#Minnie asks

[wonwoosthetic]

Hii, no rush or anything but I was just curious to know when we can sort of expect the next minnie fic?

Give me a few more hours and you’ll get to read it later when I post it today! I‘m just finishing up writing EP1-4. ˙ᵕ˙ it takes just a little longer to write stuff like this because I always have to watch a scene, pause it, write it, watch the next, pause it, write it, and repeat😅😊

In the meantime, look at these pictures from the past few days that made my moots and I on Twitter go absolutely feral:

And my absolute favourite:

LOOK AT HIS LIPS

EVERYBODY LOOK AWAY, HE’S MINE😭😭😭

[goatlilly]

What's Adrien doing in the Minnie Miraculous Au? If Marinette is wielding the turtle Miraculous and being the default babysitter, and Gabriel still being Hawkmoth (I think), is Adrien fighting on his dad's side? Or is he sent in as backup to help Turtle! Marinette when the kids get too rowdy? Marinette has experience being a babysitter, but even SHE needs help, and Adrien has proven canonically to be good with kids. And if so, what miraculous would he have? The tiger to be the offense to Marinette's defense as well as being an "older cat hero" for Chris to look up to? The dragon for similar reasons along the line of offense? The snake to help guide and watch over the kids?

well…

Meet Sub-Terrain! Funnily enough, I was working on this concept before I got this ask, so here you go—Substitute Baby Sitter—I mean Turtle Miraculous holder for when Marinette is out of commission. (Sick, traveling, over-stressed and done with everything, etc.) He’s not bad, but, well, he isn’t always the most responsible “adult.” You know those Substitute teachers you had in high school who basically just let you have a party during class after about five minutes of lesson time? He’s kind of like that substitute teacher. So long as they get done what’s on the agenda (aka beating the akuma,) he’s pretty much cool with the kids doing whatever. It gives Marinette a migraine, sometimes, but he’s so good with the kids that she never stops begging him to take over as the Turtle full time. Also, he definitely encourages the kids to misbehave with their powers, jut a teeny bit.

And yes, Adrienette is a thing here.

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[itsriotmotherfuckers]

Sirius caused the longest hat stall in Hogwarts history when he was sorted, by the way

[plumbus-central]

bed head rick

insp:

[smutmind]

I'd really love to see more minnie and shuhua for when it doesnt fit, if you'd be so kind of course.

Thank you very much!!!!!

When it Doesn't Fit ft. Minnie (ANOTHER FLUFF)

I don't know why Minnie fits these fluffy ideas. HAHA

The bell above the café door chimed at exactly 7:02 a.m., just like it did every weekday.

Minnie glanced up from behind the espresso machine, already smiling. She recognized the stride before the man even reached the counter—sharp, measured, always in sync with the ticking wall clock. Marcus. Dark coat, darker expression. A tall drink of don’t-talk-to-me.

“Morning,” she chirped, slipping a fresh post-it onto the side of a to-go cup. The ink was still drying.

Marcus eyed the cup like it had personally offended him. The sticky note read: "Even strong coffee envies your focus."

His jaw ticked. He took the cup without a word. No tip, no smile. Just the same quiet nod and a turn on his heel.

Minnie’s lips pursed as she watched him disappear into the rain-slicked street. “Someone’s allergic to serotonin,” she muttered, half to the steamer wand.

Over the next week, the post-its got bolder. "Your suit called. It wants a day off." "You look like you wrestled stress—and won." "Smile. No one’s watching. Except me."

Marcus never said anything. But he never stopped coming, either.

It was Thursday night when the weather turned. Wind pressed wet leaves against the glass. The café lights glowed honey-gold in the gloom. It was Minnie’s closing shift—slow, quiet. She was wiping down tables when the door creaked open.

He was soaked.

“Didn’t expect you this late,” she said, tugging her oversized cardigan tighter. “The coffee machine’s still hot, if you want.”

Marcus nodded once, brushing water off his coat. “Black. Usual.”

She fixed it, fast. No post-it this time—just a curious glance as she handed him the cup. He didn’t leave. Instead, he leaned against the counter, his fingers curled tight around the paper warmth.

“You never smile,” she said softly.

He looked at her. Really looked. “I don’t have time to smile.”

She blinked. “Why not?”

“I’m working to prove something.” He paused. Rain lashed harder against the windows. “That I belong where I am. That I’m not just some lucky hire. That I’m better.”

Minnie studied him. His stiff posture. The faint crease between his brows. She wanted to smooth it with her thumb. “That’s a lot to carry,” she murmured. “No wonder your shoulders are always tense.”

The lights flickered once.

She jumped. “Ugh, I hate power outages. Please don’t let it go out.”

“You afraid of the dark?”

“Only when it’s storming and I’m alone in here.” She tugged the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. “Don’t suppose you’d… stay?”

Marcus hesitated. The rain thundered like a hundred tiny fists against the glass.

“I can’t leave anyway,” he said finally, glancing at the flooded sidewalk. “Storm’s too heavy.”

“Then it’s settled.” She padded to the back room and returned with a spare blanket and a couple of overstuffed floor cushions. “Welcome to your first café sleepover.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this standard protocol?”

“No. But I figure if I’m stuck here, I’d rather not be scared and alone.”

Marcus sat, stiff at first. Then a little less. They sipped lukewarm coffee and listened to the storm. She talked. He listened. And somewhere between lightning strikes, the silence between them softened.

Rain threaded like silver needles across the café windows, blurring the world outside.

Minnie curled her legs beneath her on the cushion, clutching her lukewarm mug. The space felt smaller now. Not because it was tight, but because Marcus stayed. Still. Present.

She’d never seen him still.

“So,” she said, voice lilting, “what’s the deal, Marcus? You’re always suited up. Always tense. What do you actually do when you’re not glowering at espresso?”

He looked sideways at her, lips twitching faintly. “Real estate. Commercial, mostly. Downtown properties. Warehouses, corporate spaces.”

“Figures.” Minnie smirked. “You’ve got the energy of a man who sells buildings like chess pieces.”

He gave a soft, tired huff. “It’s more paperwork than people. Lots of big egos in small rooms.”

“You ever like it?” she asked, chin resting on her knee.

“I like being good at it.”

The rain thickened. She could feel the air growing damp, cold curling around her toes.

“What about love?” she asked softly, without teasing this time. “You ever like that?”

The shift in him was instant. His shoulders locked. The silence that followed felt like something sharp, stretched between them.

“I don’t mix well with...that,” he said flatly. “Too many expectations. Too many cracks to fall through.”

Minnie blinked, her smile dimming. “Sorry. That was—too personal.”

He exhaled, slow and hard. “No. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you.” His voice softened. “It’s just… hard to explain things that didn’t end well.”

A heavy pause hung between them. Neither knew what to do with the sudden chill in the air.

Minnie rubbed her arms, shivering a little. “This place gets freezing after nine. Never noticed it until I wasn’t moving.”

Marcus glanced at her, then at her thin cardigan. His jaw worked, conflicted. “Do you want...?”

She hesitated, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah. If you’re okay with it. Just a little warmth wouldn’t hurt.”

He shifted closer, slow and careful. His arm draped over her shoulders—awkward at first, then less so when she leaned in instinctively. His body radiated heat like a furnace.

They said nothing. The thunder softened. Her head rested gently against his chest.

And for the first time since either could remember, the quiet didn’t feel empty.

The wind howled like it had bones to rattle.

Marcus’s arm around her helped, but Minnie was still shivering. Her knees knocked gently against his thigh.

“You’re cold,” he said quietly.

“I’ll live,” she muttered, teeth nearly chattering.

He gave her a look. Then stood, pulled off his tailored coat, and held it open. “Come on.”

She hesitated. “That’s like... a thousand-dollar coat.”

“Only eight-fifty.”

She squinted up at him. “You’re really gonna argue luxury while I’m about to freeze to death?”

He sighed and moved to wrap it around her himself, muttering something about stubborn baristas. But as he pulled it over her shoulders and adjusted the lapel, his hand slipped—just slightly—brushing the soft curve of her chest.

She yelped.

He froze, hand mid-air. “Shit—I didn’t—oh my God—I’m not—”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, did you just—?”

“I was adjusting the—coat,” Marcus stammered, face already flaming. “I didn’t know you weren’t wearing—uh—something more.”

She looked down, then up again, biting her lip. “It’s just nipple patches. I hate bras on night shift.”

He blinked, hard. “That’s—information I didn’t expect to have at this hour.”

A long beat. She held the coat closed with a grin curling at her lips. “Marcus,” she said sweetly, “you’re sweating.”

He wiped his palms on his slacks. “I’m just trying to not get arrested.”

She tilted her head. Her voice dipped lower. “What if I want you to act like a pervert around me?”

He stared at her, genuinely stunned.

Minnie didn’t flinch—just smiled, a slow, dangerous thing.

Marcus swallowed, visibly. “That’s... not helping.”

She laughed, warm and full, curling into the coat like it was her armor and his doom.

“I’m teasing,” she said, finally. “Kind of.”

Marcus wasn’t breathing.

Outside, the storm began to lighten, but inside the café, tension flickered—half humor, half heat—across every inch of shared space.

Minnie blinked up at the ceiling. “Well, look who decided to rejoin society.”

Marcus stood, brushing off his slacks. “Lights are back. Rain’s dying down. Guess we’re free to return to capitalism.”

She stretched, the borrowed coat still draped around her like a cape. “We should close up, then. You sure you want to help? Wouldn’t want to steal you from your very serious, life-saving spreadsheets.”

He grabbed the mop leaning against the counter. “I’m just making sure you don’t frame me for anything.”

She arched a brow. “Frame you?”

“I was alone with a woman, in the dark, after hours. I touched something I wasn’t supposed to. That’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Minnie cackled, nearly dropping a stack of chairs. “Touched something? You brushed my boob like a panicked librarian reaching for a banned book.”

He paused, jaw twitching. “That is... uncomfortably accurate.”

They finished in record time—laughing, bumping elbows, trading glances that lingered a little longer each time.

By the time they stepped outside, the rain had softened to a mist. Marcus offered his umbrella, holding it just high enough to cover both their heads.

The sidewalk gleamed wet under streetlights, and their steps fell into an easy rhythm.

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” Minnie said softly, the city quiet around them.

“I’m still just trying to keep myself out of prison,” he replied, deadpan. “Imagine the courtroom sketch: barista claims emotional damage after unsolicited warmth.”

She bumped his arm. “You’re not nearly as scary when you make jokes.”

“Don’t tell my clients,” he said. “They pay extra for the scowl.”

They stopped at her building. The entry light buzzed faintly, illuminating the curve of her cheek as she turned to face him.

Minnie stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek—just warm enough to make him forget what words were.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “For staying. For not being... well, who I thought you were.”

Marcus blinked. “Who’d you think I was?”

“A suit with legs and no soul.”

His laugh came out surprised, almost boyish. “Ouch.”

She smiled. “You proved me wrong. A little.”

He cleared his throat, unsure what to do with his hands. “Guess I’ll see you at 7:02 tomorrow?”

“I might start opening at 7:01,” she teased.

“Rebel,” he said, eyes crinkling.

She slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind her—leaving Marcus outside, still warm from her kiss, still smiling like an idiot under his umbrella.

The bell above the café door stayed quiet.

Minnie checked the wall clock. 7:01. Then 7:03. Then 7:07.

The cup with the next post-it stayed untouched on the counter. "You made silence louder than coffee. That’s a skill."

She sighed and peeled it off. Stuck it to her apron instead.

Marcus didn’t come that day.

Nor the next.

By Thursday, she’d stopped prepping his order. The cups felt lighter somehow. The café too bright. Too yellow. Like a stage light waiting for the actor who missed their cue.

“Miss your boyfriend?” her coworker Teela asked, elbow-deep in croissants.

Minnie blinked. “He’s not—he’s just a customer.”

“Uh-huh. Who you let spend the night in your shop, gave your blanket, and kissed.”

“It was on the cheek.”

“That’s a gateway cheek.”

Minnie smiled faintly but didn’t argue. Instead, she stared out the rain-speckled window, her breath fogging the glass.

She didn’t know his number. Didn’t know where he lived. Didn’t even know his middle name. But every morning, 7:02 came and went without Marcus. And that… hurt more than she’d expected.

The weird part? It wasn’t just missing his face or the way he stood like his suit was military-issued. It was missing the version of herself that came alive around him—sharper, braver, louder.

And now, the mornings just… felt beige.

She wiped the counter one extra time and tucked the latest post-it in her pocket.

Just in case he ever came back for it.

The rain came down like a verdict.

Minnie locked the front door early, her nerves coiled tight as the sky growled. Thunder rolled deep and mean, rattling the glass. The café lights flickered—again.

“Not tonight,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to the cool glass. “Please not again.”

The storm had a way of peeling her open—too many memories, too much silence, too much dark.

She gathered the cushions from the back, her cardigan already wrapped twice around her. The idea of another night alone in the dim cafe made her chest feel tight.

Then the bell rang.

The door—still unlocked from her forgetful hands—squeaked open, and there he was.

Dripping, coat clinging, hair damp against his forehead.

Marcus.

Minnie froze mid-step, heart thudding like it wanted out.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her like he wasn’t sure she was real.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” he said softly.

Her voice caught. “You—you disappeared.”

“I got pulled into a deal. Huge project. Took everything.” He stepped in, the storm closing behind him. “I worked from home. Couldn’t break the rhythm. But tonight… I remembered the rain. The power. You in my coat.”

Minnie blinked, heat rushing to her face. “So you came back?”

He nodded. “I needed to know if the café still glowed like I remembered. If you were still here.”

Her breath hitched. She smoothed her sleeves down her arms to hide the tremble. “And?”

“It’s brighter now,” he said. “Because you didn’t forget me.”

Minnie exhaled a shaky laugh. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

Another rumble of thunder.

She glanced at the windows, then at him. “I still hate storms,” she whispered.

Marcus stepped closer, close enough to smell rain and cologne. “Do you want me to stay?”

She looked up, eyes wide, vulnerable. “Only if you can keep me warm.”

A smile ghosted across his face. Not the smug one. The soft, slow kind—the one he didn’t know how to wear until her.

He reached for her gently this time, fingers brushing the hem of her sleeve before pulling her in, coat and all.

The storm outside was still angry. But inside, she found warmth in the quiet rise and fall of his breath.

This time, she wasn’t alone.

The backroom door clicked shut behind them, and the storm outside vanished into a muffled pulse.

Marcus turned to face her. Minnie stood barefoot on the worn tile, cardigan falling off one shoulder, cheeks warm and eyes dark.

“You sure?” he asked, voice low, edged with restraint.

She smiled, slow and wicked. “I’ve had a month to think about it.”

With one fluid motion, she peeled off the cardigan and pulled up her shirt—revealing two circular nude patches barely covering her nipples. “You left me cold, Marcus,” she whispered. “You owe me warmth.”

He stepped closer. “Yeah?”

“Start here,” she said, pointing at her left breast, “and use your mouth.”

He didn’t ask twice.

His tongue hooked beneath the patch, teasing her skin as he peeled it off, slow enough to make her gasp. The other followed, sucked between his lips until her knees trembled.

Minnie laughed breathlessly, gripping his shoulders to stay grounded. “You’ve got a mouth built for sin, agent man.”

“Show me yours,” he murmured, fingers brushing her waistband.

She stepped back, tugged down her pants—and let her cock spring free, thick, flushed, already twitching with anticipation. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft and stroked once, her eyes locked to his. “I get so wet watching men like you grind themselves into the ground.”

Marcus exhaled sharply. “Busy bees turn you on?”

“Stupidly hard,” she grinned. “Something about men who forget they have bodies until someone reminds them.”

He cupped her jaw. “Then prove it. With your tongue.”

She dropped to her knees like she was born for it, licking up the length of him before taking him deep, slow, deliberate. Marcus’s head hit the wall. One hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter for dear life.

“Minnie—fuck—”

She hummed around him, lips slick and wet, the rhythm torturously steady. When she pulled off, saliva stringing between her mouth and his tip, his legs nearly gave.

“I want you inside me,” she said, voice husky, climbing onto his lap.

He was already thick and ready. She guided him to her entrance and sank down, inch by glorious inch, her mouth parting in a moan.

They didn’t move at first—just held each other, eyes locked, breath shared.

Then she started to roll her hips.

Slow. Deep. Fucking luxurious.

“God,” he groaned. “You feel—unreal.”

Her grin was all teeth. “And I haven’t even started yet.”

Minnie braced herself against his chest, her thighs trembling as she sank another inch onto him.

“God,” she panted, forehead pressed to his. “You’re so fucking big—I can’t… I can’t take all of you.”

Marcus groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping her hips. “Yes you can,” he murmured. “You’ve got it in you. Let me help.”

He shifted beneath her, tilting just right, guiding her hips until she slid deeper. Minnie gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

Her voice cracked on a moan. “Holy shit, Marcus.”

He kissed her—rough and wet, stealing the air from her lungs. Then he pulled back and whispered, “Suck my tongue.”

She did—mouth open, tongue curling around his, riding him slow and deep as the kiss turned filthy. Each bounce stretched her wide and full. His cock rubbed her just right, grinding up into her until she was cursing against his mouth.

“I missed this,” he growled, lips brushing her jaw. “Missed your mouth. Your sounds. The way you move.”

“You didn’t even text,” she teased breathlessly. “Just vanished like some kind of overworked ghost.”

“Maybe I needed another storm to wake me up.”

She laughed, bouncing harder now, sweat dotting her temple. “You’re lucky I’m weak for workaholics with stupid pretty mouths.”

He grabbed her ass, thrusting up to meet her strokes. “And you’re lucky I’m a man who respects a woman who knows how to ruin my sanity.”

Their bodies clapped in rhythm. Wet, messy, perfect.

Minnie cried out as she came, her cock twitching between them. The pleasure rolled through her like thunder, hot and deep and shaking. She sagged against him, gasping into his neck.

Marcus wasn’t far behind.

“Where?” he asked, voice strained, desperate.

She looked up, eyes burning with mischief. “I want it like my favorite order.”

He blinked. “What?”

She grinned. “Hot. Strong. And in my mouth.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pulling out fast.

She dropped to her knees again with a practiced hunger, lips parted and waiting as he stroked himself, groaning hard—

—and spilled across her tongue in thick, salty bursts, his name half a gasp in her throat.

Minnie swallowed, then licked her lips. “Mmm. Better than espresso.”

He collapsed back against the wall, chest heaving.

“Rainy nights really are your thing,” she added with a wink.

He reached down, cupped her jaw, and laughed.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Maybe,” she said, rising up to kiss him, “but you’ll die warm.”

---

Sunlight bled through the café windows, golden and unmerciful.

Minnie stirred first—blanket tangled, skin warm against Marcus’s chest, limbs still draped over him like he was furniture. Her back ached. Her thighs... ached more.

She blinked up at the ceiling, then to the clock.

“Oh no,” she whispered, slapping his chest. “Marcus. Wake up. We’re so screwed.”

He groaned. “You said I could die warm, not early.”

“It’s eight-forty-seven. I was supposed to open at seven-thirty.”

As if on cue, a knock rattled the backroom door. “Minnie?” came her boss’s voice, laced with suspicion and half-amusement. “You alive back there?”

Minnie froze. Marcus sat up fast enough to nearly knock over a box of stirrers. “Shit. Shitshitshit.”

They scrambled. She pulled her pants on inside-out. He yanked on his wrinkled dress shirt and tried to fix his tie, only to realize it was Minnie’s. She tossed it back with a snort.

“We’re walking out there like adults,” she whispered.

“We just had backroom sex loud enough to steam the espresso machine.”

“Then we’re walking out there like actors.”

She paused, snatched two sticky notes off the counter, and stuck one across her forehead, the other across his.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Costume drama. Just roll with it.”

The door creaked open.

The owner, a petite woman with an immaculate apron and a dry sense of humor, stood with one eyebrow raised.

Minnie walked out first—barefoot, hair wild, post-it on her forehead that read: "I regret nothing."

Marcus followed, post-it on his chest: "Just here for coffee (and poor decisions)."

The owner clapped once. “Well. I was wondering when this would happen.”

Minnie blinked. “Wait—what?”

“You’ve been leaving those thirsty post-its for months, sweetheart. You think I can’t read?”

Marcus flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not fired, am I?”

“You don’t even work here.”

“Still. Good to know.”

She waved them toward the counter. “You’re lucky the regulars haven’t arrived yet. Fix yourselves. Then fix some coffee.”

Minnie turned to Marcus as they moved behind the counter, faces red, grins helpless.

“That was the worst walk of shame in history,” she said.

“Best I’ve ever had,” he replied.

They bumped hips. Made two coffees. Shared one kiss over steaming mugs and silent promises.

Sometimes, love didn’t arrive with fireworks or fanfare.

Sometimes, it walked in late, soaked in rain, wearing a frown.

And sometimes, it left a post-it that said everything without needing to explain a thing.

[ysrjune]

Wait okay okay so put this one above my Scott request

Giving Stephen a really super nasty blowjob and he cries yeah

KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT ℘

Lately, you've been getting off of work late at night, and Stephen was picking you up. You told him he didn't have to, but he always insisted because he loves you so much and doesn't want you to fall asleep on the drive back if you're behind the wheel. No, it was fine that he had to wake up in the middle of the night to pick you up. More than fine. He knew you needed the rest after such a long shift.

So here he is, inside the car at the empty parking lot, waiting for you to come out. He was still very tired, and he came 20 minutes early just so he could rest in the car for a while. He set the seat backward so he could lay down. 20 minutes went by in a flash. You knock on the passenger window, and his finger travels to the unlock button without even glancing to see who it is. It's not a smart idea, but he recognizes those knocks.

“Steve, I told you I could just drive myself.” You sigh, getting into the car and watching how his chest peacefully rises. “No.. you're tired. Im fine.” He groans and stretches. “I just got here a little early, and I left my phone at the house. So.. there wasn't anything else to do.” He removes his glasses to rub his eyes. “Just, um, give me a few minutes to wake up.” He puts his glasses back on and stares at the car ceiling.

“I know what'll wake you up.” You say mischievously with a small smile. “What?” He asks calmly but shudders and gasps as soon as he feels your finger unbuttoning his pj pants. “Babe!” His gaze quickly fixated on your eyes with a nervous look in his. “R-right now? We're outside!” His tongue darts out to moisturize his lips. “We're the only ones here, just relax.” Stephen groans in complaint but makes no move to stop you. “Come on. That alone woke me up. Let's just go, yeah?” He's really nervous about being caught. Stephen attempts to sit up from the seat to readjust it to normal, but you press his chest down for him to lay again.

“Honey, please? Please dont do this right now. This is.. embarrassing.” Stephens cheek flush pink, and his eyes dart around the parking lot. Yes, there was no one around, but what if the other two people you were working with come out any second?!

He kept worrying until your soft hand pulled his length out of the hole of the pj's. Stephen watches, biting down on his lip. He was quiet now. No more complaints. “Stevie, you're hard.” You say softly. “Mm-well.. yeah..” He looks away. Slowly, you start to stroke him, and his head falls back against the headrest. “Shit. You're a pervert.” He mumbles. “Couldn't just wait until we got home or anything. We would have been there by now.”

“Im sorry, babe. I just couldn't stop thinking about you today.” Stephen exhales through his nose and swallows a chunk of saliva. “Oh God. You know you can't talk to me that way.” He says in a breathless whisper. “No, really.” You move your hand faster. “I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you when I saw you. I was so wet in the office today that I couldn't help myself.” He knew what you meant by that, and it made him even hornier. “Can you do that thing you do..” He moans.

Stephen's pants were now pulled down to his thighs. No boxers. He doesn't like to wear them when he wears the pj pants. It's easy access in case he needs to go to the bathroom. The car was filled with his and your moans. The glass was fogged up. He has his hand tangled in your hair. “I dont wanna!” He whines. He's been dragging this blowjob on for at least 10 minutes. He doesn't want to cum yet. He feels like he should last way longer than that since you were thinking of this all day.

But the way you choked on him as you made eye contact and spit dribbling at your chin was making it hard for him to continue holding back. Your tongue wrapping around the sensitive tip. He also liked feeling a little bit of your teeth. It was unusual, but right now, it was amazing. “Nggh..” He whimpers. “I wanna cum on your face. Can I, please?”

You continue sucking—choking, until he moans out that he was about to cum. You release his cock, and he whines at the loss of your warm, gummy throat until you start to stroke him again. Within seconds, he comes undone on your face with a shudder and soft moan. He sits up on an elbow and pants softly while staring down at your face. “Jesus.” He whispers and collects a finger pad full of his cum and jams it into your mouth. Then he inserts another finger, making you bob your head on them. “.. We couldve been home. Comfortable in the bed.”

You roll your eyes and release his fingers. “If we were at home, I would go right to sleep instead.” Stephen sighs and digs for a napkin in the storage compartment. As soon as he found one, he wiped your face with a small smile. “Maybe I can help you stay up a little longer when we get home.” Stephen always likes to return the favor as soon as possible. He never allows you to help him get off without letting him do the same after.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaas-xo @anakinca @dollfilmz @gothams-sweetheart @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne @chanelluvstvd @hearts4sammonroe @fratbrochrisgf

[skullsemi]

you think mortimer and gladstone have gotten into any serious arguments or do they just brush it off

We are talking about the most dramatic characters out there so certainly it happened at some point

And yes, the consequences of it will absolutely affect everyone

[ourdadai]

୨୧ minnie ( g idle ) lockscreens.

[mobius-m-mobius]

You were joking. People joke about the horrible things that they don't do, they don't do them. It's absurd.

GROSSE POINTE BLANK (1997) | dir. George Armitage

[musette22]

Loving all this discussion on the perfection that is catws and stucky. I'm gonna add to it:

Every now and then I have to sit for a minute and process the fact that 'Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky' is an actual canon line that Steve spoke out loud in the movie. It's such a fanfic line and it actually happened.

And it came from Steve. Steve, the guy who doesn't bleed on people, who holds his cards close to his chest, who prefers dry sarcasm over talking about feelings. Steve chose, without prompting to say this. And it kills me because it would've been so easy for him to say something like 'He was my best friend' or 'they did that to my best friend' or something like that, but no. 'Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky' is such a simple statement but it tells us so much about what Bucky means to Steve and how much the reveal is killing him. It's such a raw, honest line that makes my chest hurt every time.

(Also I have to appreciate Sam in this scene. Poor Natasha is bleeding out - from a bullet Bucky gave her no less - to the point where she's fighting to stay conscious - and still manages to try and give comfort to Steve - and Sam is the one who takes note of the situation and tries to get her help. Steve is over there thinking about the love of his life and not caring what's happening to them)

Even when he had nothing, he had Bucky 😭😭😭😭😭 WIIIILLDDD. You're 100% right, it is absolutely insane that this is an actual line from the movie.

I think in that moment, Steve is just so completely in shock that he just says that, without any filter whatsoever. The words come right from his heart, just pure, raw emotion, because he just learned the love of his life isn't dead after all, but maybe what happened to him was worse, but also he's alive, but also he didn't know Steve and jesus, Steve must've been reeling so hard from it all, and it results in this incredibly honest line and wow 😭😭 Never over it, ever

Gif credit (maybe) @/devbasaa from this post?

[wonwoosthetic]

So are all of the members aware of mimiwon or just Vernon since it’s not an easy topic to bring up so easily? If not, are the members suspicious but aren’t bringing it up since they rather them do it?

Hii!

So I do plan on writing maybe a chapter about this but I have to think about it more carefully ˙ᵕ˙

This is how I imagined it: The others definitely know SOMETHING is going on bc they’re way too obvious for it to stay as a secret. Some of the members got too nosey for their own good and have definitely asked about it, but the three just treat it casually and kind of just go with the flow and are like “yeah, it’s just casual fun and whatever” bc it’s definitely, like you said, not an easy topic (for people around them but also for them as it’s not the ‘norm’ like it’s socially acceptable). So most members just watch and find it adorable, but let them do their thing, in my head ˙ᵕ˙

Due to Minnie and Vernon’s closeness and him being a quiet observer, he definitely knows a bit more than the others haha

I’m also still trying to figure out how I want to write them and approach this topic, so any input and ideas/thoughts are very welcome! I only have one person in my circle that’s in a poly relationship, so I kinda take her advice and what she tells me what it’s like with her and her boyfriends🤭

[goatlilly]

Minnie Miraculous AU Ask:

For the Tiger!Miraculous holder you could use Rythm. She appears in Kuro Neko and her design is soooo adorable. You could use her concept art (found on the wiki) for her civilian outfit. I feel like Rythm and Chris interacting would be fun. Have a great day!!

So, here she is—Kitty Tiger. I had a lot of fun with this one, even if I did pretty much steal her outfit from the Akuma concept art for her. Um… yeah. This one goes out to everyone who requested Tiger Rythm, but in particular to my sister, who requested her first. (She was looking at me with puppy dog eyes like “pleeeeassseeee?” So how could I say no to that.) I think this girl spends most of the time she’s transformed role-playing as a cat. She meows and pretends to purr and hisses at people, and just kinda runs around on all fours a lot? And yeah, Cat Man and her are besties in the sense that he does his own thing and she kinda follows him around and imitates him. He says something cool and she just poses next to him like “Meow!”

She will not listen to the kids that tell her tigers don’t say meow.

Also, don’t try doing gradients with watercolor—it’s not fun.

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[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic June 1 - prompt 1: Brave [word count 846]

Once upon a time, in a land far away, a little prince was born to King Orion and Queen Walburga, the long-awaited heir to the kingdom of Grimmauld. He was named Sirius for the brightest star in the sky, the one shining right over the palace as he took his first breath. At the celebrations for his naming ceremony, as was tradition of the land for every birth, rich or poor, the king and queen welcomed the Wise Ones in the main hall of the palace. They didn’t like the two older women, and would gladly have had them stay away from the castle and their precious heir, but they knew tradition had to be honoured: the Wise Ones had to see the baby and tell the people how he would grow up.

The first woman took the baby from his cradle under the silver and green dais, and examined him under every angle before kissing him on the cheek and putting him back.

“He will grow up strong,” she said turning to the sovereigns, staring at her from their high thrones.

King Orion smiled because of course his son, his heir would be strong, and Queen Walburga nodded with relief at the thought the Wise One had clearly said the baby would grow up, not die as an infant as was too often the case.

“He will be able to bear the blows and hits directed his way with strength,” the Wise One added, moving away.

Both the King and Queen frowned at that, wondering who would dare raise their hand on a prince, but the second Wise One was already leaning over the cot.

“He will be brave,” she said, looking up and staring at the sovereigns. “The bravest of your line.”

King Orion and Queen Walburga nodded with a smile as the Wise Ones walk ed briskly away and the celebrations started again. Of course he would be brave, their kingdom always had had brave kings at its helm.

As the years passed and prince Sirius grew up, the king and queen stared to doubt the words of the Wise Ones. Where was the strength that had been promised in the little boy when he refused most fencing and military lessons in favour of hiding in the palace library to read useless old tomes about the history of the kingdom or even farming? Where was the ability to bear blows in the teenager screaming on the floor after some well-adjusted cane hits the King had had to administer when he had caught his son in a very convoluted position with the stable boy, a scrawny thing named Remus who had immediately been thrown out of the castle and should only be glad to make it away with all his limbs still attached? Where was the bravery promised when, as the celebrations for his coming of age approached, Sirius ran away one night leaving behind his title, his role, his lineage, even his brother?

It was only a couple of years later, as they both cowered in their throne room echoing with screams and clangs of swords against swords, that King Orion and Queen Walburga realised the Wise Ones had been right all along. Their kingdom had been invaded, their army defeated, even their castle was about to fall any moment now. Their secondborn and heir since Sirius’s disappearance, Prince Regulus, had been captured some weeks before and was in the hands of the invader, King James of Godric. Their own people, those unwashed and ungrateful crowds, had been rallied by the traitorous Remus Lupin who had started to put in their heads stupid things like the fact that their sovereigns should take care of them and not tax them whenever they wanted to throw a ball and had all but opened their borders and doors to the enemy. It was as the clamour around them became silence and the knight in front of the thrones pointed his sword at them while removing his helm, as  they stared in the eyes of their firstborn that they knew the Wise Ones had been right.

Sirius had been strong, strong enough to survive their anger and their blows. Sirius had been brave, brave enough to rally an army and a powerful ally to march on his own country and save its people. The Wise Ones had been right, and none of the virtues they had seen in their son would ever come to Orion and Walburga’s benefit.

Years later, at the fayre King Sirius had instituted instead of a formal ceremony for the birth of his own heir, the Wise Ones approached the royal couple and both took just one look at the baby girl asleep in King Remus’s arms.

“She will be healthy,” the first one said.

“She will be happy,” the second one added. “And she is loved.”

The kings smiled and exchanged a kiss over the head of their daughter. There would never again be a child who needed to be strong and brave against their own parents in the Kingdom of Grimmauld.

[smutmind]

Minnie for when it doesn't fit please

Tnak you very much!

When it Doesn't Fit ft. Minnie

Minnie X BBC ---- THIS IS A FLUFFY SMUT sorry if this is not your thing. ----

Minnie stood center-frame in a cotton sundress, hair curled, lips glossy, eyes wide. She blinked into the lens. “So… I just do what he tells me?”

“Exactly,” the director said. “You’re his toy. But you like it.”

A deep chuckle came from behind her. The male lead—Marcus, 33, six-four, built like a linebacker with a slow, careful walk—stepped into frame. His grip on her waist was sudden, hard.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

Minnie gasped, caught it too late. The camera caught everything. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. “Stay soft. I got you.”

The scene rolled.

Marcus jerked her around, pressing her to the couch. Her dress flipped up like paper. She squealed—a practiced sound, high and sweet.

“Didn’t say you could talk,” he growled, shoving her cheek to the cushion. “You’re just a dumb little thing, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered, face flushed, toes curling on the shag carpet.

He dragged her panties down in one practiced pull. The camera caught the curve of her ass, the tremble in her thighs. Minnie let out a soft moan and arched.

Off-cam, his hand stroked her back once. Quick. Grounding.

“Keep breathing,” he murmured low, only for her. “You’re doing perfect.”

He entered her slow—just the head—and then slammed in, forcing a cry from her lips.

“Shit—too big—!” she gasped.

“That’s the point,” he snapped, fisting her hair. “You want it all, don’t you?”

She nodded frantically, mouth open, cheeks streaked with mock tears. It was all performance—but it lit her, body and breath synced to the rhythm he set.

He fucked her like she owed him something. Like he was punishing the good girl act right out of her. But between takes, between thrusts, his hand brushed hers. Gentle. His voice dipped low.

“You need me to slow down?”

She blinked back up, voice cracking but clear. “No. Keep going. Please.”

The slap of skin echoed. Hot, wet, relentless.

Marcus had Minnie bent over the armrest now, her arms pinned behind her back, her cheek flattened to leather. Her breath hitched in broken little sobs.

“Beg louder,” he said, panting. “They need to hear you want it.”

“I do—I do want it,” she cried out. “Please—fuck me harder—!”

“Good girl.”

He adjusted his angle and drove in harder. Minnie’s moans pitched higher. Her knuckles whitened against the couch.

The cameraman moved in close—right between her thighs. The light flared. Minnie blinked through the haze and kept her mouth parted just enough, eyes glassy, like a doll being used.

Marcus gripped her hips, bruising firm, his rhythm punishing. But when he leaned forward, breath in her ear, his tone dropped again.

“You alright?”

She nodded fast, hair clinging to her cheek. “I’m good. Keep going.”

“You need a break, you say it. You’re not just a prop, okay?”

“I know,” she whispered. “But… I like this.”

That smile again. Just a flicker. He straightened, all steel once more.

“Then take it.”

He pulled out and spun her onto her back, legs spread wide. Her sundress bunched at her waist, the pink cotton soaked and wrinkled. He slapped the inside of her thigh—once, sharp.

“Keep your knees open.”

Minnie gasped. Her breath caught. “Yes, sir.”

He knelt, spit on his cock, and pushed back in, slower now but no less deep. Her body took him, all of him, her mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“That’s right,” he said. “You want to be filled like this, don’t you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

Marcus grunted, the rhythm faltering. His fingers dug deep into Minnie’s thighs as his thrusts shortened—quicker, rougher.

“You’re gonna take it,” he growled, jaw clenched, hips slamming hard. “All of it. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir—fuck—yes—”

Minnie’s legs were spread wide, trembling with the aftershock of her climax, her body twitching around him. The wet sound of him slamming into her filled the set. The crew said nothing. The camera zoomed in.

He was close.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he ordered, pulling out fast, his cock thick and glistening.

Minnie dropped to her knees without a blink, eyes wide, tongue out.

“Good girl,” he groaned, fist pumping once—twice—and then he came, hot and heavy across her lips, her cheek, the edge of her tongue.

Her hands didn’t move. She just blinked up at him, waiting.

He smeared the last streak with his thumb across her jaw, then held her chin.

“Swallow what’s in your mouth.”

She did—lips closing obediently, throat working.

“Show me.”

She opened wide. Empty.

He let out a breath. A real one. Not for show.

“Cut!” the director called. “That’s a wrap.”

Marcus’s hands dropped from dominant to careful. He knelt in front of her, wiping her face gently with a towel from his back pocket. “You alright, baby?”

Minnie nodded slowly, blinking off the daze. Her voice was hoarse, soft. “Yeah. That was... intense.”

“You crushed it.” He smiled, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Too much?”

She shook her head, laughing breathlessly. “Not enough.”

He kissed her forehead—quick, no audience for that part—and helped her to her feet.

“Go hydrate. I’ll be right there.”

She smiled back, still flushed, glowing.

“You hungry?” Minnie asked, tossing it over her shoulder as she pulled off her mic.

Marcus had followed without a word. Now they sat across from each other, her hoodie zipped to the chin, damp hair clinging to her jaw. She toyed with a slice of boiled egg in her broth.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… careful,” she said finally, eyes on her spoon. “First time working with someone, I figured it’d be all business.”

Marcus leaned back, chopsticks resting on his bowl. “Wasn’t business to me.”

She glanced up, lips twitching. “That your line for every new girl?”

“No,” he said. “Just the ones I don’t want to forget.”

Silence. Then her laugh—short, surprised.

“Well,” she said, “you definitely didn’t treat me like a stranger.”

“You didn’t act like one,” he replied. “You gave me something real back there. Most first-timers don’t.”

Minnie leaned in a little, elbows on the table. “You think I was acting?”

“Not all of it.” He looked her dead in the eye. “When you looked up at me, mouth open, eyes wet—I felt that.”

Her breath caught, just for a second.

“I’ve been in this game a while,” he continued. “But with you? I had to remember we just met. My body didn’t care. It wanted more than the take.”

She stirred her noodles slowly. “You saying you caught feelings? From one scene?”

“Not feelings,” he said. “Instinct. Like I want another shot. Off the clock.”

She stared at him for a beat. “But why? You could fuck me again anytime the schedule says so.”

Marcus leaned forward, voice low and steady.

“Because I don’t want to fuck you on command. I want to fuck you when your guard’s down. When you’re messy. When it’s not for anyone but us.”

Minnie’s cheeks went pink again, this time from heat that had nothing to do with lighting or camera angles.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” He smiled, soft and sure. “I know the sound you make when you’re right on the edge. I know you smiled when I checked in between takes. That matters more than your resume.”

She bit her lip, silent for a long second.

“Alright,” she said. “So maybe I want a second shot, too.”

Marcus picked up his chopsticks. “Then we start with dessert.”

The door clicked behind them and Minnie had him by the collar, dragging him into a kiss that left no room for guessing.

“Still want that off-the-clock fuck?” she breathed, fingers already at his shirt buttons.

Marcus smiled against her mouth. “You sure about that?”

She leaned in, lips barely brushing his. “Only if I get to call you sir again.”

That word did something to him. His grip tightened. He lifted her easily, hands under her thighs, and walked her to the couch without breaking the kiss. Her hoodie was gone by the time they landed. Nothing underneath—just warm skin and need.

She sprawled beneath him, tugging his belt loose. “God, you’re already hard.”

“You do that to me.”

She palmed him through his pants, eyes dark with mischief. “Still big off set,” she whispered. “Still trying to ruin me?”

He raised a brow. “Thought I already had.”

“Mm.” She kissed his jaw. “Not even close.”

She pushed him back and climbed on, straddling his lap. When his cock sprang free—thick, heavy, flushed—her breath caught.

“Jesus. It’s worse without the angles.”

He leaned back, watching her face. “Back out now.”

Instead, she grabbed him and lined him up. Slowly, torturously, she sank down. Her body trembled. Her mouth parted in a broken gasp.

“F-fuck, it’s—too much—”

“You got it,” he murmured, voice rough. “Take your time, baby.”

Her fingers clawed his shoulders. She moved in slow circles, letting herself open around him, adjusting inch by inch. Her brows knit. Her thighs quivered.

“I forgot how full this feels,” she panted. “You’re fucking stretching me, sir—”

“That’s it.” His grip slid down to her hips. “Look at you. Taking all of me.”

She began to ride—hips working in slow, needy rolls. Every bounce pushed a whimper from her lips. Her breasts swayed, perfect and soft, drawing his eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. “These tits—fuck.”

She laughed, breathless. “They’re not even that big.”

“I don’t care. They’re perfect. I love how they move when you ride me. I could watch you forever.”

Minnie bit her lip, face flushed. “God, I love when guys say that. Makes me feel filthy in the best way.”

He grabbed her ass, thrusting up to meet her rhythm. “You are filthy. And it’s hot as hell.”

She moaned louder. Her pace quickened, grinding harder now, every movement slicker, wetter.

“You’re unreal,” he growled, staring up at her. “Like you were made for this cock.”

“I was,” she gasped. “You make me feel—fuck—you make me feel everything.”

Her thighs trembled harder. She buried her face in his neck.

“I’m close—Marcus—fuck—”

He held her tighter. “You okay?”

“Perfect,” she whispered, shivering. “But I want it deeper. Please—wreck me.”

He shifted her gently off, kissed her shoulder, and turned her around, bending her over the couch cushions. She looked back, cheeks flushed, mouth open.

“You gonna ruin me, sir?”

He slid in from behind, slow at first, then harder. Her cry was immediate, sharp and raw.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” she begged.

He did. Hips crashing into her, his hands gripping her waist, then her breasts, kneading them as she rocked back against him. Her sounds filled the room—desperate, high-pitched.

One hand slid down. He rubbed her clit just right.

“I’m—Marcus—I can’t—fuck—”

“Yes you can. Let go.”

Her body clenched, then unraveled. She screamed, voice hoarse, as she squirted hard, soaking his thighs, her legs shaking.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. “I can’t stop—”

He was right behind her. A few more thrusts and he groaned, loud, grabbing her tight as he came—deep, spilling everything inside.

They collapsed, tangled, breathless.

For a while, neither of them moved.

Minnie finally laughed, low and stunned, still catching her breath. “You just fucked the sense out of me.”

Marcus leaned in, kissed her shoulder, then her neck. “You’re fucking incredible.”

She rolled to her knees and looked up at him, eyes gleaming. “You’re not done, are you?”

He chuckled, one brow lifted. “After that? Thought I drained you.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Not me. You.” She slid down his chest, kissing each inch along the way.

His cock was still half-hard, glistening and sensitive. She ran her tongue along the base and up the shaft, then took him in her mouth—slow, loving, no rush. He let out a shaky breath.

“God, Minnie,” he groaned. “You’re a rising pornstar and your mouth is already one of the best in the damn business.”

She hummed around him, proud and smug. Her fingers worked what her lips couldn’t, slick sounds filling the room as she sucked him back to full attention. His thighs tensed.

She pulled off just long enough to smile up at him. “Then let me remind you what got me signed.”

And she did—slow at first, then faster, deeper, lips flushed, spit stringing between strokes. Her eyes never left his. His hands tangled in her hair.

“Minnie—fuck, I’m gonna—”

She didn’t stop. She sucked harder, pulled every twitch from him as he came again, groaning deep, spilling hot and thick into her mouth.

She swallowed, licked him clean, and sat up with a smug little wipe of her mouth.

He stared at her, dazed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love,” she said softly, brushing his cheek. “Or dangerously close.”

He reached for her, pulled her into his lap, and kissed her like he believed it.

“Think we’re in trouble?” she whispered against his lips.

“Only if falling for you counts.”

She smiled, melted against him. “Love at first fuck?”

He nodded. “No question.”

[ysrjune]

What about if the Monroe twins end up finding out they did the same girl 😭

Like they try to make eachother jealous and realize

Scott would explain the girl as super pretty, smart, and then go, "She has a nice rack." And it makes Sam laugh because he was going to say the exact thing about his girl. "Mine too, but her ass is really nice too."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, this girl, too. So get this, I was walking with her around the mall the other day, right? The jeans she was wearing made her look so good. Dude, I swear I popped a boner right there." Scott pervertedly shares. "Sick," Sam nods with a smirk. "Same thing happened to me but at the fair this weekend."

the fair? Sam was at the fair?... So was Scott's girl. "Oh.. that's weird. My girl would've told me she saw you there. She was there with a friend."

"Come on, man, it's a huge ass place, and it's always crowded. It's a possibility she didn't see us."

".. Hey, what does that girl look like?"

"Uh, she has (hair type), (eye color), (hair color). Why?"

Scott's heart dropped. There was no way his little girlfriend or whatever she was to him was described very similar to his brother girlfriend. "Um. Is her name (--) by any chance."

And that's when it hit them. They were being played by the same girl. The rest of that day, the boys talked shit and were debating if they should confront her - and the plan was to do exactly that, but it never happened. they continued to hang out with that girl. she was too good of a fuck to let go.

and over the course of a couple weeks, every time they hooked up with her, they told each other about it just to be annoying. I did this with her. I did that. We did this position. We did it here.

They got jealous so easy, and it pissed them off so much that they're were being played (even though they knew), but hey.. it's not like they did anything about it. It was always just them trying to one-up another.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @gothams-sweetheart @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne @chanellyvstvd

[skullsemi]

Do you have any headcanons on whether the fab five have favourite Disney characters (that aren't part of the Mickeyverse)?

Like I know that Mickey and Minnie aren't the type to show favouritism but I feel like they would have a soft spot for Snow White since she was the very first animated movie.

I also feel like Daisy and Tinkerbell would be BFFs.

I know I sound like a broken record at this point but House of Mouse was all about that! Many interactions with them all!

I do agree about how Mickey and Minnie genuinely adore Snow White, she shows up and they just

And absolutely Tinkerbell and Daisy together is such an adorable idea!