#he probably never asked for any of this? and you can tell how resistant he is to change. I get that. it's scary.

[diabeticgirl4]

I'm watching queer eye and like. most times I can understand the fab5 and why they need to change/fix this person and the ways whatever they're teaching will help, but like. they're teaching etiquette to this total country rancher guy bc he wants to find a girl and settle down and he never learned that type of stuff and yeah manners and basic etiquette is important but rn they're focusing so much on dining and the amount of forks!! and no you can't dip your bread in soup you gotta tear a small piece and drop it in!! and you're absolutely terrible if you set your spoon on the table!!

idk man I'm super not vibing w this ep

[selfcarecap]

Lip Gloss [A.D.]

Art Donaldson x reader (x Patrick Zweig)

summary: Art loves when you kiss him while wearing lip gloss and it gets all over his own lips. What he loves even more is when you get on your knees for him and he ends up with lip gloss stains all over another certain body part of his.

warnings: smut 18+ (oral m receiving, fingering f receiving, handjob, reader and Art have sex next to Patrick who is asleep but they have permission, submissive-ish!Art, a bit of voyeurism from Patrick – he doesn’t ask but for the sake of this fic we’re assuming consent bc it’s fictional, m masturbation, spitting, cum eating, pet names: good boy, baby, reader says Art is ‘wet like a girl’), feminine Art (so dare I say canon Art🙂‍↕️) or at least he likes lip gloss lol, Art and Patrick are college roommates – attraction heavily implied between all three of them but only Art and reader are in a relationship, this was supposed to just be a drabble lol there’s no plot just porn, also i’m kinda intimidated by the challengers fandom lol idk but anyway here's my first challengers fic sddslkh <3

word count: 3.4k | gorgeous divider by @dollywons

When you first start dating Art, you always apologise for wearing lipgloss when you’re kissing him. You always wipe it off his lips after a kiss, pulling your sleeves over your hands to get it off his mouth. You’ve heard that guys don’t like it, but you like wearing lipgloss and Art has never complained. 

When you get more comfortable around him, you don’t always wipe the gloss off his lips, letting him do it himself. But he only does it because he feels like it’s what he’s supposed to do. Guys aren’t supposed to like the feeling of lip gloss. He’s probably supposed to tell you it’s annoying and ask you to stop wearing lip gloss, at least when you’re with him. 

But he doesn’t want to control you, and he doesn’t want you to stop wearing lip gloss. He just wants you to stop apologising for it.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he tells you every time with a smile, but you still do it. 

“I know it’s sticky. I won’t put any more on tonight, don’t worry.” Art stops himself from pouting at your words. 

And yes, Art once applied the lip gloss that you left on his nightstand. He was missing you and the lip gloss was the closest thing to you that he had. He ran into the bathroom when Patrick came home, wiping it off furiously before his best friend could see. 

He likes keeping a shirt of yours at his place so that he can smell you even when you’re not there, but what he likes even more is to apply your lip gloss. It’s just a thin layer, but it makes him feel like he’s been freshly kissed by you. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s definitely no reason he does it other than to feel closer to you. 

-

You’re getting ready for the birthday of a friend one night. You’ll be going to a bar for a bit, nothing big. But you’re doing your make-up on Art’s bed with him sitting behind you, hands on your hips. 

“You look so pretty.” 

He says those words for every step of your routine. He wants you to know how beautiful you are no matter how much or how little make-up you’re wearing, even if it’s cheesy. Art grins when you show him the finished look, and his eyes stay stuck on your glossy lips, tinted a dark pink, almost red colour. 

He knows you can’t resist it when he looks at you like that, he never can when it’s the other way around either, so you press a kiss to his lips. Art knows that you’ll be wiping the sticky gloss off as soon as the kiss is over, so he deepens it to keep the feeling of lip gloss on him, even though Patrick is sitting in the bed right next to you. 

Knowing him, he’s probably staring and enjoying it; Art wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the sound of Patrick’s phone camera going off. 

You smile against Art as you part your lips for him, trying but not quite managing to bring yourself to stop kissing him yet. You have to physically take Art’s chin between your fingers and push his face away from you to stop. And yet, you give in again immediately, peppering his face in kisses before you pull away for good. 

You give Patrick an apologetic smile, even though you both know he doesn’t mind you and Art making out next to him. By the time you look back at Art, he’s already wiping at the lip gloss stains all over his face. Your cheeks heat up when you realise how many marks you’ve made on him. You forgot you put on a darker and more pigmented lip gloss than normal. 

“Wait,” you giggle, pulling away Art’s hand that’s already trying to wipe the sticky gloss away, “I’ll bring you a wipe.” 

“Doesn’t he look pretty like that?” Patrick comments before you have a chance to get up. Art throws a pillow at him. 

You look between them, at Art’s face littered with shiny, sticky stains. His lips are especially dark and shiny, as if you just put some lip gloss right on there, albeit a bit messily. 

“Of course he’s pretty like this,” you say, not looking away from Art.

 “Then just leave him like that, he likes it.”

“I don’t,” Art defends much too fast, and Patrick laughs. Art reaches for his pillow to throw at Patrick but remembers he already did. He’s about to stand up to go to the bathroom and get a stupid wipe himself, but you grip his t-shirt and he sits back down. 

“It’s okay if you like it, baby. It’s hot that you do,” you try to whisper the last part, and pull him in by his t-shirt to kiss him again, “Let me clean you up, and I’ll put some lip gloss on you properly.” 

“Only cause you think it’s hot,” Art calls after you weakly. 

Patrick laughs again. 

“Shut up.”

Art shyly tries to catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

You sit back down in front of him, gently cleaning his face. You hold out the lip gloss afterwards, placing a hand on his face to apply it, the wet pop sounding when you undo the lid. 

“Wait,” Art leans back abruptly, as if you’re about to hurt him, “I want it from your lips.” 

You huff, smiling at him. You apply some more lipgloss to your own lips, taking your boyfriend’s face to give him a kiss to his pursed lips. You apply more and kiss him again. You both smile at the oddly innocent kiss – pursed lips against pursed lips. 

You wipe away the excess over Art’s cupid’s bow, grinning at his shiny, sticky lips. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tell your boyfriend, and he blushes. 

“Show me,” Patrick says, leaning forward to see Art from the front. Art turns his head away from his best friend, red up to the tips of his ears now. 

“Show him, baby,” you coax, reaching out for his chin to turn his head. You know Patrick likes to make jokes, but not when his best friend is like this – eyes like those of a puppy, genuinely embarrassed. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but Art has made it such a big deal in his head that he can’t like having your lipgloss on his lips that Patrick knows he needs encouragement right now. Patrick moves to sit at the edge of the bed to look at Art better. “Look at you, Artie, all pretty. Looks almost as good as on your girlfriend.” 

You roll your eyes – you should’ve known he can’t be fully serious. 

“You have to leave now, you’re already late,” Art reminds you, and you let him press another kiss to your lips. You’ll have to clean up the mess he’s made on your mouth on the way, but you don’t mind. You watch him enjoy the feeling of the sticky gloss on his lips a few more seconds before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You and Patrick share a look, rolling your eyes, and you blow a kiss to Art before you close the door.

 - 

You come back home early, before midnight. The birthday girl left to go see her boyfriend halfway through her own birthday party, so you’re back at Art and Patrick’s dorm. You’d be annoyed at your friend if you didn’t have your own boyfriend to go visit.

Patrick is already lightly snoring when Art opens the door for you – he’s in nothing but boxers – and you know what that means.  

Patrick has given you two permission to do whatever you want while he’s asleep, as long as you’re quiet. You’ve always wondered if it’s a tactic to secretly listen in on you and Art having sex, knowing that you would’ve otherwise never done it with him in the room. 

Art has a small light on next to his bed, and you join him on his mattress. A few leftover glitter particles sparkle on his lips, and you pull his face closer to yours. 

“Suits you so well, Artie. So pretty.” You swipe your finger over his bottom lip. He kisses it, stopping himself from smiling. He’s already looking at your lips, and you mentally pat yourself on the back for remembering to reapply your gloss just before you got here. 

You kiss him then, and Art licks into your mouth as if he’s been starved and waiting to eat you up since you left. You adjust your position to sit on top of him, and your knee grazes his lap. He’s already fully hard.

“Sorry.. couldn’ help myself. Pat fell asleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you grin, holding his jaw, “You want me to make it better? Want me to go down on you?”

Art nods distractedly, mumbling out, “please, baby. Need you”. Your thumb brushes the gloss on his lip, and Art opens his mouth. You pull your hand away before he can wrap his lips around your thumb, and you kiss him as a whine escapes his mouth, muffling his voice.

You press your lips against his until they’re coated in your shiny gloss, and then you slide a finger into his mouth. He sucks on it – pink, sparkly lips around your finger.

“You look so pretty. Should wear my lipgloss more often,” you tell him, and he turns his head away in fake-annoyance, your finger slipping out. You feel his hard cock against your leg again as he moves, and you pull at his chin to open his mouth.

Art moans as you messily push three of your fingers into his mouth to get them wet against his tongue. You pull them out and slide them down into the waistband of his boxers, and down the length of his cock.

You put your hand over his mouth before he has a chance to moan, and you nod towards Patrick. He’s asleep, his back to you, but it’s not going to take long for Art to wake him if he keeps being this loud.

You get up, and Art pulls his legs to the side of the bed as you sit down between them. He’s straining against his boxers, a tall tent pulling the fabric taut. You release Art’s cock, and it slaps against his abs. He’s glistening down his length from where you spread his spit on him, a small puddle of precum already at the tip. 

You giggle quietly, “So wet, baby. You’re wet like a girl.”

“Shut up,” he whispers back weakly, biting his lip to stop a smile from spreading over his face.

You kiss the wet tip, licking the precum, and begin to leave lip gloss stains all down his length.

“Feels so good, baby. You’re so good at this,” Art says not nearly quietly enough.

“Shh, baby. Don’t wanna wake Patrick up.”

Your boyfriend nods, but you don’t think he’s listening.

You take his dick into your mouth properly now, wet heat enveloping him as you take him deeper, and you look up to see how he bites his lip and lets nothing but a breath slip past his lips as he watches you.

“Good boy,” you whisper to him. He intertwines his fingers with yours by the side of his hip, and you look up to smile at him. You ignore how, when you look past Art for a split second, you can see Patrick clearly jerking his cock under the blanket, the movement of his arm making it obvious. 

You shake your head slightly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Art’s best friend, and you take your boyfriend deeper down your throat as your spit drips to his balls. Art looks down at you with such restraint on his face, it almost looks like he’s about to cry.

He manages not to make a sound when you suck his dick more eagerly, your lip gloss smeared over his cock as you jerk off what you can’t take past your lips. The only sound in the room is the wetness of your mouth and your spit around your boyfriend’s cock.

Art lets out a shaky breath as his abs contract, his hand squeezing yours, and you softly nod up at him, taking his cock as deep as you can. He whimpers pathetically when he spills his load down your throat, and you swallow it all as he keeps cumming and cumming in your mouth.

When you pull away, out of breath and with your lips wet, you take in the picture you created. Art’s cock is full of your lip gloss, his face shiny with a thin layer of sweat, his cheeks as red as the gloss you left on his lips earlier. You’re about to stand up and get a wipe to clean Art up, but he pulls his boxers back on.

He likes the glossy stains on his cock even more than the ones you leave on his lips. 

He pulls you up on the bed, lying you on your back. “Please can I go down on you?” he whispers, mouthing at your neck and down your chest, pulling your top down as much as the tight fabric allows, whining when he doesn’t get all the way down to your nipples.

As much as you want Art to eat your pussy, you won’t let him. He always gets messy and loud, moaning almost uncontrollably as he makes out with your wet pussy, and there is no way Patrick could pretend to sleep through that. 

If you thought Art was going to cry earlier from how good he felt, he reaches a new level of teariness now when you tell him no, eyes almost glassy.

“Tomorrow, okay? You can still use your fingers now.” Art looks at least somewhat assuaged at your offer, and lies down on his side next to you, unknowingly shielding you from Patrick. You don’t know if he came along with Art, or if he’s still jerking off, and that makes it even more exciting. 

You know Art would never cheat on you, but if you gave him permission to, and if he admitted his attraction, you’re sure he’d jump at the first opportunity to invite Patrick into bed with you two. You know Patrick feels the same. You like the thought of him listening in, making himself cum to the sound of his best friend and his girlfriend having sex.

“Here,” Art urges, holding a hand to your mouth, even though he knows you’ll be more than wet enough from giving him head. You spit into his open palm, and Art spits in too, the way he always does, liking the feeling of your combined warm wetness against his skin. 

Art reaches down your body and into your underwear, adding to the wetness. He rubs your clit in messy circles, kissing you even messier. You spread your legs for him more, but Art lets out a frustrated huff.

“Can I… want you naked,” he mumbles against your skin. Art watches with puppy eyes as you get up, taking off your tight top and grabbing your favourite oversized shirt of his instead, sliding off your trousers and panties only once you’ve put the shirt on.

“This is all you get.”

Art looks happy enough as you get back into bed with him, sliding a hand up your shirt now that he can comfortably get under the hem, and cups one of your tits.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” Art says against your lips, hand moving back between your legs to play with your pussy, “So pretty.”

He circles your clit for a few moments before he pushes a finger inside while making out with you, remnants of his own cum still in your mouth, spit and gloss between you two as he continues to rub your clit.

“You’re the prettiest woman in the world,” he says, voice almost strained, and you realise he’s hard again, humping the mattress as well as he can while lying on his side, “Wish I was inside your pussy right now.”

You have to resist giving in to him – he’ll be insatiable the rest of the night if you let him fuck you even just for a few seconds – but you reach down to pull his cock free from his boxers, wrapping your hand around him.

“Can you focus if I’m doing this?” you ask pointedly, and Art nods eagerly.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make you cum,” he promises, slurring his words as your thumb swipes over the tip. But he’s not lying, he’s still fucking your pussy with his fingers. You’ve trained him well, so he knows what to do.

You can’t deny that you’re both getting loud now, if it’s not the moans you don’t quite manage to swallow down, then it’s the sound of your wet pussy and your slicked hand around Art’s cock.

You cum almost at the same time, Art rubbing your clit at just the right, albeit messy, intensity, and your thighs squeeze around his forearm when the orgasm flows through you, your own hand not stopping around Art’s cock. He’s breathing hard, reaching for the tissues on his headboard, but the tissue box topples over and falls against his shoulder and to the floor as he tries and fails to rip out a tissue.

“Here, I got you, baby,” you angle his cock to his abs, so that he won’t be spilling all over his own sheets, and you only have to jerk Art’s dick for a few more seconds before he’s shooting ropes of cum over his own skin. His abs glisten as his breath stutters, and he has to wrap his hand around yours to stop when he gets too sensitive.

“I love you so much,” Art huffs with a smile, and you kiss him briefly.

“I love you too.” You gather his cum off his abs, wiping it over your palm and holding it over his mouth. It drips and falls between Art’s parted lips. Art hums when you slip your fingers into his mouth, and he sucks the last drops of his load off them.

“Such a good boy,” you rub your thumb over his cheek, gazing at him in awe.

“I love you so much,” he tells you again, a soft smile on his face.

When you’re done and you look over, Patrick is back to quietly snoring, a freshly crumpled tissue by the side of his bed. You kiss Art before you can begin to smirk, and you briefly consider telling him. You decide it’s a conversation for another day. Art would definitely get hard again if he knew that Patrick was jerking off to you two doing it, and he’s already squeezed out two orgasms just now. You don’t need him that overstimulated tonight.

You remove your makeup and get one of the fresh pairs of panties Art bought for you to keep at his place. You walk back into the bedroom and find Art on his back, smiling at you all fucked out. 

You lie down with him, letting him cup one of your tits for comfort so that he can sleep better. You kiss his cheek and see that his lips are still shiny with glittery gloss. You decide not to offer to clean him up, now that you know he likes it like that. 

P.S. Thank you for reading <3 Reblog and comment for Art to come and kiss the gloss off your lips 🤭

[rafeandonlyrafe]

ready

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, soft!rafe, inexperienced!reader (not a virgin though), reader is briefly described as small chested, p in v sex, mentions of past bad experiences

you feel like you've been kissing rafe for hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes as his lips gently glide against yours. his hands are placed securely at your waist, not venturing any further until you give him permission, even though he's itching to feel your bare skin.

“should we take this upstairs?” rafe asks, his voice a soft hum, sultry and low.

“oh, um-” you freeze, and rafe can feel the change in your body, the way you suddenly stiffen.

“just because wheezie is going to come home soon. we can just kiss, don't have to do anything you don't want to.” rafe quickly clarifies.

“yes, then.” you nod enthusiastically. “absolutely.”

rafe smiles, looping your hands together as he walks you upstairs to his room. you feel your heartbeat speed up, even though rafe assured you that you wouldn't be doing anything you weren't ready for.

“sorry for freaking out for a second earlier.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as rafe shuts the door behind you.

“it's fine.” rafe shakes his head. “i should have been more clear. we take this at your pace, baby.”

“thank you.” you loop your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. “who knew rafe cameron could be such a sweeatheart?”

“you bring it out in me, princess, i don't know what to say.” rafe backs you up until the back of your knees hit his bed and you lower yourself down.

“i do have a question though.” rafe hums as he sits himself down next to you. “and im not going to judge you either way, it's just for me to know how to handle things.”

“okay.” you nod, already guessing where this is going.

“are you a virgin?”

“no.” you shake your head. “ive had a couple experiences before but none of them have been… good.” you sigh, thinking back to your first boyfriend who took your virginity on prom night, in all of 30 seconds. “and i haven't had sex in a long time so in a way i kind of feel like a virgin.”

“okay.” rafe nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, gently cradling you against his side. “thank you for telling that to me.”

“i… want to, though. with you.”

“there's no rush, i want you too, but we can take our time.” rafe presses a kiss to your head.

“you're not gonna get bored waiting?” you duck your head as you speak, ashamed of the question even as you ask.

“never, babes. you're my girl, yeah? i don't take that lightly. if i wasn't willing to wait, i wouldn't have asked you out in the first place.”

a smile stretches across your cheeks as you hide your face in rafes shirt. 

“oh, you're so cute when you're all shy.” rafe laughs, cupping your cheek and lifting your face up to look at him, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.

“i want you.” you say, chasing rafes lips to connect them.

“you already said that.” 

“i mean-” you take a deep breath, considering your decision. “i mean i want you now. im ready.”

“right now? baby if you feel pressured-”

“no, no.” you grip his shirt. “i really want this.”

“okay.” rafe can't help the smile that stretches across his cheeks. “we're taking things slow though, alright?”

you nod, kissing him again as rafe moves you, guiding you to lay back against the pillows. he hovers over you, holding his weight up on his elbows.

rafe pulls back, looking down at you. “you're so beautiful.”

you feel your cheeks flush red as you blush, resisting the urge to cover your face. 

“im gonna take my shirt off first, alright? make you feel nice and comfortable.” rafe says.

“you mean make me feel hot and turned on? because that's what happens when you take your shirt off around me.” you giggle.

“oh, i see the way you stare at me when i take you out on the boat.” rafe laughs, placing his knees on either side of your body on the bed, caging you in as he straightens out, pulling his shirt off.

“can i… touch you?” you question. you've hugged rafe before when he's shirtless, but you've never specifically focused on feeling his muscles.

rafe doesn't answer with his words, simply taking your hand and placing it on his abs.

you run your hand over the ridges of his abdomen before moving up, feeling his defined chest, pecks almost as big as your own breasts.

“satisfied?” rafe asks when you lower your hand.

“yeah im… im gonna take my shirt off now.” you tell rafe, wanting to feel rafe touching you, the way your bare skin presses together when he leans back down and kisses you.

rafe moves back, allowing you to pull your tank top off, leaving your bra covering your chest for now.

“so hot, baby.” rafe drops himself over you, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling the way he's so sculpted there too as your hand drifts down his back.

“can i take your bra off?” rafe questions. “only if you want.”

“mhm.” you go to reach behind your back, but rafe moves faster than you, unclipping your bra and sliding the straps down your arms. he leaves you the final decision to pull the cups away.

you swear rafes eyes increase in size as he takes in your bare chest.

“it's okay, you can touch me. i-i want you to touch me.” 

rafe nods, hands coming to cover your tits, large palms swallowing them.

“i know they're small-” you begin to explain, but rafe cuts you off.

“they're perfect, baby.” rafe says honestly. you can see him now beginning to tent in his shorts as he stays kneeling above you, hands moving to cup your tits, thumbs running around your nipples before swiping over them.

you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. none of the guys you slept with in the past paid any real attention to making you feel good as rafe continues, watching your nipples harden with every movement.

“we can stop here for today if you like.” rafe says, hands moving to your waist, wrapping around you as he drops once again to press a kiss to your lips.

“no, i don't want to stop.” you admit shyly. “i want you so bad.”

“good, because im hard as hell and if you wanted to stop id definitely have to go take care of myself in the bathroom.” rafes joke diffuses the situation even more as you let out a laugh.

“im just gonna touch you over your shorts for now. if at any point it's too much…” rafe trails off, knowing he's being so extra cautious you probably find it annoying, but he doesn't want today to be added to your list of bad experiences.

rafe moves himself to the side, distracting you with more kisses as his hand drops to spread your legs, fingers gently running over your thighs before moving up higher.

rafe keeps his movements light as he begins to rub your center, increasing the intensity when you moan against his mouth.

“does that feel good?” he smiles down at you, watching your face contort in pleasure.

“in… inside my shorts please.” you take rafes hand and move him one less barrier away. rafe sees your need and immediately begins to rub again, now with just your underwear in the way.

“oh god, you're so wet.” rafe groans, focusing in on your clit as you let out soft moans, aware that you're likely no longer alone in the house.

“i-i need you rafe.”

“yeah.” rafe pulls his hand out, clearly unable to wait as he's straining against the zipper of his shorts.

rafe steps off the bed and you watch in fascination as he undoes his shorts, sliding them off to reveal his incredibly obvious bulge in his underwear before rifling through his nightstand to pull out a condom.

“no complaints.” he says when you open your mouth. “i know you're on birth control but your first time with me is not going to be raw. just in case you don't like it.”

you giggle, rolling your eyes. “i know im gonna like it, rafe.”

“still.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you watch intensely as rafes underwear is also pushed off his hips, his cock standing hard and up away from his body.

“do you want me to… suck it or something?”

“if you do that i won't get to fuck you.” it takes you a second to realize what rafe means.

“oh!”

“you just… really turn me on.” he admits.

you lift your hips and push your shorts and underwear down in one go, kicking them off the bed to add to the piles of clothes on the floor

rafe smirks, glad you're growing more and more confident every minute.

rafe lays back down next to you, both turning to the side to face each other.

“are you nervous?” rafe questions, hand falling to your bare hip, rubbing your leg and keeping his eyes locked with yours, despite wanting to look down and see all of you.

“i thought i would be.” you admit softly. “but im not. not with you.”

“im gonna let you control everything at first.” rafe lifts your leg and sets it over his hip, his cock nestling between your thighs.

you close your eyes as you press down, experimenting with the way rafes cock rubs through your folds, having to remember to keep your moans quiet when it bumps against your clit.

“whenever you're ready.” rafe says, his eyes now squeezed shut as he concentrates on holding himself back.

you reach down, grasping rafes cock as you move him against your entrance, angling your hips as you sink forward until he's as far inside of you as he can get in this position.

“just…” rafes hand squeezes at your hip. “stay like that for a second, baby.”

you need a moment to adjust anyways, so you keep your hips still until rafe exhales and nods at you.

you look down between your bodies, watching the way his cock disappears inside of you with every movement.

“god, you feel amazing.” he moans. 

“you can move. please.” you whimper. rafe nods again, beginning to rock back and forth, making the mattress squeak underneath you as he meets your thrusts.

the movements may be slow, but you're gradually building up, experimenting by shifting your hips and seeing what feels best.

you let out a sudden moan when you tilt your hips and rafes cock hits a new sensitive spot inside of you.

“no one's ever done that before for you, huh?” rafe smiles at your clear shock and pleasure as he thrusts in and presses the spot again.

“oh fuck.” you whine, head leaning back as rafe carefully moves you onto your back so he can take over.

“you don't know how long ive wanted to see you like this.” rafe says, balancing on his elbows as his hips press into you, keeping the thrusts slow but deep.

“moaning beneath me. god, i would have waited forever for you but im so glad we're doing this now.” 

“rafe, stop.” you whine. “you're gonna make me cry and im way too horny to start sobbing.”

rafe laughs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead before refocusing on your pleasure as he speeds up.

“im gonna touch your clit as i fuck you, baby.” rafe informs you before moving his hand, thumb pressing over your clit as he rubs.

“oh shit!” you squeal before quickly covering your mouth, your hips lifting off the bed as rafe continues to fuck into you.

“are you close?” he questions, glad that you nod, not sure how much longer he can hold off.

rafe pushes his pleasure aside for a bit longer as he presses inside of you, sighing with relief when he feels you tighten around him.

“oh my god, rafe!” you moan as your high suddenly hits, entire body shaking as your pussy pulses around his cock, spurring on rafes own orgasm as he cums with a moan of your name, filling the condom.

he gives you a feel final thrusts, his thumb shakily rubbing your clit through your high until he can't hold himself up any longer, collapsing on the bed to the side of you.

you're both breathing heavily, recovering from the intensity. as soon as rafe can get his muscles to respond to him, he pulls you in close, tucking you against his side.

“so, was i good baby?” he asks, even as your body still shakes with the after waves of your pleasure.

“best ive ever had.” you grin up at him. “by a long shot.”

“just what i like to hear.” rafe bends down to give you a kiss before pushing your hair away from his face and leaning to whisper into your ear. “and you haven't even got to feel my mouth yet. just wait until i eat you out.”

[amirasainz]

Can we please have more of little alonso? Like when she was born and nando holding her for the first time and the grid are confused where he is?

Or before the grid official meeting her, nanda showing them pictures of her and telling them about something cute she did.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

The newest dad on the grid

Fernando stepped into the paddock for the first time in weeks, his signature confident strut unchanged, but there was something different about him—an energy, a spark, a glow even. The break he had taken from the Formula 1 season to welcome his daughter had rejuvenated him in ways no victory lap could. The paddock, buzzing with its usual pre-race fervor, quieted as drivers spotted Fernando.

“Nando!” came a shout from Charles, who jogged over with a huge grin. “Welcome back! How’s... the baby?!” His face lit up like a kid waiting to hear about Christmas morning.

Max, never far from Charles, joined with a smirk. “Yeah, Fernando, how’s fatherhood treating you? You look—different. Happier, even.”

Fernando chuckled, patting both of them on the shoulders. “Ah, much better than any race, I can tell you that. Yn, my little girl, she’s perfect.”

George approached next, Lewis in tow. “Alright, alright, hold on,” George said, adjusting his perfectly tailored shirt. “Are we finally going to see pictures of this famous Yn? Because the way everyone’s been talking, she’s already an icon.”

“Wait, don’t start without me!” Lando called, sprinting over, followed by Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre. The group was forming faster than a DRS train on a straight.

Fernando, laughing at the commotion, pulled out his phone. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let me show you.” He unlocked the screen and turned it toward them. The photo he showed was of a tiny baby swaddled in a soft pink blanket, her big brown eyes staring up at the camera with curiosity and innocence.

“OH MY GOD,” Lando exclaimed, practically squealing. “She’s adorable!”

“Look at those cheeks!” Charles leaned in closer, his face nearly pressed against the screen. “She’s like a tiny angel! I bet you can't stop kissing them.”

“She has your eyes,” Lewis said softly, his warm smile matching the tone of his voice.

Fernando puffed out his chest, clearly basking in the praise. “She does, doesn’t she? And she already loves motorsport. When I hold her and talk about racing, she doesn’t cry. She just listens.”

Max snorted. “Fernando, she’s like two weeks old. She probably just likes your voice.”

“She’s already your biggest fan, mate,” Carlos interjected with a proud grin. “Don’t listen to Max.”

Fernando swiped to another photo. This time, Yn was asleep, her tiny fist wrapped around Fernando’s finger. The group collectively let out a chorus of “Awwww!”

“She’s so small!” Pierre said, his voice unusually soft. “Like, her hand is smaller than your finger! How do you even handle her without being terrified?”

“It’s instinct,” Fernando replied with a shrug, though the softness in his voice betrayed his own awe. “The moment I held her for the first time, everything clicked. She’s everything now.”

As Fernando flipped through more pictures—Yn in a tiny onesie with a Formula 1 logo, Yn sleeping on his chest during a nap—the drivers grew more animated.

“Does she have a favorite team yet?” Lando teased, nudging Carlos.

“Obviously Aston Martin,” Carlos quipped. “She knows where her dad is.”

Fernando raised a finger. “Actually, she smiles the most when I hum the Spanish anthem.”

“Of course she does,” George said with a laugh. “Your baby, your rules.”

“Does she cry a lot?” Oscar asked shyly.

“Only when she’s hungry or tired,” Fernando said proudly. “She’s very calm otherwise. I think she’ll grow up to be very composed, like her father.”

“Yeah, sure,” Max muttered under his breath, earning a playful shove from Lewis.

The group continued to coo over the photos, and even the normally reserved drivers couldn’t resist commenting. Esteban smiled as he observed from a distance but eventually joined in, congratulating Fernando.

“You should bring her to a race one day,” Charles suggested.

“Yeah,” Lando added enthusiastically. “Imagine a tiny Alonso in the paddock, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Fernando grinned. “Maybe one day. But for now, she’s better off at home with her mamá. She needs to be calm, not surrounded by all this chaos.”

As the drivers dispersed, Fernando was left with a lingering feeling of warmth. The camaraderie of the paddock had always been special, but now, as a father, he felt it even more deeply. Yn wasn’t just his world; she had somehow become part of theirs too.

Later, during the drivers' press conference, a journalist asked Fernando how it felt to be back after his short break.

“It feels amazing,” he said, his smile unshakeable. “But not as amazing as being a father. Yn is my inspiration now. Every lap, every corner—I’m racing for her.”

The other drivers in the room exchanged knowing smiles. Fernando Alonso, the fierce competitor, had softened in the best possible way. Fatherhood suited him, and they were all here for it.

[heartlogan]

the story ends

✮— logan x f!reader (set in xmen days of future past)

✮— summary: the day that logan lost you

✮— a/n: again, only my second time writing for logan so be gentle pls, i specialise in angst but this isn’t my best </3 (also, could be connected to all coming back to me — my first logan fic. no reading order!)

✮— warnings: probably ooc! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, depictions of dying, it’s set in the original timeline so it is sad, talk of loss and death, one (1) moment of affection, major angst, guilt, sentinels, canon typical violence, & gore (ish, but to be safe), BLOOD, pronoun ‘she’ used, unspecified mutant reader, lmk if theres more!

MASTERLIST

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

There are so many things you had lived to regret in your life, so many things that you had dwindled on instead of simply moving forwards. And in the end, none of it had ever mattered. No matter what you had or hadn’t done, life had led you here — to the very end of the world.

You hadn’t fought in wars like Logan had, weren’t used to the brutality of it all. Fighting, and battles, all of that you were familiar with. But not this. This was on another level.

The X-Men had been helpless to fight against this, unable to resist such a tidal wave of hatred and murder. The Sentinels had destroyed so many of your kind already, that there were barely any of you left to fight anyway. And those of you who had lived through the initial slaughters had been scattered across the globe, made to search for one another while constantly trying to evade those seeking n you out to kill you.

It was exhausting. All of it. And it wasn’t only you who felt that way — those remaining were all tired. Tired of the constant movement, tired of the constant loss, tired of the neverending chase. You could see it on everyone’s faces — Charles looked as bad as you had ever seen him, struggling to cope with the loss of almost all of his students. And Ororo, you could tell, was fighting to hold herself together. She had lost too many people, too many friends. Magneto was no stranger to loss, especially like this, but it was written all over him, too.

And there was Logan.

Logan who, in all the time you had known him, had never stopped fighting. For all of that to be in vain was clawing at him, tearing him down. There was a new age to him, and you weren’t talking about the grey hairs that seeped from his temples. He seemed far too old to still be fighting, to still spend every living moment trying to stay alive, trying to keep those he cared about safe. Everyone had lost so much since the Sentinels appeared.

“How much longer do you think we can stay here?” You asked Storm, gazing out at the sky ahead of you, glancing back towards the jet that was stood on the makeshift runway. She stayed quiet long enough for you to grow concerned and look her way, and you saw the unease to her stance. “We need to leave, don’t we?”

“It’s not safe.” She replied distantly, looking out towards the cloudy sky. Your brows furrowed instantly, and you turned to look at the clouds once more.

“Nowhere is safe, Ororo.” You stated firmly, trying not to let the emotion betray you in your voice. She seemed to come back to herself at your words, and you just about registered her turning to look at you. You hadn’t said anything that she didn’t already know to be true, but still, the delivery of the fact left her with a stinging feeling in her chest. An aching sort of pain, a longing for a home that none of you could ever return to.

She thought of the mansion, and tried to force her way past the memories of it torn apart, destroyed. It was easy to forget, in times like these, exactly how things had been before. But Storm could practically envision it all in her mind, the bustling halls between classes, the crackle of fire as the adults shared a drink after a rough battle, the constant noise of mutants embracing their powers.

That was meant to be a mutant safe haven, and it was gone. She knew you were right — nowhere was safe for your kind, not anymore.

“I know.”

You let her words settle, and chose to linger and look at the view, even as Storm turned and made her way back to the plane.

Admittedly, the view wasn’t much, but it was nice to see the sky without a plane of glass in the way. All of you spent so much time inside the jet now, barely able to land without Sentinels descending upon you. It was somewhat safer in the sky, although there had been some close calls.

The wind whistled in your ears, a welcome breath against your skin, and you easily preferred this to the way it usually whipped against the side of the jet.

You heard the shuffle of feet in your direction before you felt his presence, a warm hand coming to rest on the small of your back. It was soothing, warming you up as you let the cold breeze surround you.

“‘S almost time to go,” Logan told you, speaking quietly. His gruff voice still sent shivers down your spine, despite his warm hand on your back. He turned to look down at you after a second, eyes scanning over the entirety of you, analysing. “You ready?” He asked after another moment, knowing you always tried to take in as much of the fresh air as you could.

“I’ll just be a sec.” You responded calmly, breathing in deeply, finding comfort in the way his palm moved with your body. When he didn’t move, you turned to look at him, finding him still watching you. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his loving gaze, albeit somewhat weakly. You placed a hand on the side of his face, brows creasing. “Everything okay, Logan?” You asked, concerned, because he seemed off, even though everything in the world was off. It was something more than that.

He nodded as your thumb stroked his cheekbone, trying to provide some amount of comfort in a world where comfort didn’t exist.

“I’ll wait with you.”

You smiled, trailing your hand down from his face until you reached his own palm, which you gripped tightly.

Slowly, you noticed the sun beginning to shine on the horizon. You knew you needed to be gone before it had risen fully. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.” You said reassuringly, tilting your head and squeezing his palm tightly at his uncertain look. “Promise.” You added, and he hesitated for a moment longer, before turning away, squeezing your hand once in return before he let it go fully.

He seemed reluctant to leave your side, even as he walked away. You shook your head, grinning softly, glad for the few good things you had left in your life. Logan was everything to you — he had been for more than a few years.

You took one more glance at the rising sun, before turning away, ready to head after Logan. But then your head tilted, brows furrowing in confusion. There was a buzzing feeling in your hands, your heart speeding up its pace, and you looked around in concern.

That was when you saw it — the Sentinel heading straight for the jet on the right.

Ororo was closest, and she hadn’t seen it yet.

“Storm! On your right!” You yelled, desperation leaking into your voice as you watched her spin, finally noticing the murder bot creeping up on her. Even from this distance, you could see the way her eyes went white, lighting up as the wind picked up suddenly, rain slowly starting to leech from the clouds above that were quickly multiplying with the force of Storm’s power.

You couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief as she struck it with lightning, summoning winds to throw it over the edge of the cliff side, because you knew it wasn’t over — more were coming, if they weren’t already here.

Starting towards Logan, you only just registered the way his eyes widened and he moved towards you before it dawned on you.

You hadn’t checked your six.

Before you could even turn, you felt it.

When you looked down, you saw the Sentinel spearing you through the stomach, the wound far too big to comprehend.

Blood was tickling the back of your throat, and you couldn’t even swallow around it. It was too late, you noticed distantly, as you looked towards where Logan was trying to get to you, seeming as though he was moving in slow motion.

The Sentinel ripped its limb from your body, and your knees buckled, sending you to the ground.

It was a very far away realisation, the fact that you would die here, in mere moments. Instead, your main focus was Logan, watching the anguish and denial plaster his face. You barely heard the other Sentinels rising from the cliff side behind you, but you knew they were there.

And you knew that the others knew it too.

Storm had made her way towards Logan, and you hadn’t even noticed how close she was to him before then. She must’ve noticed the Sentinel approaching you at the same time he had. Her face was painted with grief, evident in every crease of her expression, in the very way she moved. She placed her palms against Logan’s chest, and pushed.

“Logan, it’s too late. Please. It’s too late. We need to go.” Ororo begged, her voice shaking with every word that left her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, to see the blood that had started trickling from the corners of your mouth, painting your skin. She didn’t want to see the life leave your eyes.

“Logan!” Charles’ voice raised, trying to be heard over Storm’s power. Logan hadn’t even heard his wheelchair in the jet, too focused on the way you looked at him, your eyes dimming with every moment he couldn’t get to you.

He felt Erik before he had even realised the man had descended the ramp, felt the pull of his powers. The way he forced Logan’s skeleton to bend to his will, to step away from you. From the love of his life. The only thing he had managed to keep hold of in this apocalyptic world.

“No, no, no, no,” Logan begged, yelling for you, waiting for you to snap out of it, to just get up. “C’mon! C’mon, get up!” He yelled, trying to push against Erik’s power, but finding he couldn’t even take another step towards you. He felt Storm push harder on his chest, but he didn’t notice, too busy watching the way your head tilted, your eyes glassy, the way your lips lifted at the edges, showing just a flash of bloody teeth. You smiled at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Storm said, as Erik finally managed to pull Logan some steps back, going up the ramp.

It was the hardest Logan had ever fought against his power, which made lifting the plane simultaneously all the more difficult. But Erik focused his mind, pulling the plane from the ground as Storm finally released Logan to press the button to lift the ramp.

“She’s gone, Logan.” Charles said sadly, feeling the way your consciousness drifted from his grasp.

Logan just caught the slump of your body to the ground through the swarm of Sentinels as the ramp closed fully. Erik allowed him to fall to his knees when he realised he had stopped fighting, but kept a loose grip on the adamantium in his skeleton out of fear that he might tear apart the plane to get to your body.

A sullen silence took over the jet, everybody resigned to loss by now, but for Logan this was different. He stared at the ramp, unable to get the image of your empty eyes out of his mind. Your body, slumped on the ground, left there to rot.

And all he could think was that if he had only stayed with you, you might still be here. If it weren’t for him, you might be alive.

[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 

[unnerving-presence]

Hello! I absolutely love your writing it's so much fun. Could I please request any three killers of your choosing who has the reader, s/o or not either way would still be funny, over their shoulder and on the way to a hook and they just yell out "Can I get a please before you treat me like a common whore?"

i feel bad whenever i get asked to choose the killers because then i will most definitely just make them the killers i’m interested in at the moment 😭

𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹

Chucky:

Gives you a big laugh and argues that you already are a whore (affectionate) and that he doesn’t need to say please to begin with. It cancels out. PEMDAS or something..

He doesn’t take most of what you say super seriously anyways and quickly puts you on a hook, telling you he’ll take you on a nice date after all this. He’ll figure something out.

“You still pretty much called me a whore” “Yeah, yeah. You know I would never mean it that way, sweetheart”

Next time you’re in a trial with him he’ll mockingly ask you if he has to say please before doing anything involving killing you.

He still has yet to set up that date..

Pyramid Head:

Given what he represents he partially wants to take you up on that offer. That much is clear when his usual hand on your ass holds you tighter to his shoulder ever so slightly while he carries you. He’s genuinely thinking about it, something he doesn’t really do when you try to bargain with him during trials.

Give him a couple hooks and he might make a decision.. or just stare at you for a second as his way of telling you that you won’t be getting an answer. He’s needlessly complicated at times..

..Which is why you would’ve never expected him to listen to you a couple days later. however long that is in The Entity’s realm. To be fair, your trials lately have been laughably short and he knows you’d probably appreciate some not so TLC before he puts you on a meat hook.

Tarhos Kovács:

He didn’t think of you as some of the ‘workers’ he would see in Italy but he supposes he occasionally treats you as one in the heat of intimacy. Clearly you speak jokingly, but he finds the proposition amusing nonetheless.

He’ll scoff at your words in which he’s met with your fists relentlessly beating on his armored back, doing virtually nothing to him. He feels you should know by now that no matter how attractive he thinks you are that he won’t treat you differently during trials but he knows you won’t really be giving up on your acts of resistance any time soon. It’s a bit cute to see you try anyways. Makes him chuckle.

Don’t worry, he treats you much better outside of trials. At least he actually listens to your complaints.. but instead of putting you on a meat hook he tends to solve your incessant yapping with exactly what you asked for in the first place, minus the ‘saying please’ part..

[coqvttes]

୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DOLLED UP!❞ ― CARLOS O.

― ꒰ CORRUPTION ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―

୨୧˚ synopsis: after making you wait nearly two months to lose your virginity, you surprise him in lingerie that you know he can't resist corrupting you in.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, virginity loss, lingerie, p in v, petnames, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!carlos, creampie, teasing, fingering, spitting, some aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 2k (my bad lol this is not proof-read)

its been nearly two months since you've been with carlos. everything has been wonderful, but the only problem is that you're a virgin, and he still hasn't fucked you yet. you know he is the one, but you just can't bring yourself to ask him properly. you've hinted at him, but he brushes it off. he just doesn't want to make you feel like he's forcing it on you because you're not ready. being faint-hearted didn't help either; you were too shy to ask him, and you've had to make do with what he'd give you. lingering touches, messy kisses, and filthy words that all but led to nothing. he'd claim it was too early or that you weren't ready yet, and you'd just nod, too meek to protest.

but now, you don't think you can wait any longer as you plop down on your bed, your eyes boring into the ceiling. you turn your head to the side, and your gaze averts to the pretty white lacey lingerie set sitting on your duvet that you had bought just for carlos. a little surprise for him. but you'd never had the chance to wear it for him because you weren't ready? well, now you are, so you pick up your phone to dial his number, and he picks up after a couple rings.

"carlossss, can you over? pleeeease?" you whine, lying on your tummy on your soft bed. you kick your feet up on the bed as you plead with him. you can hear his smile as he speaks.

"sure, baby, what's up?" you heart aches as you hear his gruff voice from the other side of the phone. gosh, you're so needy, you start to feel wet from just hearing him.

"mmm, nothing, just miss you and i wanna show you something.." you know, if you tell him your true intentions, he'll probably protest.

"show me something, huh? you’re so cute. what have you been up to too, hm, princess?" he teases, completely oblivious to your little surprise waiting for him. you let out a soft, mischievous giggle.

"it's a surprise! you have to come over to see ittt."

"alright alright, i'll see you in 30? try not to miss me too much, hm? i know it's hard," he chuckles, and you can't help but grin and roll your eyes.

"don't be too long."

— ୨୧ —

it's been around 20 minutes, and you're all dolled up in the set, kneeling on the bed, anxiously waiting for him. your eyes are trained on the doorway, excitement coursing through your body. you wonder how he'll react and what he'll say. you're snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the front door open, and you recognize his heavy footsteps as he makes his way to your bedroom.

as the door swings open, his breath hitches, and he freezes at the doorway of the bedroom, gawking at you as you sit prettily in the middle of the bed. there you were. dolled up in a gorgeous white lacey set, barely covering anything, and you just looked so adorable in it.

“fuck, baby—“ he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence as he stares at your tits that are practically spilling out of the skimpy bra you wear. your innocent doe eyes gazing right back into his own, nervously.

“do you like it?" your voice is quiet and meek; his heart melts at your question, and he can’t even find the right words to say. you reach out a hand to him, desperate to be close to him, and he finds himself moving closer to you instinctively.

“i love it, baby. i love you,” he says, walking closer until he stands at the foot of the bed. he takes your hand and pulls you close. leaning down, he presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you moan into his mouth, your other hand moving up to grasp his hair. kissing carlos always leaves you breathless. the way his lips capture yours just perfectly, the way his stubble tickles your soft face, and the way his hand slides up to cup your cheek tenderly. he pulls away from you with a smile on his face.

“i’m ready, carlos, wan’ you to make love to me." you whisper. his breath hitches at your words, and suddenly you're helping him tug his cargos down. he pulls his compression shirt over his head and drops it onto the bedroom floor. the matress dips slightly with the weight of him as he rests one knee on the bed. carlos then reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, and he slips it off of you. a shy blush adorns your face as you reveal yourself to him for the first time. he lowers his head to press gentle kisses over your tits, and you both moan in unison when his warm tongue glides over your sensitive bud. your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing him into your chest desperately.

"you're so beautiful," he says, leaning up to kiss you once more.

he grins against your lips as his hand slowly slides up your inner thigh. he then toys with the band of your lacy panties before sliding them to the side. he backs up and lowers himself on the bed so you can feel his hot breath on your glistening cunt. he leans in, and you think he's going to kiss your heat, but instead, he spits on it! bringing his rough palm to cup your wet cunt, you let out a pathetic whimper. you must be so needy for him, he thinks. he gathers up your arousal before pushing his middle and ring fingers inside you, groaning at how wet your cunt is. you feel yourself instantly weaken as his fingers enter you. from all the sensitivity that had been building up, your back arches off the bed, your head falling back into the pillows. a grin adorns his features, and as he watches your every reaction, he curls his thick fingers inside of your cunt before pumping them in and out of you in a slow rhythm, hitting the spot inside of you that makes your vision blur and your jaw hang open.

"mmm! faster!" you whine, writhing in the sheets, desperate for release.

"say please, princess."

"please!" you plead, glossy eyes gazing down at him. how could he deny you when you begged him like that? his calloused thumb gently rubs at your bud in circular motions, further stimulating you, and you feel your release wash over you in an instant, your thighs trembling violently as you mewl out his name. as you come down from your high you catch him staring at you in awe.

gosh, he's not even sure if you're really that innocent with the way you’re testing his patience right now. he's trying his hardest not to pin you down and fuck you completely dumb with the way your finger rests on your plump bottom lip. the way you rub your legs together. and the way you give him those pretty "fuck me" eyes. maybe its because you've been needing him for so long. depraved of his touch. but it doesn't matter because he loves it. and he's going to show you just how much he does.

and before you know it, he’s nudging the tip of his throbbing dick against your overstimulated, slick entrance. your mouth drops open slightly when you gasp at the stretch as he pushes his length inside your warmth. struggling cunt barely being able to swallow all of him as your grip on his muscular bicep tightens and your brows furrow. he sinks his entire length in with a low groan and notices your discomfort before he coos.

"shit, baby, it will feel good soon, i promise." you nod and he starts building up a good pace, pushing himself in and out of you sensually, grinding against your clit a few times to make you feel good.

he lifts your legs for you with his palm resting on the underside of your thighs for a better angle. the pleasure begins to replace the harsh sting of the stretch, and you try to suppress your needy moans by covering your mouth with your palm. but carlos has none of it, and he pulls away your arm, pinning it next to your head.

"let me hear you, doll."

he then makes it his mission to draw out all of your gorgeous noises by pounding into you faster and harder. as he picks up the pace, you can't bring yourself to be quiet anymore, and soon soft whimpers and mewls spill from your lips, and he swears he's never heard prettier sounds. his gaze is now fixated on the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in. what a lewd sight.

"is it too rough, sweetheart?" he asks, as he quickly remembers that this is indeed your first time, not wanting to go too hard on you because he knows it must hurt. you shake your head and slide your hand up to his cheek.

"i-i like it-" you interrupt yourself with a moan as you feel him hit a particular spot inside you that has your mind going numb. wanton moans spill from your pretty lips as his hips snap against yours; the sweat rolling down his abs makes him look like a god right now, and you just want to kiss him so badly.

"kiss me," you whimper, hands clinging to his broad shoulders for support. your needy lips beg to feel his as he lets out a soft chuckle before leaning down to press his lips to yours. he pours his passion out for you into the kiss, and you whimper into his mouth, tongues clashing against each other. when he pulls away, you find yourself breathless and your lips swollen. he continues to thrust into you, and your hands move up to grope on your soft tits, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples. he nearly cums at the sight and replaces your hands with one of his own, further stimulating you as you start to feel overwhelmed by the pressure in your core.

"fuck, just like that, doll," he moans, feeling his release nearing as well. your wet heat clenches around him so perfectly that the momentary feeling causes a lapse in judgement, and he whispers in the heat of the moment.

“fuck, baby, shoulda fucked you sooner. gonna ruin you so bad, doll."

as if your body responds naturally to him, your mind goes blank, and your moans grow high-pitched as you feel the entire force of your release wash over you completely. he releases his grip on your thighs, and your legs close around his waist, pulling him flush against you, keeping him close as he releases inside of you, letting out a guttural moan. he drops his head to your shoulder and litters your collarbone with gentle kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts earlier.

"didn't go too hard on ya did i? how do you feel, hm? i know i'm good," he teases, pulling out of you slowly. wow, even after fucking your brains out, he remains cocky. but you love it and you shake your head at his words.

"thank you," you breathe out. he smiles as he's reaching for his briefs before pulling them on. he caresses your cheek tenderly.

"you don't need to thank me, gorgeous," he chuckles lightly before dissappearing into the bathroom and returning to you with a cloth.

"mm i love youuu," you say as he begins to clean you up, slipping off your panties and wiping you down with the slightly damp cloth.

"love you too, pretty girl," he says before snatching your slick-covered panties from the duvet and stuffing them in his pocket.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

losing your virginity to chuuya.....that's it that's the ask I ...I bet he would be so sweet

(fem reader)

Walking into your and Chuuya's shared apartment after work is something you do every day. Sometimes, he's there. Other times, he's fighting with Mori at the Port Mafia.

Today, however, as you call out his name to check if he's there, you receive no response. Consequently, you assume he's on his way back and head to the bedroom.

Only to see your boyfriend of five months asleep on your shared bed.

With a very prominent boner.

You stare at him for a moment, head going a bit blank as you take in the sight in front of you. Messy hair is displayed over his peaceful face, work attire thrown lazily around the floor, only wearing a tank top and some gray sweats. That highlights every detail of his throbbing dick.

You set down your bag with furrowing, confused brows, kicking off your shoes as you make your way over to him, gently shaking his chest.

"Baby... Baby, please—wake up..." You mutter, head tilting when he only stirs a bit, rolling onto his back.

You don't know how to react to this. You've never had sex with him before... nor have you talked about it. It's never even been brought up. He loves you for you, the things you do, and the way you love him. He doesn't love you for your body, and he's made that clear from the get go.

But... Here he is—asleep on the bed, probably having a wet dream about you. What else are you supposed to do besides wake him up?

And that's what you do. Shaking him a bit more aggressively, he starts to open his eyes, his hands instinctively going to grab yours.

"H-hm? Baby... What time is-" he stops himself when he realizes what's going on. He immediately freezes, a shy smile spreading on his lips as he tries to get off the bed.

"I-if you excuse me, I, uh—I have something I need to take care of." He states in a rushed tone, trying to get up before you grab his shoulder, leaning in.

"Then why don't I help you with it?" You say, causing him and you to both freeze for a second. He didn't expect you to say something like that—and you didn't expect that from yourself either.

"What... What are you saying, princess?" He asks, breath hitching in his throat as he looks at you, eyes a bit wide.

"I mean..." You start, hands going to the hem of his pants slowly, looking for any signs of resistance. You see none.

"You have a problem, yeah?... Please, let me help you, Chuu." You whisper, eyes locking with his and switching between his lips and back up.

"Are you sure? You don't have to, i-if you're uncomf—"

"I'd give you the moon if it made you happy. I wanna do this, if you'll let me." You say softly, and you can practically hear how his heart melts from it. He sighs, hands falling onto yours as he helps you take off his pants. He doesn't say anything for a moment as they fall to his ankles, and then the floor, and his boxers soon following suit.

This is the first time you're seeing his dick—it's long. And thick. And the hair around it is perfectly trimmed, just beautiful. (Here I am, a lesbian talking about cocks.)

He looks away for a second, not knowing what to do—before you rip out a sudden gasp when you start to gently stroke his cock, pre-cum lubing up his length as you begin to go a bit faster, basking in the pretty sounds he's making for you, eyes closing and lips parting as he arches slightly.

You continue to stroke him, head tilting with a small grin, your free hand going to take off your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head and tossing it on the ground.

"That's it... You're being a good boy for me... Come on, don't be shy. You can be louder. Look me in the eyes."

He obeys, eyes half-lidded and eyebrows furrowing in delight, tongue sticking out slightly. "Baby, fuck–" He groans, trying desperately to hold eye contact with you.

"Tell me how you want it." You command, causing his dick to twitch and ache, hips buckling into your fist.

"I want it n-now." He says, hands reaching for the sheets as you start to pump your hand faster, causing broken and strained whimpers to leak from his mouth. As you speed up your hand, and he's about to cum, you suddenly stop, causing him to whine.

"Baby, why-" He gets cut off by you grabbing his hand and putting it on the waistband of your shorts, and he gets the hint.

Helping you to slide off your pants, his eyes widen when he sees the sight of your soaking panties, grabbing your waist and pulling up your shirt and bra.

He can only thank God for the beautiful woman he's blessed to have.

A beautiful woman who's now being slammed against the bed after getting fingered, face buried into the bed with loud and breaking moans.

"F-fuck!! Chuuya, Chuu, please!!"

You plead, not even knowing what your asking for anymore as his thick cocky bullies into your tight hole, ripping sweet and loud sounds from you. He grabs your hair when he speeds up, gently pulling on it and seeing how you squirm when he does.

"Oh, you like that, baby? That feel nice? Yeah? Huh... You're doing good, doll... Fuck, so good, it feels like heaven... Why did I wait this long to be inside you..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin is the main sound filling the room, along with his praises and your moans, grinding against your ass roughly.

Eventually, you both start to reach your peak, and he decides he'll deal with the consequences of his actions later and cums inside of you, you holding no denial to that.

After you've both had a minute to calm down, he falls down next to you, hands going to your wait lazily as he Whispersync sweet praises and thank you's.

This kinda sucks but I like it. Also don't mind the random image up their. ^

(Minors, do nit interact, it makes me uncomfortable. Do not repost, translate or slander my work, Fyodor's rats will gang up and beat the shit outta you if you try to.)

[kisseobie]

can you do piwons first reaction to seeing u naked 🥹🥹 i love ur work btw🫶🫶

p1harmony’s reaction to seeing you naked the first time

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: yes i can! sorry for getting to this so late :(

𓆉𓇼 keeho

definitely a hands on kind of guy, but his touch doesn’t work in silence! i imagine he’d want to undress you himself when you give him the news that you’re ready to enter the intimate stage of your relationship now. he’s kissing you throughout all of it, greedy hands unable to resist plucking off each article of clothing you adorn, one by one. for every piece of garment he pulls off of your body, he’s sweetly asking you “is this okay?”, and making eye contact with you so he can easily read any sign of discomfort in your eyes. once you’re finally bare for him to see, he’s definitely going to jump to kiss you everywhere. i think he’d be super sweet about it, especially when he’s lathering you in praises like “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen”.. after you two have had sex he’s giving you the sweetest treatment as aftercare, cleaning you up, feeding you, and then laying you down and thanking you for trusting him.. such a sweetie pie tbh! definitely prioritizes your comfort and pleasure, makes you feel safe enough to communicate any of your doubts or needs with him, he’s just such a perfect lover and in this scenario that’s no different <3

𓆉𓇼 theo

taeyang would probably be a little more handsy and a little less vocal. i think he’d be very eager, and would lose his composure a bit. in his head, when he fisted his cock to the imagination of being able to see and touch you bare, he always imagined himself as very dominant and collected, but when he actually is greeted with the sight of your naked frame, he’s hitching his breaths and losing his sanity. i think he’s the type to kiss you silly all over your body, paying special attention to your tits (theo tit lover forever!). would leave marks, and honestly worships your nude body with little pecks for a long enough time to be met with you impatiently maneuvering his mouth to line up with your pussy. he just wants to take his time with you when he first sees you naked, and although he doesn’t say much, his insistence to leave a kiss, lick, and bite mark on each and every spot of your skin is enough for you to understand how thankful he is for the sight. if you get shy from his gaze and try covering up with your hands, he’s pulling them away gently and looking at you in the eyes while saying “you’re so beautiful. don’t hide from me, please.” ….. I’M SO WEAK FOR HIM…

𓆉𓇼 jiung

so full of love and praise. ji is the type of boyfriend to be so cautious of your feelings when it comes to not only intimacy, but general confidence and body image as well. as a man with many boundaries, especially pertaining to physical touch, his biggest goal in a relationship is to never cross yours, in the same way you’re so cautious to cater to his. when you eventually gather up the level of trust and courage to reveal your bare self to him, his mouth is oozing with compliments that do nothing but encourage the pink dusting your cheeks. is so smiley and so lovestruck, it’s impossible to not feel confident and lusted after in front of him, he makes sure of it. is more of a groper than a kisser, because he’d rather occupy his mouth with words that tell you just how much he loves the sight in front of him :P if you strip in front of him the first time, he’s definitely gonna lean back on the bed frame, putting his hands over his head with a dopey grin on his face.. imagining black haired ji watching me like this oh i just creamed at the thought… and when he finally touches you? his calloused fingers would feel so good against your velvety skin..

𓆉𓇼 intak

personally i can see intak melting into slush the first time you decide to bless him with the sight of you, completely nude. is asking you right away if he can touch you, but not without stuttering a bit and shaking nervously. tak is such a good boy, and he, like jiung, would be very keen on worshipping your bare body from head to toe. i know i always write intak as a pussy eater—and he is!!—but in this specific scenario i can’t shake the idea from my mind of you, fully naked, smirking as you sit your knees in front of your boyfriend on your shared bed to suck him off. he’d probably lose his fucking mind. will absolutely pout at you if you deprive him the pleasure of feeling you up until you finally allow him to do so. if he knows you’re a bit shy or insecure about your body, he’s sure to snap out of his lovesick daze to properly convey how much this means to him, and how he get get used to this sight of you. he’s just so in love, and it’s evident in the way he physically cannot stop himself from trying to get closer to you, until your bodies are so close they seem almost connected as one.

𓆉𓇼 soul

i always write shota as perverted, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sweet! in fact, i think he’d be one of the sweetest ones out of the group, especially when you both decide to be intimate and you show him your bare body. he, like jiung, is very in tune with his own emotions, and understands how nervous and vulnerable you must feel when stripping in front of his eyes for the first time. if you hesitate a bit with the last piece of clothing, he’s looking up at you with big eyes and whispering “let me? please?” .. and how can you say no to him, especially when he’s being so kind? probably gasps out loud when he sees your pretty tits, and can’t help himself from reaching his hands out and kneading at the flesh. he’s very reassuring and makes sure to strip in front of you as well as soon as possible so you aren’t as embarrassed. shota probably would kiss you everywhere, from your eyelids to your ankles to your tummy. not very vocal but he hums into your skin a lot, the vibrations tickling you and making you giggle.. he’s so sweet about it and prioritizes your comfort over anything else :(

𓆉𓇼 jongseob

soooo fucking boyish and inexperienced. it’d be his first time ever seeing anyone but himself naked (porn and anatomy class excluded, obviously), and he wouldn’t know where to look. would be a bit afraid about making you feel uncomfortable, especially since he got hard embarrassingly quick. you’d have to take the reigns this first time, and i imagine you’d probably find his shyness to be really cute.. and if you toy with him a little and pull off your clothes realllll slow he’s whining out load and sweating profusely. once your bare you’d crawl onto his lap and he’d try to avert eye contact.. but kiss him and he’s kissing you back with so much want it’s a bit ridiculous. would break off the kiss to ask “can i please touch you?”, and if you responded with a yes, seob would waste no time in kissing your neck and pawing at your boobs. he’s panting so heavily you’d think he was the one being pleasured. when he descends his face and is eye-level to your cunt he’s practically drooling. wastes no time to devour you and figure out exactly what you like.. oh and please pull his hair, it would make him sob in pleasure :3

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @fayeloveseverything @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

꩜𓍯𓂃

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[muddyorbsblr]

ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.

"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."

He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."

You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"

"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Or kiss you.

"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[sunnyangy]

Can you maybe do hcs for togame and umemiya. Like general relationship hcs, how they came to like y/n, how they are in a relationship kind of thing and maybe nsfw hcs too

of course ! hope you’ll like it, and don’t hesitate to tell me if it’s ooc, i’ll change it :) I already did Umemiya NSFW hdc, but i’ll make another post for Togame’s NSFW hdc !

——————————————•

Relationship Headcanons 🍃

- Umemiya, Togame

- Umemiya 🌱

• The first time he saw you, was when Sakura had brought you up to his office. It was unusual to have a girl in this school, so when you started asking him too much advice, he got fed up and brought you to the leader, the famous Umemiya.

• He was since the start a sweetheart to you, greeting you with his usual bright smile. You seemed quite surprised to see that the leader was a man like this, with dirt on his shirt and gardening gloves. Of course, the first thing he did was showing you his tomatoes.

• But when you seemed to be interested in it, and to have some knowledge about it, he was like stunned in place, holding the tomatoes in his hands. He was probably as red as them.

• You then used to go to his office at lunch to talk with him about plants, share advice, and garden together. Every day, he waited for lunch more and more. He quickly realized he was more excited about seeing you than talking about the summer barbecue. His heart was pounding whenever you knocked on the door, the butterflies in his stomach flying around as he went to greet you.

• After around 3 months, one day you were as usual watering the plants, before putting back some soil. As you were filling your bucket up, you felt arms go around your waist, his body gently pressing against your back, his chin on your shoulder. It felt natural at this point, you just smiled and blushed at his contact. But what he said did in fact surprise you, as he said it with no warning whatsoever.

« I love you, y/n. »

You froze for a second, before setting your bucket down and turning towards him. Your answer was to put your hands on his cheeks, and kissing him.

• Since then, you two never leave each other.

• Umemiya’s love language is physical touch, he can’t resist just holding you in any type of way, even if it means touching your feet with his under the table if you’re in a group. He will always have an arm around you, a hand on yours, on your thigh, and if he can, he will always be kissing you in some type of way. On your lips, your cheeks, your temple, your forehead, your shoulder, whatever, as long as he can kiss you. He’ll always be hugging you and cuddling you, even if it’s not the time or place.

• He also comes to your house uninvited often, usually to gift you things or just to talk. He doesn’t mind if you do the same, but he takes the initiative way more.

• He is always very protective of you, he is sometimes reluctant to let you out on patrol, he’d rather you doing the not dangerous jobs like painting over graffiti’s.

• He likes to takes you out on dates often, bringing you to bars, restaurants, swimming pool, wherever you can have fun together.

• With you, he lets out his weirder side. He’s so energetic, always jumping around and smiling, always making jokes and annoying you teasingly.

• Of course, he loves PDA. He loves to show people that this beautiful girl right here is HIS, and that he is YOURS. All the school knows you’re the leader’s partner, everyone respects you and protects you.

• You’re the only one she shares his concern and bad emotions with, his past and what annoys him. You always try to give him a solution as well as calming him down, and you always succeed.

• Just like he says « Ko - to - ha ! », he will always come to you like this, chanting your name as he shows you something on his phone.

• Overall is the most golden retriever boyfriend ever, always clinging onto you, teasing you with a big smile on his face.

—————————————•

- Togame 🦁

• You’re not part of Shishitoren, as you are just a student working in a convenience store after school to pay your studies. And this store happens to be the one closer to the Shishitoren’s place, the abandoned cinema.

• They always came in groups, and you were kind of scared of them but always tried to stay polite and oblige their demands. But once, someone came alone, which was rather unusual. He was not wearing the orange vest, but you recognized him. A tall man dressing in a traditional kimono and wooden shoes, with yellow glasses and his black hair in a braid.

• He came back everyday, without his vest, buying drinks and snacks. At first he was always quiet, but after a while he started talking to you. Telling you Hi, how are you, talking about things like the weather or whatever was going on the city, just trying to make conversation. One day, as he was leaving, he turned back to you, and spoke.

« By the way, my name’s Jo Togame. Nice to meet you »

And before you even had the chance to answer, he waved you bye and left.

• After a month, he was once again at your counter, and bought a card. But when he left, he didn’t take the card. You tried to run after him to give it, but he already disappeared. You sighed and went back at your counter, putting the card on your desk. But when it slightly opened, you saw there was written something.

« If you want, you can meet me tomorrow at the new cinema at 8pm. I’ll let you choose the movie »

Even if he never told you personnaly, you knew he was part of the Shishitoren, so you were quite scared, but you judged that there was less chances to get beat up if you accepted his advances than refused. So you went. And it was the greatest date of your life. He was gentle and all throughout the night, bought you snacks, even taking you to the restaurant after the movie.

• For months, you two learned to know each other, before one day, he finally spilled it out.

« Hey y/n.. um.. I.. fuck you know what, I’m just going to say it. I’m part of the Shishitoren. »

You looked at his green eyes, slightly laughing. He was clearly confused on why you laughed, but you simply answered

« I know, Jo. »

• Since then you two grew close to each other naturally, he didn’t even ask you out. You just went onto dates, met each other after your shift, even before, and met on weekends.

• He loved that you saw him not for his affiliation to a gang but for his own person. You reminded him of Chōji, you reminded him of a sun. And you became his new sun.

• Togame’s love language is acts of service. He will always be doing things for you, making your life easier on whatever he could. He had a bit of trouble with physical touch but learned to appreciate it from you.

• He loves whenever he sits on the floor between your legs as you are on the couch, as you gently brush his hair as you hum a song. He loves the feeling of you braiding his hair, running your hands on his nape and shoulders.

• He likes gentle kisses filled with love, as it’s a rare time when he actually fully touches you, his hands on your hips pulling you close.

• He likes to tease you, pull some pranks on you, always laughing after. And you could never stay mad at him, his smile way too rare to ignore.

• He is REALLY protective of you, no one better lay a finger on you. He is also very possessive and jealous, you have to calm him down sometimes if even just a customer talks to you.

• He has trouble talking about his emotions but you always help him, he feels comfortable enough to talk to you about his worries. Sometimes, he’ll end up crying in your arms about how he felt guilty that he couldn’t help Chōji. The sight of him crying is rare, but it’s heartbreaking.

• He is overall a calm and supportive boyfriend, who loves to do things for you, and love when you help back. Other guys must beware, as he knows how to show his fangs if someone even approaches you.

[darnell-la]

heyyy :3 I was thinking too much about the patch variant!logan, All I can think of is reader getting fucked on a poker table, something with degradation and choking 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

note: Logan would’ve dealt with a thief in a different way then tonight, but he couldn’t resist y/n. He never could, and tonight was a perfect night to do what he’s been dying to do.

———

“What made you think you could still from me, Bub?” Logan asked as his guard brought her over to the man who hadn’t looked at her yet. He was busy counting money with the rest of the table.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I just needed extra money for rent this month,” y/n said, eyes stinging and heart raising. She swore she was careful, but now she was in front of her boss she had only seen a few times.

“Rent? I don’t pay you enough to cover that, hun?” The man asked. She was afraid to answer, but she had to. She didn’t know what he was capable of, but by how his work looked and how many stories she’d heard of people being terrified of him, she was terrified too.

“Yes — My rent went up a couple of months ago, and I don’t have time to work another job,” y/n explained herself, but he looked up phased by her son's story.

“And you ain’t care to ask me to raise your pay?” Logan asked, and she had, but she couldn’t dare ask. “I-I didn’t think of it,” y/n liked, and the man could tell. Hearing the way her heart stuttered was all he needed.

“Oh, but I think you did. You ain’t no dumb girl, now. I know that by how you tried to steal from me,” Logan said before he snapped his fingers, making the guard kick the back of her knees to force her to the ground.

“I just think you didn’t want to ask. Maybe too scared. Think I’d turn you down, which I would’ve, but I still would’ve taken care of you,”

Logan knows everyone who works for him, whether they know it or not. Y/n has been the only loyal and consistent one yet, and he admired that.

What he didn’t admire was how she thought she could take his money and live with life. He wasn’t a cruel man, but he had to teach her something.

“I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again. I-I promise,” y/n said as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ll make sure of it,” was all Logan said before he clapped his hands, causing everyone at the table to get up and make their way out.

“Leave her here — I’ve got her,” Logan said speaking to the guards, still not taking his eyes off the money he was counting. When the guard let y/n go, she rubbed her arm and shoulder where the guard at probably bruised her from how tight he had her in his grip.

“Stand up, you look ridiculous,” Logan said to the young girl, making her do as told. “When I hired you, I expected you to be more feisty,” Logan admitted, making her shake her head slowly.

“You’re my boss, sir,” y/n said, not wanting to get fired from the only job that pays her decently. “Do you have respect for me, princess?” Logan asked the girl as he got up. The way he towered over her, made her legs shake.

“Y-Yes, of course, I do, sir,” Y/n said, barely being able to keep eye contact. Any time she saw him, he looked good. She swore he gets more attractive with every interaction.

“Well, ain’t that so,” Logan stepped closer to y/n their bodies touched. “I like a girl who looks up to me. Don’t get much of them around these days — Especially a pretty little thing like you,”

Y/n looked down, too anxious to make eye contact, but that only egged his mind on further.

Logan lifted Y/n’s head with his finger under her chin until her eyes locked in his. She’s never been looked at like this before. She had no clue what to do.

“But taking my money wasn’t so respectful of you, princess. Might show you the consequences that come with disrespect,”

Logan’s other hand slightly gripped y/n’s waist, only making it more obvious how anxious she was. The shivering wasn’t hard to miss or feel from her.

“I’m sorry-“Y/n tried apologizing again, but this time, Logan shushed her as he placed a finger on her lips. “You’ll show me how sorry you are, Bub, don’t worry,” Logan spoke as he revoked his finger.

Y/n wanted to speak and ask the man what she had to do to show him how sorry she was, but she saw how the man leaned toward her before she could speak.

She pulled back, only a couple of inches by the time Logan’s hand wrapped around the back of her head just to grip and tug.

Y/n let out a small yell before her boss's lips fell onto her neck, licking and sucking in a spot she didn’t know could make her mind blank.

Logan groaned into the girl's neck as his hand on her hip pulled her body into his. Y/n wanted to push the man away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Instead, she moaned.

With that, Logan’s lips stopped on her skin. She felt the smirk he had across his lips. He had her within seconds, and she didn’t know it yet.

Before she knew it, Logan turned her around and forced her down on his poker table that he was just counting money on. The man moved all of his money out of the way before tracing his hands up and down her body.

“Gotta keep you to myself after this one, Bub?” Logan said as he touched every inch of her body that he could. “To damn pretty to ignore,”

Logan tugged on y/n’s waistband until he got her dance panties off. She was already exposed before, but now, he could see everything he was going to destroy.

Logan wasted no time sucking on his fingers, coating them in spit before sliding them past her folds. He curled instantly, making her feel a small purr in the lower end of her stomach.

“Wet little things been waitin’ for me, huh? What do you say?” Logan asked y/n, making her whine before she answered. “T-Thank you,”

“As much as I love the submission, I’m still upset about your actions,” Logan pulled out of y/n and forced her around and on her back. Y/n watched as he fumbled with his belt and pulled himself out.

“Sir-“ Before she could speak and tell him he would be too huge for her, he pushed her body back down by her neck, gripping hard and pinning her back onto the table.

“Don’t glätte me angry, Bub. You don’t wanna see that side of me,” Logan said as he shifted in between her legs. Y/n stayed silent since she in fact did not want to see him that way.

“Good girl — So damn obedient,” the man praised before his tip slipped past her folds. Y/n’s walls instantly clenched around him, making it hard for him to go further, but he managed.

“S-Sir,” y/n’s voice cracked as he broke completely past her folds, allowing his tip to graze her g-spot. “Don’t wanna hear it, Bub. I know for a fact you’ve taken cock before — Just look at you. Too pretty to not be a slut,”

Logan placed his free on y/n’s waist to grip down hard. He wanted to earn every noise possible out of her mouth tonight.

“You’re always the best-dressed dancer — You ain’t foolin’ me, Bub,” Logan said as he pounded into her cunt repeatedly. Y/n tapped on his wrist that was closest to her neck to tell him to loosen up, but there was no way he would. Why would he? She belonged to him, so he’d do whatever he pleased with her.

“Cunts so fuckin’ wet, I just know you fuck rich men in your job. Do you? C’mon, baby, I don’t get mad,” Logan lied, knowing he’d flip her right over and abuse her other hole.

“N-No, sir, I swear,” y/n choked on her whine. “Sure you don’t. Sure you don’t spread your legs just like this for a man with a bit of extra cash for you,” Logan kept going, but Logan knew she wouldn’t. He’s watched her private dances plenty of times to make sure of it.

“N-No, I don’t, sir,” y/n’s hands grabbed the man’s arms, trying to brace herself for what was about to come. “Such a good little thing,” Logan’s voice echoed through her head before she let loose all around him.

“That’s it, keep it comin’ and I might let you stay with me,” Logan said, knowing he was going to keep her whether she wanted to stay or not. Deep down, he knew she needed him in ways she hadn’t thought of yet.

“Gonna get this pussy every day after work, do you understand me? That’s all you’ll do. Please and sit on my lap like a pretty piece of candy,”

“O-Okay,” was all y/n could say. Her voice was low and broken. The way his grip tightened around her neck and his thrust sped up, made everything so much harder for her to do.

“Fuck, Bub,” was the last thing Logan before he felt his knees bucking. He wanted to last longer, but it was impossible with how good she looked, sound, and felt. He was keeping her with no doubt.

[echobx]

Damnit I tripped into your ask box again....

....

JJ bending you over the seat of his bike, in a more public setting. He gets on his knees for you and lifts your sundress up, yanks your panties off and eats you out.

....

or ya know whatever 🤷🏻🤭

summary: see ask

warnings: oral (fem receiving), talk of violence

word count: ≈500

author's note: omg this is so short 😭 I hope you like it anyway bc I think it's shit

“You didn't have to fucking do that,” JJ grunts while pushing you forward, practically dragging you in front of him through the parking lot. “She wanted to fuck you. I was defending you,” you argue with a sly smile, not seeing any issues with the fact that you’ve probably broken the girl's nose for putting her hands on your man. And usually JJ isn't against it either, but for some reason he’s angry with you now, and you can't figure out why. “That's not- You know that I don't care about them. I don't care how much she wanted to fuck me, because I don't want her. You know I don't want her. I only love you!” JJ’s words push your doubts, the jealousy you felt raging, to the back of your mind. “She was out of line,” you pout, and your boyfriend stops to pull you flush to his chest. His calloused, warm hands cup your jaw, pulling you up just enough for him to kiss you with ease. He knew of your temper before you got together, never finding any issues with it. “Want me to show you how much I love you and only you, princess?” The smirk on his lips should be a warning to you, but you can never tell him no. “Maybe you should. Yes,” you nod and let out a tiny squeal when he pulls you up and throws you over his shoulder to walk faster. There's not much to complain about when his hand, that is holding onto you, is slipping up and rests under your dress, right on your ass.

JJ has never been one to keep things private, but the fact that he puts you down on his bike and immediately pulls your slip down was something new. You are out in the open. Visible to anyone who wants to walk by. But he still drops to his knees in front of you and starts to eat you out, while you try your best to stay on top of the bike. While you try to not scream when his lips close around your clit and his fingers curl inside your tight cunt. With your head thrown back, you hope no one sees you. You hope no one calls the cops, but even if they did, you know it would be more than worth it. And JJ is giving you his best, licking, sucking, biting; anything and all you like, all while his knees are on the hot pavement. Your hand comes down on his head, fingers raking through his locks and tugging harshly to tell him you're close. But JJ doesn't want to stop. He eats you out as if he's starved, craving every single drop of cum that you grant him. “JJ, please- Home,” you pant, and he decides that it's best to stop and resume as soon as you get home. But just because it's the logical choice to make, doesn't mean it's the one he wants to make. And at that moment, he knows why you broke that girl's nose. Impulses are hard to resist, after all.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimocarz

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

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