smirked, plopping onto the couch.

“The game or the father-daughter war?” Pierre teased, nodding toward Carlos, who had his arms crossed, glaring at the tiny Barcelona fan.

“The war,” Max answered, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Because if Barca wins, Carlos might actually cry.”

Carlos groaned. “She’s four! She’s supposed to listen to me.”

“She’s four,” Charles corrected, leaning against the table with a smug grin. “She does what she wants.”

Yn grinned up at her uncle Charlie and reached her little arms out. “Up!”

Carlos watched in horror as his own daughter abandoned him and climbed into Charles’ arms, snuggling against him.

“Oh, come on!” Carlos threw his hands in the air. “She’s my daughter!”

“She’s also my niece,” Charles teased, poking Yn’s side and making her giggle. “And clearly, she has taste.”

“She does not have taste!” Carlos objected. “She’s four, she doesn’t even know what taste is!”

Yn gasped dramatically. “I do know! And Barca is better.”

Max whistled lowly. “Oof, Carlos, I think she’s got you there.”

Carlos covered his face with his hands. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

As the game started, the room filled with anticipation. Carlos sat on the couch, Yn nestled beside Charles, her little legs swinging off the edge. Every time Barcelona touched the ball, she cheered loudly, clapping her hands.

Carlos groaned. His own daughter was against him.

“She’s happy,” Charles said with a chuckle, rubbing Yn’s back.

“I am not,” Carlos deadpanned.

The game was intense. Real Madrid took the lead, and Carlos cheered loudly, pumping his fists in the air. Yn pouted, crossing her arms. Then Barcelona equalized, and she jumped up, screaming excitedly, throwing her little arms around Charles.

Carlos watched in betrayal.

When Real Madrid scored again, Carlos lifted his arms victoriously.

“¡Vamos! That’s what I’m talking about!” He grinned at Yn. “See, mi amor? Madrid is better.”

Yn stuck out her tongue at him. “Not true!”

The final minutes were nerve-wracking, but when the referee blew the whistle, the score read 2-1 to Real Madrid.

Carlos jumped up, celebrating like he had won a Grand Prix.

Yn, however, looked absolutely devastated. Her little face fell, her lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears.

“Mi niña, don’t be sad,” Carlos said quickly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s just a game, okay? You’ll win next time.”

Yn sniffled. Then, her little eyebrows furrowed, and she glared at Carlos.

“This is your fault.”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

Yn stomped her tiny foot. “You were too happy! That’s why Barca lost!”

The entire room erupted into laughter.

“No, no, no,” Carlos quickly shook his head, trying to grab her hands, but Yn turned and ran straight into Charles’ arms.

Carlos was left, kneeling on the floor, watching as his daughter buried her little face into Charles’ chest while he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Carlos,” Lando wheezed through laughter.

Pierre wiped a tear from his eye. “Man, you shouldn't have cheered so much for Real. Look at poor Yn.”

“Not my fault!” Carlos objected, still in shock. “Why am I the bad guy?”

Yn peeked up from Charles’ shoulder and glared at her Papá. “Because you made Barca lose.”

Carlos groaned dramatically. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Max clapped him on the back. “At least Madrid won?”

Carlos sighed, defeated, watching his daughter cling to Charles. He would need a new strategy. Maybe next season, he could convince her to switch teams. Until then… he had lost this battle.

But not the war.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves!I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[trashogram]

Honey, I Shrunk

Satan/Reader - Your man hates shrinking down to your size bc he’s already a little bitch

{Rated M forrrrrrr the whole point of this silly ficlet}

*~*~*~*

You sighed while leaning back on your elbows, and eyeing up your lover as he literally towered above you.

“Sweetheart, why do you have to make this so difficult?” You asked in a sugarcoated tone.

Satan huffed through his nostrils, smoke and steam billowing into a short lived fog that hung above you. He looked down at you with four narrow eyes as blazing as the sun.

“This is enough.” He replied.

His stony response had you looking nonplussed, eyebrows raised at the blatant lie.

“You’re still big enough to flatten a good ten city blocks, babe.” Another sigh left your lips, ignorant of Satan’s mounting agitation. “And I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for erotic trampling tonight.”

“Unless you’re going with this size so that… it can look smaller?”

The behemoth Sin lunged forward with a bullish snort, full of wrath as he bore sharp teeth twice your size at you.

“You say I’m the one making things difficult but it’s you who is never satisfied!” He roared, blowing back your hair with his hot breath.

The expression on your face didn’t change. Satan huffed and puffed while you waited patiently before exhaling:

“You good?”

Another horse’s whinny, paired with the grating sound of his teeth grinding together sounded before Satan quietly took a couple of deep breaths. You paused before changing tactics, sitting up and shifting onto your knees so that you could crawl over to the face of your darling.

You reached out to him with a gentle hand, palm cool and reassuring over his molten scales. With ease and tenderness, you stroked a line down his tapered snout, adding your other hand before you leaned in to nuzzle him with your entire face.

“I just wanna feel you, Satan.” You admitted, adoration pouring through your every word. “I wanna feel your body on mine. I want you to hold me in your arms and kiss me until I’m breathless.”

The draconian Sin’s pinpointed pupils crossed to peer down at you when you kissed his snout.

“I wanna feel your heat inside me,” You murmured. “When we make love.”

The full-body shudder that followed from your lover echoed through your much smaller frame before Satan nudged you back onto the bed. You brushed aside the curtain of your hair in time to see him slowly shrink down. He was still a great deal larger than you, able to overpower you with his brute strength alone. And his quadra-horns only added to that height —

You grinned as a flush ran through you when he moved to join your bed. He climbed over you, the bed springs groaning — but not breaking — beneath his weight as he caged you in with his thick biceps and broad shoulders.

“Brat.” He rumbled, rubbing his crotch against yours as he breathed into your parted mouth. “I’d never let anyone get away with your impudent requests. But I guess you’ll have to learn that the hard way.”

You could hardly reign in your moan as you heard his buckle being undone. As a distraction, your hands came up to rest against his pectorals, gliding over the thin yet silky maroon material reverently.

“Can’t promise I won’t enjoy the punishment, Your Honor.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

WE SIT ON THE MYDEI FACE🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

☆ tws : nsfw／smut, pūssy eating, oral receiving, biting, creampie (vaginal), fate-sitting, dom & sub dynamic, slight dubcon, nipple play, obsessive ／ possessive mydei, rough sēx and degradation.

"You’re going to sit on my face," Mydei said, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for argument. He leaned back against the pillows, his broad shoulders propped up as he spread his legs, the bulge in his pants impossible to ignore. His golden, piercing eyes locked onto yours, daring you to defy him. "And don’t you dare try to tell me no."

Your face flushed crimson at his words, your heart hammering in your chest. The way he looked at you—hungry, intense, like you were the only thing he needed in that moment—made your knees weak. You stood at the edge of the bed, fidgeting nervously, unsure if you could actually go through with it.

"Come on," he said, his tone rough, impatient. "I’m not going to ask again. Get over here."

"I-I…" you stammered, unable to meet his gaze. The sheer bluntness of his demand had your head spinning, your body heating in ways you couldn’t control. "I don’t know if I can—"

"You can," he said firmly, cutting off your protest. "And you will. Stop doubting yourself. I want you on me, now."

Your breath hitched as he reached out, grabbing your wrist and tugging you forward. You stumbled onto the bed, your hands landing on his chest as you tried to steady yourself. His shirt was already discarded, and the heat of his bare skin against—your palms made you shiver.

"You’re too shy for your own good," he muttered, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer. "But I’ll fix that."

Before you could respond, he flipped you onto your back, his movements quick and effortless. You gasped as he hovered over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was rough, demanding, leaving you breathless. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, and when you whimpered, he growled against your mouth.

"You taste like heaven," he muttered, his voice rough and low. "But I’m not done with you yet."

He shifted, sitting back and pulling you up with him. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and he yanked it over your head, his eyes darkening as they roamed over your exposed skin. His fingers traced the edge of your bra before slipping beneath it, pulling it off in one swift motion.

"You’re perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with raw desire. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, do as I say."

He laid back again, his arms resting behind his head as he stared up at you, his expression both commanding and expectant. His cock strained against his pants, the outline—thick and unmistakable, but his focus was entirely on you.

"Take off the rest," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to see all of you."

Your hands trembled as you complied, sliding your panties down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. The cool air against your bare skin—made you shiver, and you couldn’t stop the way your thighs pressed together instinctively.

"Don’t be shy now," he teased, his voice rough but laced with amusement. "Come here."

You climbed onto the bed, your movements hesitant as you straddled his chest. The heat of his skin against—your thighs sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

"Closer," he commanded, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you forward. "I want to taste you."

Your heart raced as you moved up, your knees on either side of his head. His breath was warm—against your inner thighs, and you couldn’t stop the way your body responded to his closeness. You hovered nervously, unsure if you could actually do this.

"Sit," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Don’t make me tell you again."

You hesitated for only a moment before obeying, lowering yourself onto his face. The moment his tongue flicked against your folds, you cried out, your hands clutching at the headboard for support. He groaned against you, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice muffled but still rough and commanding. "You taste better than I imagined."

His tongue was relentless, exploring every inch of you with a precision that left you trembling. He circled your clit with deliberate strokes, teasing you, building the tension until you could barely breathe. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he worked you over, his tongue plunging into you and then retreating to tease you further.

"Mydei," you gasped, your voice shaky as your body tensed. "I—I can’t…"

"You can," he growled, pulling back just enough to speak. "And you will. Don’t hold back. Let me hear you."

His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, and you cried out, your hips bucking against his face. He groaned in response, his hands gripping you harder as he pulled you down against him. His tongue plunged into you again, and the sensation was too much, the pleasure building until you thought you might break.

When your orgasm finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you and leaving you breathless. You cried his name, your body trembling as he continued to work you through your climax, his tongue and lips relentless.

As you collapsed against him, trying to catch your breath, he chuckled darkly. "I’m not done with you yet."

His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you off him and flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. His eyes were dark with lust as he leaned over you, his cock straining against his pants.

"I hope you’re ready for more," he said, his voice rough and filled with promise. "Because I’m not stopping until I’ve had all of you."

"M—Mydei put it in…please…"

"Oh, I'll put it in alright," he growled, his voice low and husky with desire. He quickly shed his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. It throbbed with anticipation, the pink flesh glistening with pre—cum.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes blazing with intensity as he stared down at you. "You want me to fill you up, huh?" He reached down, gripping his cock and giving it a few slow strokes. "Then you better be ready for everything I've got."

With that, he aligned his cockhead with your entrance, the tip teasing your slick folds. You could feel the heat emanating from him, the power and dominance radiating off his imposing form.

"Last chance to back out," he warned, his voice a dark rasp. But he didn't wait for a response, instead surging forward in one powerful thrust. His cock sank into you inch by glorious inch, stretching you wide around his thick girth.

A guttural groan tore from his throat as he bottomed out, his pelvis pressed flush against yours. He stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep inside your welcoming heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, then begins to move, "You ready for this, (Name)? I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name."

He pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in, setting a brutal pace. His thick cock pistons in and out of your clenching pussy, each thrust a declaration of his possession.

"You're mine," he snarls, "Every inch of you, every hole, all for me to use as I please."

He reaches up to grope your tits roughly, pinching and tugging at your nipples as he pounds into you. The sensation of being so thoroughly taken, so completely claimed, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Yesyesyesyes— Mydei!" you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts. "Harder, please, I can take it!"

He snarls in approval, his hips snapping against yours with increased vigor. The bed creaks and groans beneath you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

"My precious treasure," he rasps, his eyes burning with a manic intensity.

"You'd think you'd learn to keep your greedy little cunt shut," Mydei grunts, "but I can't resist this sweet, slick vice squeezing my cock." He shifts his grip, one hand wrapping around your throat as the other continues to maul your breast, twisting the nipple between his fingers. "I'm not gentle. Never was, never will be."

He leans down, his hot breath ghosting over your cheek as he prepares to claim your mouth once more. In a brutal display of strength, he cups your jaw and yanks your face to meet his, plunging his tongue past your parted lips. He tastes himself on you, the musky flavor of his arousal melded with your own, and it only fuels his lust further.

Mydei's tongue invades every inch of your mouth, tangling with yours in a savage dance of dominance and submission. His hips continue their relentless pace, the force of his thrusts driving deep into your core. Your body quakes, overwhelmed by the storm of sensations, but there's no respite, no mercy in his relentless assault.

With a growl, he breaks the kiss, his chest heaving. "How's that, slut?" he asks, his voice rough with self-satisfaction.

"Amazing!" You moaned out loud, drooling all over his mouth. Mydei ran his fingers through your hair, and kissed your forehead.

"That's right, let me hear you enjoy it," Mydei purrs, his fingers gently scratching along your scalp before soothing the strands of your hair. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the brutal intensity of mere moments ago.

He pulls out of you with a wet pop, his cock slipping free as he lays you back onto the pillows, his powerful frame covering yours as he cradles you in his arms.

"Hush now, my love," he coos, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "You've been a very good girl, taking everything I gave you." He trails his lips along your jaw, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses across your skin as he works his way down your neck.

His hands roam over your body, gentling their touch as they explore every curve and hollow. He cups your tits, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples before easing the tender buds between his fingers. A soft moan escapes him at the feel of your responsive skin.

"My heart beats only for you, (Name)," he murmurs against your chest, his voice husky with emotion. "You are cherished, and I’m here to take care of you always."

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[thedensworld]

Chill Dad | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: Mingyu always wanted to be the chill and cool dad for his kids, however the world don't let him.

Mingyu remembered the exact moment he fell to his knees upon hearing the news—you were pregnant. After years of waiting, his dream of becoming a father was finally coming true. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter to him. But, as if fate had a plan, he was blessed with both—a beautiful baby girl and a baby boy. God had granted him twins. The day they were born, his heart nearly burst with pride. He named them Kim Kayi and Kim Kiha, and from that moment on, they became the center of his world.

Mingyu loved nothing more than showing off his babies. When the twins were just a month old, he threw a house party, eager to introduce them to everyone he knew. In his big arms, he proudly held Kayi and Kiha, beaming with pride as he introduced his friends and family to “the cutest babies in the world.” He wasn’t just saying that because they were his blood; they truly were the cutest—at least in his eyes. He adored every inch of them, from their tiny fingers to their chubby cheeks.

But, as the years passed, those adorable babies grew into spirited four-year-olds, and with that came the inevitable challenge: rebellion. Despite their cuteness, Kayi and Kiha had quickly learned how to test their father’s patience.

“I don’t want it!” Kayi’s small voice rang out defiantly one evening, her lips firmly pressed together as she refused to eat the vegetables on her plate.

Mingyu sighed, sitting across from her at the dining table, while you, seated on his left, were busy helping Kiha with his meal. Gently, he placed a carrot on Kayi’s fork and handed it to her again, hoping for cooperation. But with a little too much force, she pushed it back onto the plate.

“Kim Kayi…” His voice rose a few decibels, a warning in his tone.

You intervened softly, your voice a balm to his frustration. “Kayi, that’s okay. Just finish your meat, and then we can have your favorite fruit for dessert,” you said, standing to clean the small mess Kayi had made. Your other hand gently rubbed Mingyu’s back, calming him.

Another day, it was Kiha’s turn to test his father’s patience. “Kiha, we’re late, come here!” Mingyu called out, clothes in hand, as his son stubbornly refused to get dressed for an event. His small body was still glued to the floor, protesting.

“I don’t want to go…” Kiha mumbled.

“Mom and Kayi are waiting, everyone’s waiting,” Mingyu said with urgency, trying to reason with his son. “You shouldn’t be like this!”

When you walked into the room and saw the scene, Mingyu sighed in exasperation. “He refuses to wear anything,” he explained, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked gently, kneeling down to Kiha’s level and pulling him into a warm embrace. The two of you shared a quiet conversation that Mingyu couldn’t quite hear. Before long, you turned to him with a smile.

“Why don’t you and Kayi go ahead to the event? Kiha and I will stay home today,” you suggested softly, rubbing Kiha’s back as he clung to your neck.

Mingyu frowned. “Why?”

You smiled and gave Kiha a reassuring squeeze. “Kiha doesn’t want to go today. That’s okay, love. We’ll wait here for you.”

Though these moments tested Mingyu’s patience, he had a very healthy relationship with his kids. He adored them, and they adored him right back. Still, parenting during this rebellious phase often left him stressed, struggling to be the cool and chill dad he had once dreamed of being.

Later that evening, after the kids were finally asleep, Mingyu climbed into bed, visibly worn out. “You really need to stop spoiling the twins, love,” he said as he lay beside you.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “I don’t spoil them.”

Mingyu shook his head. “You let them get away with everything. That’s why they fight me on everything I ask them to do.”

You let out a soft laugh, recalling the five rounds of dance battles you’d just had with the kids before bedtime. “They’re just babies, love. They’re supposed to be spoiled.”

“They’re babies, yes, but there are still rules in this house,” he said, his tone exasperated. “I’m exhausted, and I swear they still had energy left even after I forced them to close their eyes. But eventually, they passed out.”

He sighed. “And earlier tonight, Kiha said he doesn’t want to go to daycare tomorrow. He wants to stay with you.”

You nodded. “Then I’ll take him to work with me.”

Mingyu gasped dramatically, yanking the duvet over himself. “See! This is exactly what I mean. You’re spoiling them too much! And don’t think I forgot about the ice cream yesterday—you got them ice cream without telling me!”

You giggled, guilt evident on your face. “I’m sorry… They were so cute; I couldn’t say no!”

You snuggled closer to him, kissing his neck softly. “You’re an amazing father, Love. You’re doing such a great job. Trust me.”

He turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I know…” He smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Is this your way of telling me you want another kid?” Mingyu teased as he hovered over you, kissing you again.l

You grinned up at him. “Maybe…”

*

The next morning began like any other—filled with the usual whirlwind of activity as Kayi and Kiha ran around the house, their laughter echoing through the halls. You were busy getting breakfast ready, while Mingyu tried to wrangle the twins into their clothes.

“Kayi, Kiha, come on! We’re going to be late,” Mingyu called out, his tone growing sharper as the twins continued to ignore him, engrossed in their game of chase.

You glanced over, noticing the tension in his shoulders. “I’ll handle Kiha,” you offered, but before you could move, Mingyu sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“No, I’ve got it,” he muttered, though the strain in his voice was clear.

The twins, oblivious to their father’s growing frustration, continued to run around, giggling as they eluded his grasp. Mingyu managed to catch Kayi, but Kiha slipped away, squealing with laughter.

“Kiha! Get over here, now!” Mingyu snapped, his patience fraying. When Kiha only giggled in response, Mingyu slammed his hand down on the counter. “I said, now!”

The sudden loud noise made Kiha freeze, his smile fading as he stared at Mingyu with wide eyes. Kayi, still in Mingyu’s arms, shrunk back, her playful energy draining away. You watched the shift in the atmosphere, your heart sinking.

“Babe…” you began softly, but he shook his head, setting Kayi down a little too abruptly.

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “Every day it’s a fight. I’m just trying to get them dressed, and they act like I’m the enemy!”

Kiha, still frozen in place, looked from you to Mingyu, his lower lip trembling. Kayi wrapped her arms around her father’s leg, her small voice barely audible. “Daddy… I’m sorry…”

But Mingyu didn’t hear her. He turned away, muttering something under his breath as he walked out of the room, leaving you and the kids standing there in stunned silence.

You knelt down, pulling Kiha into your arms as Kayi clung to your side. “It’s okay, babies,” you whispered, kissing their heads. “Daddy’s just upset right now. He doesn’t mean to scare you.”

They nodded, though you could see the hurt in their eyes. Your heart ached, torn between comforting your children and wanting to check on Mingyu. You knew he didn’t mean to lose his temper, but moments like this had been happening more often lately, and it was beginning to take a toll on all of you.

Later that day, Mingyu retreated to the bedroom, wrestling with his emotions. He felt a heavy weight in his chest, the guilt settling in as he replayed the morning in his head. He hadn’t meant to yell. He loved his kids more than anything, but sometimes the pressure of parenting, combined with his own fears of failure, made it hard to keep his composure.

It wasn’t until you walked into the room, your eyes soft with understanding, that Mingyu finally let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“They’re okay, Mingyu,” you said gently, sitting down beside him on the bed. “But they were a little scared. You know that, right?”

Mingyu rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a groan. “I messed up. I didn’t mean to yell, but I just… I don’t know. I’m trying so hard, and it feels like I’m failing. I just want them to listen to me.”

“They’re just kids,” you reminded him, your voice calm but firm. “They’re going to push boundaries—that’s what four-year-olds do. But you have to remember that you’re their dad. They look up to you. And when you lose your temper, it affects them more than you realize.”

Mingyu closed his eyes, the tension slowly melting away as your words sank in. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. “I’m sorry I yelled. I just… I feel like I’m failing.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You’re not failing, Mingyu. Parenting is hard, and we’re both learning. But you’re not in this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and self-doubt. “I need to apologize to them, don’t I?”

You nodded. “It’ll mean a lot to them.”

That evening, after dinner, Mingyu gathered the twins on the couch, pulling them close. Kayi and Kiha sat quietly, their big eyes watching him, sensing something serious was about to happen.

“Hey, guys,” Mingyu began, his voice softer than usual. “I want to talk to you for a minute.” He took a deep breath, glancing at you before turning back to the twins. “I’m sorry for yelling this morning. I was upset, but I shouldn’t have raised my voice. That wasn’t right, and I don’t want you to feel scared of me.”

Kayi crawled into his lap, wrapping her little arms around his neck. “It’s okay, Daddy,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest. “We love you.”

Kiha, still a bit hesitant, scooted closer and leaned his head against Mingyu’s arm. “We love you, Daddy,” he echoed quietly.

Mingyu’s heart clenched as he held them close, his eyes misting over. “I love you both so much,” he whispered, kissing the tops of their heads. “I’m going to try to be better, okay? We’ll work together.”

You watched from the doorway, your heart swelling at the sight of the three of them. Mingyu wasn’t perfect, but he was trying—and in the end, that’s what mattered most. Parenting wasn’t about being flawless; it was about showing up, even in the difficult moments, and finding your way back to love.

As the night settled in and the twins eventually drifted off to sleep, Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For always being here. For helping me through this.”

You smiled softly, resting your head against his chest. “We’re in this together, love. Always.”

And as you held each other in the quiet of the night, you knew that, no matter the challenges that lay ahead, you would face them side by side—just as you always had.

[nebularsung]

⭑ jeno and jisung are so obedient for you... ﹙+18﹚

the apartment was bathed in golden light from the setting sun, casting warm shadows over the furniture and painting the evening in soft tones.

it was pretty, cozy, warm… and silent.

you hadn’t even realized how quiet it had gotten until you turned from the kitchen and caught sight of jeno and jisung curled up on the couch together, both watching you like puppies too shy to ask for attention.

jeno sat back against the cushions, arms folded, brows slightly furrowed in that pouty way he got when he was craving affection but too proud to beg. meanwhile, jisung was half-sprawled across the other end, one knee drawn up, chewing lightly on his hoodie sleeve and sneaking glances at you, his cheeks faintly flushed.

they both looked so touch-starved it almost made you laugh. “what’s with the faces?” you asked, walking over with a smug smile. “you two look like i haven’t touched you in years.”

jisung let out a soft, whiny sound and opened his arms toward you like a child asking to be picked up. “you’ve been busy all day,” he mumbled, eyes wide. “i didn’t wanna bother you, but… i miss you.”

jeno scoffed, though his eyes softened. “he’s not wrong. you always say we can come to you, but then you make us wait like we’re being punished.”

“oh?” you raised a brow, climbing onto the couch and settling between them. “so what do you want then? my attention? my hands? my mouth…” your tone is suggestive, amused.

jeno swallowed thickly. “all of it.”

jisung was already crawling into your lap, hiding his face in your neck. “please…”

you ran your fingers through jisung’s soft hair and tugged jeno closer by the collar of his shirt. both of them leaned in immediately—eager, pliant, aching for touch. for your touch. jeno nuzzled at your shoulder, his breath catching when your hand slid along his thigh. jisung sighed contently when you cupped his cheek and whispered, “good boys.”

their shivers were immediate.

jeno kissed your collarbone, voice low and breathless. “please… let us make you feel good too. we’ll be good. just tell us what to do.”

and you planned to. slowly. thoroughly. letting them prove just how sweet and obedient they could be when all they wanted was to be wanted.

you tilt jisung’s chin up, brushing your thumb along his bottom lip, smiling when he parts them instinctively, eyes glassy and reverent.

“needy thing,” you whisper, and he nods before you even finish the sentence, cheeks pink, lips already trying to chase the pad of your thumb when it pulls away. “and you…” you glance over at jeno, who’s gripping the edge of the couch cushion like he needs something to hold onto. “you’ve been pouting all evening.”

“i wasn’t pouting,” he mumbles, but he leans in anyway, lips brushing your shoulder as if asking for forgiveness. “just… wanted you. missed your voice too.”

your fingers curl into jeno’s hair, tugging just enough to draw a quiet gasp from him. he melts into your touch instantly, kneeling on the couch so he can press closer—his breath stuttering when your other hand cups the back of jisung’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

it’s soft at first. just enough pressure to make him sigh. he tastes faintly of the candy he’d been snacking on earlier, lips cool and sweet and trembling against yours. when he whines, you let your tongue brush past his, just once, and he shudders with a soft sound that goes straight to your core.

“such a good boy, ji…” you murmur against his lips, and jisung groans like it physically affects him.

jeno watches hungrily, eyes dark, chest rising and falling fast. his hand finds your thigh, tentative, fingers squeezing like he’s grounding himself.

“don’t be shy now,” you purr, turning toward him. “come get your share.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice. jeno’s mouth crashes against yours, eager and desperate, like he’s been waiting hours just for this moment. he kisses you deeper—his tongue slipping past your lips, his hands clutching at your waist, pulling you closer like he wants to disappear into your skin.

jisung, flushed and dazed, buries his face into your neck again, lips trailing wet kisses across your skin, whispering breathy praises in between.

“you taste so good,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “you’re so warm. can’t get enough of you…”

with both boys pressed against you, hands trailing under your shirt, mouths worshiping every inch of you they can reach, it’s overwhelming in the most divine way. they're not demanding or rough—just worshipful, gentle, letting you set the pace as they melt under your praise.

two good boys, soft and obedient.

your fingers slip beneath jeno’s shirt, dragging upward over the taut line of his stomach. he shivers as you feel the way his muscles twitch beneath your palm—he’s tense, holding back, waiting for your permission like the obedient boy he is.

“take this off for me,” you murmur, and he follows instantly, sitting back just enough to strip the fabric over his head before returning to your side, panting lightly like the act itself had flustered him.

you glance at jisung, who’s still nuzzling into your neck, lips brushing the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. “you too, sungie.”

he nods, cheeks flushed, and hurriedly pulls his shirt over his head—almost fumbling with it in his eagerness. he looks so pretty like that: eyes wide and warm, collarbones on display, breath caught in his throat as he waits for you to touch him again.

“mmh, look at you,” you whisper, letting your hands glide down their bare chests. “so good for me already. just wanna be praised, don’t you?”

both boys nod—jeno swallowing thickly, jisung murmuring a soft “yes, please” like it’s a prayer.

your hand trails lower, fingertips ghosting over jeno’s waistband as he bucks slightly into your touch. you smirk.

“so sensitive already?” you tease.

“i—i can’t help it,” jeno breathes. “you haven’t even really touched me yet and i’m already—”

you hush him with a kiss, slow and deep, while your hand cups him through his jeans—feeling how hard he is, how desperate he’s getting. his hips twitch, needy, but he doesn’t move more than that. he’s waiting for your permission.

meanwhile, jisung is practically vibrating beside you, watching intently as you work jeno up. you don’t forget about him—your other hand reaches for him, pressing flat against his lower stomach, slowly trailing downward until he gasps at the pressure of your palm over his aching cock.

“g-good girl,” jisung whispers without thinking, so drunk on the moment that he forgets himself.

you still for a beat, tilting your head to look at him with a slow smile. “oh?” you hum, pinning him gently under your stare. “is that what you think i am?”

he goes red to the tips of his ears. “n-no, i mean—i just—i didn’t mean—”

“you meant it,” jeno cuts in, amused and breathless. “she’s our girl. but she’s the one in charge.”

you grin, proud. “exactly.”

and then you press your palm firmer over both of them at once—two hard, desperate lengths twitching under your touch. their moans mix together in perfect harmony, and it’s nothing short of beautiful.

“lay back,” you instruct, voice velvet-smooth, coaxing them both to stretch out across the carpet. “i want to see everything.”

they do exactly as you say, side by side, pupils blown, bodies already trembling with anticipation.

your boys. eager, beautiful, and all yours.

and you’re going to make sure they know it—every inch of their bodies worshiped and wrecked by your hands, your voice, your love.

their bodies stretch across the carpet—bare skin glowing in the golden light, eyes on you like you're something holy.

jeno rests on his back, his chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. jisung lies beside him, turned just slightly toward you, lips parted, his eyes flicking between your face and your hands like he’s starving for your touch.

you take your time crawling between them, fingers trailing along their thighs, gentle but firm. “you two look so pretty like this,” you whisper, and they both shiver under your praise. “so obedient. so needy.”

“only for you,” jisung says breathlessly, reaching for your wrist before catching himself—and waiting, like a good boy, for permission.

you smile and guide his hand up to your waist. “that’s right,” you murmur. “only for me.”

then your hands move lower, undoing jeno’s jeans first—slow, teasing—watching the way he squirms when your knuckles brush the line of his boxers. you free him from the fabric and his cock springs up, flushed and aching. he groans, head tipping back into the pillows, hands still clenched because you haven’t told him he can touch you yet.

you turn to jisung next, giving him the same slow treatment, savoring the way he whimpers when you finally wrap your fingers around him. he’s already leaking, so sensitive you barely need to stroke him for his hips to jerk up.

“please…” he whispers, voice cracking. “i wanna touch you so bad.”

you lean down, lips brushing his ear. “you’ll get to, babe” you promise. “after i’m done playing with you.”

you stroke them both together—one hand wrapped around each cock, watching how their bodies respond in perfect contrast. jeno bites his lip, barely making a sound, but his thighs tremble under your grip. jisung is vocal, soft moans spilling from his mouth, little whimpers and desperate gasps.

they’re beautiful like this—spread out for you, desperate for you.

“such good boys,” you praise, letting go just before they can get too close. “you’re going to make me feel so good tonight, aren’t you?”

they both nod frantically.

“yes,” jeno groans. “anything you want.”

“everything you want,” jisung adds.

you guide them gently, firmly, crawling forward to straddle jeno’s lap. he gasps when your damp panties touch his throbbing cock. fists clenched, like he’d unravel the moment he touched you.

jisung watches from the side, completely transfixed, one hand stroking himself slow and desperate as you hump jeno. you reach for him too, keeping him close, letting him feel your skin, guiding his hand between your legs to touch you through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

jeno lets out a trembling breath, chest rising as he struggles to keep still beneath you. his eyes are glazed, jaw tight, every muscle in his body wound up like a spring—like he’s holding himself back just for you. you tilt your hips slowly against him, dragging your damp heat along the thick, wet length, teasing both of you with just enough friction to make it unbearable.

“doing so well for me, baby,” you whisper, stroking his cheek with gentle fingers. he leans into your touch immediately, like he’s starved for it, eyes fluttering shut as if your praise alone could undo him.

jisung watches helplessly, lip caught between his teeth, hand now moving faster over himself as you beckon him closer with a crook of your finger. he shuffles forward on his knees, eager, his breath ragged as you take his wrist and bring his fingers right where you need them. the heat of his skin through the soaked fabric makes you moan softly, your body twitching with need.

“touch me like that,” you say, gaze flicking between both of them, “and don’t stop until i say so.”

jeno’s grip tightens on your hips, but he doesn’t move. he’s trembling, needy, letting you grind against him slowly, his restraint deliciously obvious.

jisung, on the other hand, is falling apart just from getting to feel you—his eyes are wide, filled with awe and hunger as he focuses completely on the way your body reacts under his fingers. “you feel so…” he tries to say, but his voice breaks off into a whine.

“say it,” you coax, leaning down between them, lips brushing jeno’s jaw before shifting to hover near jisung’s ear. “tell me what i do to you.”

“you make me crazy,” he whispers, breath hitching as he strokes you more confidently now. “i can’t think when i touch you…”

you smile, slow and wicked, before rolling your hips again—drawing gasps from both of them. your boys, eager and obedient, desperate to please.

｜ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌 𖹭 found the taglist doc again cheers! so im tagging y'all again finally (sorry guys) if you wanna be removed just tell me!

★ @lyvhie @spacejip @zhapire @onriyuview @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @jungaji @sinisxtea @jirsungs @polarisjisung @chenlezip @ayukas @leleszn @mystverse @hibernatinghamster @kj-kts @nctrawberries @peterm4rker @ant-onie @lovesuhng @haechanahceah67 @jeonghansshitester @hyusun @ncthoe69 @dawntyun @snowyseungs @n0hyuck @nahyuckers

[saturlvrs]

Sweet As A Peach

Description: Bo watched hungrily as his wife devoured a popsicle, savoring the taste. She’d lick clean the melting sweetness from her fingers. Bo wanted to be that popsicle.

Tags: Summer time, smut central, sweat, teasing, popsicle use, fingering, and riding.

Bo Chow x OC!!!!

(1.5k words)

The air was thick and humid throughout the house. Nothing was helping Venus cool down. She was damn near naked. Stripped down to her bra and underwear, and lay under the fan. In a heat-induced haze, she watched the fan spin. She’d already showered, but was already starting to sweat again.

With a tired grunt, she pulled herself up from the floor, making her way to the kitchen just a few steps away. Her first thought was the freezer, its chilly breath inviting her as she swung the door open. The blast of ice-cold air felt invigorating against her warm skin, a welcome contrast to the humid afternoon. She entertained the idea of climbing inside the freezer for a moment of pure coolness, but decided against it—maybe another time. Instead, she reached for a popsicle, a sweet treat that promised to cool her down.

As she made her way back to the living room, she chose to settle onto the couch instead of the hard floor. Unwrapping the popsicle, she realized it was her favorite flavor. There was simply no comparison; cherry couldn't hold a candle to the juicy taste of peach. But as quickly as she unwrapped it, it began to melt, a bright orange drip rolling dangerously close to her fingers.

Venus turned her attention to the creak of the floorboards. Bo slowly made his way over to the kitchen. Freshly showered, now dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. He mirrored Venus, going to the freezer for something to cool him down as well.

Venus held in her laugh when a groan came from the kitchen. She indeed did take the last popsicle. “Venus!”

Venus bit the inside of her cheek to conceal a laugh. “We can share,” she reasoned as Bo sat beside her. “Share? The damn thing is almost melted” he shook his head at her.

He was right, but at least she offered. “You lucky I offered, I should eat the rest in your face,” She teased.

Bo rolled his eyes, moving to the opposite side of the couch, lying down to enjoy the air from the fan. Bo’s eyes drifted over to his wife. A quiet suckling sound came from her side of the couch. He internally sighed, knowing what she was doing. And he loved it.

“Wanna share?” Venus asked, biting the remaining bit of flavored ice. Bo nodded, watching his wife crawl onto his lap. Her legs now wrapped around his waist hitting the side of it.

With the flavored ice between her teeth, she pulled Bo closer in for a kiss. The sugary liquid dripped down the side of his mouth as their lips moved together. Venus broke the kiss to lick the excess liquid. Her cold tongue caused a cooling sensation as she continued licking all around his chin. Bo sneakily unhooked her bra, watching as her breasts fell out of the cups of the bra.

Bo raised a hand to feel on her areolas, now growing hard due to the temperature change. They were beautiful. Bo ran a hand over them, taking one in his mouth. His tongue lapped all around the nipple, sucking it while teasing the other. Venus shakily said, “Be gentle, they're sensitive.”

The atmosphere in the room changed from hot to blistering. Soft moans were heard from Venus as she held a fist of Bo’s hair. Gentle kisses and suckles were felt all along Venus’s chest. Bo was incredibly turned on, not once looking away from the sight in front of him.

His soft but calloused hand moved a strand of hair away from her face. “You call that sharing?” He teased, looking up at her.

“I gave you some, didn’t I?” Venus replied, throwing the wooden stick into the wrapper.

“I mean…” Bo trailed off, smiling, “Technically, I got a cap full of it.” Venus attempts to lift herself off his lap, “I’m not sharing anything with you,” his arm pulls her right back down. She fake pouts.

“I think something else will suffice.” His thumb rubbed circles along her hips. “What you think?” His eyes trailed down to Venus’s underwear. His hand began to reach down to the elastic, stretching it from her skin, pulling it aside. A spot of wetness decorated the front.

His index and middle finger circle over her opening, coated in her glistening liquid. Venus breathed in, and she felt his fingers enter her. Bo knew what he was doing, he knew what made his wife feel good. Bo sat up straight so he could reach a better angle. When in position, he began to thrust his fingers into her. His fingers were engulfed in a warm envelope that squeezed against him tightly.

“Bo..” Venus cried into her hand at the sensation. Bo moved her hand, causing a bunch of whimpers from Venus’s mouth. “I wanna hear you,” he said as he continued a steady pace into her.

Bo's fingers began to curl into her, causing Venus to try to push away. Her legs tried to close, hindering Bo’s attempt at continuing. “Baby,” he used his other hand to open her legs. “Come on,” his voice needy, wanting more.

Venus finally gave in, opening her legs. Bo immediately thrust his fingers back into her heat. Her mouth went slack as her head lay on his shoulder. Bo smirked as he continued.

His thumb circled her clit, flicking her bud. The sensitive bud was hidden behind her puffy folds. Venus moaned into his shoulder, biting into it. Bo kissed her neck, kissing the strained vein.

After a few minutes of pulsing, Bo found her bundle of nerves. His middle finger grazed it, causing a yelp from his wife. “Bo…” she whined, clutching hard onto his shirt. “Bo… I need more”. A hum was heard from Bo as he worked his way into her pussy. Beads of sweat began forming on his forehead as he continued.

Venus felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head in pleasure. Her hand slid up to grab onto his hair, tugging lightly on it. She’d expect his hand to be cramped up at this point, but nothing could stop him. She felt Bo’s cock underneath her fighting to get out.

Finally, the feeling of an orgasm fell upon Venus. Her breath quickened as she tried pushing Bo’s hand away. “Bo, please,” she pleaded for him to slow down. Ignoring her pleading, his fingers curled inside her.

Venus’s teeth bit harder into his shoulder as she came with a choked-out groan, her body felt limp in Bo’s chest. Bo watched as his wife’s chest was moving rapidly up and down, trying to catch her breath.

“You did good,” He kissed the side of her face, feeling as her body trembled in his arms. He slowly pulled his fingers out, and Venus breathlessly pulled away from his shoulder. Bo shamelessly tasted his fingers, not a droplet going to waste. “Sweet,” he simply described the taste.

Venus chuckled, leaning back onto his chest. “I’m not done, Bo.” Properly pulling down his pants, a hard outline was seen from behind his underwear. She pulls them completely down, getting a look at his cock. Venus scoots down a bit so she can comfortably go down. She spent only a few minutes getting him wet before finishing with a pop.

Bo helps her with lining it to her opening. Lowering down felt like hell, that hell soon turned into pleasure as her heat completely swallowed his cock. Bo lets out a stream of groans as she begins to move. With the help of her thighs, Venus moves in a constant rhythm.

Bo held tightly onto her hips, possibly leaving a mark. Watching as she continued moving along his length. He then began to move, thrusting into her, causing her to stop, letting out a breathy moan. “Fuck” she cried out.

Grabbing onto her waist, Bo picks her up, flips them so he’s now on top. His thrusts are animalistic and hard as ever. Venus clutches onto his back as he continues to push into her. Her nails scratched down his back as he continued his thrusts. He slows down feeling onto her stomach watching as the indent of his cock makes its presence. “Venus,” Bo’s hoarse voice calls out.

Hungrily, Venus crashes their lips together. Pressing their heads together, sharing the beads of sweat now falling down their faces. Venus bites down on his lip, causing him to bite back. Their tongues twirl against each other, fighting for dominance, and Bo wins as always.

Venus mutters out her remaining explicits before finally cumming under her husband. His thrusts slow down before he carefully pulls out to finish into his hands. No babies will be happening anytime soon. Bo takes a moment to notice how beautiful his wife looks right now. Though she hates being hot and sticky, here she is with him.

Bo sat beside her. “You okay?” his words coming out slurred. Venus hummed softly, “Yeah, it feels like my insides have been ripped apart.” She painfully nodded, “Give me a minute.”

[sugarwarachan]

Hi hi!! So tomorrow is my birthday, and I REALLY liked your Izuku x reader, I was wondering if maybe I could get an Izu x reader bday fic? If not- totally cool! Figured I’d ask <3

first of all, happy birthday!! i hope it's lovely and that this short little fic adds some joy to your day! <3

pairing: izuku x reader (all characters 18+)

cws: fluff, nfsw, smut, suggestive, afab!reader, fingering, izuku being teeth-rottingly sweet

Izuku is physically incapable of being calm about your birthday. It’s the first birthday you’ve celebrated together as a couple, so he wants to have everything go right.

Which means he might go a little overboard on birthday prep.

He sends you flowers every day the week before, each one bearing a card counting down the date. T minus 3 days until my baby’s birthday! Your friends tease you mercilessly, but you actually find it sweet. It’s so Izuku, so cute and anticipatory.

He consults everyone you’ve ever known to determine what presents are suitable for you. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was Izuku you were talking about (and that he played Bakugou’s voice memo OUT LOUD), you’d be a little suspicious at how often his phone is lighting up.

When the day of your birthday arrives, you nearly expect him to have a balloon arch over your bedroom doorway. But no, it’s just Izuku in the kitchen making coffee, sweats hanging low on his hips and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He’s needed them more as he’s gotten older, and you think they’re the sexiest thing he can wear.

"Hey, handsome." You hug him from behind.

He cranes his neck to peer down at you, smiling widely. "Morning, birthday girl. Made you your favorite coffee." His hand spans behind him to drag you in front of his body, cradling you between the countertop and his chest. He presses a mug into your hands and kisses your cheek. "How do you wanna start your day?"

You lean into him, a sharp little thrum of arousal slicing through your stomach when your ass brushes against his groin. He’s not hard yet but he’s always sizable, and the idea that he could shuck your pajama bottoms off and bend you over the counter suddenly has your head spinning.

"Whatcha thinking about there?"

There’s such an obviously pleased smile on his face that you can’t help but roll your eyes.

"You know what I’m thinking about."

His hand tightens on your hip. "Put the coffee down, honey."

It’s amazing how quickly you spark desire in the other, how one subtle shift of your hips will make Izuku grind his hardening cock against the meat of your ass.

"You don’t have a schedule we need to adhere to?"

He laughs. "That’s for later. I want you all to myself this morning."

You’re already sensitive and swollen from how good he fucked you last night. His fingers gently caress your folds, thumb rubbing over the hood of your clit. You groan, need already climbing in your lower belly.

"Let’s use just a little bit of lube, huh, baby? Help make sure it’s good for you? I did get a little rough with you last night." He kisses a path in between your shoulder blades. "I’ll try and warm it up a little in my hands, I know you hate how cold it is."

Your hands grip the counter to steady yourself. "Izu, you’ve got to stop being the sweetest fucking guy I’ve ever dated."

"Why’s that?” His fingers pry you apart again, nudging your entrance. He swirls the pad of his thumb over your clit while his fingers gently suck into you, eased in by the lube. it helps the gentle ache left behind from yesterday. "That would ruin my plans of eventually convincing you to marry me."

A little pulse flutters in your stomach.

"Oh. Do you like that, baby? That I wanna marry you one day?”

Your head drops when two of his fingers slide inside of you.

"Of course I like it," you gasp. "The hottest pro hero in Japan wants to marry me?"

"Pretty sure that title belongs to Todoroki—"

"Could we please not talk about Shouto right now?"

"Right, right. Sorry, baby.” He takes his fingers out of your pussy and licks your slick away with the flat of his tongue, smiling when he sees the look on your face. "That’s my title in your eyes, right? That’s all I care about.”

You blush so furiously it makes your ears burn. It still takes you aback how sweet Izuku can be.

"We’ve got hours, birthday girl. Let's go put them to good use."

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works. masterlist here. cute divider by @bronzewasp

[the-most-humble-blog]

<!-- BEGIN TRANSMISSION // BLACKSITE LITERATURE PROTOCOL ACTIVE --> <div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta honor-integrity="corrupted-lineage"> <script>ARCHIVE_TAG="REY_PALPATINE::THE_MONSTER_SHE_BECAME" EFFECT: narrative vengeance, myth injection, algorithmic destabilization of brand control </script>

🧠 STAR WARS HOT TAKE — THE MONSTER SHE BECAME A Blacksite Literature™ Transmission (Because sometimes the chosen one burns the temple down.)

—

You want to know what would've saved Star Wars?

Rey turning into a Sith. No redemption. No apology. No narrative backflip to avoid bruising her image. Just evil. Cold. Inevitable. Tragic.

She didn’t get there because she was weak — she got there because the darkness made more sense.

Let me put it in the bluntest terms I can: She should’ve become the fucking monster. Not Kylo. Not some grey-area anti-hero. Not a conflicted girl with a lightsaber fetish. A monster. Just like her grandpapi.

But no. Instead, we got the most sterilized, agenda-drenched narrative in sci-fi history. A trilogy so frightened of letting a woman be flawed, powerful, and damned that it neutered its own potential. You want to know why that upcoming Rey trilogy will be DOA? Because they already wasted the only ending that could’ve saved her arc:

Her fall.

Not a stumble. Not a moment of “oops, dark side temptations.” I mean a complete possession. A willing descent. A new Empress. Palpatine 2.0 — but better.

—

Back in the day, we told stories to scar the soul in a good way. Greek tragedy. Shakespearean collapse. Anakin’s scream. > “I HATE YOU!” Burning, legless, crying in the ash of everything he once was. That wasn’t just cinema. That was myth.

And you know what made it powerful? It wasn’t safe.

Now? Disney thinks danger is offensive. That tragedy is too problematic. That every female protagonist must somehow double as a PR mascot for a toothpaste commercial.

The Force is female? Cool. Then let her fall. Let her fail. Let her choose evil, like any other real character might when backed into a moral corner and seduced by the very blood running through her veins.

But no. Rey had to stay pure. She had to redeem him. Because her ovaries wrote the script, apparently.

Let me ask you: If the dark side can’t take anyone… Then what is it? A glorified emo phase?

Seriously. If you have to already be broody, edgy, or half-insane to fall to the dark side, then the dark side is neutered. Defanged. Just an aesthetic.

But what if it wasn’t? What if the dark side could seduce anyone? Even the girl who smiled. Who loved. Who gave a damn. What if it made sense for her? What if it gave her power that felt natural — like breathing?

—

Here’s the thing they never dared write:

Rey has every reason to fall.

She’s a nobody. Her parents abandoned her. She was manipulated, hunted, deceived, isolated. Her identity stolen, retconned, and twisted — first by lineage, then by narrative.

And when she finally learns she’s a Palpatine?

They should’ve made it hurt.

Not a five-minute lightsaber therapy session followed by “I choose the light, teehee.”

No.

Let it destroy her.

Let the name Palpatine sink in like venom. Let it pull her apart. And then?

Let her put herself back together — not as Rey the Jedi… …but as Rey the Sith.

Let her accept it. Let her say, out loud, “I am what I am.” Let her choose it.

> “You wanted balance? I’ll give you symmetry. > You got your Skywalker that fell to darkness — now you’ll get a Palpatine that never climbs out.”

Imagine the scene: Finn, standing across from her. Lightsaber drawn. She’s wearing black. Her eyes like twin eclipses. No hate. Just serenity. The kind of calm that only a godless tyrant can possess.

And he begs her: > “Come back.”

But she laughs. Like it’s a joke. Because to her, there’s no coming back from truth.

> “You still don’t get it, do you?” > “There was nothing to come back to.”

And that’s when he realizes: She’s gone. Not possessed. Not confused. Gone.

She isn’t drowning in the dark.

She’s breathing in it.

—

You want to know what would’ve shaken Hollywood? A love story inverted into a execution.

Finn trains. Finn ascends. Finn becomes Jedi not because of fate, prophecy, or birthright — But because he has to kill the woman he loves. Because she became something worse than even Palpatine dreamed of.

And when the moment comes — She screams in rage as he drives his saber through her heart. Not in fear. Not in regret.

> In hatred. > Like Anakin. > “I HATE YOU!” > “I WOULD’VE KILLED THE GALAXY FOR YOU AND YOU CHOSE THEM.”

Her last words are not a redemption arc. They’re a final, unrepentant, curse.

And Finn? Finn whispers: > “I loved you anyway.”

That’s cinema. That’s fucking Star Wars.

—

But no. We got a PowerPoint deck on empowerment. We got “I’m all the Jedi” and hugs and Skywalker cosplay. We got the girlboss ending that no one asked for — And everyone forgot the monster she was born to be.

Disney was so afraid of letting a woman be evil that they stripped her of being interesting.

Newsflash: Flawed female characters are compelling. Villainous women are iconic. Tragedy is beautiful.

> You want to put butts in seats for that next Rey trilogy? > Have the balls to make her the villain.

Start the first scene with the galaxy on fire. The Jedi temples smoldering. Children missing. Acolytes chanting her name.

Not Empress Rey. Not Supreme Leader Rey.

No. Just Rey. One name. One legend. A goddess of wrath forged from legacy and betrayal. The shadow that even Palpatine never cast.

—

And Finn? He’s the myth now. The one who loved a monster and still raised a generation of incorruptible Jedi. Not because he was chosen. But because he had to end her.

Because she never came back.

Because she didn’t want to.

---

🔁 Reblog if you're tired of fake stakes in storytelling 🩸 Follow for mythic alt-timelines and weaponized narrative 🎥 Tag someone who thinks Star Wars is too “sacred” to critique 💀 Patreon for uncensored doctrine & biological weaponry scrolltraps

</div> <!-- END TRANSMISSION [TRACE REMNANT IMPRINT IN: 06:06:06] -->

[pinkmoontaco]

Hug in the Limelight || Xu Minghao

Pairing: Idol Minghao X Idol Y/n Genre: Romance, Fluff, Idol romance Summary: When Y/n’s group wins their first trophy, she breaks down in tears—only for Minghao to hug her on live TV, shocking everyone. Authors Note: Hey everyone, 😊!! I'm back with a short story that was requested by one of you! First off, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support you’ve shown for Fated to Love You. The incredible response honestly feels like a dream, and I’m beyond grateful for each and every one of you💕 Your sweet comments, reblogs, and kind words truly inspire me to keep writing, so please keep them coming!! Love you guys ❤️ And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other group

M.list

The music was deafening, the lights blinding, and the cheers of the crowd an intoxicating high. But even in the midst of all that, her eyes always found his.

Y/N was used to the chaos of the industry. The long nights, the endless rehearsals, the weight of expectations pressing against her shoulders. She had debuted five years ago, climbing the ranks of the industry, her group steadily growing into one of the top names in K-pop. She had learned to balance fame with sanity, but nothing quite prepared her for meeting Xu Minghao.

They met during a special year-end collaboration stage. Her group and SEVENTEEN had been paired together for a mixed performance, a fusion of styles meant to showcase their versatility. Minghao, with his effortless grace and piercing gaze, had immediately caught her attention. But she wasn’t the type to easily show interest. She kept things professional, exchanging polite greetings and focusing on rehearsals.

Minghao, however, was different. He wasn’t loud or overbearing like some of the other idols she had worked with. He moved through the world with an air of calmness, always observing, always calculating. And yet, there was a warmth to him—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Their first real conversation happened backstage after a long rehearsal. Y/N had been stretching when he approached, a bottle of water in hand. “You should take a break,” he said, offering it to her.

She raised an eyebrow but accepted it. “You sound like my leader.”

He chuckled, settling down beside her. “I just know how exhausting this industry can be.”

For some reason, she found herself opening up. “Sometimes, I forget what it’s like to rest. It’s always go, go, go.”

Minghao hummed in understanding. “Then you should find small moments for yourself. Even in the chaos.”

She thought about that conversation for weeks after. It wasn’t just his words, but the way he said them—like he truly understood. From then on, stolen moments became their thing. Between rehearsals, at award shows, in the quiet hallways of music broadcasts. A glance, a fleeting smile, a whispered joke. They were never reckless, never obvious, but they found each other in the places where the cameras didn’t reach.

One night, after another successful performance, they found themselves alone on the rooftop of the venue. The city stretched out before them, lights flickering like stars. Y/N pulled her jacket tighter around herself as the cool air bit at her skin.

Minghao leaned against the railing beside her. “You were amazing tonight.”

She smiled. “So were you.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he turned to face her fully. “Y/N… do you ever wonder if there’s a version of us that doesn’t have to hide?”

Her heart clenched at the question. She had thought about it more times than she could count. “All the time,” she admitted. “But we both know the reality.”

He nodded, looking up at the sky. “Then we’ll just have to make the most of what we have.”

She reached for his hand, fingers lacing together. It was dangerous. Reckless, even. But in that moment, she didn’t care. Because despite everything—the cameras, the contracts, the expectations—they had this. Their stolen moments. And for now, that was enough.

But then, everything changed.

A week later, a blurry photo of them holding hands surfaced online. It spread like wildfire, speculations running rampant. Their agencies moved quickly, arranging emergency meetings and discussing possible responses. They had two choices—deny or come clean.

Minghao was the first to make a decision. “Let’s be honest,” he said, looking at Y/N with certainty in his eyes. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Her heart pounded as she nodded. “Me neither.”

The next day, they posted matching statements on social media. “Yes, we are together. We’ve found comfort and happiness in each other, and we hope you can support us.”

The reactions were mixed—some fans cheered, others felt betrayed. But through it all, Minghao stayed by her side, holding her hand just as tightly as he had that night on the rooftop.

And this time, they weren’t just stolen moments. They were theirs to keep.

The stage of Music Bank was deafening. Cheers, screams, and a wave of emotions crashed through the air as Y/n’s group was announced as the winner.

For a moment, she just stood there. Did she hear that right?

Her leader’s hands flew to her mouth, another member collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Their dream—the thing they had fought for, cried for, bled for—was finally in their grasp.

Y/n tried to hold herself together, tried to keep her emotions at bay, but the moment she locked eyes with the fans in the audience, the ones who had waited years for this just as much as they had—the tears fell.

She covered her face with her hands, her body trembling as reality sank in. Her members wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, crying, shaking, overwhelmed.

And then, through her blurred vision, she saw him.

Xu Minghao.

Standing on the other side of the stage, his gaze locked onto hers. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to find words, but the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides told her everything.

In that moment, he didn’t care about the cameras. He didn’t care about the industry’s rules.

He moved.

The entire stage seemed to freeze as Minghao crossed the boundary between them.

The MCs' voices stuttered. The other idols gasped. The audience erupted.

Before Y/n could even process it, she was in his arms.

A collective gasp filled the studio.

She didn’t hesitate—her arms wrapped around his torso as she buried her face into his shoulder, shaking from both the weight of the moment and the warmth he provided.

Minghao held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other securing her against him as if shielding her from the entire world. He didn’t care about the rules. He didn’t care about the headlines.

She had won, and he needed her to know he was there.

The MCs didn’t know what to say. The idols behind them exchanged stunned glances, some covering their mouths, others clutching their chests in shock. The broadcast camera zoomed in, capturing every moment—a moment that would become legendary.

Y/n trembled in his arms, gripping his jacket so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I—I can’t believe it…” she choked out between sobs.

Minghao exhaled shakily, his own eyes glassy. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands gently wiping the tears off her cheeks. “Believe it. You deserve this.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill.

The murmurs of the other idols grew louder, whispers of “Oh my God,” “This is insane,” and “They really don’t care anymore” filling the air.

Finally, one of the MCs stammered into the mic, “W-Well… I think we just witnessed something… historic.”

The audience was already exploding, social media in flames with headlines flooding in real-time.

"SEVENTEEN'S MINGHAO DEFIES INDUSTRY RULES—PUBLICLY EMBRACES Y/N DURING FIRST WIN!"

"MINGHAO AND Y/N: LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT"

"IDOLS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SHOW THIS MUCH EMOTION—BUT MINGHAO JUST DID."

But at that moment, neither of them cared.

Minghao cupped her cheeks, his thumbs tracing gentle circles as he whispered, "Let them say what they want. This moment is yours.”

Y/n sniffled, nodding, and for the first time that night, a smile broke through her tears.

With their hands still intertwined, standing under the brightest lights in the industry, they had never felt freer.

[screamlet]

tommy playing with buck's hair if it sparks joy pls 🙏

well......... i hope this sparks joy for someone. thank you for the prompt! don't ask how playing with buck's hair got us here. established bucktommy, 1.5k, future fic (1 year from now), mention of mcd, discussions about grieving, angst city. kind of inspired by my drabble about buck and his lightning strike anniversary. from the nonsexual acts of intimacy prompt list ---

As thunder rumbles in the distance, Tommy glares out the kitchen window. That's not cool.

Evan hears it, too, and looks up and around like it's coming for him. He can't blame him for thinking that, not in the slightest.

"See what I mean?" Evan asks. "Weather was fine yesterday, weather will be fine tomorrow, but tonight it has to rain, there has to be a storm."

Tommy leaves the vegetables he's chopping and pulls Evan into his arms, kisses his hair. "It'll be okay. We've got a plan."

There's a flash outside the window and then the lights go out.

"Fuck," Tommy mutters, holding Evan closer.

They had taken today and tomorrow off for the anniversary of Evan being struck by lightning/literally dying for 3 minutes and 17 seconds before slipping into a days-long coma that almost killed him (again). The plan had been to spend the day working on a really elaborate several-course dinner, enjoying all that work, and then watching the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy (extended edition) until Evan fell asleep.

Now there was a storm overhead and that plan was fucked. It was raining hard, huge sheets of rain beating steadily against Tommy's house. Evan had kept it together until Tommy rested a hand on the nape of his neck; that got him to give up the ghost and walk into his arms, letting himself be held.

"You don't have one of those big generators that powers an entire house, do you?" Evan asks.

"No, I'm not that much of a doomsday prepper, though maybe I should be."

Evan rubs his cheek against Tommy's chest. "Maybe you should be."

Tommy didn't have a generator, but he did have a huge camping lantern that lit up the living room in an admittedly spooky blue-toned light. Something else to look into: less creepy lightbulbs for his emergency lantern.

"At least we have charcuterie," Evan mumbles, his crackers and cheese and meats untouched on his plate. "And cheesecake."

"That's a pretty decadent meal," Tommy replies. "Nothing says hell yeah I'm alive like charcuterie and cheesecake."

Evan nods as he reclines against Tommy's chest. "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you…"

"What it was like to die." Evan looks up. "Have you ever died?"

"Haven't had the pleasure," Tommy says. "Do you want to tell me?" Tommy kisses the top of his head, then rests his hand in Evan's hair. "Do you remember what happened?"

Evan wraps his arms around Tommy's waist. He relaxes a little as Tommy touches his curls, relaxes even more as Tommy runs his nails along his scalp. He can feel Evan relaxing bit-by-bit with every stroke of Tommy's fingers through his hair, the gentle touch along his shaved sides. His fingers trace not his ear, but behind his ear, the curve of his neck, his jaw, a long road trip that tickles at the edge of his jaw. Evan loves to be kissed there, but Tommy running his thumb along that spot, the bolt of his jaw, gets him to laugh and squirm. Tommy remembers that as his hand goes back into Evan's hair and starts again: nails along his scalp, gentle tugs on his curls to show Evan that he's here, not alone.

"I remember too much," Evan says slowly. "I remember climbing in the rain, how hard it was raining. I remember this stillness, this pocket in the middle of all that rain. I remember this weird sound, like—tension, electric, all at once. I think I knew it was going to happen before it happened."

"And then…"

"And then everything went white. I felt the shock and it hurt, it hurt, and then… then it was over. Like shutting off the lights."

Tommy rests his hand on Evan's head and kisses the top again, rests his cheek there. His heart hurts. It aches to hear the story, but it aches more at Evan's voice, the fear still in it. It's been two, three years? It sounds like the memory's burned in there.

"I had a dream and Bobby was in it, but he was dead."

Tommy stops. Soon it'll be a year since Bobby died; he didn't know Evan had already dreamed it, or something like it.

"Did you know Bobby was an alcoholic? Other stuff, too? Before he came to LA."

"I knew he was sober," Tommy says. "I didn't ask about the rest."

Evan nods. "Hen and I, he relapsed when I was a probie, and we got him help. We helped him. He was in my dream, though, kind of my guide I guess. He was—if I didn't—if I hadn't been at the 118, he would have died, is how my dream went. He needed me like I needed him."

Tommy's hand opens, making the same trip along the side of Evan's hair, down his jaw and neck, his hand resting on Evan's chest. Evan takes his hand and clutches it to himself as he leans more against Tommy.

"I don't know what to do with that," Evan says quietly. "I know it's just a dream, it's just in my head, it never happened—I never told Bobby about this, not ever. But I guess I think it's true. He wouldn't have lived if he didn't have me to be a menace, to look after, to guide, and now—now I don't have him. I don't know what I'm supposed to do today now that he's not here."

"What did you used to do? When he was here. You told me you went over to Maddie and Howie's, but what about last year when—"

When I wasn't here.

"We had found Maddie after she was kidnapped," Evan says. "And I had just moved all my stuff into my new place, and then—then I saw you again."

Tommy clutches Evan's chest a little. "That all happened around the same time? Maddie's kidnapping, your anniversary, you and me hooking up?" Evan nods against him. "Shit. Maybe next year we just skip the month of March."

Evan laughs and lets go of Tommy's hand, so Tommy rests it in his hair again. "It's tough. But I went to Maddie's anyway, crashed in the spare room. They needed the help with Jee while Maddie was recovering, so I—I had different things to be sick about."

Tommy wraps him up and kisses his birthmark. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you last year, not the way you needed it."

"It's okay," Evan says softly. "We made it back to each other."

"We did." Tommy kisses him again. "How are you feeling? What else do you want to get off your chest?"

Evan's quiet again, this time for a while, before he curls up against Tommy's chest again. "I went to church a couple of times after Bobby died. To his church. Went to Mass by myself, just me."

Tommy nods. "How'd it make you feel? Is that something you want to do again?"

"It was quiet and cold, I don't know why they blast the air conditioner like that," Evan says. "I remembered in my coma dream Bobby had his rosary and was praying for me and I wondered if that would help me. I don't know the prayers but I know there's 10 in each set, so I counted off on my knuckles. 10 things I miss about Bobby. 10 things I wish I'd said to Bobby. 10 things I wish he'd told me. 10 things I wish we could still do together. 10 things I wish he'd do for me."

Tommy doesn't realize he's crying until a tear drips onto the hand in Evan's hair. He rubs his cheeks dry and rests his hand in Evan's hair again. "Did you have answers for all of those?"

"Not all of them, but I stayed for a long time counting them off." Evan sounds congested, so he sniffles hard. "You know, this is the least miserable today's ever been. Seriously."

"Because you're not watching The Lord of the Rings tonight?"

Evan laughs. He sits up, but keeps himself pressed to Tommy's side. "I finally—you make me feel—I—"

Their eyes meet, darker blue to lighter blue in this dark and blue-lit room, this pocket of the storm.

"I'm glad I have someone. I'm glad I have you. I love you." Evan's eyes go watery as his lip trembles. "I'm so glad I have you. I'm so glad I didn't die, Tommy. I'm so glad I found you."

And Tommy had never been hit by lightning, but he didn't have to be to understand Evan: a man standing on the thinnest edge of the loneliest cliff, hoping something would pull him back.

"I love you," Tommy whispers, kissing his mouth, his hand in Evan's hair. "I'm so glad I found you."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Just Luke and reader being camp halfblood parental figures.

Percy: why do you call Luke and y/n your parents?

Annabeth; it’s hard not to, epically not when Luke watched over me and made sure my wounds were healed, nurse me back to health when sick like a mother. Whereas y/n would advice me to crush my enemies, destroy their egos with my intellect and ability to think on the spot, but in the same breath beat the shit out of anyone that looked at me wrong.

Annabeth: they both essentially raised me when we were together with Thalia. Who in this situation would be my cool aunt.

Percy: *whispering to himself* note to self, if I am to ever date annabeth, hypothetically, don’t piss off the parental unit known as y/n.

…

Luke: where have you been young man? You’ve had us worried sick.

Percy: who are you meant to be my dad?

You: no I am your dad/parental unit, now answer your mother.

Percy: *crosses arms* it’s none of your business.

You: *also crosses arms* would you like to repeat that again since you’re feeling sassy today?

Percy: …no…I was with Grover and Annabeth.

Luke: we’re only looking out for you, that’s all. *pats his shoulder with a smile* but you do know you’re not allowed to sneak out of your cabins after curfew.

You: which is a rule you broke that thus punishable, so you know what that means ~

Percy: I’m cabin grounded…

You: yes you absolutely are, now get to bed and think about what you’ve done to your poor mother. *cradles Luke in your arms as he tries not to laugh*

…

You: the both of you get on top of your bunks! Get up there!

Connor and travis: *climbing their bunk beds* THIS CABIN IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!

Luke: this is what you get for replacing shampoo with hair remover, poor Lucas from the Aphrodite cabin can’t look himself in the mirror anymore.

(I like to imagine that Connor and travis sleep on the top bunks of their beds so they can scheme to one another)

…

New camper: *points to you and luke* mom/dad/ etc and dad?

You and Luke: uhhh…yeah! 👍

…

(Good guy Luke au)

Nico: *sweet boy with the sweetest smile, complete deck of mythomagic cards that he wants to talk about, bright eyed and bushy tailed, just over all needs to be protected*

You: *cradles him to your chest* you sweet little boy! I know your pain and you’ve been nothing but brave this entire time.

Luke: *joining you* absolutely the bravest our sweet child of hades, we’ll keep you safe from now on.

Nico: I don’t know what’s going on but do you want to listen to me talk about my card game? *shows you both his cards with a beaming smile*

You and Luke: *sitting yourselves down In front of nico* oh absolutely we do. Nothing would make us happier.