#idc about the possible hate

[lena-artz]

Star Wars oc!!

Did this oc because I'm into Star Wars again(it's all because of Ewan McGregor)

Idk what to say about her.

I already have a bit of her lore...

I did her before I started rewatching the movies, so I kinda created a species for her?? I don't know tbh.

[sabriels]

being a blaine multishipper and trying to read fics where the author doesn't start obviously bashing other ships for no reason

[fleetsonourgecentral]

I keep imagining genuinely emotional/serious moments in a crossover between Fleetway and Prime Freedom Fighters, but every time my brain reminds me how short Fleetway!Sonic is compared to practically ever other iteration of him since he's based off of classic lmao

I need short Sonic and tall Scourge and Scourge making fun of his height

HELP FHSFHJSHJD he tiny.... Scourge definitely leans on him all the time and it drives him up the wall. Scourge will rest his arm on Sonic's head and Sonic will elbow him in the ribs as hard as he can, which in his defence does usually remove the arm but does nothing to deter the leaning in the long term. He has also absolutely tackled Scourge to the ground to kiss him because there is no way he is going to ask Scourge to lean down. It's a pride thing. Sonic the Hedgehog does not ask anyone to lean down to him. He will find a way to bring them to his level, especially if he wants kisses

Wait wait wait if Sonic is shorter does that also mean Scourge's jacket is too big for him..... fsdhjsdhj Sonic constantly stealing a jacket that is way too big for him because it smells like his boyfriend to piss Scourge off

[scionshtola]

i love sm that shtola’s recklessness comes from a place of being super confident in her abilities and decisions and that she doesn’t think she’s going to die bc she can cast flow instead of like a self loathing “i don’t care if i live” kind of thing that feels more prevalent to me

[saturnniidae]

Trying to speak with a white autistic person on their implicit bias issues that occasionally make themselves known but having to tread carefully bc the rsd is potent is actually the worst dance ever I feel like my metaphorical feet are bleeding please let me lay face down in the water while the tide takes me out

[faemurmur]

-> love&deepspace men when you’re on your period

xavier → the silent but devoted caretaker

• doesn’t say much, but he’s already stocked your favorite snacks and painkillers before you even realize you need them. he knows a thing or two about period, he also read that ginormous article written for hunters on their period which was posted publically. “you don’t have to push yourself too hard, little one.” he says as if he’s not requesting. as your mission partner, and mister lumiere :3 he will do anything and everything necessary and possible — that you get your much needed rest and you feel good. <3

• holds a heating pad against your stomach while you curl up against him, letting you steal his warmth. he would also make little bunnies and cute little animals from his evol, which jump around you and help distract you from the pain. he loves to kiss your forehead though, that’s his love language idc. he speaks ever so softly anyway, but during your period you can sense his softness multiply a tenfold.

• if you’re moody, he won’t take anything personally—he just strokes your hair and murmurs, “i know, love. it’s okay.” sometimes you feel bad at how cranky you get but xavier is nothing if not patient. he holds you through it, he would hug you gently, ask you if you’re craving anything . . . ugh he’s just the best boyfriend in the world (trust: source -> sol)

• massages your lower back with slow, firm circles, his touch grounding and steady. “just breathe, sweetheart. i’ve got you.” and he got you. with the way his skilled fingers massage your lower body, purring softly how he wishes you were never in pain… it elevates any discomfort instantly.

sylus → the playful distraction

• teases you at first—“aww, is my little demon suffering?”—but immediately shuts up when you glare at him. he smiles tenderly when he notices the shift in your eyes from the ever-so-defiant menace to a little kitten that needs his attention. he would scoop you up in his arms, carry you to his bedroom and play your favorite shows & musicals. he would hum the musical tones, knowing full well you pretend to hate his voice (when, in actuality you love it). :33

• literally lets you use him as a heating pad. his body is warm, and he’ll let you sprawl all over him if it helps. he’s daddy — which means he’s big. and he’s large & looming enough to be cuddled upto, to be someone you can use as your very own medium-soft mattress. his hands would tenderly massage your booty. his charismatic smirk would tease you with things like, “you know, i’ve heard orgasms help sweetie . . .” what a jerk /aff

• brings you the weirdest food combinations because “cravings are cravings,” and he wants to impress you. “pickles and chocolate? babe, i won’t judge.” what? you wanted to eat something sour earlier and now you demand sweets. he’s got both just in case his kitten’s mood fluctuates. ;)

• kisses your forehead every five minutes and dramatically says, “you’re so strong. so brave. a true warrior.” you roll your eyes at his antics, pretending his overboard affection doesn’t touch your heart. (it definitely does).

caleb → the overprotective pamperer

• wraps you in his hoodie before you can even complain about feeling cold. “there. now you smell like me and feel like me. better?” of course you do. when you got your first period, caleb was there with you. helping you through the cramps, holding you close and talking to you, telling you how sad he is that he can’t share your pain. “oh i know baby, come here.” he croons, letting you know that you can always, depend on him. (no matter what hat he’s wearing) :3

• refuses to let you lift a finger. he gets your water, your snacks, your blanket—everything. would get offended, and have his puppy dog eyes literally steal the thunder when you decide to do something by yourself if caleb is in the house. “pips, told ya to let me help. you’re not supposed to labour.” when you pout and whine, telling him not to treat you like a baby. he would pout harder! accept defeat or else!

• pulls you into his lap and strokes your thighs with his big, warm hands. “shh, i know. just let me take care of you, baby.” it’s so comforting but somehow ends up turning you on too. the way caleb holds you plush against him, his arm wrapping around you as he massages your thighs and your pelvis. “there there — i gotchu pips.”

• lowkey glares at your uterus like it personally offended him. “if i could fight it for you, i would.” you snort, drama king fr. “too bad the colonel can’t really give orders to my uterus.” you snicker, hugging him tightly and basking in his warmth. “too bad indeed.”

zayne → the doctor but also the boyfriend

• clinically speaking, he knows exactly how to help—hydration, light movement, proper nutrition—but he won’t push you if you just want to lay there like a gremlin. though he can’t help but be a little pushy. “i told you to stock up on your iron supplements to make sure you don’t have weakness during this time of the month.” / “a light walk is best suited—“ and when you throw a pillow at his face with a grumble, he knows to shut up. 🤫 (for now), with a tinge of mirth on his face.

• prepares the perfect cup of tea, adding just the right amount of honey. “this should help with the cramps, love.” he has matching mugs with you (he is so husband core), and would share the tea with you, doing a little clink with your matching mugs. “try it, it might not taste that good but it would surely help.”

• strokes your forehead and brushes your hair away, checking in with a soft, “how are you feeling now, darling?” when he comes back from the hospital, finding you curled up in a fetal position breaks his poor heart, he would sit next to you, press soft kisses and give you belly rubs. “what do you want to eat? i’d rather you eat anything. . .” he is sooo in with the junk food consumption shenanigans on your period hehe.

• lets you sleep on his chest while he reads, his steady breathing keeping you calm. he usually likes to read bed time stories to you, its yours and his favorite little ritual. but during your period, his voice is extra expressive. (which isn’t the norm.)

rafayel → the doting prince

• immediately cancels any plans so he can stay by your side. “nothing is more important than you right now.” even if its an art exhibition. thomas can cry and bang his head against the nearest wall — but rafayel isn’t budging. besides, who can control your fishie except you? ;)

• insists you rest while he does everything—cooking, running a warm bath, bringing you silk pillows, whatever you need. rafayel can be a little overbearing at times considering he is very attentive and attuned with his emotions. “rest.” the pouty look in his eyes as he forces you back to bed is to die for. you wonder how beautiful can someone look like that…

• whispers sweet praises into your ear. “my love, you endure so much. let me be your sanctuary.” please rafayel in love is a different breed altogether. he loves you so much you can see it from the way he behaves. you are made of glass. and when you gulp in that nasty tasting tablet for your cramps and aches, he hugs you and praises you like you’ve won the olympics gold medal.

• kisses the inside of your wrist, his voice like velvet. “just relax, my little goddess. let me spoil you.” he does spoil you but with insane amounts of money. calling in chefs from michellin star restaurants just so they can make your favorite food in an authentic way & his baby can eat -> hot, fresh food. “raf, you could just do takeouts-“ you pout softly, to which he chuckles. “nah, takeouts aren’t the same cutie.”

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

[jinxvex]

HIII!!! girl your sevika x reader bartender fic was so hot her talking them through it omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 if you take request could you do sevika x reader established relationship nsfw head canons or sfw head canons anything that make you comfy :333

♱ gf!sevika (established relationship) headcanons!! ♱

omg!! first request!! thank you anon, i'm so geeked rn omg 😆

i'll do both sfw & nsfw because i'm seated 4 both 🤭🤭...

cw: smutty shit, dirty talk, pet names, that shimmastrap, roughness, daddy kink (DON'T BE AFRAID IT'S NUN WEIRD), vulgar language, just plain smut LOL

SFW:

♱ she loves taking care of you! she loves when you can’t reach for something and you have to ask her to get it for you (it’s canon that she’s tall asf). she definitely has a smirk on her face when you’re struggling to open something for a while and she comes over and opens it in on the first try… + trust, you wouldn’t even have to ask her to carry your bags/things because she does it unprovoked (ahhh!! 🫠).

♱ to stem off of that, she loves buying you shit with her poker money + providing you with anything you need. 

♱ you always catch her staring at you! it makes you so flustered that you always look away + she turns your chin towards her so that you’re looking into her eyes and goes “don’t be shy, baby, it’s just me.” and “what? i can’t look at you?” with a cocky smile on her face (cuz why u playinggg LMAO). 

♱ loves to train with you and humble you by pinning you on the floor after your attempt to take her down. 

♱ calls you all kinds of sweet nicknames (even early on in the relationship, she doesn’t gaf.) “baby,” “babe,” “princess,” “angel,” “sweetheart,” “mama,” “doll,” “love,” “darling,” “beautiful,” everything you could possibly think of! 

♱ oh she’s not even looking at other women and she gets hella possessive/jealous if anyone looks your way as well (literally just wrote about this lol). 

♱ sevika is very protective of you in public and always has an arm resting on your shoulder and waist! (also so people know you’re hers).

♱ when you both go out to eat this woman always has to sit by you and rest her hand on your thigh because she’s literally OBSESSED with you. she would rest her hand on your thigh in the car as well! (she’s driving WBK). 

♱ she’s hesitant at first! but she eventually lets you craft her a skin and body care routine. she’s very set in her old ways and has the whole “use what works” attitude when it comes to skincare/shower routines. BUT! she does love watching you get excited when you talk about what ingredients in skincare will help with what.

♱ like i mentioned above, she’s more of a listener and prefers to listen to you talk.

♱ sevika feels SO guilty when she makes you upset. she will literally get down on her knees and look up at you, eyes asking, NO, BEGGING for forgiveness. “i'm sorry, princess. forgive me, please?” 

♱ she loves doing arts and crafts with you IDC!! she may try and act like she hates it but she loves it deep down! she’s the same way when you ask to do her makeup. the only way she’ll tolerate you doing it is if you sit on her lap while you do while her hands rest on your waist/ass. (what if i said she would be feeling herself in the mirror after you’re done) 

♱ as much as she loves solitude, she gets more clingy as the days go by! every single day she falls deeper and deeper in love with you and would do anything if it meant making you happy. don’t get it twisted though, she hates rollercoasters/amusement parks full of people so if you wanted to go, go with some friends girl…

now... *mariah carey voice* it's timmmmee 😫😫😜

NSFW:

♱ to start strong, DARE I SAY, sevika has a thing for titles during sex. *ahem* daddy kink (don’t kill me!!). i headcanon she didn’t bring it up first though! you may or may not have let it slip out while she was fucking you hard into the mattress. a single “f-fuck, daddy! right there!” and she’s pressing you deeper into the mattress as she slowly (but ROUGHLY) strokes her cock inside you. be prepared to repeat yourself when she asks, “huh? what did you say, baby?” + “what did you just call me?”. she calls you a “dirty fuckin’ slut” for wanting to call her daddy (she loves it).

♱ also, be prepared for the “who’s your daddy?” jokes because she thinks they’re HILARIOUS + refers to herself as “daddy” in the third person.

♱ eating you out is her favorite pastime! + loves the way you taste and cannot get enough. 

♱ SHE 👏🏽 IS 👏🏽 AN 👏🏽 ASS 👏🏽 WOMAN. not to say she doesn’t love the rest of you but you’re always catching her staring at your ass and she is not ashamed! she will have that same “can’t look at my woman?” attitude. she will also come up behind you when you’re doing the dishes or laundry and will grope your ass and bury her head into your shoulder to inhale your scent. 

♱ a giver!! she prefers to give instead of receive because she’s giving dom!top but… who said she would refuse you giving her pleasure? never that. sevika loves it when you ask to touch her! she pushes your head down when you’re eating her out like she’s throatfucking you. “fuck, baby, this mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” + “love this slutty fuckin’ mouth” 

♱ makes you suck the strap before you take it… nothing further…

♱ she loves seeing you in lingerie and tells you to give her a “show” (stripping your clothes until you’re in your lingerie and giving her a lil dance 😵). she’s all like “this all for me?” + “bend over.” when you show her your little outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

♱ eye contact is important to her! she will force you to make eye contact with her as she’s fucking you and if you don’t…. “gonna stop if you don’t look at me, dollface.” + “look at me when i fuck you.”

♱ the dirtiest dirty talker of all dirty talkers OMG. it’s insane how nasty she can get with you but it makes you so needy for her! ↓

♱ “fuuuck this pussy’s so good to me, baby.��, “shits so fuckin’ wet, you’re dripping all over me.”, + “look how i’m stretching this fuckin’ pussy out”… and the list goes on.

♱ the dirty talk gets even more vulgar when you ask her to cum in you. breeding kink goes CRAY TO THE Z. ↓

♱ you’re all like, “yes! yes! c-cum in me, please, daddy!” + she’s like, “gonna fill you up, baby. gonna give you all this cum.” and “you gonna let me put a baby in you, angel?”

♱ she LOVES it when you’re rough with her. scratch your nails down her back! pull her hair! mark up her neck!

♱ sevika does love soft sex as well. she is a softie at heart DO NOT FORGET! as much as she loves to degrade you and throw you around, she loves to worship your body and kiss you all over! she loves to praise and tell you how gorgeous you are. “you’re so beautiful, baby, you know that?” + “you’re always so good for me, my good fuckin' girl."

hope you like anon!! thank you for the request! had fun writing this 😘

[queenkatluv]

Don’t Use My Voice For AI

I’m so fucking sick of this guys, holy shit. How many times do we have to say DON’T DO THAT BEFORE YOU GET THE HINT??!

Idc if you don’t think it’s dangerous, I don’t care if you think it doesn’t hurt anyone.

If you think it’s so okay, let me compile your voice into a bot, make it moan and send that clip out to children and weirdos, let me use your voice to make you say slurs and pretend you actually said it. Let me make you say the most disgusting things possible and try to cancel you.

I legit hate that you guys keep fucking dragging me back to talking about that fucking fandom by doing the most disgusting shit. But if you want attention so badly, guess what, I’ll give it to you. Every account that I find, I’ll reblog this with a picture of. Just know I AM reporting everything I find, and I don’t care if this sparks a witch hunt or shaming. I’m tired of expressing our boundaries and constantly getting pushback or bad parties hiding in the shadows.

Here’s our first star of disrespecting our boundaries!

[gay-dorito-dust]

KISSING FORD AND HIS GLASSES ARE ALL MESSED UP (FOGGED UP TOO????) AND LEAVING KISS MARKS ALL OVER HIM N HES ALL FLUSTERED AND AGGHAGHGAHHGHAHHH COLLEGE FORD OR OLDMAN FORD IDC thinking many thoughts . ...,.,..,. 😣😣🤭

A flustered college!ford/ old man Ford will leave you wanting to flutter him even more, run your hands through his hair and make it disheveled or grip and tug at his clean, kept clothes until they look unkept and messy as though he was caught up in something that wouldn’t let him go (you)

Smother the poor man in kisses to the point he’s concerning red and unable to look you in the eyes, not without immediately grasping at your face and pulling you into another kiss/make out session as you made yourself comfortable in his lap.

His glasses would be fogged up and slightly slanted on his face afterwards but you’re addicted to the smile that spread across his face as he tried to catch his breath, this smart, needy, awkward man had you practically going nuts over the smallest of things; so much so that all that went through your mind was to ravage Ford however you could and do it nonstop until he was a mess under you.

Probably whimpers/ groans hotly in your mouth

This man who has little to no experience with kissing will grown an addiction to your lips sooner or later, so much to the point he can’t go a single moment without kissing your lips at least three times a day, maybe even more. And even then it isn’t enough for poor Ford who’ll touch his lips and remember your lingering warmth and suddenly lost focus as he fantasies about the next time he gets to kiss you.

You ruin his work ethic and while he wants to be mad about it, he can’t because your kisses tend to make him forget what he was mad about to begin with. So use this knowledge wisely and appropriately, or not and use it whenever and wherever ever just to get a rise out of Ford at every minor inconvenience.

You make the smartest man in the room go completely dumb for your kisses, pat yourself on the back for such an achievement.

This man will go about his day with the most dopey smile across his face, Stanley had to say something.

‘Did you get laid?’ - Stanley

‘No.’ - Ford

‘Then why do you look like that?’ - Stanley

‘Like what?’ - Ford

‘Like you just got laid.’ - Stanley.

‘Y/n kissed me this morning.’ - Ford’s dreamily.

‘Whipped.’ - Stanley as he drinks his pitt cola.

‘What?’ - Ford

‘Nothing.’ Stanley, remembering this to tell you later for the hell of it.

Kissing Ford is an addiction and you don’t stop until he’s covered in your love marks. His turtlenecks hide the marks you’ve left on his neck, but it was obviously that they were there regardless that he might as well not bother.

Ford’s grip on your waist/hip would tighten desperately as he kept you close against him while you kissed him, your chests pressed firmly against one another but it wasn’t close enough for Ford as though he wanted to be close to you as possible, that or try to ground himself with you but was failing.

He hated when you pulled away to catch your breath so much that the man fucking pouts, he fucking pouts until you kiss him senseless again.

I just want to kiss this man senseless until he anticipating the next time I bruise his lips with mine! I have so many thoughts about a flustered Ford after kissing reader for the first time! It’s eating me alive!

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

YOUNGER, FASTER, BETTER!!

arthur leclerc x male!verstappen!driver!reader

request: hmm. arthur leclerc x verstappen!driver!reader - happy with whatever format :) - @spoonfulofmilo

summary: you and your boyfriend are always compared to your older brothers.

warnings: hate comments, swearing, no written parts, affectionate bullying between arthur + reader, minor mentions of the red bull-ferrari rivalry (lighthearted)

arthur_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, dinobeganovic, and 221,897 others

arthur_leclerc in this house we support one (1) red bull driver and we'd support him a lot more if he was a ferrari driver 🥲❤️

tagged youruser

                comments

user1 lecstappen > lestappen idc idc

user2 arthur and y/n dating despite their older brothers were karting rivals is so endearing to me

youruser or you could just move to red bull 😁

arthur_leclerc never gonna happen, mon amour ❤️

user3 THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT THAT CHARLES AND MAX'S YOUNGER BROTHERS ARE DATING???

user4 they're so cute oh my lord

youruser

liked by pepemarti, logansargeant, and 182,429 others

youruser mexico, you were a dream 💙

(ft my lovely + insufferable boyfriend)

tagged arthur_leclerc

                comments

user5 i am so soft for them omg 😭

user6 something about y/n winning his f2 race when max's car is on a decline makes me sad :(

arthur_leclerc i am NOT insufferable!!!

youruser you spent an hour arguing with me over the pronunciation of stroopwafel this morning

arthur_leclerc you were saying it wrong!

youruser I'M LITERALLY DUTCH??????

user7 oh yeah i see why you guys like lecstappen now-

user8 i didn't think it was possible for them to be more chaotic than lestappen but they're so funny

arthur_leclerc

liked by christianmansell, olliebearman, and 281,470 others

arthur_leclerc autumn would be better with you x

tagged youruser

                comments

user9 no mention of charles being on the sprint podium in brazil ...

user10 right, but he talks about missing his "boyfriend" 🙄

user11 this is why you don't get promoted to formula one, you're dating a competitor

youruser how dare you look so Boyfriend when i'm not there to kiss you stupid :( 💙

arthur_leclerc *❤️ and you can kiss me when you get home

user12 genuinely how do they even think they're good together ... they're always arguing in the comments

user13 it's so cute how they always have a picture of the other in their posts

comments on this post have been limited.

youruser

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 283,921 others

youruser qatar feature done + dusted, onto abu dhabi for the last round of the season and testing!

bonus: a throwback to my lovely bf and his okay brother in monaco

                comments

user14 it's so obvious that max got all the talent ...

user15 the nerve of calling charles "okay" when he can't even get into f1 🙄

arthur_leclerc always love seeing you on the top step of the podium, mon amour ❤️

youruser only a matter of time before you're back there too 💙

user16 he's so ungrateful, posting a f*rrari win when red bull are literally the only reason he has a seat

user17 all the people in the comments acting like you can win races with money and talent isn't involved bffr

comments on this post have been limited.

redbullracing and scuderiaferrari

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel, and 890,374 others

redbullracing and scuderiaferrari THAT'S OUR ROOKIES!!

Arthur Leclerc and Y/N Verstappen set the exact same fastest lap time in the first session of post-season testing here in Abu Dhabi! Also known as the first drivers to race against each other while dating, the boys have proved once and for all that they are more than just the younger brothers of F1 stars Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.

We look forward to their continued development and can't wait to see the greatness they inevitably achieve 💙❤️

                comments

user18 we got a joint post between rbr and ferrari before gta6??

user19 congrats to the best boyfriends on the internet!

user20 glad to see their teams finally standing up for them ... even by formula one's standards, the hate towards them was getting out of hand liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and others

youruser younger, faster, ...

arthur_leclerc better 😉

user21 future WDCs 💪

user22 if they ever have kids ... imagine rocking up to a karting competition and seeing the name VERSTAPPEN-LECLERC 😭

user23 good for them

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: i kinda think this is cute but lemme know if you guys hate it lol

comments + reblogs appreciated!

credits: pinterest for the photos!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[vamptizm]

NOT A SECRET — paige bueckers

pairing : paige bueckers x wnba!fem!reader

synopsis : the bliss of winning the wnba championship causes a big slip up that exposes your relationship to the world

warnings : explicit language, alcohol, cigars and sexual innuendos (if you don’t like the new york liberty, you can replace it with your favourite team idc)

note : i haven’t checked for typos that thoroughly so… my bad

word count : 2.6k

What’s better than succeeding in life in almost every aspect? Sharing that success with someone you love and that loves you back, unconditionally and wholly. Meeting Paige Madison Bueckers had undoubtedly been one of the best things that life had blessed you with, other than your flourishing career. The two of you had met in 2019, both playing for team USA. Later on you would meet again at UConn, playing and succeeding alongside each other for the past four years. It wasn’t until barely a year ago, that the two of you decided to be brave enough to confess your love. But sadly, everything must end for a new chapter to begin, and here you were, living a two and a half hour drive from her to chase your dreams.

Luckily for you, Paige was the most dedicated and passionate girlfriend in the world, making it her mission to attend as many of your games during the playoff season as possible. Today was no different. It was her birthday, her special day, and here she was, supporting you. Hoping to celebrate you, rather than celebrating herself.

You were pacing around the open kitchen of your—extremely overprized—apartment, the nerves and anxiety eating at you like maggots, heart pounding in your throat and hands sweaty. This was by far, one of the most important games in your life so far, if not more important than the game against Iowa only six month ago.

“How about you stop walking around in circles and c’mere?” Paige spoke up from her spot on the malta-beige couch, arm slung over the back rest as her neck craned slightly to look back at you.

“I can’t, I feel like I’m about to throw up.” You spoke, your voice coming out almost like a choked whine, wiping your hands down on your sweatpants for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

You only had an hour left until you had to be ready and at the Barclays Center. Two and a half hours until the final game against the Minnesota Lynx began. You were a mess, and no one could blame you.

Sighing at your distressed state, the blonde lifted herself off of the couch, walking towards you with sympathetic eyes. She hated seeing you this way. It wasn’t the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last, but it never burdened her. If you needed to cling to her like a lifeline, she would be there. Every. Single. Time.

“Oh, baby. C’mere.” Her arms opened wide once she was standing a mere foot away from you, wrapping you into a hug. So tight and warm, so comforting and safe that for a moment, it felt like all your worries vanished into thin air. The only thing that mattered was the intoxicating scent and the protective warmth of your girlfriend.

You buried your face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist as you allowed yourself to breathe—really breathe—for the first time since you had woken up. “I’m just scared. What if I mess up? What if I disappoint everyone and then I’ll be the rookie that ruined everything.” You mumble into her neck, voice slightly muffled but she understood you perfectly.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Paige’s voice was firm, yet it didn’t lack the tenderness and gentleness you so desperately needed. Her hands snaked up, pulling away from the hug just enough to be able to cup your face in them. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re on top of the league right now, if not the world. This is not going to ruin your career. It is not going to diminish everything you have achieved and you’re sure as hell not going to disappoint everyone.”

With her hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks and eyes looking deeply into yours, you couldn’t help but tear up. Maybe it was the stress, maybe the nerves, or maybe it was the reassurance and praise that not only her words offered, but her entire presence in that moment.

“You’re going to be great, just as you’ve always been. How many times have you felt just like this and ended up wiping the floor with everyone?”

The way she was looking down at you almost had your knees crumbling, so gentle and sincere. “You think so?” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and if it had been any other situation, you would’ve cringed at yourself.

“Baby, I know so.” Paige didn’t have to say more than that. It was enough to boost your confidence from basement level, to the roof.

You didn’t say much either, choosing to bask in the moment, hands snaking up to lay over hers that were still cupping your face, looking up at her with glassy eyes and a faint smile. In that moment, it was only appropriate for you to inch closer, placing a soft and short kiss on her pillow soft lips.

A smile crept up on the blonde as you pulled back again, “So… How about ‘pre-game good luck’ head?”

“Well… Wait, No! I’m still in distress.”

The arena buzzed with a low hum of anticipation as you stood at the edge of the court, taking in the packed stands, the flashing lights, and the sea of Liberty blue and green. Your heart was pounding—though you'd had nerves all day, they'd sharpened now that the moment was upon you . You scanned the crowd, gaze catching Paige's in her seat near the front. Paige's steadying smile softened the sharp edges of Your anxiety, and you exhaled, focus narrowing. This was it. The moment you had been working your ass of for. It was now or never.

As the whistle blew, your nerves dissolved like mist, replaced by the razor focus of competition. Everything outside the court vanished, your only objective now to take down the Lynx and bring home a win for the team. But as the first quarter unfolded, it became clear this game wouldn't go as planned. Your team struggled to find their rhythm, their usual crisp passes and quick plays seeming off. Shots were bouncing off the rim, free throws missed their mark, and the Lynx defense was ruthless. Every time you managed to drive toward the basket, you felt hands clawing at your arms, hips bumping you hard off course. You fought to keep your form steady, but even your own three-pointers—normally a guaranteed lifeline—fell just short. Beside you, Sabrina was playing through visible pain, her movements cautious, hindered by her UCL injury.

Paige's chest tightened with each missed shot and lost point, her eyes tracking your every move. She could see your frustration mounting, shoulders tensing after every failed attempt, and every bit of her wanted to rush down there, to shield you from the weight of this game. Tell you that she believed in you more than anything.

By halftime, the Liberty had fallen behind by nearly double digits. You felt your stomach knot and churn as you walked back down the tunnel toward the locker room, breath shaky, mind racing over every failed shot, every error. Before you knew it, hot tears were spilling down your cheeks, stinging with the shame of coming up short. You barely noticed the footsteps trailing you until you heard Paige's voice calling out her name, a beacon of comfort piercing her distress.

You slowed and turned, and there was your girlfriend, just outside the locker room door, her eyes brimming with concern. A teasing voice broke the tension—Stewie, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Hey, save some of those tears for the win, rook. You're not out of this yet."

Despite yourself, you let out a shaky laugh, and then you were in Paige's arms, face buried against her shoulder. You clung to her, breathing in the familiar scent and drawing strength from your girlfriend's embrace. "I'm playing like shit right now," you mumbled, voice thick with disappointment.

She tilted your chin up, meeting your eyes with steady determination. "Hey, look at me. You've been through worse than this. Most of these people today are here to watch you. You're gonna go back out there and you're gonna play your game. I know you. You're not done." Her words wrapped around you like armor, steadying your nerves. With a last kiss on the cheek, Paige whispered, "Go show them who you are, Ma."

Buoyed by the reassurance, you returned to the court for the second half with renewed fire only ten minutes later. Your team began to close the gap, each player digging deep as they fought to find their rhythm. Your shots began to connect, and your movements were sharper, cleaner, feeding off your team's newfound energy. You could feel Paige's eyes on you from the stands, grounding you with every step.

By the time the game went into overtime, your team had clawed their way to a slim four-point lead, the clock ticking down the final seconds. With a fierce determination, you seized her moment—gripping the ball just past half-court, you made the reckless decision in a split second. You set your stance and launched a deep three-pointer, watching as the ball arched high into the air. The arena fell silent, everyone holding their breath as it spun toward the basket.

And then—swish. The ball dropped cleanly through the net, and the crowd erupted, an unstoppable wave of sound crashing over the court. Your teammates surged around you, pulling you into hugs and shouting in joy, their faces bright with triumph. You felt the overwhelming relief, the weight of victory sinking in as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

Amid the chaos, your gaze instinctively searched for Paige, who was already standing by her seat, pride radiating from her. Without thinking, you ran toward her, your heart full to bursting. When you reached Paige, your threw your arms around her, catching her in a fierce embrace. Before either of you registered what you were doing, you pressed a kiss to Paige's lips, the world melting away in that single moment. You were on cloud nine and nothing could bring you down, anytime soon.

Paige held you close, tears shimmering in her own eyes as she whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Baby. You fucking did it."

And for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of every struggle, every doubt, lifted, replaced by the solid warmth of love, victory, and the freedom to embrace who you truly were.

But then it dawned on you. The sudden realization of what you had just done and your face dropped, heart pounding impossibly faster in your throat all while Paige continued to hold you close. "Oh my god... Oh. My. God." You could barely manage to find the words, the guilt of what you had just done so impulsively hitting you like a wave and throwing you off that thrown you had been sitting on just a mere minute ago.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... Oh god, I fucked up. The whole world just saw that, what do we do?" It was clear as day that you were panicking, the fear of disappointing your girlfriend eating away at you.

Paige however, didn't seem to have lost that smile on her face, her bright eyes almost blinding with the sparkle that shimmered in them, all while gazing at you. "I don't care. We've talked about this before, I want the world to know."

"Really?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, not trusting yourself to keep it from cracking in that moment.

"Yes, really. I would be fucking insane if I had anything against the world knowing that I'm not only dating the most wonderful person alive, but also a champion."

Your frown quickly turned upside down into a small smile, heart searing with love and pride. Not only were you a winner tonight, but with her on your side, you'd be a winner for the rest of your life.

"Now go and celebrate, you deserve it." The blonde began to release you from her grip, a soft grin playing on her lips.

"Come with me." You suggested instantly, not wanting to be apart from her for even just a second, if you didn't have to. "I wanna show off my prettier trophy on her birthday."

Paige's grin melted into a smirk, the sparkle in her blue eyes suddenly clouded and you had to make sure that your own eyes weren't playing tricks on you. "Your trophy, huh? Oh, I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back home, champ."

Back in the locker room, the team was in full championship mode. As you and Paige stepped in, you were instantly drenched with a spray of ice-cold champagne, your teammates laughing and cheering as they each took turns celebrating. The room was filled with a mix of joyous shouts, laughter, and the sticky-sweet smell of champagne spilling from bottles held high. You could feel the bubbles fizzing on your skin, jersey soaked through, but none of that mattered—this was the taste of victory, and you drank it in like the best moment of your life.

Stewie grinned, grabbing a cigar and offering it to you with a proud nod. “Here you go, rook. You’ve earned it.”

You took it with a chuckle, feeling the weight of the cigar in your hand as you looked around at your ecstatic teammates. You didn’t smoke often, but right now, it felt like the perfect way to mark the moment. As you lit up, you took a slow draw and exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the air, feeling an odd thrill in the movement. Around you, your teammates roared in laughter and cheered you on, playfully tousling your hair and congratulating you as you relaxed further into the moment.

Paige stood slightly apart from the chaos, watching you with an expression of open admiration. Paige’s gaze lingered on you, catching every spark of joy in your eyes, every smile, and every bit of laughter that spilled from your lips. She let herself soak in the sight, wanting to imprint it on her memory—this perfect image of you, triumphant and glowing, a little champagne-drunk and flushed from the celebration. She didn’t care about the sticky residue of the champagne on her own skin or the faint smell of smoke in the air; all she could focus on was you, looking impossibly beautiful.

As you took another drag, exhaling the smoke with an air of confidence that was as charming as it was unfamiliar, Paige’s heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way you held herself tonight, bold and carefree, that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

You caught Paige’s eyes and, with a giggle, took a playful step toward her, the effects of the champagne clear in your soft, relaxed gaze. “Are you okay over there?” you teased, tilting your head with a grin, clearly catching on to Paige’s stare.

Paige’s lips curled into a smirk, her voice low as she leaned in, brushing a hand along your arm. “Oh, I’m doing great,” she murmured, her tone filled with a hint of mischief. “Just… can’t wait to get you home.”

Your eyes sparkled with a playful challenge as you smirked right back, the faint scent of champagne and cigar smoke hanging in the air between them. “I’m all yours in an hour or so,” you whispered, leaning in close enough that only Paige could hear.

“Longest hour of my life,” Paige replied, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as they lingered on your smile.

The locker room buzzed around you, but in that moment, you both were in your own world, two people tangled in a look filled with promises for later, ready to savor every bit of this win—together.

[lowkeyrobin]

Miguel x reader but reader is just absolutely in love with Miguel but Miguel has eyes for sam and reader tries to be supportive be can't so they distance themself away from Miguel😁

- ♠️

dude I swear we're gonna brawl and I'm gonna make the guy ur talking too watch as I win. I'm so srs rn I'm gonna tell meemaw (I lit don't even know them all that well but idc) ; anyways thanks I guess 😒 /sarc ; but I went a little off the rails w this one cause why not

MIGUEL DIAZ ; casual

summary ; you have eyes for miguel while he slowly distances himself to be with sam, and you accept your fate

warnings ; language, physical fighting / a punch thrown

disclaimers ; miguel is a whole fucking villain, kinda off to canon timeline cause I'm rewatching atm and it's hard to keep 5 seasons straight in the brain, fun hawk tory and demetri content cause they'd be so cool together

track ; casual, chappell roan

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

You thought that maybe after all these months being with Miguel meant that you were together. Apparently not.

After two weeks of dating, his mom invited you over for dinner.

You gave him everything.

You did everything for him, you owed him everything, you could only thank him for being alive now.

After all the passionate making out, the special dates, the first time experiences, after everything, he said that. He said that there were no attachments. Every time you kissed, you gained anger issues, knowing his lips were probably on another's at some point between the last and now.

He made out with you after pressing you against the wall while his family sat at the dinner table down the hall.

But no, it was just casual.

You knew he just told his friends that it was just casual.

You loved being dumb about it for a while, at least while you thought it was real. After graduation, you'd have an apartment, and he'd show you off to his friends at the pier.

You noticed his unfocused gaze upon you. You noticed how he looked more interested in Sam LaRusso, again, for that matter.

You were just a rebound, apparently.

But apparently, it was just casual when he made out with you in the locker room just before the All Valley tournament. Yeah, it was just casual when you were on the phone trying to convince him not to run away to go find his dad, yet he went anyways.

You made out with him when you went to dinner, his mom and Johnny at the table.

Yet once he knew that you knew that he was into Sam again, he wondered why you were bitter. He bragged to his friends about how much he loved your lips, how much he wanted you and how amazing you were.

You hated how you allowed it to drag on, how you let it break you as much as it possibly could before you just gave the fuck up.

You hated yourself.

You hated yourself for allowing it to happen. You hated yourself for letting him think it was just casual. You hated yourself for not fucking killing him once you caught him in the act.

But no, you had to be the chill person who would just shrug it off.

At least some of your mutual friends were on your side after you texted them about it. Demetri, Tory, and Hawk the most, slightly surprisingly on Hawk's part.

The trio immediately rushed to your house, knowing you needed someone to lean on. For fuck's sake, you just saw your supposed boyfriend making out with his ex in a rollerrink.

The (kind of unlikely) trio, during a grace period between Eagle Fang slash Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do, had to team up just this once for their favorite, non-Miguel friend. They were all shocked and disgusted by Miguel's actions, though kind of expecting it.

He was infamous for his love triangles, apparently.

Tory holds you in her arms, allowing your vulnerability to show through while Demetri talks, hoping his rambles would ease your pain. Hawk is downstairs, making you some mac and cheese since you hadn't eaten dinner.

"Fuck him," Tory smiles, cutting of Demetri's nonsense ramble. "You're better than him, in many ways, actually. But, he lost you, that's his problem. You're free, Y/n. It wasn't just casual, I don't know why he's lying to himself, but he and Sam can go suck it. He clearly doesn't deserve you. You're way out of his league anyway"

You look up at her, a smile painting your face before you hug her. "Thanks, Tory"

Demetri awkwardly sits on the foot of your bed, unknowing of what to say or do. Tory gives him a look, considering you'd need feedback from both male and female friends of yours slash Miguel's. Her current state of mind was just showing you that there were apparently sides and they were on yours.

Demetri nods, quickly getting the message. "Yeah, he doesn't deserve you. You should like, get him back or something. Or at least yell at him, or something. I mean, getting back with your ex while trying to tell your current partner it's just casual? He fumbled"

You giggle, wiping your tears away. "Thanks, dude."

A light knock is heard at the door before it's opened, revealing Hawk with a tray carrying four bowls of mac and cheese, forks stuck in each of them. In his pockets are water bottles, two shoved in each one. The purple haired boy lightly sets the food down on your dresser, handing a bowl to each of you, then tossing you a bottle of water.

You all eat in silence, you trying to gather your thoughts while the others attempt to even wrap their minds around what you were going through after what Miguel did. In the background, on Demetri's phone, The Umbrella Academy plays, his phone perched against a few pillows on the bed where you were all huddled together.

Hawk and Tory share a look before turning back to the screen, enjoying the calm quiet that basked over them.

"what do you mean, why am i bitter???"

"youre being weird about this, we were never anything. you were basically a rebound. get over it omfg"

The three look up from your phone then at you, astonished looks painting their expressions. Their eyebrows are furrowed, their eyes widened.

"What the fuck?" Tory asks, "You weren't lying about that, were you?"

You shake your head. "Literally, what does he want from me? Of course I'm mad, he basically lead me on and won't explain why he was making out with his ex, then bragging to his friends about "oh we're casual"

Demetri bites his lower lip, trying not to laugh, considering it was a nervous tic of his. He shares an eyebrow jump with Hawk before listening in again. Hawk quickly grabs your phone from your hands unexpectedly.

"Dude-"

"What're you doing?"

"Calling him"

"What?!"

"Why?"

"I'm not talking to him-"

The dial tone makes your skin crawl as you hear it.

"Just let it out," Hawk shrugs, handing you the phone.

"Feel like I'd rather do this in real life, Moskowitz."

You feel an absolute weight fall from your shoulders as it moves to the voicemail, seeing as Miguel declined the call himself. You sigh out of relief, quickly shutting your phone off.

You glare at Hawk.

"Would you rather do it face to face? I can tell him to meet me somewhere and we'll jump him or something" He shrugs.

"Violence isn't gonna help anything," Tory declines. "We'll get him to go somewhere quiet yet busy. That way, you can expose him or something. Mental violence is better than physical"

"Says the champion of the All Valley girl's team"

"I'm tempted to paralyze him again."

The three friends share half fearful looks, knowing you didn't joke lightly in times like this. They lay their eyes upon Sam and Miguel again, holding hands as they walk through the hallway.

You bite your tongue, trying to hold back yelling profanities as they walk past you. You lean against the red lockers where Demetri fishes out a few textbooks from his. Tory stands by you while Hawk leans against them as well, arms crossed.

"What if we tell people there's a fight, you expose him, since you got receipts, and you beat him up?" Hawk suggests, throwing his idea out there.

You shrug. "I think he could beat my ass. That'd be embarrassing"

He shrugs in return. "Eh. He hasn't been practicing recently. He's probably a little rusty. Like, he hasn't been showing up to class for days"

Tory and Demetri nod to confirm Hawk's statement. You shrug again.

"M'kay"

"You wanna get suspended over this?" Demetri asks, closing his locker.

"First offense," you reply with an informative tone.

"Oh, I'm crazy because I thought you gave a shit about me? Please, inform me what casual is to you"

"Something not serious."

"But that's why we went out on dates, and why I did everything you asked of me?"

"You didn't have too"

"So?"

"So what?"

"So you're a bitch"

You quickly pull your clenched fist back, then push forward to hit Miguel straight in the face. He quickly gasps, along with the bystanders, holding a hand to his now bleeding nose.

"What the hell?"

Tory and Hawk goofily grin while Demetri lightly smiles, proud of you for sticking to your word.

"Too-da-loo, mister casual." You spin on your heel, walking back to your three friends.

They wrap you into side hugs, pulling you away from the shocked boy who'd essentially played you. Bystanders laugh at him and gawk at you, snapping pictures, sending videos across the school.

A happy little smile remains on your face as you're sent home for the rest of the week.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Is he mine? Fucking obviously.

also btw I color code my titles I don't pick them like this for the aesthetics of it

Barbie dolls: Touya Todoroki x gn! reader

Word: 6.5k

Summary: Touya almost died on national television and disappears from from the public's eyes with no way to contact him you decide to keep your pregnancy a secret from him

Warning: You get pregnant! idc of its m!preg or abo or magic or just bareback fucking that got you there I'm just telling you you got pregnant, you keep the baby btw, your son is named Kaito (which according to name berry means sea so there), your son refers to you by Ren and Rena which is a gender neutral term for parent it's like mom and dad essentially, you fuck dabi at one point it's not smut it's just mentioned, Touya goes to rehab and so if he's ooc then it's rehabs fault not mine, I am kidding but he is definitely not exactly dabi core dykwim, you grieve Touya even tho technically he's alive it'll make sense when you read it but you cry a couple times just fyi, idk man, mentioned once that you wanted children before w Touya, 'crotch goblin' used I j feel like that's some shit dabi would say but I digress, Elmo reference tell me if you find it, possible allusions to Kaito being autistic but like boo fucking hoo idk, mention of blunts, SIDs mentioned once, also mentioned that you may or may not have anxiety especially over your son, yeah okay lmk if you any blue words I didn't do that on purpose

part two

Before the war, you knew Dabi. You knew Touya, as well. When he was watching over you from the shadows during the day, he was Dabi. When he was buried in your arms hiding under your sheets, he was Touya. You kept him close to you, there wasn’t another way you’d like to live. You hated to say it but you needed his eyes and hands on you. You didn’t care what he did during the day or even at night as long as he wandered back to you through your door. You didn’t care if you both sat on the couch and stared at the TV or if you ripped his clothes off with greedy hands, as long as you could feel the abnormal heat of his body on yours. Maybe that made you morally questionable, you didn’t care. You knew who you were and you knew who he was. You knew your lungs would collapse if you couldn’t see those blue eyes again. 

After the war that all changed. Watching your lover almost kill himself on live television made you feel sick to your stomach. You had to leave the building entirely, only to find it broadcasted all over the screens of passersby’s phones, billboards, and the small television behind the counter of every convenience store. You hid under your sheets, hoping when you woke up they would smell like him because he was lying next to you. 

You heard of his whereabouts through coworkers' gossip, news articles, and murmurs from the public. None of whom knew you had kissed him goodbye the morning before, having no idea what was to come. You read every article you saw. You eavesdropped on every conversation. You bought every magazine that even slightly mentioned the Todoroki family. You knew the only way you’d know if he was okay was through the third-person retelling by a reporter. 

He was in severe recovery. He was in one piece, technically. His father was paying for his bills. He was likely to be alright. 

Really that’s all you needed, yet somehow it still wasn’t enough. You needed to see him and hold him. You wondered if he was eating solids or if he was on a tube. You wondered if he needed you to add another row of staples. You hated when he asked that of you, you couldn’t turn him down when he looked up at you with his pleading eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach but you were the only one, besides himself, he trusted to do it. What you would give up now to groan and complain about having to replace his staples. 

Slowly as time pulled along, Touya made the news less and less. You took fewer magazines from their rack, his face didn’t make it to the television, and you felt his image slipping away from you. 

Your sheet smelled more like you than they did him. His clothes had been through the wash multiple times now. You kept tossing them into the dirty hamper straight from the dryer because you couldn’t bear to throw them away or hide them in a closet. Your stack of newspapers and magazines stayed stacked at the corner of your desk. You cried when you had to sweep up the dirt from his boots by the front door. Then you cried for crying over that.

You felt pathetic the way you started to hate him for all this. You wanted to slap him and jab your finger in his face. You wanted to call him a selfish bastard.  You cried in your kitchen when you realized you accidentally bought his favorite foods as second nature. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he had just slipped from your life like that. 

He was alive, yes but alive in the same way a relative across the world was. You knew they were out there but it’d be a cold day in hell before they were in your living room. 

You slowly pieced yourself back together. His clothes were folded and put away on the shelf of your closet. You stopped looking at them when you started to get ready for the day as time went on. You stopped buying his food. You threw out most of the newspapers, only keeping the pages that really mattered. You folded them all up and shoved them into a drawer in your desk. You stop seeing him everywhere in your home. You stopped seeing him in your mind. 

Just as you were getting back on your feet, the world played a sick trick on you. You found out you were pregnant. After some thinking and a lot of it, you made your decision. You were keeping it. Yes sure it came out of nowhere. Yes sure your baby would be raised in a single-parent household. You always wanted this. You thought of asking Touya about it sometimes but you always chickened out. Now you wouldn’t be doing it with Touya, but you could have the life you wanted. A child. You were ready, you felt it in your bones. 

You had the baby. For months before the due date, you had scoured for name ideas. You wrote down names you heard over conversations in cafes. You read every article. You considered naming your baby after Touya. You scratched that idea after realizing you’d like to have his consent for that. You thought of him on your couch over seven months ago. He would’ve said ‘Hell no. Don’t name one of those crotch goblins after me.’ You bought books on the very subject. You slapped post-it notes to your fridge when you found one you liked. Yet all that came crashing down when you finally had your baby in your arms. 

You were fucking worn out. Your hands felt like they were going to cramp from all the squeezing you did to the handrails and your poor nurse. Your hair was sticking to your face. You felt like you stinked. Your lungs felt heavy and your ribs felt tight. With your little ‘crotch goblin’ in your arms you felt a smile grow on your face. 

His face was scrunched up in a cry, a tiny fist pressed against his cheek. You gently rubbed the side of his face with your finger, trying to calm him down. His cry settled as he pushed his face toward you. You whispered a hello. You were fully encapsulated by him, your son, you paid no attention to the doctor still between your legs. Your baby let out a coo as he opened his eyes, staring up at you.

You knew babies could really see at this age, he was probably just looking in the direction of your voice. Whether or not he could see you had no effect on the color of his eyes. You knew them. They were the same ones who would stare at you from across your room as you got ready for bed. The same ones that would plead you for new staples. The same ones that sat across from you during dinner. The same ones that reminded you of the cold and freezing sea. 

“Kaito.” You muttered, earning a coo from him. You nodded. “Yeah? Do you like that name?” he huffed and pushed his nose towards your arm. You hummed. “Kaito it is, then.” 

A year and a half went by before you ever heard from Touya again. You were doing some cleaning while Kaito was at daycare, hurrying so you could still have time for relaxation before you had to go pick him up.

You loved him dearly but a toddler was a lot to handle. Especially alone. You found a daycare nearby that you trusted, and your mental health picked up drastically. A few hours of silence on the weekends and time to work from home without a toddler trying to lick a socket was all that you seemed to need to feel whole. As you were throwing his toys back into the large basket on the other side of the living room, you heard a knock. You paused before throwing the toy truck. You moved to the front door, peeking through the peep hole. 

A woman with white hair and streaks of red, glasses, and a blue sweater was waiting at your door. You pulled away from the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. She smiled at you once she saw you. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, smiling but feeling terribly awkward about the whole thing. She nodded. 

“Hi, I’m Fuyumi. My brother, Touya, was finally released from his mess of operations and hospitals. And he-“ Your smile fell when you finally registered the name. Yes, you heard it but you just didn’t think you’d ever hear that name again. It had just floated over your head. You realize this was his sister standing in front of you. You closed the door so you were squeezed between it and the frame, smiling like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. You couldn’t let her see the tiny rain boots, light-up sneakers, and brightly colored toys on your floor. Fuyumi glanced at you over the frame of her glasses, a slightly confused look passing over her face before she schooled it. She pulled her bag from her shoulder, rummaging her hand through it. 

“-is finally in rehab. They’re letting him have pencils now after strings being pulled by our father. Anyway, he-um- gave me these letters. He told me I needed to find you. He said he wouldn’t trust anyone else to give these to you. He considered our mom, but he said-“ 

“Letters?” You repeated, watching her hands as they dug through her bag. She nodded, looking up at you for a brief second. 

“Yes. here they are, finally.” She pulled a stack of three letters from her bag, sticking them out to you. You quickly took them from her, taking the top one. You shoved the other two into your back pocket, tearing open the envelope. You yanked the folded paper from the envelope, unfolding it as fast as possible. You skimmed over the words, trying to move your eyes along the lines faster than you could. 

‘Love -don’t care- I haven’t stopped thinking of you- wish you could come to see me-I need to see home- your bed- do you think of me-I’m not sure how much longer-I can’t add you to my visitation-I miss you.’ You paused, staring at his signature at the bottom. ‘Yours, Touya’ was simple but he didn’t talk of his feelings. Ever.

You were lucky if you found out he liked dinner. You traced over his name with the tip of your finger. You stopped, looking up at the woman in front of you. She was watching you intently like every move was being cataloged. You slowly straightened your shoulders up and pushed the letter back into the envelope like you didn’t care at all. You put the envelope with the other two in your pocket, pretending you weren’t itching to read the other two. You cleared your throat, staring at Fuyumi like a child caught misbehaving. 

“He tried to get your name on the visitation list but they wouldn’t allow it. You had to be family.” Fuyumi said, giving you a soft smile. You nodded, feeling Kaito’s finger painting on the fridge staring holes into the side of your face. 

“Might’ve been for the best. I don’t know I’m really the same person he…liked before.” You said, squeezing the door a little closer to you. Fuyumi shook her head. 

“I’m not sure if that’s true. He’s told our entire family about you. I don’t think the change would keep him from you. However, I don’t really know you, do I?” Fuyumi said, clasping her hands together in front of her. You nodded. It’s a bit weird knowing that she had a nephew a few blocks away and she didn’t even know if you and her brother were really dating at all. Well, you weren’t now but were you ever? You snorted and shrugged. 

“It’s a lot of change.” You said, watching her closely. She hummed, pulling her bag closer too pher. 

“Well I have to go, I have lunch with Shoto soon. Just, think of sending him back a letter. I think it would be good for him to hear from you.” Fuyumi said before walking away from your door and heading for the sidewalk. You watched her go for a moment, feeling stuck in your place. You felt like you were watching Touya walking away again. You sighed before going back inside to finish reading the letters. 

You read the letters over and over again for a month. You read them so much you didn’t need to see the paper to think through his words. You spent your free time staring at the handwriting. You dissected the word choice, punctuation, and tone. You need to know every thought that went through his head. Kaito asked you what they were, in the words and format of a 1 ½-year-old would. You redirected him to his toys and started reading them only at night when you were alone in your room. You sat up in bed most nights, staring at his clothes on the shelf of your closet and picking at your nails. 

You thought through your two options. 

You could break his heart and tell him you couldn’t be with him. You had changed, you were someone new. You couldn’t see a future. You moved on. You had a new partner, one that didn’t have their face on the news. Whatever it would take to get him to move on. He needed someone else, someone not like you. Someone without a kid. 

Your second option was to tell him. Everything. He had already been through what a year or so of medical operations? That’s what Fuyumi said, wasn’t it? Now he was stuck in rehab, they just gave him access to pencils. He was slowly rebuilding himself. He was obviously making progress in the right direction, communicating. That was a big word for Touya. It was over paper but still. He used the word love eight times in those letters. Kaito would have to get adjusted to his family growing up. Change is hard for young children. Change is hard for you. You‘d be forcing this responsibility onto Touya. He’d either support Kaito or not. Either way, he’d have that thought in the back of his mind. Touya was barely standing on his own two feet right now. Most likely figuratively and literally. You couldn’t add a new stressor to his life. He’d throw a table or something and get his pencil rights taken away again. 

You made the mature decision to break his heart instead. You wrote it out carefully and edited it. You made sure it came off the right way. You sealed the envelope and addressed it using the information from the back of his letters. Maybe it wasn’t something that would make you liked by any of the Todoroki family, but it was better for them. You knew it. You told him it was the change. You had changed too much. You listed all the ways you weren’t the person he thought you were anymore. Of course, you jumped over the child-sized elephant in the room. 

You couldn’t bear to think of him crying over your letter. You wondered if his tears were still bloody. Most likely, that didn’t seem like something that was healable. You ignored the ache in your heart, pulling your son closer to you in a tight hug. You couldn’t think of Touya stuck in a sterile rehabilitation center. You couldn’t think of him reading your letter more than once. You couldn’t think of Touya at all, so you focused on Kaito instead. 

You didn’t get a letter back. You didn’t get any of his siblings at your door. Instead, you took Kaito to daycare, worked, took Kaito home, and went to bed ready to repeat. You and Kaito went on little adventures on the weekends, going to the park, play dates, swimming lessons, zoos, and museums. You couldn’t love your son and life more.

He was getting bigger. He was developing his own personality now, such a sweet boy he gave you cavities. Kaito was so bright. He was the smartest kid you knew and you weren’t biased at all in saying that. He was so beautiful and tiny. You wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him in your pocket forever. Some days he would run through the living room like a plane and all you could remember was when he fit in the crook of your arm. He was so curious he asked you about the world every day. Some days he came home from daycare with a fun fact you never knew. 

The day he manifested his quirk was on the weekend in the backyard. You were on the back porch, watching him run back and forth through the oscillating sprinkler. You sipped your tea slowly, easing your anxiety about him slipping.

Kaito flung his hero doll through the water. It thunked in the grass, face first. Kaito yelled that he was coming to save the hero. He pressed his wrists together, jutting his hands out like a stream of power would rush through them. He jumped up, pushing his hands out again and giving himself a sound effect.

As he passed through the water you saw sparks and flames envelop his hands and fly straight to the ground toasting the ground next to his doll to ash. Kaito landed in the burnt grass, freezing and staring down at his hands. You jolted up onto your feet, setting your tea down and rushing towards him. 

Kaito slowly turned around towards you, a scared look on his face. You scooped him up, wrapping him in a hug. Kaito pressed his nose into your shoulder, holding onto your neck tightly. It’s a bit scary to see fire shoot out of your hands as a three-year-old. You stared at the ring of burnt grass, thinking back on the fire around his fingertips.

It wasn’t blue like his father’s, it was red like a campfire. A part of you was happy, he wouldn’t have to struggle to control a quirk as hot as his father’s. Another part of you was sad, you kinda liked the idea of your son growing up to be a hero and showing the world his blue flame was still hero material. Maybe Touya could find it out that way. You didn’t even know if Kaito wanted to be a hero. Maybe he’d do something simple. A third part was scared, fire is easily destructive. Kaito was new to it, he didn’t know how to control it. Your house could be in ashes in days. 

Touya would’ve been worried if he had been on the porch with you. Hellfire, like his father. Like the father he tried so hard to destroy and landed himself in the hospital and rehab. What made his father like that? A father like Enji fathering Enji? That’s how it works isn’t it, like passing sand from hands to hands, the trauma follows you in a terrible circle. 

Well, your son would have less sand, he’d love who he is. You pulled Kaito away from your neck, leaning your head back to get a full look at his face. His eyes were glistening and he was pressing his fist to his cheek. The image of him as a newborn in your arms passed over you. You wiped at the tears on his cheeks, kissing them afterward. 

“You got your quirk, Kaito. Isn’t that so exciting?” You said, smiling widely to settle his anxiety. Kaito pulled his hands from his face, looking at you confused. You bounced him on your hip and started spinning around, squealing about his quirk. You rested your hands on his back, dipping him down so he hung upside down just a little. You passed his head through the sprinkler, making him laugh loudly. You pulled him back up, dancing away from the sprinkler and the burnt grass. Kaito shook his wet white mop of hair out, drizzling you with water. 

Two and half years pass before Kaito starts school. He’s settled into the routine. He knows the time you give him breakfast, the time he gets dressed, the time he brushes his teeth, and the time you leave. Kaito would rather burn all his toys than be late for school. He’s made plenty of friends there. He’s already been invited to two birthday parties in the few months he’s been there. You wonder if daycare was that beneficial to him. 

Kaito walks his clean plate to the sink, standing on his tiptoes to gently set it in the bottom. You praise him before finishing your own. Kaito heads towards his room, ignoring your words entirely. Every morning he was on a mission to get to school at exactly the right time. Once he tried to get you to force him to go to school while he was sick. He whined about his perfect attendance before you told him he could watch TV. He dropped the subject after that. A knock sounds at your door. You look over your shoulder before concluding it was the mail. Sometimes they needed your signature. 

“Kaito, you better not forget your jacket! It's cold out!” You shouted so he could hear you through his door. You stared at his face peeking through his door as you swung open the front door. You pointed at him sternly, earning an eye roll. Damn you, Touya. You turned to face the mailman, face falling at the man in front of you. 

His hair had grown out and the dye had long been gone. Touya’s scars looked… healthier. Healed a little, paler and a little more moisturized. His staples were removed. You assumed they had been replaced with stitches that had healed over a million moons ago. Half his piercings were gone, a stud in his nose and two in each ear were all that he had left. Or at least was wearing today. His clothes were more put together, relaxed but not in the scrambled way they were a few years ago. Touya stood bolder now like he found something inside himself during rehab that made his chest puff out. His eyes were all the same. You thought if you ever saw him again, you'd only see Kaito in his eyes. You only saw Touya. 

“I finished rehab.” Touya finally said. Your silence stood in the air, like a confession of everything. You realized he could see into your home, slowly moving towards the door frame and holding the door tightly against you. Touya watched you with a look you'd only seen once before. In the middle of the night in your dimly lit living room, a movie in the background as the two of you kissed for the first time without sexual intent behind it. 

“Evidently. You look good by the way, rounded, healthy. Um, what exactly are you doing here, though?” You asked, leaning back inside to look at the clock. Three minutes before Kaito left his room. Five if he was having wardrobe malfunctions. You leaned forward again, pretending you weren't on a time crunch. 

“I know you sent me a letter. I know you said you didn't think I'd still care for you because you've changed so much but I think it's pretty obvious I've changed too. I just wanted to ask if you could give us a second shot we could try again as the new versions of ourselves. Every day I was in there I've been thinking about you. I haven't been able to-” You leaned back again, one minute, three with malfunctions. You put your attention back on Touya, nodding to signify him to continue. He paused, pulling his hand from his coat pocket. “-Am I interrupting something?” He asked. 

You froze, dragging your eyes away from the clock. You met Touya's eyes, staring at him with wide eyes. You weren't getting out of this, you wouldn't be able to. You sighed, pinching your brow. 

“No, I'm sorry Touya. It's very sweet and genuine of you to ask this but I really think there's just a big-” you waved your hands between the two of you. “-hurdle between us that we'd have to get through. I just think you should find someone else to love and cherish or whatever it is people say.” You threw your hands down, looking at his face again. He looked cold, he looked like the man who would show up at your door almost six years ago with blood staining his clothes. Touya shook his head, a new look meeting his features. He furrowed his brows. He stared at the step in front of him. 

“I just don't understand. I feel like this came out of nowhere before the letters, everything was fine, and then all of a sudden you were too different-” Touya said. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard Kaito’s door open. 

“Rena! Can you help me button my pants? The button is hard.” You could hear the pout in Kaito's voice. It reached Touya’s ears. You know it did. He froze, eyes glued to the ground. You didn’t bother trying to hide the wreck of a child’s home behind you anymore. The cat was out of the bag. You kicked the front door back, revealing all the toys and children’s books thrown across your living room. Kaito ran up to you, holding his pants up with both hands. You squatted down, pulling his pants together. As you slipped the button through the hole, Kaito greeted Touya. 

“Hi! I’m Kaito. Do you have a quirk?” Ever the extrovert, Kaito wanted to be friends with everyone he met. You zipped Kaito’s pants up. You turned back, pulling his sneakers from the shoe rack. You might as well while you’re already on the floor. You glanced up at Touya to see him staring open-mouthed at Kaito. Kaito was unaccustomed with this reaction, gripping onto your shoulder. 

“Touya. My son asked you a question.” You said, pulling Touya from the depths of his mind. Touya dropped down to his knees, getting on eye level with Kaito. You pulled Kaito’s sneakers on, tying the laces and pulling over the Velcro strap. Usually, he put his own shoes on but with the new friend, you thought you should do it. 

“Hi. My name is Touya. Yes, I do have a quirk.” Touya responded slowly. Kaito was his, there was no way Touya hadn't realized that. It wasn’t frequent that you ran into someone with those eyes, that hair, and that smile.

You looked at Touya as you pulled Kaito’s other shoe on. Touya moved his focus from Kaito to you. His mouth was still a little agape, staring at Kaito with eyes that only you could understand. Kaito squealed, he loved showing off his quirk. You pulled back, leaning away from him, watching his hands. A whoosh came with the balls of fire enveloping his hands. Sparks flew around the edges. He grinned down at his ablaze hands like a crazy person. You smiled at his excitement, looking over to Touya. He stared at Kaito’s hands, face unreadable. 

“Okay, Kaito. That’s enough. No quirk in the house, you know that.” You said, wafting his hands with air. It never put the flame out but it made Kaito laugh. He put his fire down, a few disgruntled sparks flying after. After an unfortunate incident involving your arm and his quirk, you both learned that Kaito needed a few minutes to cool off before he touched something again. The scar was still on your upper arm, a tiny handprint the size of a three-year-old. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought it would. It only reminded you of your son. 

“Hands up.” Kaito held his arms above his head as you pulled on his laces. You looked at Touya as you tied them. Touya leaned forward and held his hand up, all fingers down except for his pinkie. Almost like a pinkie promise. You and Kaito both stared at his hand as his pinkie caught aflame. It looked like a little blue birthday candle. Kaito’s eyes lit up like his hands, a giant grin pulling at his cherub cheeks.

”Woah! Do you have fire too? It’s blue! That’s so cool!” Kaito said, his little hand reaching out for Touya’s. Touya and you both moved faster than light. Touya shot his hand away, the fire extinguishing, and his arm held far away from curious hands. You pushed Kaito’s hand away, sending it back to his side. Kaito looked confused, facing you. 

“His fire is very very hot, Kaito. It’ll hurt if you touch it.” You explained, pulling the Velcro strap of his shoe over the top of his foot. Kaito hummed, fiddling with his hands over his stomach. You stood up, Touya following. Kaito looked over your shoulder at the clock and then down at the graph you had under it with a picture of the hands and what step in your routine it meant. Kaito gasped, rushing away from you for his bedroom. You smiled awkwardly towards Touya. 

“Is he mine?” Touya whispered, his tone unsure if he was ready for the answer. You watched Kaito pull his jacket on before slinging his backpack on. His coat was just a little too big for him. It kissed the tips of his knees and every time you saw it you thought of Touya and his jacket hanging on your coat rack. 

“Yeah, he's yours.” you wanted it to come out with strong conviction.

‘Yes, Touya he's yours what are you going to do about it.’

‘No Touya he's mine but he's genetically related to you, yes.’

‘What do you want from this information, Touya'?

‘Get off my property Touya. Kaito isn't your problem’

All those months you spent planning how you'd beat him to pulp when you finally saw him again fell apart the second you looked into his eyes. Maybe that was Kaito's effect on you or maybe it was just the effect Touya always had on you. 

Touya nodded like he was accepting his fate, watching Kaito run up to you with your shoes. Usually, you didn't have your baby daddy standing on your front porch and you could get your own shoes. You pulled your shoes on quickly, keeping an eye on Kaito as he ran out the door towards the car. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Touya asked, following after you as you locked your door and joined Kaito at the side of the car. 

“Not right now, I have to get Kaito to school so he can keep his perfect attendance.” You said, reaching over to pinch Kaito's cheek. He groaned and pushed you away, throwing his backpack into the backseat. Kaito pulled himself into his booster seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him, pecking his cheek and muttering praises to him.

Touya stood behind you, watching the whole ordeal and wishing he hadn't lost the first five years of his son's life. He didn't get to watch Kaito grow from a carrier that locked into the base to a car seat with a back to a booster seat. He didn't even know Kaito's favorite color. He didn't know anything about him. So with all that stirring in his mind, he whispered the one full sentence he could piece together. 

“Can I come too?” You pulled away from Kaito, looking back at Touya. He looked scolded. His shoulders were slumped and he was clasping his hands together at his stomach. He stared at you with wide eyes. You remembered when you grounded Kaito for trying to sneak out of the house at night. He wanted to go to the park, you had to explain that the park was something you visited during the day. He was sad at being grounded. 

“Yes! Rena, can he come? He can tell me at his fire! And his scars, they're so cool!” Kaito kicked his feet, thumping them against the back of the passenger seat. Your heart stalled at the mention of Touya's scars. 

“Kaito. Don't say-” you scolded only to pause when a warm hand rested on your shoulder. You had forgotten how warm Touya was. You missed not needing to pull your space heater from storage. You stared at Touya, eyes wild with concern. He shook his head, lips pressed in a tight line. 

“It's fine.” He muttered. You looked back over to Kaito who looked more than joyous to bring his new friend to school. You sighed, shrugging and moving for the front seat. 

“Get in.” You said, sliding into the driver's side. Touya quickly shut Kaito's door and slid in on the other side of the back seat. 

The entire drive you felt strange. You didn't like having your back to their interaction. A part of you worried Touya was teaching Kaito how to roll a blunt. Or maybe how to set your fire in your sleep. Maybe he was still bitter from the letter and all this was an act. 

The moment Kaito laughed so hard he started wheezing you took back all the negative thoughts you had about Touya. Kaito leaned over into Touya's lap, patting his leg as he wheezed. Touya chuckled with him, a relaxed smile on his face. He gently patted Kaito's back, turning his pat into a rub. Kaito sucked in a gasp of air before it quickly danced behind his teeth and transformed into another laugh. Touya panicked, a new worry that he was doing this all wrong, already turning into his father. His eyes shot to yours in the rearview mirror. You didn't catch them, focused on the road. He saw your smile and small laugh and felt his shoulders relax. 

Kaito had a hard time saying goodbye to his new friend in the school parking lot. Kaito complained and quickly latched onto Touya's arm, pressing his cheek into his scarred flesh. Touya patted his mop of white hair and wished him a good day. Kaito seemed to accept that, launching himself into the front seat to hug you goodbye with his arms around your neck. Kaito glanced over at the clock on the screen in the center of the dashboard. He muttered something and rushed out of the car, jogging towards the crosswalk. You and Touya watched as he was walked to the door by one of his teachers. 

You both sat in silence and stare at the door even after Kaito is long gone. Touya left the back seat and plopped himself into the passenger side next to you. You wanted to pull yourself out of your head and face him, but your eyes were glued to the door. 

It's been a long time since he was a baby. The first few months were hell on Earth. Everything sent you into an anxious spiral, his breaths were one second too long apart. You worried he was getting too much tummy time. You worried he wasn't getting enough tummy time. You worried about his diet. You worried about the sound of his cries. You worried about his number of cries. You worried about the cradle cap. You worried about SIDs. You worried sick over your son. 

To make matters worse, you worried sick over his father. The first year and then some you wracked your brain thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing? How was he feeling? What state was his body in? Could he still feel? What was he feeling about you? Had he already moved on, found a cute doctor, or something? Was he too far gone and close to death that he didn't even have the time to consider things like that? Why hadn't he said something to you yet? Would he even like you still? Would he even like your son? Would he even want to know if he has a son or would ignorance be bliss for him?

By the time you had finally settled your anxieties over your son's father, Kaito taking up all your capacity for worries, his letter arrived at your door.

You stared at the door to his school, the brightly painted sidewalk making you feel warm. Touya was next to you now, staring at the same school. You knew where he was, what he looked like, the state of his body, his thoughts on you, and what he was doing. You could hear his breathing in your silent car. You knew it all and yet, you still worried for him. You wanted him to touch you again. His hand on your shoulder sparked something that went dormant after five years. 

“He is so…” Touya's voice fell like he wasn't sure the word to choose. You knew how the man from five years ago would respond. 

Annoying. 

Gross. 

Snotty. 

Clingy. 

Sticky. 

Have you had him tested yet? for anything because that child is just- 

“beautiful.” Touya finished. You felt the air in your car slip out the window. You dragged your eyes from the school door, looking at him. He wasn't looking at you, staring at the school. You furrowed your eyebrows. That word you had not expected at all. You thought you'd have to drive Touya home in silence and fully cut contact this time. 

“What?” you said, staring at the side of his face. Touya looked at you, finally meeting your eyes. Your shoulders sank. He unfortunately always had this affect on you. 

“Your son is so beautiful. He’s just like you. I look at him and all I see is you. Kaito is just…” His eyes traveled back to the door Kaito had disappeared through. You wouldn't see him again for a good six hours. 

“I can't explain it but he's just so perfect. I just don't understand how such a sweet person could have anything to do with me. Which is how I felt about you all those years ago. He is a carbon copy of you, you know that?” Touya said, a small smile playing on his lips. He sighed and stared at you, watching your face. 

“He is beautiful.” You paused, keeping your eyes on Touya. You stared at Kaito some nights when he was asleep in your bed from a nightmare and only saw a chubbier and less scarred version of Touya's face staring at you. 

“He looks like you,” you muttered, starting your car again. Touya sat back in the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt down.

“I have photo albums at home. Would you like to see?” you asked as you pulled out the school driveway back towards your home. Touya rubbed at his face. He quickly nodded. 

“Yes, I would,” Touya whispered, looking out the window. 

part two

[nerdlvr]

ok but who in dream would be into big boobs cause like I feel like some of them would but I need you to tell me too!!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

i think all men would die for big boobs HOWEVER! there's a ranking..

renjun ,, don't hate me... but ik damn well jun is a titty feen. he loves to grope and suck on your tits 24/7 and will beg you to let him titty fuck you... it's lowkey a mommy kink thing for him hehehe

mark ,, i'm pushing the pervert mark agenda IDC OK! he's the type of mf to watch hentai and shit and try to laugh it off when he gets cuaght which leads me to -> his infatuation with big juicy jugs is borederline and addiction,, will nut just watching you play with your tits

haechan ,, my boy loves some big ol' titties what can i say. he's a messy lover so being able to grab your tits, bite, and suck on that extra meat drives him insane (also part of the titty fucking committee)

jeno ,, my man loves some meat on his girls. say what you want but my big boy needs the WHOLE PACKAGE. he doesn't have a preference for ass or tits, but when his girl has either it drives him insane. automatically will develop a tit play kink if you have big boobs and can't stop thinking about marking you up in every way possible to show you that they're his.

jisung ,, pervert #2. 23 year old with a repressed libido, yeah he has his fair share of porn time (aka goon central). he doesn't have a preference much like jeno (as long as he can fuck) but he can't help but ogle if the girl has huge tits, he will think of them bouncing, jiggling, squeezing them in his face. will jokingly ask to motorboat you but it actually gets him off.

jaemin ,, another one that has no preference but still, by nature, loves tits. he doesn't love your tits cause they're huge, he loves them cause they're part of you. will never forget to worship your breasts and let you know how much he loves them. (secretly super into titty sucking but gets embarrassed to ask).

chenle ,, i feel like chenle's a man that works with what he's got. it's not like he prefers large or small breasts, he just loves tits period. feel like chenle is the type to love ur tits outside of sexual context and will beg you to let his hold up tit in his mouth while he falls asleep or watched tv. if it's a functional boob that's enough for him.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”