#edit: TY FOR ALL THE LOVE HERE ..!!! <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magic-shop-stories · 4 months ago

Note

hello! i just found your blog, i loooooove the way u write yoongi! could i request yoongi x f!reader boyfriend headcanons? just this, ty in advance!

💌 Reply:

Thank you SO MUCH for this request! 💜 Writing Yoongi is always a joy. Hope this hit all the right notes for you! Let me know which part made you giggle, scream, or melt. And as always, thanks for trusting me with your delulu dreams. I think Yoongi would 100% judge us, but he’d secretly love it.

BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

↳YOONGI (SUGA) × FEM!READER

~ CONTENT WARNING FOR SECOND PART OF THE POST ~ MATURE THEMES | (extra warning in the post)

Possessive behavior

Suggestive themes

Mild NSFW references (kissing, intimacy)

Jealousy Proceed mindfully!

DAILY RHYTHM

Mornings

Night Owl Realness

he’s never awake before 10 AM unless forced by schedules

you’ll find him passed out face-down in bed

one arm slung over your waist (possessive octopus)

his alarm?

a grumbled “Five more minutes…” muffled into the pillow

followed by hissed “새끼…” (“Damn it…”) when reality hits

Quiet Rising

if he wakes first (rare), he’ll slip out of bed like a ghost

careful not to jostle his bad shoulder

returns 20 minutes later with (decaf) iced americano

your favorite placed silently on your nightstand

Breakfast (Sort Of)

he doesn’t "cook"

he assembles

haphazard charcuterie board of convenience store finds

triangle kimbap, yogurt...

sliced apples arranged in a half-hearted star

leaves a note: “Eat. Don’t die.”

Post-Wakeup Rituals

Lap Cat Energy

you find him in his studio

hoodie hood up (glasses askew)

he’ll grunt “Come here” without looking up

patting his thigh

you sit sideways on his lap

legs draped over the chair arm

his right hand stays on his mouse

his left absently plays with your hair

fingertips brushing your scalp in a rhythm matching his beat

Tugging

if you try to leave too soon, he hooks a finger in your waistband or sleeve

“Where you going? I didn’t say you could move.”

voice rough but eyes soft

Shoulder Check

notice him rolling his left shoulder? = a wince he’d deny

“Yoongi, your...” “I’m fine...”

slip a heating pad onto his chair

he doesn’t thank you

his next track samples the crinkle of the pad and your sigh

Coffee & Conversations

Decaf Devotee

sips his americano with a grimace

“Caffeine’s for rookies.”

call him out:

“You’re just paranoid about shaking during recording.” he side-eyes you: “…Maybe.”

when you rant about work, he listens while staring at his screen

you think he’s ignoring you?

he mutters: “Tell your boss to eat shit. Nicely. Or don’t. I’ll write a diss track.”

his advice is always a threat wrapped in a shrug

Midday Moments

Nap Trap

doze off on the couch?

he drapes his favourite blanket over you

wakes you by poking your cheek

“Hey. You’re drooling on my merch.”

just wants attention

Catlike Coexistence

he works; you read

no talking for hours

just the hum of his work and your pages turning

occasionally, he’ll toss a grape at your head

“You alive over there?”

Nighttime

Pre-Bed Grump

2 AM, he’s still coding beats

drag him to bed!!!

“Yoongi. Now.”

grumbles but follows

leaning his forehead against your back in the dark

“…Could’ve finished that bridge.”

Sleeping Style

curled on his right side (bad shoulder elevated)

arm slung over your waist

if you shift, he pulls you closer

sleepy “쳇…” (“Tsk…”)

breath warm on your neck

KEY DIALOGUE

when you nag him to hydrate:

“You’re worse than my manager.”

catch him nodding off mid-edit, glasses crooked

“I’m not cute. Shut up.”

his version of “I miss you.” :

“Come here. Now.” (not a request)

COMMUNICATION

TEXTING STYLE

7 AM: “ㅋ”

translation: “I’m awake. Suffering. Think of me.”

3 PM: Spotify link to “First Love” by Utada Hikaru

no context

midnight: “Come home.”

you’ve been in the next room for hours

Notes

scribbles lyrics on receipts

leaves them in your coat pockets

“Your laugh, B-flat minor. Unreleased.”

PET NAMES

calls you “aggressively average” in public

“야” (Ya) / “너” (Neo) = simple, blunt (default)

translates to: “Hey, you.”

bonus points if he tacks on “-아”

when annoyed: “야-아!”

“멍청이” (Mongcheongi) = “Dummy.”

delivered with a smirk

when you trip over something: “Classic 멍청이 move.”

privately, it’s “my little disaster"

always in Korean

always when you’re half-asleep

“꼬마” (Kkoma) = “Little one.”

used when you’re sick or crying

grumbles into your hair

hands awkwardly patting your back

“고양이” (Goyangi) = “Kitten”

reserved for sleepy mornings when you nuzzle into his chest

“고양이… 너무 떨어져.” (Kitten… quit clinging)

he does not let go

CURSING (HIS LOVE LANGUAGE)

Worried Curses

come home late

he’s pacing

hoodie zipped to his chin

“씨발… 12 missed calls. You trying to kill me?”

pulls you into a crushing hug

sees you struggling with a suitcase?

"Damn it, just give it"

carries it up five flights

collapses on the couch

“…Never moving again.”

Flustered Curses

wear that dress

he stares too long

spills his americano

“…씨발.”

avoiding eye contact (not for long tho)

you know his gaze? like in the weverse live? THAT!

“Change. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

MUTTERINGS (UNFILTERED & UNBOTTLED)

Annoyed Affection

“Why are you so bothersome…"

when he fixes your phone charger (again)

“Ha… wanna die?"

when you steal his fries

pushes the plate closer to you

Sleep-Soft Confessions

half-asleep, face buried in your neck:

“…넌 내 거야.” (You’re mine)

followed by a huff

if you acknowledge it: “I was dreaming. Shut up.”

after nightmares (his or yours), voice gravelly:

“It’s okay. Let’s lie down."

HIDDEN POETRY (FOR YOUR EARS ONLY)

Lyric Leaks

overhear him mumbling into his voice memos

“Her laughter... G major, sustain pedal down.”

when confronted, he snaps: “It’s not about you.” (it is)

find a crumpled note in his jacket:

“Her anger: A minor 7th. Still prettier than my best chords.”

Satoori Slips

stress unlocks his Daegu dialect

he’ll sigh:

"I’m dead tired"

leans his head on your shoulder

"Your hair smells good."

ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER

Overprotective Tendencies

mention a creepy DM? next day, your Instagram is mysteriously set to private.

“Don’t look at me. Blame Joon’s ‘internet safety’ phase.” (lying)

Passive-Aggressive Love

complain about your slow Wi-Fi?

come home to a $2,000 router installed

“It was on sale.” (It wasn’t)

Services

you’re sick?

he’ll DoorDash three kinds of soup

pretends he “accidentally” ordered too much

“Just pick one. The rest can rot.”

reheats the leftovers for you later

VULNERABLE MOMENTS (CUTS DEEP, HEALS DEEPER)

When You’re Hurt

sees you crying?

says nothing, just pulls you into his lap

chin resting on your head

hours later, he’ll rasp: “Who did it?"

translation: “Give me a name. I’ll end them.”

after a fight?

he’ll slam a peppero box on the table

“Here. Sugar helps… or whatever.”

your favorite flavor

drove to three stores

Drunk Truths

tipsy on soju

he’ll trace your jawline

“넌… 내 비트 같아.” (You’re… like my beat.)

ask what that means?

“Without you, the song’s empty. Happy? Now drink.”

UNEXPECTED SOFTNESS

Shoulder Secrets

his bad shoulder acts up?

he still carries your groceries

“I’m fine. Drop it.”

later, you find him icing it

muttering “Fuckin’ hero complex…”

Period Protocol

preemptive strike

tracks your cycle like a NASA mission

stocks the fridge with chocolate

heat pads

your weird cravings

“Don’t ask. Just… take what you need.”

Foot Massages

curled in bed, cramping?

he wordlessly pulls your feet into his lap

thumbs digging into your arches

“You’re tense as fuck.”

you moan?

he smirks “Not the time”

Bad Day Rituals

comes home to find you crying?

silently orders fried chicken

sits on the floor with yo

feeding you bites

lets you wear his favourite hoodie for weeks

“Return it when you’re done being a gremlin.”

buys a duplicate so you never have to

FIERCE LOVE

Defending Your Honor

Karen insults you at the grocery store?

he “accidentally” rams her cart with his

“Oops. Should’ve seen you there… ma’am.”

practiced that line in the mirror

Sacrifices

gives you his expensive headphones during a flight

“Take them. I don’t care.”

spends the trip white-knuckling the armrest

tortured by a crying baby

COLD FRONT

Silent Treatment Master

when hurt, he retreats into a glacial calm

answers in monosyllables

eyes fixed on his screen

“Fine.” “Whatever.” “Do what you want.”

you’d prefer yelling?

this icy detachment is worse

Playful Insults Gone Wrong

joked about his “grandpa music taste” during dinner?

he stiffens, chopsticks clattering

“…At least I don’t listen to nursery rhymes.”

later, you find him scrubbing dishes aggressively

muttering about “disrespect”

his playlist? Full of your Disney favorites

NEGLECTED NIGHTS

Overwork Blinders

he’s been in the studio for 72 hours?

show up with dinner = he doesn’t look up

“Not hungry.” snap: “You’ll die before you finish that track!” he smirks. “Already dead. Ghosts work faster.”

Breaking Point

turn off his monitor mid-session?

he slams his fist, voice shaking

“You think this is a game? I’m building a future.” fire back: “Future’s empty without us!”

he storms out

returns at 3 AM with tangerines (both your comfort fruit) and a USB drive labeled “Track 13: Sorry.”

GIFTS

(NOT YOUR GRANDMA’S ROMANCE)

Practical Pampering

forget roses.

gifts you custom ergonomic keyboard after noticing wrist pain

“Don’t thank me. Just stop typing like a grandma.”

keys are programmed to flash “DUMBASS” if you type past midnight

Sentimental Sleuth

finds your childhood Tamagotchi in a thrift store

resurrects it, feeds it for weeks, then hands it over

“It’s on life support. Your problem now.”

Lingerie? Please... (mostly tho)

buys you noise-canceling headphones

“So you’ll shut up about the neighbors.”

you’ve never mentioned the neighbors aloud (he just knows)

PRETENDS TO HATE SHOPPING

Reluctant Mule

drag him to a flea market

he complains about “dust mites” and “overpriced garbage"

carries your bags without a word

“Hurry up. I’m not your butler.” (he is)

Secret Splurges

catches you eyeing a vintage leather jacket

“Too expensive. Let’s go.”

returns the next day to buy it

leaves it on your bed with a note: “Don’t ruin it.”

Fashion Critic (Liar)

try on a frilly dress

“You look like a cupcake.”

later, texts Jin: “Hyung, where do you get those stupid ... she likes?”

HATES WHEN YOU GET DRUNK

(BUT LOVES YOU MORE)

Gruesome Guardian

catches you tipsy at a party (clinging to a giggling band member)

his jaw clenches

" Let’s go.” (“We’re fucked…”)

throws you over his good shoulder like a sack of rice

ignoring your slurred protests

deposits you on the couch

forces water and aspirin into your hands

“Drink. Or I’ll IV it into you.”

Morning-After Mercies:

wakes you with haejangguk (hangover soup), extra kimchi

“Eat. You look like death.”

when you groan, he smirks

“Next time, stick to soju. At least I can carry that.”

Secret Worry

texts your friends preemptively:

“Keep her at 2 drinks. Or I’ll end you.” Jungkook replies: “Hyung, she’s a grown...” “Try me.”

FAMILY GHOSTS

Dad’s Shadow

mention wanting kids?

he freezes

“I won’t be like him. Ever.”

later, he researches parenting books

leaves one on your nightstand:

“Raising Kids Without Being a Dick.”

Mom’s Voice

calls her weekly

Satoori thickening

hear him whisper, “Mom, she… eats well."

MARRIAGE

(UNLIKELY PROPOSAL)

Fight

jokingly call him a “commitment-phobe” after he dodges yet another wedding invite

he snaps

“Marriage is a corporate merger. Why the fuck would I want that?” retaliate: “Then stop acting like my CEO!”

Ring

he buys it six months prior

a minimalist platinum band etched with “Agust D” lyrics in Morse code

hides it in his guitar case, where you “accidentally” find it

“It’s not... ugh. Just take it.”

Proposal

after a brutal argument about his workaholism

he slams a USB drive on the table

a track titled “Forever (feat. You)” with a voice memo:

“Marry me. Or don’t. I’ll still be here.”

FATHERHOOD = THE GREAT TERROR

Panic

mention wanting kids?

he freezes mid-bite

“…We can’t even keep plants alive.”

buys a cactus, names it “Baby Jungkook” (it dies)

Test Run

fosters a three-legged cat

calls her “Practice"

lets her sleep on his studio chair

“If she survives me… maybe.”

she thrives

he cries when she’s adopted

Revelation

catches you watching a toddler giggle at his concert VLive

mutes the video

“…They’d have your laugh. Maybe that’s… okay.”

ARGUMENTS & FEARS

Fight

you suggest baby names

h scoffs

“We’re not naming a kid ...” snap: “It’s tradition in my family!”

he storms out

returns with a list of “acceptable” names (all Korean, all unisex)

Fear

find him researching “How Not to Screw Up Your Kid” at 3 AM.

“You’re not your dad,” you whisper he slams the laptop “…I know. Doesn’t make it easier.”

THE ARRIVAL

Pregnancy

pretends indifference but learns prenatal massage techniques

“I’m just relieving tension. For me.”

secretly records your belly to sample kicks into a lullaby

Birth Day

stoic until the first cry

then collapses in the hallway

sobbing into Jin’s shoulder

“Hyung, what if I...” “You’ll be great. Now go hold your kid.”

First Night Home

stays awake

baby on his chest

humming “Sweet Night” off-key

texts the group chat:

“She has your nose. And my rage. Send help.”

~ CONTENT WARNING ~

MINORS DNI | NSFW | SPICY INTIMACY/PHYSICALITY AHEAD

doesn’t include explicit descriptions of sexual acts

contains: possessive themes, sensual language, suggestive scenarios, jealousy, explicit intimacy/kissing,suggestive content, kink mentions (marking, power dynamics), body worship, (feral Yoongi™)

PHYSICALITY/INTIMACY

Possessive Holding

his hands are always on you in public

thumb hooked in your back pocket

palm splayed possessively over your thigh at dinner

at home, it’s worse:

pins you against counters

forehead resting on your shoulder like a feral cat marking territory

mutters “Mine” into your skin

breath hot

Jealousy

silent but deadly

catches a coworker flirting with you?

says nothing

later, he’s suddenly shirtless in the kitchen

flexing while making ramen

“What? It’s hot in here.” (AC is blasting)

Staring

watches you while you read

eyes tracking the way you bite your lip

“What?” you ask “Nothing,” he lies

clicking his pen like a metronome

SECRETLY LOVES YOUR SEXY OUTFITS (BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT)

Possessive Glances

wear a backless dress

he hovers all night

hand resting on the exposed skin like a human shawl

growls at anyone who looks too long

“Eyes up, fucker.”

Backhanded Praise

“That skirt’s impractical.”

later, finds him staring at your Instagram post in his studio

saves it to a hidden folder labeled “Inspo.”

Late-Night Honesty

after sex, he’ll trace the strap of your lingerie

voice rough

“…Keep this. But don’t wear it outside. Or do. I’ll just kill someone.”

TOUCH

Electric Prelude

his hands speak first

calloused fingertips skimming your jawline

thumb brushing your bottom lip

maps your skin like a composer tracing sheet music

lingering on pulse points (wrist, throat, inner thigh) to memorize your rhythm

Possessive Anchors

palm splayed against your lower back pressing you closer

fingers tangled in your hai tugging just enough to tilt your head

Aftercare Rituals

post-passion, he traces idle patterns on your hip

his touch lingers on scars, birthmarks, stretch marks

“Proof you’re real,” he mutters, as if convincing himself

KISSES

Slow Ignition

starts with closed-mouth presses to your temple, knuckles, the corner of your lips

testing, teasing

when you gasp, he smirks

“Impatient.”

Tongue Technology

deep but controlled,

push-and-pull of heat and restraint

his tongue flicks the roof of your mouth

steals your breath

leaves you dizzy

“Breathe,” he growls, not letting you

Hidden Softness

after fights, his kisses are apologetic

chaste pecks to your eyelids, nose, scars

“Sorry… sorry…” breathed like a prayer

PACE

Deliberate

prefers slow

almost maddening build-up

takes hours to undress you

mouth exploring every inch before letting you fall apart

“You’ll take what I give you,” he warns

eyes dark

Feral Surges

when jealousy or adrenaline strikes, he’s relentless

pinning you against walls

biting your shoulder

“Mine. Say it.”

POSITIONS

Missionary, Modified

your legs hooked over his bad shoulder

his left hand gripping the headboard for leverage

“Don’t hide,” he orders

watching your face unravel

Cowgirl Command

lets you take control

hands squeezing your hips

“Show me what you need.”

the moment you falter, he flips you

“My turn.”

PREFERENCES

Lighting

pitch dark or candlelit

claims he “hates distractions,”

catch him staring at your silhouette in the shadows

Soundtrack

your whimpers

his name gasped like a curse

demands “Louder,”, then covers your mouth

“Too loud.”

Kinks

Marking

leaves bruises where only he can see

inner thighs, under collarbones

“So you remember who you belong to.”

Power Play

lets you bind his wrists with his own belt

then breaks free

“Cute. But I’m still in charge.”

ROUNDS

Quality > Quantity

one meticulous, earth-shattering

wear his hoodie the next morning

he’ll corner you in the kitchen

“You’re asking for it.”

Dawn Encores

wakes you with his mouth between your thighs

voice sleep-rough

“Don’t act surprised. You knew I wasn’t done.”

FAVORITE SPOTS

Neck-to-Shoulder Junction

bites here to hear you yelp

soothes it with his tongue

Behind Your Ear

whispers filth in Korean

grinning when you shiver

“You understood that, didn’t you?”

Inner Wrists

kisses your veins like they’re holy

“Every heartbeat’s because of me.”

TRIGGERS

Begging

“Please, Yoongi..."

cuts you off with a snarl

“Not yet.”

Competence

take charge, riding him ruthlessly

he lets you

until he doesn’t

“Fuck… okay, okay...”

flips you mid-stride

Vulnerability

tears during aftercare

crushes you to his chest

voice breaking

“I’ve got you. Always.”

BONUS

“I Don’t Do PDA”

except when he does

drags you into empty alleyways to kiss you senseless

“Someone could see...” “Let them.”

“I’m Not Cute”

posts a selca of you both

your face visible

his obscured by a heart emoji

caption: “#NoFilter"

ARMY notices his left pinky curled around yours

trends for days

436 notes · View notes

wincore · 6 months ago

Text

I faked my engagement for free cake samples and got sued after I ran away AIO | haechan

pairing: haechan x baker!reader

genre: comedy, fluff, rivals (?) to lovers (?)

warning(s): quite possibly you will be inflicted with cringe, shameless scamming, mild swearing, one (1) innuendo

words: 5.4k

song recs: santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, too late for chocolate? by kana hanazawa, like a raspberry by 宇宙ネコ子, honey by kara

a/n: ty to my queens lana and cat for gassing up this dumpster fire i wrote in a caffeine haze while watching my bf die every 20 secs in ds3. the initial plot was going to be far longer and more fleshed out but i fear i'm past my prime ( ._. )" i still hope you guys have fun with this one!! i got to play around with hallmark comedy far more this time, so overall it was a fun time writing <3 happy new year, my lovely mooncakes!!

part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab <3

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 3h

I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

I (24F, small bakery owner) faked my engagement to get free cake samples at my rival bakery but the employee said I needed my fiance to be there. I panicked and grabbed the first guy to come through the bakery door after me. Turns out he’s not just some random customer. To top it off, he was ridiculously attractive even though he pissed me off every two sentences. I had a panic attack, told myself it’s totally not my fault, and moved on by baking fourteen cakes over the weekend. I thought I got away with it, but three days later, I got an email from him—he’s now suing me for “emotional damages” and “theft of pastries.” Am I doomed, or is this just karma with extra frosting?

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 2,701 Comments

bun_theory0222 • 2h

INFO: Did you at least try the samples? Were they worth the lawsuit? We’re all dying to know here.

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.2k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h

nah cuz why is he suing when he CLEARLY wants to flirt??? this man is embarrassing but so are you. somebody matched ur freak <3

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m

YTA why can’t this shit happen to me. AT LEAST I would commit to the bit.

➥ Reply ⥣ 420 ⥥

cerealfordinner0323 • 2h

Bro sued you just to slide into your life again. He’s not slick, and neither are you. Good luck with that wedding cake.

➥ Reply ⥣ 9,011 ⥥

. . .

If you could hop a few steps to the right, feign unconsciousness, and climb right into the active fireplace, it could potentially make everything okay. For you, that is. Not for the poor bakery employees who would have to call the cops.

“I’m sure he’s a handsome one!” The girl behind the counter giggles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “You’re- you’re so gorgeous!”

Setting aside the fact that most gorgeous women you know end up with malformed gargoyles, your current predicament is almost equally sinister. What started as an innocuous process to gain free wedding samples (in other words, a scam) has led to a question that should be obvious but completely escaped your mind following your trailing success.

“We’ll need to have you come in with your fiance for the free wedding cake samplers. Is he around?”

Is he around?! Boy, you sure hope so. Because now you’re also frantically looking around with the employee after you blurted out another lie: “He’s going to be here soon!”

When did you turn into a compulsive liar? You’re not sure if your mom would be proud of you for being so good at nabbing free food, or disappointed that you’re a filthy liar. After all, she did tell the buffet employees you were under 10 all the way till you were 14. So, really, you’re not the source of the problem! You brush your festive red skirt of invisible crumbs, trying to busy yourself.

The cafe itself is well decorated for Christmas—a silver reindeer bores holes into your head from by the front door, a small Christmas tree stands at the center that’s a little emaciated but the cute Sanrio ornaments in Santa hats make up for it, and most importantly, a beautiful Mont Blanc cake sparkles from atop the glass counter. (Seriously, why didn’t you think of this? Your own bakery is all sparkles and no play.)

You move out of the way of other customers, and casually glance at the source of your awe and joy. Powdered sugar dusts the top as idyllic snow, covering the sugared cranberries and sugared chestnuts, not dent in them under the white fondant star. The base of the cake is tied with an edible red ribbon, completing the seasonal aesthetic of it. A sigh rests momentarily upon your lips before it escapes.

You love Mont Blanc cakes, but you never quite get it right. That’s your biggest failure as an up-and-coming baker, and such is the reason for your unhinged serial sampling scam. You swear it started off as a search for inspiration in a creative rut but before you knew it, a lie had spilled from your eclair-sweetened lips, and another, and another.

It is at this point that you briefly consider bolting for the door. Tibet is great around this time of the year. Maybe if you convert to a monk lifestyle and atone for your sins, you’ll be granted a pardon in the form of delicious sweets. Before you can make your escape, however, the front door jingles, and in strides a sight unbelievably reassuring. A man with caramel hair enters, who might as well be wrapped in a giant red ribbon and seated atop a snow-white horse in golden ornaments.

It’s a Christmas miracle. Hallelujah! They still apply to you.

His smile—soft and sweet as meringue hearts—lights up the room as he inhales the warm, sugary air of the bakery. You’re hit with the vaguest sense of familiarity. He might be one of the few customers you get these days. For a moment, you falter. Are you really going to victimize this stranger?

Yes. Yes, you are. The situation is dire.

“Hi darling!” You exclaim within earshot of the employee, before lowering your voice. “Could you help me out a little here?”

The man blinks, dazed for whatever reason. “Uh… sure?”

“Okay, then follow along and ask questions later,” you reply, and loop your arm through his gingerly. The touch of his fuzzy winter coat makes you relax a little. It is chocolate-colored, with beige fluff around the collar. Not now, you think to yourself, You need to stop thinking about sweets for one goddamn moment.

“Here he is,” you laugh sheepishly as you bring the man forward. Gosh, what in the heavens are you doing? You didn’t even ask his name.

The employee stares, jaw agape. What’s with the reaction? He’s not that hot.

“O-oh,” she responds. “That’s quite the surprise. I never knew. Congratulations, sir!”

You turn to look at him. He simply scratches his chin with a sheepish smile, and manages to respond with a “Thanks, Kimi.”

He must be a regular, you think. Oh, (Name), what did you get yourself into? You’re just gonna have to read his name off his coffee order first.

“We have a selection of samples for our wedding cake choices,” the girl, Kimi, moves to the far side of the counter, offering a small menu card to the two of you. “I know you’re not a big fan of wedding cakes, Mr. Lee, but the latest tiramisu flavors should suit your tastes, no?”

Just how close are they?! You chew on your lip and try to calm your depraved little heart.

“Well,” he responds, thinking for a second, “I actually hadn’t thought this far. What do you think, honey?”

He turns to you with a radiant smile, but you sense a hint of mischief. You don’t have time to think of that though—so you just change the topic.

“Actually, do you have a Mont Blanc flavor? I’ve always had trouble perfecting it myself.”

Truth be told, that ‘honey’ had flowed from his lips and struck you straight in the heart. He’s not too bad to look at, you think now. His tousled hair catches the light with a playful sheen, framing his face and accentuating his disbelieving smile, while his fluffy coat adds a cozy touch to his charming, boyish demeanor. If you were to overthink a little, you’d find a hint of mischief in his voice. Alas, you’re a simple girl who only overthinks sweet treats, not boys.

“You bake?” He blurts, before his ears turn red from realization.

Kimi shoots him a puzzled look and your breath hitches in your throat. Was the miracle an idiot in disguise?

“I mean, uh, gosh, you make me so nervous, honey.” He looks like he’s trying his very best to ace an exam he never studied for. “I meant to ask if you're going to bake.. today? Don’t look at me like that.”

Maybe you should’ve picked a candied apple and prayed that a witch had poisoned it. You can’t even force out a smile at that pathetic save.

“You’re a lucky man, Mister,” Kimi jabs, a look of distrust in her eyes before they flash to you. “I’m afraid Miss (Name) in a wedding dress would make me drop dead at the altar.”

“Oh, you- you flatter me,” you choke out, “I promise you wedding gowns aren’t my thing at all. Besides, you’d look beautiful in white yourself.”

Why is she so into this wedding conversation? How close are these two? You’re not sure how to react, and neither do you know how this man is going to explain your mysterious disappearance the next time he visits the bakery. You’re sure as hell not going to continue the act beyond this. It’s time you retired from this scam business. You’re not even sure how you’ll talk your way out of this with the man, currently engaged in small talk with Kimi.

And— is he blushing?! Does he have something going on with the girl—Kimi? Did you just ruin something? Your heart tightens a little, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to the floor, head in your hands.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. When you open your mouth, you are interrupted.

“Actually, Miss, I think I take back what I said about the handsome part,” Kimi jokes, evident disdain sent towards Donghyuck.

Your natural response is a little laugh that leaves before you know it. Maybe, the feelings you sensed were of unrequited resentment. He does have the kind of face that looks like it’s often smacked by girls. No offense to him.

Kimi hands you the first sample (two delicious slices of Mont Blanc) and excuses herself to fetch the rest. The two of you make your way to a booth with the heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced. You might as well be at a funeral.

“So… free samples are that good, huh?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“I’m Donghyuck, by the way,” he responds with a youthful laugh. “Might I have the honor of knowing my fiance's name?”

“(Name). And stop looking at me like that.”

He lets out a short breath.

“You know, maybe we should’ve pretended it was an arranged marriage.”

“Quite proficient in the scamming business, are you?”

“Oh, you’re better off not knowing my dirty secrets.”

You couldn’t care less about his secrets but the look you shoot at him is certainly dirty.

He opens his mouth but you interrupt him to absolve yourself first. “Listen, I don’t do this often. And I’ll have you know it’s nothing personal. Well, not against you. The owner of this place maybe.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all for being a hater with my fiance.”

You stare at him, not impressed.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, so this started a month or two ago. I had been working tirelessly, testing recipe after recipe, trying to perfect the Mont Blanc cake. It was my dream to make it iconic, you know? But before I could even settle on the perfect combination of flavors, some smug bastard opens a bakery right across from me. And what does he have as his specialty? Why, the Mont Blanc cake of course. Seasonal! Cute, elaborate new decor every two weeks! Just how rich is he? I bet he doesn't even bother to create his own recipes. This guy didn’t just steal my idea, he’s turned my passion into some overpriced, generic trend!”

You heave, tired from the onslaught of frustration. Chewing on your lower lip, a pout naturally makes its way onto your face, and so do more complaints.

“And that’s not all, okay? I never see him at the bakery. I refrain from entering my competitors' establishments unless I greet them in person. But this asshole is just never there! What, is he too good to work at his own bakery? Too good to grace us lowly bakers with a visit? How could he just swoop in and steal my signature item?”

Donghyuck listens to your rant with intent, cheek resting against his palm. He even looks a little ridiculously charmed right now.

“Wait… so you’re the infamous Free Cake Phantom everyone’s talking about?” He gasps.

You’ve finally turned to your poor, neglected Mont Blanc sample, just for your heart to jump out. “What?”

“Just kidding. Your secret is safe,” he says, digging into the cake with infuriating nonchalance. “But hey, you’ve got good taste. This Mont Blanc though? It’s my personal recipe.”

Your fork halts halfway to your mouth. “Your recipe? What, you work here or something? And, no offense, but it’s overwhipped.”

If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny. The man looks more like a confectionary than a confectioner. There’s no way he works here. He’s probably some jobless guy drifting from bakery to bakery on early Saturday mornings.

His jaw drops. “Overwhipped? Are you kidding me?”

You wave the fork at him like it’s a weapon. “Chestnut puree shouldn’t have the texture of mousse. It’s called finesse, Mr. Lee.”

Before he can respond, Kimi returns with another tray, and you slip back into character, placing your hand on Donghyuck’s. “Thank you,” you coo at her. “I can’t wait to share all these flavors at our wedding.”

Donghyuck stiffens slightly at the unexpected contact, but he recovers quickly, plastering on the fakest grin known to man. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Kimi laughs. “You’re such a lovely couple. When’s the big day?”

You freeze, and so does Donghyuck. For a moment, neither of you has an answer.

“Oh, we’re still, uh, deciding,” you blurt, glancing at him for backup.

“Yeah, we’re thinking spring,” he adds smoothly. “Cherry blossoms. Very romantic.”

“Y-yes. Maybe the Raspberry Rose should be in the winner’s spot then.”

As Kimi bows politely and walks away again, Donghyuck leans in to whisper. “Should I book the honeymoon now, or…?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs.

He makes a pained sound, but recovers quickly.

The second flavor is dubbed “Marble Eclipse”, a decadent blend of rich chocolate and vanilla, perfectly balanced with a luscious buttercream frosting. You try to focus on the taste, but Donghyuck’s smug grin as he watches you take a bite is more distracting than you’d like to admit. You’re not easily flustered, not by men. Unfortunately, he would have been the exact type you’d have tried to nab in college.

You shake your head. Focus, (Name), you think to yourself, You’re in the enemy’s lair right now!

“So… I might as well come clean,” Donghyuck says with a serious tone, right after you’ve taken a bite. You pause in horror. What arcane knowledge is he going to use for your humiliation this time?

“I visit your bakery often, and I must say your selection is just as good, if not better.”

You exhale.

“Oh, it’s better alright,” you retort, before realizing the unwarranted passion in your voice. You compose yourself. “I mean, maybe their Mont Blanc is… a solid competitor.”

Donghyuck laughs, clearly amused by the bashfulness on your face.

“Wait, are you patronizing me?”

“Of course not!” He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“I think the difference is that this one keeps up with the youth.” He waves his fork about, explaining his point further. “Everyone loves new, shiny things. Cycle those as much as possible. Have you ever considered holding blind box events with your cupcakes? I’m sure the kids would love to find out which flavor of panda bear cupcake they got—matcha, my personal favorite, or coconut cream, or… god forbid, chocolate mint. Ugh. Have you considered removing that from the menu? Anyway, that shouldn’t take too much time and money, right?”

The youth? What is he, forty? However, however, the look on his face as he describes your own baked goods to you is enough to make you intensely flustered. Has this man visited so often? And you never noticed him? How could you miss that easy-going smile?

A familiar figure saves you from whatever awkward, garbled response you were going to muster.

Despite Kimi’s arrival, Donghyuck has a hard time taking his eyes off you. Lashes swaying with each flicker of his eyes over your face, he’s hardly taking a bit of the delicious marble cake, in fact. What, have you got something on your face?

Kimi apologizes profusely before you can say anything to greet her.

“There’s only one slice prepared for the Tiramisu Dream sample,” she explains. “I’m so sorry about this. Would you mind sharing this one? I apologize again.”

“No worries, Kimi,” Donghyuck responds, laughing a little. You shake your head and reassure it’s alright too.

Anyway, that slice is going to be yours. You’re ready to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

To your surprise, though, he shoots a friendly smile at you.

“Want the first bite?”

“May I?” You ask, just to be sure.

“By all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “After all, what’s mine is yours, fiance.”

You swear, if he calls you that one more time, he’s going to end up in the cake display.

Kimi stares at the two of you blankly for a moment. It instantly flusters you and Donghyuck both, so much so that the idiot digs his fork into the cake slice and holds it up to your lips with a soft ‘ah’ —and so much so that you actually accept it graciously.

And all that only for Kimi to not even notice as she excused her way back to the counter. So now you’re just two idiots deep in your romantic charades. Donghyuck clears his throat, too late to cover his coral-tinted cheeks and ears. You’re certain you wear a similar expression.

“You’re- you’re so weird,” you jab, unable to come up with an insult higher than middle school grade.

“What, you wanted me to do airplanes too?!”

“Take that fork and drive it through your tongue, will you?”

“Woah, woah, no need for violence, Miss (Name). Peace and Love.”

Unexpectedly, it makes you break character into unbound laughter. The weariness of the act and the silliness of the whole situation leaks into the sound, and it’s enough to make Donghyuck join in. For passersby, you are just a couple already past your third, fifth and seventh dates.

“Any comments for the tiramisu cake?” Donghyuck asks, grinning ear to ear.

You catch your breath, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, I have a comment: who puts this much cocoa powder on top? Are you trying to choke your customers?”

“Awh, and I thought you were gonna be nice,” he whines, “Your smile is just so… inviting.”

As if on cue, he chokes on the cocoa powder.

“I still like it,” you continue. “I’d just do it better.”

“I have the utmost confidence in that.”

Gosh, his smile is nauseating—too bright, too easy, like he’s actually enjoying this. Maybe he’s a rising actor, and you’re the one being hoodwinked. After all, who looks at someone like that on a first meeting?

A moment passes, and suddenly his thumb is at the corner of your lips, brushing off the cocoa powder with a touch so casual it feels anything but. “Got it,” he murmurs, and the air between you shifts, warm and oddly heavy.

“So, how do you know all this?” you ask, changing the topic. You’re forcing yourself to focus, to breathe.

He leans back, a small laugh slipping out like he’s grateful for the lifeline. “You- uh- you could say I’m a connoisseur of pastries,” he offers, his voice lighter now. “I like to sample the best around town—just, you know, legally. I even take notes of my favorites.”

He gestures towards you, and you scoff.

The words settle between you as you toy with the edge of your skirt, smoothing the fabric down over your lap. There’s something about the way he speaks—so casual, so effortless—that needles at you. For a man so annoyingly confident, he sure seems relieved to have redirected the conversation.

Your hand grazes the tiny snowman buttons on your cardigan, tracing the cold plastic absentmindedly. His gaze flickers to the movement, then back to your face, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. You don’t know what’s more embarrassing—getting outed as the Cake Thief or the fact that he’s bound to know he flusters you.

You tilt your head, giving him a skeptical look. “How professional of you.”

The bite in your tone is softening, and you don’t like it one bit.

He holds up his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey, it’s an art. Someone’s gotta appreciate it, right?”

The faint chatter of other patrons fills the room, but his presence sharpens the moment, making it feel like it’s just the two of you. For a fleeting second, you catch yourself wondering what kind of person would take notes on pastries for fun. It’s so bizarrely specific, so utterly unnecessary—and yet, so like him.

His smile deepens, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping the traitorous grin threatening to break through. You refuse to indulge him, even as you feel the faintest crack in your defenses.

"Maybe,” you say, finally.

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning back against his chair with a satisfied air, as if he’s won something. You glance at the tray, willing yourself to focus on anything else.

How awkward. How warm.

You spot a napkin fluttering off the table, carried by a sudden draft from the door. Instinctively, you step out of your chair to grab it, but Donghyuck beats you to it, scooping it up with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.

“Your knight in shining armor,” he declares dramatically, holding it out like a trophy.

“More like my nuisance in sugar-stained armor,” you retort, snatching it from his hand.

He laughs, unabashed. “Ah, so sharp. Yet here you are, sharing cake with said nuisance. Life is full of mysteries.”

“I’m just here for the cake,” you deadpan, dusting your hands off.

For a second, his smile falters—not in hurt but in sheer disbelief. He tilts his head, studying you with an incredulous expression, and you suddenly feel like a frog under a magnifying glass.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, almost to himself, his voice low but still playful.

“Get what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. He steps closer, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of chestnut cream. “I mean, I could spell it out for you, but that might ruin the fun.”

“Spell what out?” you press, a little flustered now.

He straightens with a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, you airhead. Absolutely nothing. Is your head full of cotton candy, by any chance?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, he’s already pulling his chair back, resuming his seat with a sigh.

“Mont Blanc, Marble Eclipse, and Tiramisu on the first date,” he states, deep in thought. “Maybe Matcha Lemon, Lavender Peach, and White Chocolate on the second… Perhaps a Red Velvet and a Strawberry Shortcake before you realize I literally own this place?”

You feel the heat intensify on your cheeks. You almost miss the last part, clouded by the implications of the rest of his words. He… wants to go on more dates with you? Was this a date all along? You’ve been swindled into having fun with a man somehow. He even knows the ins and outs of a baker’s life. And he’s charming in an oddball sort of way. You shouldn’t be feeling solidarity with this weirdo. But then again, somehow, his laugh is very… endearing.

Wait a minute.

“You- you really own the place?!” A scream dies in your throat.

Donghyuck looks positively taken aback. “So you actually weren’t aware?!”

“What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know?! You described yourself as a connoisseur of pastries. I thought you were some kind of freelance failure so I didn’t pry!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, either that or you’re unbelievably rich. But then you don’t look it. Your sleeves have flour and oil stains on them, and your shoes are all dusty too, and there’s gold flakes in your hair—okay, how did I miss this?”

“Geez, way to judge someone by their looks. I’m not taking that from the local tart snatcher.”

The retort barely registers because your brain is too busy replaying the words “I own this place.” The realization hits, and before you can think better of it, the chair screeches back as you bolt upright.

“Wait, where are you—” Donghyuck’s voice is cut off by your shrill, mortified “Bye!” as you make a beeline for the door, leaving behind a very startled staff and a half-empty tray of cakes. Immediately after your exit, you let out a shriek.

What the hell are you doing?!

Your face burns as you speed-walk down the street, each step punctuated by the memory of your impulsive retreat. You must have cast your senses away at that moment, like some wide-eyed fool in a fairy tale, almost charmed by that silly man and his absurd little quirks. It’s not your fault, of course—it’s his, with his flour-dusted sleeves, that stupidly endearing laugh, and the way he talked about pastries like they were a love language. What was wrong with him?! you think, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was your awkwardness and runaway theatrics that had caused the scene. You’d blame it on sugar overload if it weren’t for the nagging realization that maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten under your skin, and the fact that you deserved it.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Not after your embarrassing getaway. But three days later, you’re staring at an email with the subject line: "Notice of Legal Action for Unauthorized Sampling."

You open it with trembling fingers, only to find what can only be described as the world’s most dramatic—and definitely fake—lawsuit.

Your jaw drops as you scroll through the email. He’d even attached a fake case number: #CAKE-404-NO-FUN.

The body of the email was littered with ridiculous legalese. Phrases like "egregious acts of confectionery negligence" and "failure to properly appreciate artisanal craftsmanship" were scattered between absurdly specific accusations.

There is a diagram. An actual diagram. Arrows pointing to "Exhibit A" (the Mont Blanc) and "Exhibit B" (the empty spot on the tray), annotated with notes like "victim of hasty consumption" and "left to fend for itself."

And then, at the very bottom, there it was—the pièce de résistance:

“This suit may be settled by one (1) heartfelt apology and one (1) coffee date at the aforementioned bakery. Should you require legal counsel, I suggest bringing your A-game. I am, after all, a connoisseur of arguments… and pastries. 😉”

You groan, head thunking against the back of your chair. The audacity. The drama. The fuckass emojis.

This man is getting to you.

Your first reaction is, of course, panic. Your second? Rage. And by the time you storm into the bakery at ass o’clock before it even opens, Donghyuck is waiting for you, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. (Which he does, actually.)

He’s propped on his elbows, his posture easy and unhurried, as if he’s been expecting you. The black apron around his waist is slightly askew, and his beige T-shirt bears faint streaks of flour across the chest, a testament to an already busy morning. His fluffy brown hair is an artful mess, the kind that looks unintentional but infuriatingly perfect, with a few errant strands curling over his forehead. There’s a streak of something golden—sugar, maybe?—on his cheek, catching the light as he tilts his head to regard you with an expression that’s equal parts curious and smug.

“You’re early,” he remarks, his voice low and teasing, as though he isn’t the root of all evil.

“You think this is funny?” you demand, shoving your phone in his face.

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “Hilarious, actually. Did it get your attention?”

“You can’t just send someone a fake legal notice!”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He shrugs, leaning back with infuriating calmness. “Besides, you owed me an explanation for your Houdini act. You know, poor Kimi had to clear your tray. She almost cried.”

“She did not!”

As if on cue, Kimi pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, she absolutely did. It was tragic,” she deadpans before ducking back in.

You groan, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. “You’re unbelievable.”

Donghyuck leans back, smug as ever, and gestures to the email still open on your phone. “Unbelievable or resourceful? Let’s review: I sent a single, harmless message—full of creativity and wit, I might add—and look where we are.”

“At me wanting to strangle you?”

“At you running right to me,” he corrects, his grin widening. “What, were you worried?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap. “I’m here because—”

You stop, realizing you don’t have a decent answer. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I took you seriously.”

“Oh, you absolutely took me seriously.” He nods sagely. “I saw the panic in your eyes. Admit it: for a second, you thought you were going to have to pay me a hundred grand or grovel at my feet.”

“I- ugh- fuck you!” is all you can muster, stepping forward without thinking.

He mirrors your movement, the space between you shrinking by degrees.

“But seriously, you ghosted me, and I had to get creative. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured the legal drama might get my point across.”

“What point?”

“That I wanted to see you again.” The words come out so easily, so matter-of-fact, you don’t know how to respond. When you finally glance up, he’s watching you closely, his expression uncharacteristically sincere.

“Just because you’re all cute and covered in flour like the star of some indie chef movie doesn’t mean you get to toy with me.”

“Ha! You’re presumptuous—despite all the fine details on me you seem to observe.” He leans in. “But guess what, I’m a greedy bastard that loves attention. So, look closer.”

And you look anywhere but his lips, too pink and too plush, as your face grows hotter than a convection oven on broil.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, staring resolutely at the display of cakes. “That hardly counts as details.”

“Details,” he echoes, his grin growing wider. “Like the way I look at you?”

“You’re just a flirt,” you mutter.

He gasps, mock-offended, and gestures dramatically to the kitchen. “Kimi, did you hear that? I’m just a flirt!”

“You said it, not me,” Kimi calls back without missing a beat.

You laugh despite yourself, the sound surprising you. And Donghyuck doesn’t miss it. His gaze softens, the teasing edge in his voice dropping slightly. “There it is. I knew you could laugh without running away.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late.”

For a moment, the air shifts, the humor giving way to something quieter. Donghyuck’s gaze lingers—not on your awkward posture or flushed cheeks, but on you, as though trying to piece together something he doesn’t quite understand.

“What?” you finally ask, defensive.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but there’s a small, genuine smile now. “Just... you’re such a fidgety person.”

“Are you trying to shell out an insult?”

“No, I mean, I always see you scuttling here and there. Always on the move. Always observing, but never stopping long enough to be seen. You just… don’t seem like someone who takes much time for yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s crossed a line.

“I’m wrong?” he asks, almost sheepishly.

“I—” You pause, unsure of how to respond. “You’re nosy, that’s what you are.”

“That’s a yes,” he decides, grinning again.

Donghyuck chuckles, leaning just a little closer, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. “Tell you what,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ll prove I’m not just nosy. Let me take you out. Somewhere you don’t have to bolt out the door halfway through.”

“You think I’d agree to that?” you retort, though your words lack bite. The proximity is doing something to your brain, and you’re acutely aware of how close he’s leaned in.

His grin is confident and infuriating. “I think you’d be curious enough to say yes.”

Your breath hitches as you realize how little space is left between the two of you, your noses almost brushing. “Woah,” you whisper, trying to play it off, “my mommy warned me about boys like you. All up close and personal with flour in their hair.”

He raises a brow, unrepentant. “Smart woman. But she didn’t tell you we’re pretty good at first dates, did she?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, soft but genuine. “Fine,” you say, straightening up and taking a step back before your pulse betrays you further. “But you’re paying. And no weird cakes this time.”

“Deal,” he replies, his smile softer now, more sincere.

And for a moment, you believe it—not just the act, not just the cakes and the banter, but the idea that maybe, somehow, this strange, sugar-dusted series of events has led to something real.

. . .

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 16h

UPDATE: I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

Fine, you guys were right. We’re dating now. Let’s just say we’ve been filling my cream puffs lately 🫠

Edit: I also got the Mont Blanc recipe!!

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 3,297 Comments

kimikakes • 13h

KIMI HERE, REPORTING LIVE FROM THE SCENE: they literally argued over frosting consistency for half an hour yesterday. This relationship is built on chaos and croissants.

➥ Reply ⥣ 7.1k ⥥

bun_theory0222 • 2h

Hellooo where are the recipes. Priorities, OP :/

➥ Reply ⥣ 4.1k ⥥

lil_sugar_daddy0813 • 1h

man i was betting on donghyuck dying alone i dont wanna lose my $20

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h Give me your money NYEOW ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m why are you suddenly a furry ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h pays the bills ➥ Reply ⥣ 2.7k ⥥

#nct x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #haechan fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #haechan x you #moonwrites #ok so initially it was way more long drawn bc hyuck was abt to make her do the 12 labors of hercules (bakery ver) to call off that lawsuit #would have been fun but i do not have the energy for it :((#so have toothrotting fluff instead #i know im late by 2 days but my friend went to the er on the 31st and i got piss drunk last night at a party

559 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 1 month ago

Note

Hey kxsagi😜😘

Out of all the Football clubs in the NEL arc I think Ubers is on the very top for me b/c I just LOVEEEE the way they play against their opponents and the relationship and dynamics they have with each other! Aiku and Sendou are such a duo, my boy niko is such a little brother coded in the team, Don Lorenzo is such an underrated character frfr and also him and Snuffy's father and son like dynamic is so adorable🥺🥺 I'd love to hear your hcs on them.

Ty in advance😘😘💥

“𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬”

a/n: YESSS ubers supremacy!!! as much as i love bastard munchen, you have absolutely elite taste because ubers has so much heart, honestly it’s like mafia tactics meet found family. their loyalty, structure, and the way they all look out for each other (while still playing to win) makes them so unique compared to the other teams and i am so here for it 🫡

also decided to do this in a different format!

(their team name ubers reminds me of that one meme where it’s like “uh i never went to oovoo javer” 💀)

ubers team general headcanons

everyone on the team secretly knows they’re the “organized crime” themed squad. they lean into it. their pre-game huddles sound like mafia sitdowns. “you don’t go down unless i say so,” aiku announces, while sendou nods like he’s his consultant. niko has no idea what that means but he goes, “got it, boss.”

snuffy runs a tight ship, but never disrespects anyone. his “fatherly” energy isn’t loud – it’s quiet, composed, and deeply respectful. he cooks post-match meals like a literal dad. big “who wants more steak?” energy. the boys make fun of him but never to his face because they all lowkey adore him.

when it comes to chores, niko does the dishes. reluctantly. because the last time sendou did them, aiku got food poisoning + lorenzo is banned from the kitchen because he once tried to make “gains ramen” which was just protein powder, boiled chicken, and pre-workout. snuffy had to call poison control.

their team group chat is horrific. aiku sends gym thirst traps with captions like “morning motivation.” sendou sends cursed memes at 3 AM (niko replies with “please stop”). snuffy sends quotes from philosophers like “a man who conquers himself is mightier than he who conquers a city.” everyone reacts with 🫡. lorenzo only sends selfies and flex pics with random motivational phrases like “get money, stay jacked.”

aiku oliver & sendou daiya – the menace duo

literally the worst pair to be seated near on team trips. they will prank everyone. lorenzo once woke up with his chains braided. niko caught it on camera and it went viral in the ubers gc.

sendou tries to act cool around girls but somehow always fumbles. aiku lets him crash and burn every time. “you’re doing amazing, sweetie,” he deadpans as sendou gets rejected for calling someone “m’lady.”

despite their chaos, they always have each other’s backs on the field. aiku trusts sendou’s instincts, and sendou follows aiku’s leads without question. it’s instinctual, like they’re synced. they don’t even need to talk sometimes, they just know.

niko ikki – baby of the team

everyone thinks niko’s this quiet little strategist, but he’s also the most chronically online member of ubers. he runs their meme account anonymously. only snuffy knows. snuffy lets it slide because niko always includes respectful captions under snuffy edits like “our king 🫡”

lorenzo calls him “kid.” sendou calls him “baby bro.” aiku once called him “squirt” and niko didn’t speak to him for a week. but deep down he’s grateful because he’s never had this kind of camaraderie before.

sometimes he’ll be sulking in a corner after a rough game and snuffy just walks over, sits down beside him, and hands him a juice box. “you did good, kid.” niko cries. silently. every time.

don lorenzo – chaos incarnate, misunderstood legend

he eats protein powder raw. sendou dared him once to snort it. he did. it was not a good day.

he’s rich. obscenely so. he always flashes his gold teeth and quotes, “i only trust two things: muscle and money.” he funds team bonding trips without blinking. his idea of bonding? paintball war in the woods.

has the softest spot for niko and treats him like a tiny feral cat he found outside and adopted. “he’s scrappy. he’s got instincts. he’s family now.” niko just blinks like 🧍🏻

snuffy and lorenzo have a dad and rebellious teen son energy. snuffy’s constantly like “don’t do anything stupid,” and lorenzo’s like “no promises, papà.” but whenever snuffy’s serious, lorenzo listens like a soldier. no matter how wild he acts, he respects snuffy like a father figure.

snuffy – the dad of the year

gives out the gentlest life lectures. “football’s like pasta, boys. you gotta boil under pressure to get good.” everyone’s like “… what?” but then they do get good.

refuses to raise his voice. instead, he lowers it. when he’s disappointed, everyone feels like they just let down their entire lineage.

he makes each player write down their goals and reviews them monthly. lorenzo once wrote “get more gains and less enemies.” snuffy nodded like that was a valid mission statement.

if you cry in front of him, he’ll give you a side hug and pat your back once. just once. but it’ll heal you emotionally.

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

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Are we getting anymore Riize smut anytime soon 😓🙏🏽

✶ Time It | 18+ RIIZE IMAGINES 💭

ㅤㅤ♡⃕ how long would each riize member last … ?!

contains: SMUT, implied overstim or multiple rounds, hand jobs and oral (m. receiving), precise timings, fem!reader

Shotaro ⏱︎ Given his stamina as a dancer, I’d say he normally lasts pretty long on his own, but with you, it’d be harder for him to hold back, asking you to slow down whenever he’s close just to drag it out with edging. He’d be a blushing mess, too, screwing his eyes shut as he lets out those little groans you love, struggling to keep his thighs still before finishing just under thirteen minutes …

Eunseok ⏱︎ He’s prone to hide his sounds whenever he’s inside of you, wanting to focus more on your pretty whimpers as he fucks into you, or the sound of your juices squelching together. Though, you can tell just by looking at his darkened eyes and listening to the way he pants while talking dirty to you that he’s in a total haze, giving you a little over ten minutes for round one …

Sungchan ⏱︎ I first wanna mention how fun this guy would be in the bedroom, showing you in his facial expressions how much he’s enjoying it, and maybe even laughing a little before groaning all loud and shamelessly. Still, I can imagine he’s built up an endurance with you over time, oozing from his tip before giving you his full load at around fifteen minutes …

Wonbin ⏱︎ So needy… I can see him rutting his hips into your hand as you fist him, or stroking your hair out of the way so he could see your pretty face taking him, only to roll his eyes back while breathing all heavy. He’d try his best to hold back and make things last longer, but once he gets fully lost in your touch, he’d be moaning your name in an easy eight minutes …

Seunghan ⏱︎ Alright so with him, I feel like he'd really wanna impress you, knowing from personal research that it takes more time for a woman to get there. He'd spit on your cunt for additional slick first, and experiment with his thrusting speeds to maximize both your pleasure. I’d say he’d give you a sweet ten to fifteen minutes if he’s taking his time ...

Sohee ⏱︎ My cute baby... I honestly get the vibe that he's a relatable mix of extremely horny yet inexperienced, hiding his face out of shyness, but also because if he keeps looking at the way your fingers are wrapped around him, he might finish in a heartbeat </3 ... Stick with a moderate pace, and he’d get off in six minutes or so… but expect him to want more pretty soon ...

Anton ⏱︎ Don’t be fooled by his innocent and bashful demeanor, ‘cause this guy will actually surprise you. You’d try to be nice by starting off slow, but he’d be a moaning mess underneath you in seconds, clinging to your hips while practically begging you to go faster. You two would have to work up to more than one round because he’s sensitive, but he’d last a good seven minutes …

✶ taglist: [@squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, and @pixiewoni, ty for the intentional/unintentional writing advice], @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @wonbinisbabygurl

✶ still working on a masterlist so bare with me 🙏

✶ edit: 📍 the NEW RIIZE masterlist is here !! feel free to check it out if you’re interested in more works by me ^^

#kpop x reader #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize x imagine #riize fics #riize scenarios #shotaro x reader #eunseok x reader #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #seunghan x reader #sohee x reader #anton x reader #riize fanfic #riize ff #riize smut

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loveriotss · 10 months ago

Note

hihi! Are you planning to do a shoto version of the bf texts + headcanons?? If yes I'd request you to do it I love him sm 😭😭

Also I loveee your acc so much!! <3

HCS + TXTS WITH HIM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⸻ shoto todoroki

INCLUDES — gn! reader, fluff, crack, headcannons, social media au

main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ click here to read other character versions

so nice but super oblivious 😓.

i fear he is yet another victim to brainrot misinformation.

really tries his best to understand your references but always ends up using it in the most outrageous situations.

will check up on you throughout the day, making sure you've eaten good food and drank enough water.

likes to use those drawn reaction pictures for fun.

he is also one of those people who got really popular after the sports festival.

his performance + him being the number 1 hero's son made him gain a lot of attraction.

so yes, it's not surprising to find edits of him on your fyp (not that you're complaining).

he doesn't get it though.

his dates are always thought out. cute little picnic dates, visits to places you've mentioned to him or baking dates.

he loves them all though, as long as you two are together he will have a fun time doing anything.

his social media is very nonchalantish, has a bit of a following because of his reputation as being placed second in the infamous sports festival and of course being the son of japan's top hero (even though he has blocked endeavor).

his page is mostly filled with small ootds or snippets of places he's been too (most of the time you're spotted somewhere in the picture).

does not care about who can or can not see his profile and will happily post you there.

NOTE — hi nonnie 1, ty for the compliment! nonnie 2, i got your request as i was gonna start working on this lolol. hope you both like it <3

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wolviensabes · 10 months ago

Text

Pajamas and Lingerie.

RQ: 'Been thinking abt the idea of the reader surprising Logan with Deadpool themed lingerie of PJs to annoy him and then BAM it’s now single wear bc he’s jealous 🤭 If you wanna write it, I’d love to see your take on this req 💖💖' - @smokeywhalee

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ; F!reader, spanking, fingering, slight orgasm denial, some teasing and dominant Logan. Did not edit, possibly later ignore errors ty.

A/N: Sorry this took forever. I'm working on multiple requests at once so I try to get out as many as I can. Jealous Lo is my fav <3 I hope it's okay I made it nsfw, I couldn't help it. I hope you enjoy this one!

WC: 2.1k

"Oh god," Logan growled out with deep annoyance and disgust at what you wore. Red pajamas with Deadpool's mask printed all over them. He could see the lingerie portion on top, and your pajama pants were covering the lacy bottoms you had on. Still, he stared with rooted irritation at the fact you were decked out in Wade's colors and his damned mask printed all over you.

"You don't like them?" You feigned, tilting your head and spinning in a circle, Logan's eyes staring at you with a blank, unamused expression. The man shifted where he was on the bed and scoffed at you.

"Where the hell did you even get those?" He asked, taking a drag of his cigar. Part of his tone said that he didn't really want to know, but he asked regardless. He had a weird feeling Wade had them made for you so it would irritate him. Well, that walking mouth succeeded in annoying Logan.

"Wade made them for me," you replied with a smile, bingo. Right on the money.

"Take that off. I don't wanna see his damn fact plastered on ya." He waved his hand at you, almost as if to shoo you away. You could tell he was starting to come to a bad mood, so you tried to sweeten it up. "I have pajamas for you too~"

His head shot up and he grunted deeply, "Hell no."

"Come on, please?" you begged, drawing out your pleads and doing the very best puppy eyes look you could muster. It wasn't enough for Logan, whom turned away and scoffed.

'That ain't gonna work, pup." He took another drag of the cigar he had and gave you a short glare. "And what did I say? Take those off. Or I will." His tone was set and firm, yet...you couldn't help but feel yourself clench. God he was hot when he was annoyed.

"What if I don't?" you retorted bravely, feeling a surge of defiance that made you feel like a brat. This unexpected challenge caught Logan's attention immediately, and he turned his head back to you with a swift, almost predatory motion. The intense look in his eyes made you stiffen, your breath catching in your throat, and a strange mix of fear and excitement boiled in your belly. His gaze seemed to pierce through you, making your heart race even faster.

"Come here." he said firmly, putting the cigar down, his finger pointing down to the ground in front of him. You stiffened and swallowed, you felt nervous but excited, looking forward to where this was going. You could see the fire burning in his eyes, staring at your choice of pajamas.

The moment you were in front of him, he grabbed you and he made a fist with his other hand, those silver claws shooting out like bullets. He carefully let them drag across your abdomen, right above the waistline of the pajama bottoms before he pushed them down and he tore them off you. The bottoms turned into stray pieces of uneven fabric by the time he was done. He let out some steam once they were off you, going as far as tearing pieces into even smaller ones.

"Fuckin' Wade put you up to this...thinks it's funny to have ya wear his face?" Logan glared up at you, "You like gettin' me worked up, is that it? You little brat." He grabbed you and he pulled you over his knee. "Well, if you wanna be a brat...then I'll treat you like one."

You barely had time to register what was going on before his rough hand came down on your ass. It didn't hurt, it was sort of like a warning or experimental smack. When his hand collided with your backside you let out a natural gasp from the sensation. Your cheeks burned from embarrassment and arousal. He took his cigar up and took a long drag from it once more, the smell took some getting used to at first, but it was more tolerable than a cigarette, plus it mixed with his natural musk well.

"Naughty girl. You like this don't you? Pissin' me off..." he growled out and smacked your ass again, a little harder this time. His calloused hand marked your ass with each smack. Those precious little sounds you made urged him on, making him smirk with satisfaction as you wriggled around. Your hands searched for something to grab, he watched the pretty skin of your ass turn red and he grinned.

"Not so bratty now, are ya?" he huffed and stopped after a handful of spanks, looking down at you as you tried to squirm out of his lap. "Not so fast, princess. Sit still and take it." Logan ordered you, feeling the round of your ass and rubbing the red skin. He dipped his fingers down and he felt between your soft legs, letting out a short laugh, nearly a snort. "Wet, huh?"

"S-shut up..." you blushed darkly from shame, you didn't know how turned on you'd be from being spanked. You hadn't been spanked before, maybe you got spanked once or twice as a child, but it was so long ago you had forgotten about it. You knew Logan wouldn't let you live this down either, he was eating this up and he'd probably tease you forever.

Before another thought could cross your mind, his thick fingers pressed into your pussy, they stroked your slit before pushing into your tight hole. It made you gasp in surprise, you were so wet he didn't have to spit on his fingers at all. Two of his fingers slowly pumped you before working up to a quicker pace. You let out moan after moan, occasionally making a sweet squeal as he expertly curled against that special spot deep inside.

"Logan! Mmn, ugh, fuck..." Your hands found the sheets and fisted them tight. Your hips lifted off his lap slightly and pushed into his hand, your clear need and eagerness wasn't unnoticed. In fact, it just urged the primal mutant on even more. His fingers curled against that spot again, making your shaking legs stiffen as pleasure shot through your body.

"There it is," he continued to curl his fingers, that sweet, spongy spot that gave you so much pleasure was being constantly stimulated. "He ain't gonna get ya like this, ever. You wanna tease me, get me to make ya shake and whine?" Logan's words filled your head but honestly the pleasure you were getting from his fingers kept you from responding normally.

"Answer me." he laid a light smack with his free hand, grunting at you. Your brain was mush, god his fingers were thick and perfect inside you. The way he was manhandling you so much and spanking you like the brat you were was so hot, your pussy clearly told him how you felt.

He wasn't satisfied with just those nice sounds you made, so he grabbed your right leg and flipped you, you laid on your back now and his fingers returned to your warm cavern, listening to how wet you sounded as his fingers worked you. "So needy...your face is so red. Do you like this pretty girl? You like when I handle ya around?"

"Uh-huh...." you nodded, pathetically trying to respond. By now your inner thighs were soaked and you coated his fingers and palm with your juices, he looked at your pussy and gently pulled up on the skin, looking at your clit. The bud was swollen and a little redder than normal, clearly wanting stimulation. He tilted his head and smiled, the pad of his thumb gently teasing it and rolling over it in circles.

"Logan!" You couldn't help the moan and buck your hips into his touch, he knew what he was fucking doing. Giving you just enough, but not too much to push you over the edge. It was so frustrating. You whined and squirmed, trying to encourage him to give you more with your little hip movements and whimpering. The bastard kept his smug smile as he watched you, feeling satisfied with himself.

"Use your words, princess. I can't read your mind, do I look like Chuck?" he carefully circled your clit with his index finger, his other hand kept two buried in your wet cunt, slowing the movements and watching your desperation grow with each passing second.

It took all the willpower in you not to scream at him to let you cum already. You knew better than to demand something from him, the more you demanded something from him, the more he'd withdraw it from you. You couldn't make him let you cum, he uses denial as a punishment, and god does he love punishing you with something so simple, yet effective.

"Don't think I forgot what you came in with. You think it's funny to tease me with something like that?" he asked, his fingers pressed up into your sweet spot, but they were still. The light pressure send electric shocks down to your toes, it wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed him to let you cum, you hoped he'd show you mercy.

Your eyes burned with tears as you whimpered and whined, really pouting like a child. Like the brat you were. The desperate, needy, pitiful little brat. It just made him smirk down at you, his hand moved from your clit to your breast, gently groping and then pinching your nipple. He listened to the new sound you made, his fingers rolling the bud around. "Maybe I'll just play with these, let you get so, so wet and beg for me..."

"Nooo," you whined, just like the needy girl he turned you into. He knew just how to work you, just what to do, just where to touch. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he memorized every inch of you. Literally inside, and out.

"Come on...beg. I know you want to." Logan chuckled and leaned closer, setting the cigar down and blowing the smoke away. The smoke tickled your nose as it barely blew over your face. "Come on...you like it don't you? Just beg, a few little words..."

"Please! Please, just let me cum already!" you whined out to him, your hips unable to keep still by now. You could feel the obvious boner in his jeans and knew he wasn't going to hold back for long if you continued your little movements.

Logan sighed, looking down and giving you a scolding glance, "No, no...that's not good enough sweetheart. Beg like you mean it." His fingers slowly began to retract and your eyes widened. All hell...

"No! Don't take them out...fuck! Fine!" You groaned loudly, "Please, let me cum...please, I need it...look at me!" You couldn't help yourself, you sounded so pitiful, your watery eyes looked at him and silently pleaded for him to make you cum.

Your pleading was satisfying enough. Logan's fingers plunged back and curled up, that sweet motion that you needed. Your gasp and eager bucking urged him on, and he toyed with your sensitive clit. His finger rubbing it in just the right way you liked. You had enough slick for his calloused pad to slide all over it and the texture of his finger felt just as good.

"Cum for me, princess. You begged for it," Logan growled out, looking at your red face, your cheeks damp from the intense pleasure. "Pretty girl, that's it...I feel you're getting close..." His fingers could feel you clenching and you were more slick now, your body preparing for your impending orgasm. Your chest rose and fell, he watched your chest as it moved and he chuckled, his fingers doing a little bit more and...there it came.

You cried out, your back arched and you moaned loudly. Your pussy tightened and you came all over his fingers, soaking his hand and lap. Your gentle voice cried his name in ecstasy, Logan groaned and he was painfully pressed against his zipper. "Goddamn..." he grunted, withdrawing his fingers when your body relaxed. He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, making you mewl and cover your face. "Good girl...look at this mess you made..."

The whimper that left your trembling lip was barely audible as you sat up and looked at the soaked spot below you, his jeans were wet and you could see his hard on struggling to remain contained in his jeans. He grunted and palmed himself as he carefully sat up, looking down at you. "I think you need another little punishment for that, don't you agree?" His dark gaze eyed the pajama pants you brought in for him, a low snarl escaping his lips and he gave a slight eye roll.

"I need to remind you who you belong to, princess...and you will wear me instead of that..." he growled, leaning over you as he pulled you closer, your bare pussy rubbed his jeans and felt how hot he was around his crotch. "What do you say, sweetheart...hm?"

"Please..." you barely got out, knowing what you are in for. Jealous Logan was about to ruin you.

"Good girl..."

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

#logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine xmen #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #deadpool and wolverine #🎠my works

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sinsofsummers · 2 years ago

Text

sensational; part iii

6.1k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader part one | part two

summary: joel continues teaching you everything you need to know about desire. warnings: smut smut smut, 18+, mdni. yearning, teasing, thigh-sitting, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), fingers in mouth, joel almost loses control, age gap (reader is 25, joel is 56). i think that's everything. suchhhh impaired(drunk) editing. i'm so osrry. note: here it is. about a week later than i had planned. but i turned 21. cut me some slack HAHAHHAHA i hope you enjoy this unintentional third part to sensational! note: special shoutout to @cavillscurls bc she not only requested that joel call reader "babygirl" at least once but also that there be some aftercare so....this one's all for u pretty girl i hope your day is an easy one <3 ty for being my very first friend on here wahhh

Joel was used to the chill in his bones. It had been there since his thirty-sixth birthday, and had hardly begun to slip away until he'd met that quiet girl with a fiery spirit like his daughter. Ellie had made the icy tension thaw, and then he met her, the woman who'd begun to melt his very insides.

Was it her curiosity that was so...endearing? Astute? An inevitable addition to his patrols with her? Or was it the fact that she'd begun to smile when she saw him, if only a tight-lipped grin that emitted a soft glow like a secret shared with whispers?

He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what it was that had him hardening at the sight of her. So instead of thinking about it—something he wasn't very good at, anyway—Joel returned to his current position in the present moment.

He was on horseback, his gloved hands tightened on the reins, and she was perched in front of him, her back pressed gingerly to his chest and her thighs warming the insides of his.

Joel's mind wandered to the morality of his intentions, as they usually did when she was this close to him. What's she want with you, old man? That voice loved to pester him all day long, but he shoved it away this time when he pretended to adjust his hands on the reins. The movement made his arms tense around her frame, and other than her head tilting back to nudge his chin, there was no response. He thanked the horse for its strong, rocking movements that kept her body tense and pressed into his.

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he mused. And what a painless death it would be.

—

Despite the fact that you were entirely okay with this turn of events, you couldn't ignore the instinctual worry that bit at your insides. When you'd shown up at the stables that morning, Joel had already arrived, leading his horse by the reins.

"C'mon, doll," he said in that rough morning voice that was so attractive. "You're ridin' with me today."

Your brows had furrowed, and you looked toward the stables. "What about—"

Joel had shaken his head and held out a gloved hand for you. "Your horse is no good today," he said (with a less-than-convincing note of sorrow in his voice, but why would he show emotion for once in his life?), clearing his throat before finishing, "just you, me, and this one today," with a nod to his horse.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked as you took his hand, the heavy weight of his grip returning to you as a comfort now. "What's wrong with him?" He led you forward, but you couldn't help glancing back once more as if you were a kid getting dragged away by her parents from a candy store.

He squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you. "Gimme your hands, sweet girl," he murmured.

You obeyed without a second thought and let him help you up, the winter wind whipped around your hair despite it being trapped in your usual knit hat. His hands tightened around your hips as he booted you up, and you mourned the moment they left your body. Of course, that sensation didn't last long; he clambered up and mounted right behind you.

Oh. You hadn't considered that this would be the solution to your horse being incapable of patrolling today. Maybe this won't be so bad, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the chill. You let out a shaky breath at the press of his chest against your back.

"My horse?" you asked once more, despite not quite caring anymore; his arms were now enveloping you as he began making his way to the edges of Jackson.

His sigh created a brief cloud of mist in the wintry air, and the vibrations of his voice rumbled through your body. "Broken leg," he explained quietly, and you felt more than heard his words.

You wanted nothing more than to let yourself sink into the feeling of being so close to him like this, with your hips nestled right in front of his pelvis (a fact that was bound to distract you soon enough), but you forced yourself to inquire a final time.

"A broken leg?" you said. You didn't mean for it to come off as disbelieving, but...your mount had been just fine the day before.

Joel shrugged and instead of answering, he leaned in closer to your ear, his chapped lips scratching against the soft skin near your neck; your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. "Darlin'," he murmured, "don't you trust me?" One of his hands dropped the reins and curled around your middle, tugging you by the waist back into him. "I've got so much to teach you today."

The reminder that there was still more, that there was always more for Joel to teach you in the world of desire and sin...it was enough to have your mind going blank and your muscles relaxing at his touch. "Okay," you mumbled, not sure if he could even hear your answer.

His gloved hand moved up just a few inches before moving back to grab the reins, but you didn't miss the feeling (if only for a second) of his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts.

You sighed gently and leaned back enough for your head to rest against his chest, your body full encased by his broad shoulders and burly arms. It was secure, it was safe, and the heady scent of leather and Joel nearly made your head spin. With all the possibilities of what he might want to teach you today, on patrol and so close to one another...you weren't sure you'd survive.

It was only a matter of time before your hands and mind completely lost their withering hold on social decorum.

—

Joel's composure was the first to slip, but you weren't far behind—of course, you'd never admit it to him. You'd made it about an hour outside of Jackson, your body rocking deliciously against his, and nothing but the wind to accompany your soft voices as you spoke.

"Those girls haven't bothered me anymore, you know," you said, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. You nearly choked at the sight of him already looking down at you, his mustache twitching with his lips in a curious smirk. "Not sure what made them stop, though."

"S'good," he said, his jaw clicking before he continued. "But you're like an open book, doll," he said, eyes flitting back to his surroundings. "I'm sure they could see it on your face."

You huffed, cheeks warming again. "See what exactly?"

Joel reached down with a hand to run his fingers along your thigh, creeping closer to where a puddle of desire was growing between your legs. You leaned your head against his chest again and let out a wanton sigh, wishing his hands would creep closer to where you needed him most.

"That," he said, voice lilting with a satisfied arrogance. "It's that sweet face you make when you're wantin' somethin' from me."

"I don't have a face," you mumbled, your arms looping around his biceps and hanging on to them. It's terribly domestic, a voice murmured in your head, but you shoved it away. "What are you talking about?"

Joel leaned his head down to yours, his mouth in your hair. You felt him smile against your skin and he cooed, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl." He moved his hand to your thigh once more and chuckled into your hair when you rolled your hips back into his. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart."

You wanted nothing more than to sink into his soft touches and whine his name until he brought you to the edges of ecstasy again, but the winter wind howled in your ears and reminded you that you couldn't afford to lose all composure. There was a very real reason you were on patrol; it would have been irresponsible to indulge in the sweet pleasure of Joel's touch.

And yet—you couldn't help it when you lifted your chin and pressed a swift kiss to his jaw, hoping beyond hope that it might prompt him to touch you, to kiss you, to do anything to relieve the familiar ache that was growing. It was all you could do not to begin begging right then and there.

So when he suggested that the two of you take a pit stop at one of the old abandoned cabins along your route, you nodded feverishly. It's not irresponsible if we're taking proper precautions, you convinced yourself.

"C'mon, dollface," he murmured, pulling the reins to a halt in front of a dilapidated shack in the wintry landscape. "Can't hardly focus with you rubbin' up against me like that."

The breathless chuckle that you let out sounded nothing like yourself; you were giddy with the impending pleasure that was about to come from Joel's lips, his fingers, anything that he might deem useful in bringing you another crumbling orgasm.

You practically fell off the horse into his arms with your tingling excitement, and Joel chuckled as your chest collided with his. “So eager, darlin’,” he mused, adjusting your knit hat where it had fallen below your eyes. “Makin’ me feel so special with that sweet face,” he said, his large hand snaking around your back to support you as the two of you traipsed through the snow to the cabin.

It was only a little alarming that his hands on your body were so familiar after just a few of his “lessons,” but you chose to ignore it and sink into the weight of his warm hands perforating your coat. “Joel,” you breathed, and you didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it.

Joel pushed open the door to the cabin—it took a few tries; it was frozen shut—and tied up his mount. “C’mere,” he whispered as soon as the door was shut behind you. His lips were on yours before you could suck in a breath of anticipation, and oh, how you loved the scrape of his chapped lips against your skin when he moved to press kisses to the line of your jaw.

“Been thinkin’ of you, dollface,” he mumbled when he pulled back, his breath fanning over your face. “Been thinkin’ of you a lot.”

You blinked up at him, your lips already wet and wanting for more of his attention. With that dark look in his eyes, he looked as if he might devour you without a moment’s notice. Despite your ever-present reticence toward the things that Joel had taught you so far, you couldn’t ignore the way that your mouth had dried, mind empty of all words.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing roughly. In pure humiliation, you leaned forward to hide your face in his chest, inhaling that comforting scent of leather—it both cleared and muddled your head.

He let out a rumbling chuckle, a looser laugh than you’d ever heard from him, and he placed his gloved hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back up to him. “Yeah,” he said gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Probably a little too much, considering I can hardly get through the night without gettin’ a hard-on.”

Your cheeks warmed as you blushed, and you instinctively tried to duck your head once more. Of course, Joel wouldn’t let you; he quickly rid his hands of his gloves and returned them to your cheeks, the chill of his fingertips contrasting with the heat of your cheeks. “You gonna kiss me again?” you asked, your voice small in its pleading. “Please?” you added, the syllable even quieter than the last.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was to you or to himself. He pulled you closer, and you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your hip. “Gonna kill me, dollface,” he groaned before he captured your lips in another bruising kiss, one that had your legs buckling. He kept you upright, with his hands wrapped tightly around your back.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth into his kiss, hardly able to believe how natural it felt to kiss him now. A strangled moan left your mouth and he swallowed it into his own, drinking it like a sweet nectar from the gods. His hands came up to feverishly rid you of your winter coat and you eagerly assisted him, clawing at his layers right after.

“Teach me,” you begged, pulling away to catch your breath. Your eyes didn’t even open; you were too blissed out to care what you looked like or what he looked like in front of you. “Teach me,” the words came out again, and your bottom lip quivered as if you might shed tears. Your thighs clenched together subconsciously, doing virtually nothing to assist in the pressure that was growing.

Joel hummed and his thumb carefully swept a caressing touch under your eyes, as if catching any tears that might actually fall. “No need to beg anymore, babygirl,” he cooed, “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.” He tugged your hat from your head and smoothed over your undoubtedly knotted mess of locks. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a smirk at you.

“Promise?” you said, again in that small voice that had you almost kicking yourself. You were supposed to be an adult, mature enough to handle all of this. And you are, the voice in your head spoke harshly, you are.

Joel just nodded and tilted his head back, gesturing for you to follow him further into the cabin. “Stand there for me, doll,” he said, leading you into what must have been the living room some twenty years ago. A couch that looked like it might collapse in on itself sat against the wall, the only piece of furniture in the room.

You stood where he placed you, but his hands dropped from your body when he went to sit down on the couch. With one arm moving to lay across the back of the couch and his jean-clad legs spreading in the way that made you want to kneel in between them, Joel beckoned for you with his other hand. “Now c’mere,” he ushered, and you couldn’t move fast enough.

Your hands reached out to grab for him, to take off his coat and his shirt and let him lay bare before you like he had in your bed, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “remember?”

You knew this; both times before this Joel had made it clear that you needn’t worry about getting him off. You were supposed to sit back and let him show you how to feel good, but you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to obey his request. You wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap like he’d had you the first time, and you wanted to rub yourself against his cock so you could see how he looked when he was lost in the throes of his desire.

“Babydoll,” he nudged you gently with his voice, and you blinked. “Hear me?”

Swallowing hoarsely, you shook your head. “Mm?” you hummed in response.

Joel’s lips curled up in a soft smirk. “Already distracted,” he mused to himself. A hand dropped to his thigh, and your eyes latched onto it. You had the sudden urge to take those fingers into your mouth, to feel the strength of his fingertips on your tongue—the fact that those same digits had been shining with your release (more than once) had your legs wobbling once more.

“You’re gonna stand there,” he said, adjusting himself on the couch in a way that had your eyes glued to the growing tent in his jeans, “and I’m gonna watch while you make yourself come.”

You blanched, and the spot between your legs pulsed at the idea. “What?” You couldn’t help the slight disappointment at the realization that this meant he wouldn’t be touching you.

“You heard me.”

“But…” your hands flexed, needing to hold onto something. Your desperation for release was almost enough to have you sinking to the floor. “But…I don’t know how—”

Joel nodded, “You do. I’ve shown you, remember?” His fingers tapped a few times on his thigh, and his eyes slipped to drag along your body as you stood just a few feet from him. “And you know I can’t always be there when you need to come, babydoll,” he hummed. “I need you to show me you’ve learned.”

“But—”

“Show me,” he said, his voice firm despite the gentleness in his face. He palmed his cock through his pants and bucked his hips up. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me, I’ll make it worth it.”

Despite his instructions, you shuffled forward, arms out and reaching for him. You paused in between his legs, feeling the heat from his legs radiating toward you.

But Joel only shook his head with an amused smirk. “No, no, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll come just as quick even if I’m just watchin’ you. I need you to show me what you’ve learned,” he repeated his previous instruction. “Touch yourself, sweet girl. Lemme see how you make yourself feel good.”

You didn’t move, unsure of how to begin—as it was now clear that he wouldn’t let you touch him, nor would he be giving into your requests. Standing there in your sweater and jeans and winter boots, you felt foolish.

“I know you know how to start, baby,” he encouraged you while moving his hand along his hard cock in his jeans. “Take those clothes off, pretty girl.”

With an instruction to follow, your hands began to move, ridding yourself of your sweater and pants, even your thick boots. Standing in just your worn bra, your cotton panties, and your thick wool socks, you looked shyly toward Joel. It felt somewhat humiliating to have his eyes so intently held on you, despite his face being the picture of approval.

He moved his hand once more and then he was unzipping his jeans and reaching into his pants, letting his cock spring free. He let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation; you were sure there was a thick feeling of relief that washed over him at the removal of any tight restriction on his erection. “C’mon, baby,” he cooed, and your eyes widened as he licked a wide stripe on his palm, returning his hand to his cock to give it a languid stroke. “I know you can do it.”

You gingerly dropped a hand to your waist, fiddling with the worn out elastic band of your panties. In front of you Joel let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes growing even darker at the sight of your hand getting closer to your mound, where there was certainly a puddle growing.

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he said gruffly, beckoning for you to step closer. “I know I said I wouldn’t touch, but holy fuck, dollface…I’ve never needed to feel something so bad in my life.”

You practically fell over your own two feet as you obeyed his request, stepping into the space between his legs. His cock was right there, and you wanted to put your tongue on the tip, to feel that bead of leaking seed that was sliding down the angry red head of his cock. “Joel—”

His only answer was with his two fingers pressing a featherlight touch to your bud, drawing a quick moan from your lips, your eyes closing and your hips rolling into the feeling.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby, I knew it,” Joel murmured, sitting forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. “You’re always so wet for me, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course you were; he knew this well enough now. But something about the fact that he kept asking…it only made you want him more.

“Joel, please,” you begged, rolling your hips into his hand again and moaning desperately at the press of his hand against your bud. “I need you to—”

He pulled his hand away and sat back again. “Not yet, dollface,” he reminded you, returning his hand to his cock. “You haven’t even touched yourself, darlin’,” he teased, his tone a mocking coo.

You let out another strangled whine, but shoved your hand into the waistband of your panties. “Fine,” you sighed, “but it won’t work.” As much as you wanted to come, you were reminded all too well of the last time he asked you to do this. You couldn’t obey his request, and he’d had to make you come all the same. So why would he make you go through the motions again?

Your finger caught on your clit and you inhaled sharply, eyes closing at the addictive sensation. You let your other hand slide up to your chest, instinctively massaging your own breast in the same way that Joel did—at least, as close of a replication as you could make.

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he said in that southern drawl that had you perpetually weak in the knees. “Lookin’ so good like that, sweetheart, good girl,” he drew out the last two syllables, his teeth audibly gritting as he stroked his cock faster.

You wanted to continue, wanted to hold onto the feeling of making him proud, but you didn’t know what to do. “Joel,” you begged, “I…” you trailed off.

Both of his hands came to your waist and you opened your eyes at one squeeze of your hips. “C’mere,” he groaned. “Just sit next to me, doll.” He helped you sit next to him, your head resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees came up to your chest, and he looped his thumbs into your panties, ridding you of them in a quick movement.

Your head was spinning with the hopes that he might give in, that he might not make this foolish game go on for much longer. It had only been a minute or two, but you never wanted to make yourself come if Joel was always going to be so willing. “Joel—”

“Spread those pretty legs for me, baby,” he whispered, his big hands on your knees. When you couldn’t move your legs on your own, he gently nudged them apart, his eyes darting down to your dripping mound. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hand hovering over your folds, “even more appetising than I remember.”

The implication made your head reel. Surely he wouldn’t…

But your thoughts were interrupted when he sat back at the other end of the couch, his cock sitting at the ready as he dragged his hand over it again. “I’m good at waiting, though,” he murmured to himself. “C’mon, princess,” he sighed, “just like we practiced. Hand on that pretty pussy, baby.”

The whine that left your throat was downright pornographic as you obeyed, the sound of his instructions shooting bullets of pleasure down your spine and straight to that sensitive bud at the crevice of your thighs.

Just like we practiced, he’d said. You had no desire to disappoint him; you wanted to prove to him that you could do this, you wanted to see that look of flushed pride on his face when he came again. When you’d make yourself come.

Your fingers slipped around your dripping cunt, still clumsy and untrained despite knowing just how Joel would make you come undone with his touch. You tried your best to replicate it, gliding your fingers in tight circles around your bud, or drawing long stripes in between your folds, but it just made you more frustrated. “Joel,” you whined again, “please.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. “You’re doing it, baby. Look at you, rubbin’ that pretty clit for all it’s worth.” His words were bruisingly confident, but his tone was shaky and the only evidence that he was dangerously close to coming before you.

“Joel, I—” you circled your clit once more— “I need you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, and you felt him shift closer to you—just a centimeter.

You pulled your own hand away from your clit, despite your body begging for more, and you looked for a moment at the shine on your fingers. “Joel,” you repeated, “I…I want you to tell me what to do.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “That so?” His movements had stopped.

You nodded, and couldn’t help the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” Somehow your legs dropped open even wider, exposing yourself to him further. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gave yourself entirely to him. “I’ll do it.”

Joel had turned his chest to face you, and he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, ya know?” he said, and you thought it was a minor jab at your eagerness until he dropped his hand back to his lap and you saw that blissed-out smile that you were learning to ache for. “‘Course I’ll tell you what to do. If that’s what you want,” he answered, and you almost came at the sound of his voice.

He shifted so his body was facing you; the sight of him with his shirt buttoned, his pants still on, but the zipper undone and his cock bobbing heavily as he moved…it was enough to have you rolling your eyes back. Joel Miller was sensational. The essence of sin and seduction, and you only wanted more.

“Lift this leg for me, baby,” he murmured as he lowered his chest to the couch. You let him move your ankle to rest on his shoulder, then the other ankle to match. “That’s it,” he cooed, “you’re such a quick learner, babydoll.”

You blushed at the nickname, and when he sank to his elbows with his eyes on your pussy, your eyes widened. “Joel—”

You’d heard of this type of pleasure, but you’d never thought it was something men actually did. When he looked up at you with that hungry look in his eye, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like one might do before eating an especially good meal, you realized another thing.

You’d never thought this could be something that men actually enjoyed.

“You want instruction, babygirl?” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh and chuckling when you shivered. “I’ll give you instruction. Lay back and let me take care of you. You’re always so good at that, yeah?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer before he was dipping his head down to your most sacred spot, where you needed him most. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them against his ears as if they were keeping him warm in the cold temperatures outside. With one stripe from your weeping entrance to your quivering bud, Joel nearly made you come on the spot.

“Joel, I’m gonna—”

He pulled back and smiled wickedly. “Already, baby? We’ve only just started,” he drawled, turning his head to kiss the inside of your other thigh. “Hold on to it for me, yeah? Gotta practice holding it for me, okay?”

You were too far gone to even grace his question with a response. All you could manage was a stuttering moan as you threw your head back and bucked your hips into his face, chasing your release.

Joel held your hips down with a light chuckle. “Wait, princess,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your clit before continuing, “you don’t wanna fail your lesson, do ya?”

The implication that something might happen—or decidedly not happen—if you were to come before he let you only spurred you on. “Joel, please—”

“Just a little longer, please, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle moan. His tongue grazed your clit once more and he closed his lips over your bud, suckling just lightly enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

It was then that you opened your eyes and looked at him; you wanted to see what he looked like with his mouth on your most sensitive spot if you were going to come. Your eyes caught on his hips, laid out on the couch further away from you. You blinked.

Joel was rutting into the couch. His hips were seemingly moving of their own accord, a smooth movement that was covered in sin and desperation. You thought about the fact that the curve of his hips would probably look like that if he were pressing his cock into you, and that was it.

Your voice broke over the sound of your whines, and paired with his fingers coming up to press into your entrance, you were done for. You came hard over his fingers, your moans so loud that you thought someone would hear you all the way back in Jackson. “JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you cried, feeling the familiar rise of emotions in your throat.

Joel pulled his head from your pussy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he smirked.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, although you weren’t sure you had the capacity to even be sorry just now; the sight of him getting off at the taste of you was enough to keep your mind busy for the next week. “I didn’t mean to—”

“S’okay, dollface,” he chuckled, “I forgive you. That pussy tastes too sweet to be mad about you comin’ all over my damn face.”

Your thighs lay open for another moment, and Joel absentmindedly put his hand over your clit to rub another gentle circle to your sensitive bud. He hummed when your hips bucked at the overstimulation before pulling his hand away.

Your eyes dropped to his cock, sitting rock hard and definitely not spent. You reached out with your hand again, sitting up. The effects of your orgasm were still heavy on your mind, but in a wordless movement you sank to your knees before him. “You didn’t come,” you said, more of a question than a statement.

He shook his head. “Don’t matter,” he said, patting a hand on your head. “That was just for you, doll.”

You frowned. “But—” you dipped your head down, aiming your mouth at his tip despite not knowing what to do beyond that. All you knew was that this was something he needed. The tip of his cock was leaking profusely now, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel.

“We haven’t practiced that one yet, pretty girl,” he said softly, and lifted your head from where it was aiming. “Trust me, doll, I want it just as bad as you want to give it to me.” He traced his thumb along the line of your nose, a habit that he’d been starting to pick up. “But we’ll do it when you’re ready.”

“Then I wanna practice,” you insisted, your knees digging into the cold wooden floor. You didn’t want to think about how you looked, your face showing the remnants of your orgasm and your entrance starting to drip once more at the thought of pleasing him. “Let me practice,” you repeated.

He smiled ruefully. “Got nothin’ to practice on, sweet thing,” he said softly. “We’ll practice another day.”

You took his hand wordlessly, not sure where this bout of confidence was coming from. It was like you were drunk on the thought of making him come. He let you hold his hand in yours, and with one look up at him, holding his eyes in your gaze, you opened your mouth to slide three of his fingers onto your tongue. He tasted like salt and the sweet release of your own body.

Joel jerked in your grip, his cock bobbing toward you and his hand nearly shoving itself all the way down your throat. “Holy fuck, doll,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “S’enough to make a man leave his wife.”

You chuckled, knowing he was spewing nonsense from his lips now, but you pressed his fingers further down your throat, only stopping when they brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

“That’s okay, babygirl,” he said with another affectionate pat on your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Thought I was doing well,” you said sheepishly when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. A string of spit connected his fingers to your lips.

He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are, dollface,” he said. “You are. Maybe it’s me who needs a second to regroup.”

You knew it wasn’t true; his angry red tip was more than enough of a conflicting response to his words. But you let him pick you up from the floor and cradle you in his arms over his lap, rubbing his hands in circles over your body. “You’ll let me make you feel good, though?” you asked softly.

Joel smiled. “‘Course,” he reassured you with a kiss on the cheek. “Next time,” he promised.

It was enough. You nodded and rested your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the gentle curtain of sleep cover you. “M’tired,” you whispered, every inhibition gone. This man had seen and touched every part of you; there was no point in being shy.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, and when his face wasn’t in between your legs, it was an awfully domestic phrase. “Just lemme hold your for a second. Then we’ll go back home.”

—

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get back on the horse, your clit sensitive and your whines hoarse with the constant friction as you rode back to Jackson. Your head had leaned back against Joel’s chest and he rested his chin against the top of your head, a constant warm presence as you rose from your post-orgasm haze.

A happy accident, a faraway voice mused in your head. One horse with Joel on patrol? A dream.

That is, until Tommy came out of the stables as you two approached.

“Why’d you leave her horse here?” he called out, and you felt Joel tense behind you. “You forget how to ride a damn horse, darlin’?” Tommy said to you with that same southern drawl that his older brother shared in his voice.

You blushed as Joel helped you down from his mount, and you hid your uncontrollable laughter behind your hand when he shared some tense words with his brother.

“Fuck off,” Joel finished, but by the look of his wide eyes and red cheeks, you knew it held no malice. He was embarrassed. He’d faked your horse’s injury so he could hold you close. The realization made your head whirl.

You walked off from the stables when the horse was returned to his stall, and you giggled when you heard Joel hurry to catch up with you.

He looked around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby, and then he delivered a quick swat to your ass, making you nearly trip in the snow. “S’not nice to laugh at an old man,” he said with a straight face, all business. But you could see the uncharacteristic rosiness in his cheeks, betraying his continued humiliation.

You weren’t sure where the confidence in your voice came from, but you sighed with a, “Yeah,” before nudging him with your elbow. “Can’t help it when it’s your own brother, Joel.”

He shook his head and your arm tingled when he reached out with his gloved hand to clasp onto yours. “What am I gonna do with you, dollface, huh?” he mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if you were meant to hear it until he looked down at you with a gentle smirk and a raised brow.

You shrugged, your own cheeks heating up at the implications of what you were about to say. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Make another lesson out of it, I suppose.”

Joel just stared at you, a smug expression on his face. He tore his eyes from yours and played the part of nonchalance when he responded smoothly, mirth twinkling in those brown eyes you’d grown so attached to. “Maybe I will.”

this is so sinful i'm so tipsy rn i hope you liked it!!!! tysm for reading i love u all <3

tags (i'm so sorry it wouldn't let me tag everyone!!! i'll do the rest of my tags in the morning!!!): @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @mingiast @darkroastjoel @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @buckbarnesdollsposts @kamcrazy123 @djarins-wife @lovelyladiess @impossiblebluebirdchaos @salsdemise @daddy-din @chaotic-mystery @laughcryreadsmutrepeat @prose-before-hoes-blog @morgaussy @thepriceofdevotion @chateausophie @livyjh @kittenlittle24 @ever-siince-new-york @julietamidala @3xclusive-y0ni @paanchusblog @okdeedee @scarletsloveletter @paleidiot @cleopatra99 @samuncenxsored @yourfavoriteredheadbitch-blog @brie-annwyl @spxctorsslxt @pattwtf @meijasworldasf @easaud @yuk-for-president @withrice-ontoast @ssssc0m @nini123 @bookishofalder @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

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karasuno-planet · 1 year ago

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Hallo😆 how about some of the karasnuno boys when they have a crush headcanons?? If u don't wanna do multiple characters, that's ok!! I'd love kageyama headcanons!!

Karasuno boys having a crush HCs <3

includes: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Nishinoya, Daichi

a/n: YESSSS TY FOR THE REQUEST and here's some cutesy hcs to fluff u up !!

Kageyama Tobio:

he would avidly deny it but he is suuuuch a blusher, he just turns pink at the slightest things

acts totally cool, but everyone on the team notices his sets are faster when you're at a game

if you help him with his homework suddenly he seems locked in, until you look up at him and realize he's sneaking looks at you

even with your help his grades do not improve im sorry

totally checks you out with the full look up and down without realizing he's doing it

thinks he's really slick but the entire team knows about his crush

would try to smile at you but give you the creepy grimace by accident 😭

if you asked him to work out with you he would push himself wayyy too hard to impress you, probably gets yelled at by Ukai at the next practice

makes extreme effort to give compliments, gets coaching from his sister

GIFT GIVING- always little things like a drink from the vending machine

regardless of your skill or lack of skill at volleyball he would ask you to throw to him or hit his sets

"Why are you always looking at my hands?" swbfvouyqwrbefnh

Tsukishima Kei:

struggles to not just avoid you like the plague when he gets a crush

wants you to come to games but would never ask you, if you do show up he would play way harder

he's actually kinda good about being discreet about it, but yamaguchi definitely knows and encourages him to confess

always fiddling with a pen in his hand when he talks to you in class

"Do you think I should grow my hair a little longer?" "Why? Do you think y/n would like it??" "Shut up."

has a nervous compulsion to push up his glasses

makes playlists about you that he would only share after like yearsss of a relationship with you

low-key gives you sass and would love it if you reciprocated that. and that's def not the only thing he wants you to reciprocate.

if you were in his advanced classes he would kind of initiate an academic rivals thing, but if you weren't he would offer you help with your classes.

chat should I write a tsukki academic rival fic?? edit- the fic has been made <3 find it here!

Nishinoya Yu!

he's a bold mfer but a little shy when you give him any attention in return

would ask your favorite color just to show up at school the next day with this blond streak dyed whatever color you say

tanaka knows. he fs knows. and they avidly abuse the word rizz.

noya is a little embarrassed that he's a pervert when he has a serious crush 💀

makes nicknames for you

would ask you to come to games to watch him play, and smile at you when he made an impressive save

stands up really straight when you're around to make himself a little taller

goes absolutely crazy if you compliment him. happiest boy alive.

"You should call me Noya-Kun"

figures out what kind of music you listen to and then posts stories with it

will "jokingly" flirt with you

"wait, did that make you nervous..? If I didn't know better it might seem like you like me...!! oooooOoooooo"

Daichi Sawamura:

CLASSIC HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND

he's got that promposal planned

would love for you to come to games and would give you his jersey

is honestly shameless about having a crush, and if it went on for long enough without anything happening between you he might just casually confess

rubs the back of his neck when you talks to you

he kinda speaks quieter/softer when he's alone with you

keeps his crush kinda quiet but definitely tells people he's close with, this makes Asahi act particularly nervous around you because he's scared of giving you a bad impression!

is very protective of you but not in an obnoxious way

always offering to walk you home

typical movie-star smiles at you all the time

takes notice of you and compliments you really genuinely

"Did you do your makeup today? It looks great."

[masterlist]

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wabatle · 1 year ago

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Wawawawawawawbatle i am here to req a chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, and bachira meguru ! :3

Im thinking them with a gf who like cooks and cleans and kind of like wife material? But when char ever brings it up she gets all shy and flustered

Ty!

☆~Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Nagi, and Reo with a wife material girlfriend

wabatle nonsense:

i added reo and then was like: well i might as well add isagi

so yeah

edit: TY FOR 100 LIKES (also 100+ notes)

edit edit: HELLO??? TY FOR 200 NOTES!!

edit edit edit: TYSM FOR 300 NOTES!! THIS IS CRAZY

warnings: none~

☆~Yoichi Isagi

Honestly…Isagi doesn't really mind what you do, he just loves you anyway

But, with you being so amazing and all, he just wants to love you more

He admires you and how quick you are to respond to things, like if he spills something you're quick to clean it up

Because of this, he wants to compliment you on a regular basis, but feels bad because of how flustered it makes you

He also loves how your food tastes, partly because it's made by you, but mostly because you make it so darn well

He can't help but tell you how good your cooking is, but he'll apologize right after because your face is so red

☆~Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri thinks you're adorable, especially when you get all red when he tells you so

So, sometimes he teases you for it, but other times he'll tell you there's nothing to be embarrassed about and that you're just amazing and then you respond with being even more flustered

I'd like to think that everyday when he's on his way home, all he can think about is getting to eat your cooking. Like, seriously, this man is on his way home thinking, “I wonder what (name) cooked tonight… whatever it is, it's gonna be so good, as per usual from my amazing (name).”

And how you keep the house clean— genuinely he couldn't appreciate you more.

☆~Meguru Bachira

Bachira literally loves this, and you, so much!!

He loves how spotless you keep the house, especially because when he helps you cook, he makes a mess

He also tends to rip his shirts and jerseys a lot, and he loves that you fix them for him so that way here can wear them again

Like Chigiri, he also literally dreams about your food. Like when you're sleeping, wake up and you'll catch him literally drooling while dreaming about your food

He also likes it when you take a cloth and wipe his face if he got dirt or anything on it while he was practicing

He would of course tease you for being so flustered, but he'll apologize in a silly way and continue to compliment you

☆~Seishiro Nagi

Nagi appreciates how much you take care of him, because he finds it to be such a hassle

So, when he gets home to find freshly made food on the table, he can't help but want to kiss you

He actually loves your food though, he thinks that you should open a restaurant because people from all around the world would come to eat your out-of-this-world cooking

And then, you clean up after him perfectly, leaving him to be able to go to bed

And he walks into a spotless room, every speck of clothing or dust taken care of

Yup… he really is gonna want to cling to you as a thank you

☆~Reo Mikage

Ughhhghfh my man

Okay but in all seriousness, he appreciates and loves you for everything!

Reo loves that you're always willing to clean, but he wishes that you would ask him to help every once in a while

He does really like coming home to a hot meal waiting for him, but he has to crash into your arms first

Then, while he's eating, he watches you clean and sweep around the house, but what he really wants is you to sit down and enjoy the meal with him

He'll tell you how much he loves you, not intending for you to get so flustered, so he'll kiss you lots as an apology, but tell you he seriously needs to compliment you

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #‹𝟹 — emi's writings

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bunlaozu · 2 months ago

Text

April Showers

[Redacted] X Reader

type: angst? fluff at the end for u

word count: 1881

warnings: cw for lots of tears

this one is formatted a bit differently, i probably won't develop any sort of style for this for a while but! this time i have some hurt comfort for u, can u tell i love Redacted :3

once again pls don't mind the grammar,,, i was having it edited but ultimately decided to post it before it was finished for one of my friends, ty glasses for ur work tho <33

It was late April, and the spring rains finally decided to roll through Corland bay. The rain kept the two of you inside, as it did most Sundays, too dreary and wet to make use of the final day of the weekend before a new work week began. Usually, Sundays were chore days, a time for sweeping the floors, doing leftover dishes from the previous day, and washing the pile of work clothes from the previous week that no one had had the energy to do.

All the chores were done now and the late afternoon haze cast a cool blue on the living room behind half closed curtains.The setting sun was absent behind thick heavy clouds that rumbled with unshed rain and carried along cool ocean swept winds. The tv was set to a soft volume, some reality show played out its overly obnoxious sound effects that usually, as per routine, was only on for you to giggle at. Redacted laid in his usual spot at the curve of the L-shaped couch, the cushions pressed in from the times the two of you spent in this exact space week after week, with you in his arms watching bad late night tv. He looked like a spoiled cat this way, lounged out on bent cushions not meant for cats to sit on, but clearly understood no one would have the heart to force him up.

Usually, this time spent was relaxing; something soothing and soft before the start of a new stressful work week while Redacted softly ran his fingers through your hair and looked at his phone with the other, a routine.

Tonight was different. Maybe it was the deep thunder rolling through the house, cutting through the gentle evening sounds, or the patter of heavy rains beginning against the large living room panes. Maybe it was the lack of time spent at home this weekend, Friday spent in overtime, errands around the bay, or unfortunate inconveniences keeping you from home. Maybe it was none of that or maybe it was just this; the tv on low just for you, the soft blanket thrown over your legs, your favorite even, the fingers carding softly through your hair and the gentle breaths from above, reminding you that you weren't alone tonight or any night.

Your heart felt tight in your chest and your breath felt rough in a drowning sort of way, like maybe the heavy rains had been pouring into your chest this whole time creating a pool of murky reds. It had clung like a sharp thorned vine all week, small things keeping you from home, little things that maybe would be a bigger fight a week from now lingering stuck to your mind like mold. You wondered to yourself how you'd got here, after only a few months now living together domestically, happy, perfect.. but when did anything perfect stay as it was.

Of course nothing had changed, Redacted was nothing but attentive and sweet, charming and teasing, careful and considerate, and yet. You stared ahead at the small table below your tv where you kept your small knick knacks and plants that you decorated your home together with, the tv drone becoming a faded buzz in the background. It was a small shard of your home, a mix of the both of you so simple but was it really? Maybe tonight was different, maybe one day Redacted would stop meaning everything he said, everything he did for you.. he changed once entirely in the beginning, didn't he? You thought with a growing unease of the pink and pastels, the soft sanitary version you'd been shown of your love when you'd met. It wasn't that it was for a lack of trust in him that you spiraled, but more the question, when will he lose his trust in me? When will I be nothing?

It didn't take too long for him to notice your unnatural stillness, the kind of forced stillness that annoyingly makes you twitch anyways because of course he would notice, his eyes are only ever on you as if the tv’s glow didn't exist. Redacted's fingers stilled in your hair as he shifted slightly under where your head laid, his gentle concern radiating from him in waves.

"Angel..?" his voice was only just above a whisper, giving the impression he didn't want to break the softness of the evening lest you shatter. (so sweet, too sweet, undeserving.) He tugged you gently upward off his lap to guide your head onto his chest, holding you closer and bringing the soft throw blanket previously on your legs, back around your shoulders.

"Are you ok? Tell me so I can help." he murmured, his fingers finding their way back to your hair to play with. Your eyes stung the moment the words left him, the curtains you were facing going blurry from the water logging your eyes as you refused to look his way. It felt so deeply unfair to have this, the ocean deep divine worship of such a perfect person after so many years apart, your own doing.

Despite this you didn't move, putting a blanket covered hand over your eyes to pad away the warm tears only made worse by the frustration that they fell at all, before finally speaking up in a soft crackling cadence. "You.. you love me- right? Are you.. sure this is what you want?" The second the words left your mouth you cringed, threatening to shy away from his gentle ministrations in an effort to escape the suffocating sweetness.

Redacted seemed to falter for only a moment at the question, a stillness in his frame and a pause in his petting that was still just enough to notice, making you feel unusually cold. “‘Course i love you m’ angel, did.. I say somethin'?" he said with nothing but sincerity, his own voice seeming raw from such an accusation. Redacted seemed not angry or sad, only worried about anything he'd done that could have given you doubt today.

A choked off sob finally bubbled out of your throat, practically suffocating your words. "No! I.. what if? You have me, what's next? What if that's just enough and then-" the words ended in an agonized sound as you did your best to turn away from him to hide your tears. “Wha- what if i get boring one day? or- what if you find someone better? I d-dont want you to go..” the words came out more as a wobbly whine, the tears choking you every few moments as if they didn't wish the words to be said. the evening seemed daunting in a way, the end of the week, the end of a day, the start of a storm.

He cut you off gently before you can begin again with a kiss, not one unkind or meant to silence you but a bone deep compassion for your anxieties. The salt of the tears and the sweetness of cherry and mint mixing together on your lips was a grounding combination, a balm on your cracked open vine wrapped chest. He kissed you and kissed you, breathing sweet nothings and a bottomless devotion into your mouth till the tears finally slowed. His warm steady hands on your cheeks drew soft stars on your skin, reminding you exactly where you were.

He pulled back only just enough to run his stormy blue over your face, a sort of sad smile running into the creases of his face and behind his eyes looking almost like the clouds just outside the windows. "I love you. s'you and always you, y'hear?" he said resolutely, brushing a strand of hair from your face in a gentle affection so painfully sweet that the tears poured down your cheeks silently in fat droplets you were helpless to stop.

"Only you... only you." he practically prayed into your skin as he kissed your temple, your nose, your cheeks, kissing until you choked out a wet broken giggle. Redacted's smile at the sound was like the sunset after heavy rains, a soft glowing thing but this sunset was only for you. He kept you there like this, lavishing prayers of love upon your skin with each gentle caress and kiss for a limitless amount of time, maybe minutes or hours or no time at all.

"I love you too, y'know? And- and so sometimes I think- I'm just glad, is all.." you said softly with a sniffle, trying to wipe your face with the back of your hand only for your partner to catch your wrist. Redacted gently pulled your hand to his chest instead before taking his own scarred fingers to gently swipe the water away, the rough pad of his fingers so light on your cheeks it was almost as if he was swiping the rain droplets from a petal. "Well stop thinkin' so much hm? It’s bad f'you." he said with that grin of his, the one that reminded you of sunny afternoons at lake Bluemoss and multi-colored band-aids, the one you couldn't help grin back at no matter how hard you tried.

He held you against his chest and rocked you back and forth gently, where nothing needed to be said because this already meant everything. The silence wasn't a deafening thing, it was something in company with the storm pattering against the windows and the love inside your home that created its own noise. Suddenly the thunder wasn't so loud in your ears and the rain wasn't so heavy, maybe it would be a clear Monday morning tomorrow and the work ahead wasn't so crushing. You laid there slowly relaxing into his warm hold, dozing lightly to the sound of his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breaths against your ear.

The next moment you blinked your eyes open you were alone on the sofa with the throw blanket drawn up to your shoulders. The windows were peacefully dark now and the warm light of the kitchen replaced the earlier evening glow. The rain was only a pitter patter dying as the night crept in, making way for a chilly breezy morning tomorrow. As you sat up confused and exhausted and looked around, Redacted was approaching the couch with a bag of take out and two plates in hand, an exasperated smile on his face seeing you'd immediately woken up.

"Jus' can't let me surprise you, hm? I bought your favorite. Let's eat yea?" he said as he sat down and opened up the delicious smelling paper bag, making the both of you plates full of warm, amazing smelling food.

The rest of the evening was full of soft laughter and a better tv show, ending how it began with your head in his lap and his hands in your hair. The laundry got done eventually of course not by you, and the dishes were somehow done before the morning as well even if you'd forgotten to help with that in the sleepy haze post cry. Maybe he did need to carry you to bed at the end of the night too but maybe pretending to be asleep for that bit was worth it.

#14 days with you #14dwy ren #14dwy redacted #14dwy

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pandapetals · 7 months ago

Text

Electric Fever

Logan is tired of your attitude so he shuts you up by fucking you on the kitchen table.

dofp!logan howlett x fem!reader - logan is a bit of an ass, no y/n used, no reader description (but has the outfit pictured), cussing, reader has fiery personality, 70s setting, smut, oral, p in v sex, sweetheart/gorgeous/darlin pet names used, dirty talk, slight rough sex, teasing - check out part two

a/n: Inspired by my favorite tiktok editor @sssiredsss and the weeknd’s part in the the song or nah by ty dolla sign — everyone go watch this edit (https://www.tiktok.com/@sssiredsss/video/7434619192122379553?lang=en). Idk what this is…plot what plot…just roll with it. Reader is very much inspired by daisy jones and her fiery personality. I don’t write smut much so sorry if it sucks also probably will never write smut again because this took like 3 days to write…smut is way harder to write idk why i don’t make the rules.

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan yanked the car to a halt with a screech that turned a few heads on the crowded street. The engine rumbled in protest, but his growl drowned it out as he twisted toward you.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” His voice was low and gravelly, like the crackle of a vinyl record, but sharp enough to cut.

You snorted, your laugh bitter and razor-edged. “Please. Like you’re any better. You’re the most insufferable asshole I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Your glare burned into him, hot enough to scorch through his aviators.

Logan’s jaw flexed as he let out a loud, exaggerated tsk. “Big talk for someone who never shuts up. You’ve got a mouth on you, sweetheart. Always running it, always—”

You didn’t let him finish. “I wouldn’t have to if you learned to shut the fuck up first,” you snapped, shoving the passenger door open. It swung wide and hard, nearly smacking the car parked nearby.

Your boots hit the pavement with a sharp, deliberate rhythm as you marched across the street toward your apartment, your bag bouncing on your shoulder. You didn’t bother looking back. Logan could talk to himself for all you cared.

“Hey!” Logan’s shout cut through the sidewalk chatter. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

The sound of his car door slamming echoed behind you. You didn’t stop. Didn’t even break stride.

The heavy thud of his boots was quick to follow, pounding against the pavement as he weaved through annoyed pedestrians, a few cursing under their breath when he barreled past.

You reached your building and dug into your bag for the keys, fingers fumbling against the clutter at the bottom. The old brass door squeaked on its hinges as you shoved it open and stepped inside. “What does it look like?” you tossed over your shoulder. “I’m going inside. Why don’t you do us both a favor and run back to your shitty car?”

Logan groaned behind you, loud and impatient as his hand caught the door before you could slam it. It flew open again with a force that startled you. He stepped into the hallway like he owned the place, closing the door behind him with a firm shove.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, gorgeous.” The corners of his mouth twitched, a cocky smirk fighting its way to the surface. The sunglasses he had been wearing were gone revealing his piercing hazel eyes.

You froze mid-step, the word barely registering as your blood boil. Gorgeous? Did he think this was some kind of game?

“Haven’t you caused me enough problems for one lifetime?” You whirled on him, jabbing a finger into his chest. He was solid, all muscle and tension under that leather jacket, but you didn’t care. “I mean, seriously, why are you still here? Leave. Find someone else to ruin their fucking day.”

Logan’s hand shot up, gripping your wrist before you could jab him again. His grip was firm, just enough to stop you in your tracks. His expression darkened, that smirk slipping into something far less amused.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “I’d love to leave. You’re giving me a goddamn headache. But Charles would skin me alive if I walked away now. So, why don’t you save us both some time and just show me to your apartment.”

Your teeth clenched, but his grip loosened, and you ripped your hand away. The hallway seemed smaller now, narrower, the tension between you suffocating. Without another word, you turned and stormed up the stairs, your boots thudding against the creaky wood.

When you reached your apartment, your hands betrayed you, fumbling with the keys again. A muttered curse slipped out before you finally shoved the key into the lock, but it was too late. Logan was already behind you.

“You’re really bad at this, you know that?” he drawled. His tone was cool and casual, but you could feel the heat of his presence looming over your shoulder.

The door slammed open, and you stomped inside, dropping your bag onto the floor with a loud thud. You kicked the edge of the sofa with the heel of your boot for good measure, the frustration radiating off you like steam.

“What the hell do you want , Logan?” you snapped, spinning to face him. He was already standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his broad shoulders filling the space like he belonged there. “What’s it going to take for you to fuck off, huh? Because I’m pretty sure Charles didn’t tell you to babysit me.”

He didn’t move, didn’t flinch. If anything, the smirk was back, tugging at the edge of his lips like this was all some kind of cosmic joke.

“You think this is funny?” you spat, taking a step closer. “Let me tell you something, big guy. I don’t need you or anyone else following me around like some overprotective, overgrown guard dog . I’m a grown-ass woman. I can handle myself.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head like he was sizing you up. “You can handle yourself, huh?” He took a step forward, closing the gap between you until you had to tilt your chin to glare up at him. “Funny, ‘cause from where I’m standing, you look like someone who’s about to fall apart the second I walk out that door.”

Your nostrils flared, the heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re such a—”

Before you could finish, he cut you off with a raised hand. “Save it.” His voice was calmer now, steadier. “I’m not here to make your life easier, sweetheart. I’m here because I have to be. So why don’t you quit yelling at me and start accepting the fact that you’re stuck with me—for now, anyway.”

You stared at him, your chest heaving, a thousand retorts swirling in your mind but none strong enough to make it out. Logan looked down at you almost daring you to speak again.

“Fine,” you said at last, voice tight. “But if you’re staying, you better stay the fuck out of my way.”

You spun on your heel and marched toward the kitchen, your boots hitting the floor hard enough to echo through the apartment. When you reached the tiled edge, you kicked them and your lace cardigan off without ceremony. The boots landed with a loud thud against the wall, one tipping over like it had given up.

Behind you, Logan stayed put, still leaning in the doorway like he owned the place. His shoulders rested against the frame, arms folded, and that leather jacket stretched tight over his chest. He watched you like he had all the time in the world and nowhere better to be.

“Close the damn door, will you?” you snapped over your shoulder. You didn’t wait for a response before yanking the fridge open, the cool air brushing against your face as you scanned the cluttered shelves. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

The sharp slam of the front door made you flinch, the sound rattling the small apartment. A second later, you heard his heavy boots crossing the floor behind you.

“I can hear you, you know,” he drawled, his voice gravelly, edged with annoyance.

You straightened, grabbing a beer bottle before turning to face him. “Good,” you shot back, popping the cap off with practiced ease and taking a long, deliberate swig. The cold beer slid down your throat as your eyes met his, unflinching. “As if I care.”

Logan was closer than you expected. He hadn’t stopped in the doorway this time. Instead, he stood just a few steps away, his broad frame taking up too much space in the already cramped kitchen. His scowl was firmly in place, but there was something else behind it—a flicker of heat, of something darker, smoldering just beneath the surface.

“You told me to stay out of your way,” he said, his tone sharp but quieter now, almost like a warning. His eyes flicked downward for the briefest second, and that’s when you caught it—a subtle shift, a momentary hesitation. His gaze lingered on your chest, just long enough for you to notice.

The thin white fabric of your tank top clung to your skin, made worse by the lingering summer heat in the apartment. You could feel the weight of his attention before his eyes darted back up to your face, his jaw tightening like he was trying to shove the thought away.

You swallowed the rest of your beer in one long pull, refusing to let him see how the moment made your stomach flip. “Guess you’re not so good at following orders,” you quipped, letting the empty bottle clink against the counter as you set it down.

Logan’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “Depends on the order,” he said, his voice lower now, almost testing you.

The air between you thickened with the unspoken tension crackling like a live wire. He didn’t step back but neither did you.

“You don’t strike me as someone who takes orders,” you replied, your voice steady, though the heat in his gaze made it harder to keep your composure.

“Smart girl.” His tone was mocking, but his eyes told a different story. They dipped again, almost imperceptibly, before locking on yours. He leaned against the counter, his posture casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his body seemed to gravitate toward yours.

You folded your arms across your chest, partially out of defiance, partially because you could still feel the phantom heat of his gaze. “So why don’t you do yourself a favor and leave ?”

Logan’s head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable now, except for the faintest twitch of his lips. “What makes you think I’d listen to you?”

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to glare at him, unwavering. “Because if you don’t, I might do something we both regret.”

His brow arched, and for a second, it looked like he might laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed off the counter, closing the space between you in one unhurried step. His heat was suffocating now, his presence too big for the small room. The air seemed to have grown thinner by the second.

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice quiet but deliberate like he was daring you to answer. Logan slipped off his leather jacket letting it hit the floor.

Your breath hitched, barely noticeable but enough for his sharp senses to catch it. Logan’s sharp gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and in that charged second, everything else seemed to fade—the sound of the street outside, the hum of the fridge, even the broken rhythm of your heartbeat.

He closed the space between you in a single, deliberate step. His hands were rough as they found your waist, fingers curling against the thin fabric of your tank top. Before you could process it, you were off the floor, his grip strong enough to lift you effortlessly. A soft gasp escaped your lips as your thighs parted instinctively, his hips brushing against your knees as he settled you onto the edge of the kitchen counter.

His body was close—too close—heat radiating off him in waves that seemed to seep into you, blurring the lines between where he ended and you began.

Logan’s lips found yours, hungry and unrelenting, stealing what little breath you had left. There was nothing soft about it—no hesitation, no pretense. It was raw, fiery like the tension that had been building between you for far too long had finally erupted. His stubble scraped against your skin leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched.

His hand moved, fingers skimming the bare skin at the small of your back where your tank top had ridden up, his touch rough but achingly deliberate. Your breath hitched, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging at it, the soft cotton bunching in your hands.

His palm slid higher along your spine, dragging the thin material of your top with it, his touch searing a path up your skin. When he pulled you toward him, it wasn’t a question—it was a command your body couldn’t disobey.

You should’ve stopped him. Should’ve shoved him back and told him to leave, to get the hell out of your apartment. But even thinking it felt like a lie. You knew exactly what Logan did to you—how everything about him, from the gravel in his voice to the roughness of his hands, had your body burning in ways you’d never admit out loud.

Your legs tightened around his waist, instinctive, betraying the heat pooling low in your stomach. His body was solid between your thighs, heat radiating off him like he was built for nothing but trouble.

Logan’s lips hovered just above yours, teasingly close. His breath fanned over your mouth, warm and unrelenting, before he spoke, his voice low and taunting. “You gonna yell at me to leave again?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every pulse hammering through you like a warning you couldn’t heed. “Maybe,” you shot back, but your voice came out softer than you intended, the bite in your words dulled by the ache he’d already stirred in you.

That smug smirk of his returned, slow and infuriating, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips before rising again to meet your gaze. “Didn’t think so.”

Before you could reply, his hands shifted again. In one swift, fluid movement, he gripped the hem of your tank top and pulled it over your head, the thin fabric gone in an instant. Cool air kissed your bare skin, and you gasped, instinctively leaning into him, your hands fumbling for his shirt.

You tugged it upward, fingers brushing the rough texture of his skin as you peeled it off him, revealing his broad chest. The muscles beneath were taut and dusted with dark hair, his tan skin marked with faint scars that told stories you’d never ask about.

Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling the heat of him beneath your hands, solid and unyielding. Logan’s eyes flicked down to your body, and his lips parted, his breath coming slower, heavier now.

He leaned in. His head dipped, lips brushing the delicate curve of your neck, the touch sending a shiver racing down your spine. His mouth moved lower, the scrape of his stubble making your skin tingle as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat and your collarbone, until he reached the valley between your breasts.

Your head fell back, hands still splayed against his chest, fingers flexing against the warmth of his skin. “Logan,” you said in a broken gasp, a sound you couldn’t take back, even if you wanted to.

Logan paused at the sound, his lips lingering against your skin. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours again, darker now, his smirk replaced by something far more dangerous—far more consuming.

"Didn’t think you’d be so quiet," Logan murmured, his voice gravelly, thick with heat. His thumb brushed along your side, just below your ribs, the deliberate motion drawing another jolt through you. His gaze darkened, settling on you like he was savoring the way you unraveled beneath his touch. "Guess I’m gonna have to fix that."

Before you could retort, his hand shifted, cupping your breast with a firm, almost possessive grip. The warmth of his calloused palm seared your skin as your breath stuttered, the softest gasp slipping past your lips. His lips followed—rough, unyielding.

The first sweep of his tongue against your nipple stole whatever biting remark you’d had planned. Your back arched involuntarily, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it. He was relentless, his lips hot and insistent as they worked over you, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shockwave of heat straight through your core.

You didn’t want to react. You didn’t want him to know how easily he had you—how every scrape of his stubble, every rough pull of his lips left you trembling. But the noises spilling from your mouth betrayed you, and when he switched to your other breast, his low, gravelly groan of approval only made it worse.

"Fuck, Logan," you gasped, your hands curling into fists against the counter as he pulled back, his lips red and glistening. You were a mess already—flushed, breathless.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with that maddening mix of cockiness and heat. "Gee, darlin’. A man never touched you before?"

You glared at him, though the breathlessness in your voice betrayed any real venom. "Plenty have, asshole," you shot back, lifting your hips slightly as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your cutoffs.

Logan raised a brow, his smirk widening as he slid the denim down your thighs with unhurried ease, letting it pool at your ankles. His fingers brushed against the bare skin of your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Guess you just really like me then," he muttered, the teasing edge in his voice enough to make your blood boil and your pulse race all at once.

You opened your mouth to fire back, but his hands slid down your thighs, pulling your legs apart. And then he was kneeling, his broad shoulders wedging between your legs as his lips brushed against the inside of your thigh.

"Logan—" Whatever warning you were about to give dissolved into a choked gasp as his mouth found your clit. He wasn’t gentle—his tongue flicked and dragged over you with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. Your hands shot out, gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself as your knees buckled, the stubble on his jaw scraping against the sensitive skin of your thighs.

"Fuck, faster," you gasped, your head falling back as pleasure rippled through you in waves. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady, his fingers digging into your skin as his mouth worked you over with unrelenting precision.

Your thighs trembled, threatening to close around his head, but his grip only tightened, keeping you open for him. His groan sent vibrations through you, pulling broken, breathy cries from your lips.

It didn’t take long—his tongue, his mouth, the way his beard scraped deliciously against your skin—it was too much, too fast. Your body arched off the counter as pleasure surged through you, heat pooling and then spilling over as you came apart with a strangled cry of his name.

Logan stood slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his smirk turning feral as he took you in—flushed, panting, still trembling against the counter. "Goddamn, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Didn’t think you’d look this good falling apart for me."

You glared at him, or at least you tried to, your legs still weak beneath you. "You’re such an asshole," you managed, though the breathy tremor in your voice ruined the effect.

Logan chuckled, stepping closer and gripping your waist to pull you flush against him. "Yeah? Doesn’t seem to bother you much," he teased, his lips brushing yours in a rough, heated kiss that left you gasping all over again.

"Now why don’t you put me down and fuck off," you quipped, though the heat in your tone made the words feel less like a demand and more like a challenge.

He tilted his head, his smirk widening as he pressed a kiss to the curve of your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin in a way that sent another shiver down your spine. "Oh, I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low and dangerous tone. "Were you finished? ‘Cause I’m just getting started."

Before you could react, he pulled you down from the counter and spun you around, his hands gripping your hips and guiding you toward the edge of the wooden table. The cool surface met your flushed skin, the contrast pulling a gasp from your lips as he pressed you forward.

"Logan," you groaned, twisting slightly to glance back at him, but whatever you were about to say vanished the moment you felt him behind you. There was no denying how badly you needed him.

His jeans hit the floor with a quiet rustle, the sound of his boots being kicked off following shortly after. One hand pressed firmly against the small of your back, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, while the other teased along your thigh.

You bit your lip, anticipation curling low in your stomach as the head of his cock brushed against your folds.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" Logan’s voice was a low growl, rough and teasing as his thumb traced lazy circles over your hip.

Your lips parted, a sharp breath escaping, but your words got tangled between indignation and pure, unfiltered want. The cool surface of the table grounded you, but the heat radiating from him was impossible to ignore, stealing whatever composure you had left.

"Just do it," you finally bit out, your voice shaking—not from fear or nerves, but from the maddening tension he had drawn tight between you.

Logan chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. His fingers gripped your hip tighter like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to tease you further or finally give in. "So impatient," he muttered, his breath brushing the back of your neck as he leaned over you. "You gotta learn to ask nicely."

You turned your head just enough to glare at him, fire still flashing in your eyes despite the way your body trembled under his touch. "I’m not asking you for shit," you shot back, though the breathlessness in your voice took some of the edge off your words.

He smirked again, that maddening, cocky grin that made you want to slap him and kiss him in equal measure. "Suit yourself," he said, and then you felt him—hot, thick, and unrelenting as he finally pressed into you, his movements slow, deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second.

Your head dropped forward, a soft gasp slipping from your lips as your fingers curled around the edge of the table. Logan’s grip on your hips tightened, holding you steady as he filled you completely, the stretch enough to steal the air from your lungs.

"Fuck," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “Don’t stop, keep going.”

Logan let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His hands flexed against your skin, his nails biting into your hips just enough to make you gasp again. “Wanted me to fill you with my cock?”

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back just enough to leave you wanting, then slammed into you again, rough and unapologetic, setting a rhythm that had your body arching against the table, every thrust sending a new wave of heat spiraling through you.

"That shut you up," he muttered, his voice rough and strained, though there was still a teasing edge to it, even now. “Fuck, you're taking me so well.”

You tried to fire back, to give him some snarky reply, but the words dissolved into a broken moan as his pace quickened, his movements growing more desperate, more consuming. Your nails dug into the wood of the table, your knuckles whitening as you tried—and failed—to steady yourself against the onslaught.

"Logan—" His name escaped your lips in a breathy gasp, the sound drawing a satisfied growl from deep in his chest. “Oh god, fuck me harder.”

"That’s more like it," he murmured, leaning over you until his chest was pressed against your back. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "Knew you’d sound good for me."

His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, but it was the way his hand slid down your stomach, fingers dipping lower until he found the spot that had you seeing stars, that undid you completely.

Your whole body tensed, your thighs trembling as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Logan’s hand worked in perfect rhythm with his hips, his rough growls mingling with your breathless cries as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" His voice was strained now, the cockiness giving way to something raw.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent answer as your body gave in, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your muscles clenched around him, your cries muffled by the table as your fingers curled into fists, your entire body trembling with the force of it.

"Use your words. Tell me how good I make you feel," Logan growled, his voice low and rough, a challenge simmering beneath the command. His hands moved to your hips, holding you in place as he hovered over you, his breath hot against your ear.

But all you could muster was a soft, broken whimper, your lips parting uselessly as your body betrayed you, trembling beneath his touch.

Logan let out a low chuckle, the sound dripping with amusement and just enough arrogance to make your stomach flip. "What’s the matter, gorgeous?" he drawled, his tone mockingly sweet. "You’ve been running that mouth all day, and now you’ve got nothin’ to say?"

Your hands gripped the edge of the table tighter, your knuckles whitening as heat bloomed across your skin. The words were there, somewhere, tangled up in the haze of him—the press of his body against yours, the gravel in his voice, the way he moved like he knew exactly what made you a moaning mess.

Logan wasn’t about to let you off easy. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. "C’mon," he teased, his voice a low purr. "You were so good at tellin’ me what to do earlier. Where’s all that fight now?"

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sound rising in your throat, but it escaped anyway—a soft, needy whine that only made his smirk widen.

"That’s more like it," he muttered, his hands sliding up your sides, rough palms brushing over your ribs as he shifted closer. He was deliberate, torturously slow, his movements calculated to keep you on the edge. "Didn’t think I’d shut you up this fast. Guess I underestimated myself."

" Logan —" you managed, your voice hoarse, your body arching instinctively toward him.

He cocked his head, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned back just enough to look at you properly, his smirk turning downright wicked. "There she is," he said, his tone laced with mock approval. "Thought I lost you for a second."

Your glare might’ve carried more weight if you weren’t gasping for air, your pulse hammering in your ears. Before you could retort, his hand slid lower, fingers dipping between your thighs in a way that had your head dropped forward, a broken moan spilling from your lips as your body jerked against his hand.

“You’re killin’ me here, sweetheart,” Logan groaned, his voice rough and fraying at the edges. His rhythm faltered for a moment, “Fucking clenching around me so hard... I know you wanna come again.”

Your body answered before your words could. The tension coiled deep in your core snapped hard and fast, a gasp tearing from your throat as the wave crashed over you. Your legs trembled, your release spilling over and dripping down your thighs, soaking him in the process.

Logan cursed under his breath, his voice catching as his hips stuttered against yours. “Atta girl,” he muttered, his tone low and gravelly, thick with satisfaction. “Now hold still.”

His fingers dug into your skin, holding you steady as he buried himself deep inside you one final time. His movements stilled, and for a moment, all you could feel was the press of his chest against your back, his breath warm and ragged against your neck. A low growl rumbled in his throat, vibrating through your skin, as his release hit him, sharp and unrelenting.

The room fell still, the air heavy with the aftershocks of everything that had just unfolded. The only sounds left were your ragged breaths and the low hum of the fridge in the corner—a quiet, grounding reminder that the world outside still existed, even if it felt far away.

Logan was the first to move, his hands easing their grip on your hips as he straightened. He lingered for a moment, the warmth of his fingertips trailing lightly over your damp skin, a touch far softer than anything he’d given you before. Then, with a quiet sigh, he stepped away, leaving a fleeting chill in his absence.

“You okay there, darlin’?” he asked, his voice still rough but softer now, like he was testing the waters.

You turned your head just enough to glance at him over your shoulder, your hair clinging to the sweat on your neck and shoulders. “I’m fine,” you muttered, though your voice was hoarse and shaky, betraying the way your body still hummed with the afterglow.

Logan’s smirk returned, slow and lazy, the kind of grin that said he’d already known your answer before he asked. “Didn’t sound fine a minute ago,” he teased, his eyes glinting with smug amusement as they roamed over you, drinking in the sight of you still catching your breath.

You rolled your eyes, pressing your palms into the table to push yourself upright. Your arms wobbled, and your legs felt weak beneath you, but you managed to stand, your back straightening as you turned to face him. “You’re insufferable,” you said, but the words lacked bite, your tone soft, almost playful.

Logan didn’t miss a beat. His hands found your waist again, steadying you even though his touch lingered longer than it needed to. His eyes traveled over you, unhurried, his smirk deepening as he took in every detail—the flushed glow of your skin, the way your chest still rose and fell unevenly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and shamelessly confident. “But I bet you’d beg me to fuck you again, wouldn’t you?”

Heat flared in your chest, but whether it was from anger or the way his words sent a fresh jolt of heat through you, you weren’t sure. Your lips parted, ready to fire back, but no words came. The smirk on his face widened, and you hated how much he was enjoying this—how much you were enjoying this.

��You’re impossible,” you muttered finally, brushing past him and scooping your tank top off the floor. You tugged it back over your head, your movements sharp, as if covering yourself would help regain some of the control he’d stolen.

Logan chuckled, low and rumbling, the sound chasing you as you crossed the room. “What can I say? I aim to please.” His voice followed you, smug and unapologetic like he already knew exactly how deep he was under your skin.

You stopped at the counter, leaning against it to steady yourself as you grabbed a glass of water. The chill of the glass grounded you, even as you felt Logan’s eyes still on you, his gaze as heavy as the tension still lingering in the air.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he said, his tone dipping into something darker that made your stomach flip. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll think you��re ready for another round.”

You turned, glass in hand, narrowing your eyes at him despite the way your heart raced. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, but the breathless hitch in your voice betrayed you.

Logan only grinned, stepping closer like he couldn’t help himself. “Too late,” he said, his hand brushing against the edge of the counter as he leaned in, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him all over again.

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jude-duarte-wannabe · 7 months ago

Text

childhood sweetheart material

oh my god!!! it's finally here, i made sure to change the posting settings this time!! i know it's not a bakery request but i've been writing them and i have a bunch in my drafts, i've got my sister editing them for me and hopefully one will be out soon... but for now enjoy my lovely's <3

pairing; carlos sainz jr x childhood best friend viviana martinez [original character]

blurb; this is a list of cute things childhood friend turned husband carlos sainz jr and his childhood friend turned wife viviana martinez do in my smau series that i'm working on called since we were eighteen, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3

currently playing; everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran "cause all i know is we said, "hello" and your eyes look like comin' home, all i know is a simple name and everything has changed, all i know is you held the door, you'll be mine and i'll be yours, all i know since yesterday is everything has changed"

from day one, you were the one;

your families have been friends for the longest time and while carlos was born a few years before you, you've been friends since you could babble at eachother

carlos can in fact still remember meeting you for the very first time, how tiny you were and his mother still has the photo of three year old carlos kissing your forehead but her personal favorite was one of you two falling asleep on eachother in the backseat of a car when she was dropping you off after a play-date

and so the years kept passing;

as years go by, you and carlos slowly begin to drift apart pursuing different careers and life goals, you knew from a young a age that you loved carlos but didn't realize it was in the romantic way until far later in life

during your teenage years, your parents thought you two were dating and no matter how much your denied it, they never believed you but that was probably due to the platonic to you both kisses you would place on eachothers cheeks or foreheads

when you were nineteen and about to move away and not see carlos for the next four to five years, not that you knew that at the time, you'd begged him to be your first time, it was one of those cliche moments of not wanting to go to college a virgin but he turned you down, saying he didn't want to ruin what you had, what a joke that seemed like now

when you two were young, around the ages of fourteen and eleven, you joked about marrying eachother one day, you even made a contract about how if you were still single after you'd turned twenty two that you'd tie the knot with eachother but as you grew apart, that contract was long forgotten about

coming back to eachother;

you found eachother again at a family reunion, you'd arrived early and got talking with his mother, catching up about life when she brought out old photo albums and low and behold at the back of the album was a paper or contract that you'd long forgotten had existed

you'd been sipping a drink in the garden when you heard the familiar voice, you'd gotten to talking when the topic of relationships came up and you discovered the both of you were single

you joked about tying the knot but he joked back about taking him to dinner first, which you did for giggles but you just fell in love with talking to eachother and began to meet up more often which eventually led to confessed feelings that had been hidden for too long, this left the rest as history

telling your families;

you were both nervous to say the least, your parents had been friends since they themselves were children, little did either of you know both of your sisters had already started to notice the change between you, the little stares and stolen glances but they had noticed it too late.. about three years too late in fact

the two of you had been planning to tell them sooner but you didn't want to give them false hope in case you broke up but you began to like the privacy and how it was just the two of you and before you knew, the two of you were approaching your three year anniversary

it was actually at your anniversary dinner that carlos proposed, you had both just stepped off a twelve hour flight and decided that instead of going out you'd get pizza

carlos thought there would be no better time than when you both sat on the couch eating pizza in comfy clothes to propose, you however almost lost it, you knew your answer was yes but instead of saying the first words out of your mouth were "you let me do this sweatpants" [if you've seen this video, i love you]

it was a week later at the traditional joint family dinner when everyone found out, your younger sister basically screaming her head off when she saw the ring on your finger as you reached for your wine glass

"what is that!" she squealed to which you winced in return and carlos chuckled, your mother looked betrayed as she too just now noticed the ring adorning your finger "when did that happen, i didn't even know you were seeing someone" she asked flabbergasted.

"does this mean you and carlos aren't together" your youngest sister had asked, she was only ten but loved carlos so much, you and carlos shared a knowing look before he shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to kiss you... that set off a frenzy among your family members

when it comes to work;

you work as an actress in horror / thriller films but you absolutely hate being scared, your the biggest wuss carlos knows but his favorite thing about your job is that he has a video on his phone of when one of your cast-mates scared the shit out of you and you screamed like the scream queen that you are

you often come home from set covered in fake blood to which carlos can't help but panic every time thinking your injured before he catches his breath and then helps you wipe it all off but not without you covering him in fake blood first

carlos quite often comes to your photo-shoots and one time the photographer wasn't happy with how the photos were working out, said that their was no real chemistry between you and the male model you had been working with and so he called a break during which you hung out with carlos, sitting in his lap and just enjoying eachothers company when the photographer caught sight of you both and it was like a light bulb went off in his head, that was the birth of the photo you had forever pinned to your instagram account

carlos always insisted on watching your movies, no matter how often you told him he didn't need to you would still come home to find him curled up on the couch with pinon as he pointed and mumbled "there's our girl" in his rough tired voice

your not afraid to show your support to carlos at his races either, attending as a long lost but now returned childhood friend at first but then eventually as his girlfriend and then wife but nobody knew that

while lando was basically carlos's best friend, to you he was your paddock child and you never let him forget it either

one of carlos's favorite things about your job was getting to see you in the gorgeous red carpet dresses, you would always show him and if he happened to be off racing, you'd facetime him instead, he loved being able to zip them up and feel your warm skin as he did it, his favorite dress was this one:

you were honestly carlos's biggest fan and without both his and his fans knowledge, you'd started an account on instagram where you posted the most outrageous things about him like this: which is one of your more tame posts btw

whenever carlos wins a race, gets on the podium or just no matter what place he gets, your wrapping your arms around him as soon as you can and whispering in his ear "i'm so proud of you mi sol"

kisses + cuddles;

there's different kinds of cuddles when it comes to yours and carlos's relationship, these include;

straddled cuddles were your sitting in his lap and wrapped around him, there is nothing sexual about it, just the two of you enjoying eachothers company

hugs from behind no matter where you are, in the motor-home or even the supermarket, carlos just likes to be holding you

and your personal favorite is when he's so exhausted and turns into the little spoon

and finally there's just this;

and then there's all the different kinds of kisses you two share

there's shoulder kisses most of which occur when carlos is hugging you from behind but they also happen in the early morning when carlos is awake and your still asleep but he just feels the need to kiss you in some way

thigh kisses, he loves to kiss your thighs and not just in the sexual way which he does indeed enjoy giving you but it also happens when he's laying in your hold with his head half in your lap and half resting on your legs

then there's the tippy toe kisses, the height difference between you and carlos was adorable but you often have to either stand on your tip toes or wear heels in order just to kiss him

then there's the kisses that you place all over his face after race cause no matter what place he comes, your always so happy for him and just need him to know how much you love him

then there's the kisses you have to tug at his shirt in order to give to him

there's the one where your kissing in bed, not in a sexual way but the 'i've missed you' loving way that has you rolling around and giggling, never wanting the kisses to end

and finally there's the kisses that both of you moaning in-between, it's these ones that normally led to your sexual encounters with eachother

touches and intimate moments;

you two have a habit of one of you two laying in bed, watching the other change in the morning or after a shower, you once said you trusted no one like how you trusted carlos and that's why you let him watch you change

then there's the times when either of you come home either from work or a race, so you sit behind eachother and gently massage the others shoulders

if your ever in the way which carlos says that you never are, he'll hook his fingers into your belt loops and gently scoot you out the way

carlos is the kind of boyfriend where if your too tired to move at the end of the day or after an event, he'll sit and gently wash your makeup from your face while your falling asleep

during the races that happen in colder countries, your often caught on camera pulling carlos close to hug him in order to warm up

your also often caught on camera walking through the paddock together with carlos's hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans if you happen to be wearing them

and then one of your favorite things about your relationship was taking baths with carlos after a long day, feeling his body pressing against your own just brought you a sense of comfort and peace

dates [of sorts];

one of your favorite dates or even just times that you spend together is having pancake wars; where you two always try to one up eachother with your pancake recipes

whenever you guys go out for dinner, carlos always makes sure to give you the first bite of his food just in case you want to switch meals like you sometimes did

you would also often bring him lunch and end half the time end up staying so that you could eat together

he'll also sit and read you poetry late at night from your favorite poetry books

whenever you guys stay home and have date night in, carlos will often hover over your shoulder and wait to taste test the meal your cooking

then there are the museum dates you guys go on, art museums in particular have always been a part of your love for italian and spanish culture, a fan once took a photo of you and carlos in a museum where he was holding you up so that you could take photos of some of your favorite works of art

and finally and personally carlos's favorite was whenever you two went out for gelato, carlos loved the stuff and you loved taking photos of him

the little things;

just a list of all the little things that you and carlos do slash remember about eachother

your carlos's lock screen and he's yours

he wears your hair ties on his wrist and carries period products in his travel bag just in case you need them in an emergency

he always messages you when your filming to make sure that you've been eating and drinking

the two of you know eachothers routines off by heart, like when he comes home from a morning run, you'll have the shower running and waiting for him

you have a love of classic literature and you often come home to find that he's deep cleaned your bookshelves

you take care of him when he's sick

he'd been whimpering and complaining of a sore throat all day, after a while you'd had enough so you decided to call his mother and ask what she once did when he was sick as a child, when you brought carlos a mug of manzanilla or homemade chamomile tea explaining you'd gotten the recipe from his mother, carlos knew right then and there that he was going to marry you

he once gifted you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his cologne for your birthday so that you had something to cuddle when he was gone and the cologne was for when you missed his smell.. he had to comfort you when you started crying

he loves knowing that you wear his shirts to bed, reminds him that your his

and finally with all the button ups that carlos wears, you often find yourself sewing buttons back onto them, carlos once found you on the couch furiously sewing buttons back onto around ten or so shirts that you'd discovered while doing the washing

no one touches the hair except for you;

when your bored, you often end up begging carlos to let you braid his hair... it's always a yes because ever since childhood, he could never say no to you

you also love to laugh at how messy and fluffed up his hair gets in the morning, the first time you'd seen it you burst out laughing which caused him to blush

down and dirty;

while not going to into detail, here's a list of some of the things you and carlos do in bed

carlos loves eating you out, as mentioned beforehand when discussing his love for giving you thigh kisses

another obvious one was the fact that carlos loved having his pulled during sex

then there's the guided grinding, where his hands gripped at your hips while grinding you down against him

carlos's favorite position to take you in is doggy and no, i personally think there's no explanation needed

carlos has a thing for choking too, you in fact introduced him to it

and finally while it not's something you explore very regularly, you also share a spitting kink

the wedding;

it's been described by friends and family as the most beautiful wedding they'd ever attended, there are photos in the wedding album of you and carlos shoving cake in eachothers faces and instead of a three course meal, you both served pizza at your wedding instead