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#(or a fool who doesn't get what you're going along with)
medicinemane · 2 months
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I still argue that bleeping someone like Gorden Ramsey is bullshit so that people who love and find swearing fun can pretend that they didn't just hear him call someone a fucking donkey, because there was a bleep... like they don't know the exact word he used, like they didn't think it, and like they didn't have fun with it
Cause I bet you... any amount of money you want honestly, that if you asked Gorden Ramsey not to swear he just wouldn't... I don't think they ever bleep anything in shows where he's helping kids cook
No, people find swearing fun, it's entertaining... they just don't want to admit they like it because it's naughty
And to be clear I'm directly pointing to this and pointing to 'unalive' and drawing a line between them for how we got here
#you either don't swear or you do; bleeping is only for when no one's supposed to swear but it came out by accident#but 99% of the time; you can tell the producers wanted people to swear because their audience loves it#and at best they didn't bother telling them to keep it polite; and at worst they encouraged it#you know; I once when I was like 12 went with my mom to see Chuck D give a talk about stuff#and at the end when he went up he was like 'oh I'm so sorry; I didn't know there was a kid in the audience or I wouldn't have cussed'#and we assured him it wasn't a problem (didn't explain I'd know all of it since I was little)#(and I think to an extent even then I had a mentality of that I'd rather hear it how he was gonna say it normally)#but... he very clearly could have and would have simply kept a check on himself like everyone is capable of#and he clearly would have been more than happy to#it wasn't an 18+ event; it just was on a college and he expected adults only and talks how he talks#you can have zero naughty words most of the time... all you have to do is ask#and you can avoid serious conversations... it's polite to let people not be forced to engage with topics they don't want most of the time#hell; that's the whole point of trigger warnings#...I don't know; I'm forever fuming about this whole fucking topic#it's like a huge portion of humanity is willingly and gladly throwing shackles on#it's on thing not to say fuck; I respect the hell out of that#it's one thing to mind your words and subject; go for it#and it's also one thing not to want to listen to people swear#you know... I often do tone down how I feel like talking cause... I get some people following me might not like it... and I actually care#...it's just also... in the end this is my spot I dump bullshit out of my skull in a verbal vomit#so you get it how you get it... but like I get not wanting to hear it#but don't you fucking tell me you hate swearing and them sit their laughing at a bleeped bit from a show where someone's cursing up a storm#no you like swearing but you're just being a shifty self righteous prick that's pretending you don't to feel smug#and don't talk about death if you don't want to#but don't say 'unalive'; not unless you're meaning the opposite of undead and coming up with something interesting#if you're saying 'unalive' you're just a spineless fucker who can't even manage saying you'll kill a zombie in minecraft#(or a fool who doesn't get what you're going along with)
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uvuyai · 19 days
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Men who use their legs to keep you spread open while they finger you☺️(this is my [short] apology letter for my april fools joke😓) this was based off some chilumi nsfw i found on X. I'll link it later!
Tag ~ fingering, fem!reader(no pronouns),, overstimulation, squirting, mating press, no sex but implied at the end, eating outz, size difference, tit slapping + nipple play,
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The way he just snaps you into position with your legs bent away to your shoulders beneath their legs. The way they pumps and ruthlessly thrusts their fingers into your clenching hole, sending you sky high into a bursting orgasm. The tears and drool running down your face says it all. Your trembling hands clenching the thigh of his pants.
You try your hardest to wriggle your way out of his tight leg lock but they're not letting you go till he's finished with you. You've come for the nth time of the day. your mewls, whines, and moans getting high on pitch every waking second. They like seeing you like this; all spread out, puffy pussy sucking their fingers in, eyes rolling up to heaven, and the sweet juices you squirted out onto their hand.
He leans down and licks a stripe of your cunt, you immediately jump from the sudden change of roughness. They tweak and suck at your clit. Their tongue licking long and forceful stripes of your pussy. Their nose pokes at your clit from time to time. Your tongue hanging out of your mouth and tilting your head to the side to hopefully avoid neck pain. You let out a sharp moan and gasp as you felt yourself wet their hand. Your toes curled at the erupting feeling. You are nearly embarrassed about how you've wet yourself. They raise themselves back up to look back at the mess they've made beneath them. That mess being you. Your eyes are so close to closing as you let out soft and quiet pleas for no more.
But as I've said before; he's not stopping now.
One more time at least baby is what they say and they slide their fingers back into you, immediately curling up into that spot he knows like the back of his palm. Their other hand slams down onto your tits, tweaking them in the process. You're so cute they think as they see you trying to escape his leg prison once again. They give you a hearty chuckle and a teasing smirk. Your eyes try to ultimately focus on them but he doesn't stop pumping his fingers into you. Poor thing, it was only 15 minutes in, but it must've felt like eternity for you. Which you hope was the last of, you clenched your teeth and let out a gut bursting orgasm.
He gets up and flips you onto your stomach and removes the rest of your clothes along with his. They aligned his thick, long cock to your sensitive hole. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day or night for you.
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The characters i think: Zhongli, blade, childe, Kaeya, Boothill, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Diluc, Wriothesley, Jing Yuan, Pantalone, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Sunday, and you favs!
LOVE NOTE SIGNED © 𝑢𝑣𝑢𝑦𝑎𝑖 2024
DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.
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anantaru · 3 months
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riled up alhaitham hiding his jealousy from us? hehe
cw. jealous alhaitham, he doesn't get jealous okay!!! lots of teasing, fem! reader
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you are aware that alhaitham doesn't get jealous, for anybody to even assume that should be vehemently questioned— but this time, he hesitates to voice anything out loud in an usually apathetic manner, rather does he resort to kiss your bare shoulder lightly, working meticulously as his kisses remain soft and faint.
that night, alhaitham was more silent than usual, it's like he had been deep in thought while also being closely intimate with you, "how insolent," he sighs out, grinding himself against all the right spots to make you arch into him.
you bow your hips deliciously into his shaft as he continues, "to think that someone would actually pursue you in front of me," poising on the edge of a witty continuation, you make him float back to reality the moment you dug your nails into his bare back, cutting him from his thoughts slightly.
"are you jealous?" you taunt, a slight crease appearing above your brow as he playfully smacks the plush of your ass, needy and urgent splitting your legs to settle in between.  
he looks a little agitated as he answered, "who, me?" he leisurely rubs his cock-head through your wet folds before pressing into your clit a little, as to tickle and trace around the fragile nubs, "don't make a fool out of yourself with such claims,"
"i do not get jealous," he says, simply, enough demand in his voice that it made you tremble a bit— and perhaps it also hurt in a way, for alhaitham to say that he couldn't possibly become jealous because of another person hitting on you in front of his eyes.
although it was hard to believe he didn't get at least a little irked— especially now when he's fierce and hungry and full of need and want for you.
alhaitham moves his hand before running it up and down your hips, clearly he's too impatient to taunt you tonight, but he still does it because he needs to keep up the act.
and it's not like he doesn't understand the brittle emotions he was going through right now— it's that those certain frames of ones mind vexed him, not to mention that they made it all the more difficult to focus on the current moment, which was you.
"p-please," you can hardly string two syllables together, your mouth hanging open as his lips curl into a smirk when he notices goosebumps quiver along your skin, "please, what?" the man retorts back, his rigid erection sliding up and down your soaked folds while making sure to nudge against your hole ever so often.
"just, ugh, just get to it," you pout, "please!" your body was telling him everything he needed to know as you writhe against his rattling trace, now warm and slick with arousal sticking on your hole and ass.
alhaitham grinds his rock-hard member against your clit, his hand suddenly letting go off your hip to grab his dick as he began to thrust it into the tunnel of his palm.
he towers over your body to rest against the nook of your neck, low chuckles ghosting into your ear, "you're not getting anything tonight," he coos, "or are you?" nipping and tonguing a spot where your ear meets your neck while he adds pressure on his shaft, resulting in him groaning into your ear hungrily, the pure filth in his tone finding a new focus for your cravings.
"what're you gonna do about it, hm?" he whispers as you moan,  surging, seeking, your fingers threading into his hair to force him to look at you.
"you're mean," you claim, your legs writhing as he inserts his tip in your hole, your voice already distant, drowning in pleasure when he begins to fuck you with his red hued tip.
alhaitham laughs lovingly at your crystallized mind, your scent was pungent on his nostrils as he moans brokenly at your familiar taste. he truly savors the moment when you draw him into your hole just hard enough to mark his cock with your arousal.
listening to the mellow rings in his vocalization was like a gold string tugging on an angel-like puppet— it's immediate when it tugs you from your dazed mind right back into him.
"no one could make be get jealous," alhaitham turns his entire focus to your lower half, "because i trust you," slowly inserting inches after inches of his shaft, "you're mine, this is mine, there's no one that can change that," he adds in a raspy tonality before you arch your back to grind into him, grinning against his mouth, melting at his words.
"but i am *not* jealous," well, there it was again.
but it's his turn to moan into your mouth as his grunts mingle softly in the air, his lips smirking, more ideas forming, "so do not ever say that again,"
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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Chivalrous Shadow, Shrouded in Cloud
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"A new resident in the city, you say? Oh, it's Cloud— I mean, Xianyun. Don't be fooled by her usual manner... She's someone you can truly rely on when the going gets tough. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just tell her — I'm sure she'd be willing to help."
— Madame Ping
◆ Name: Xianyun
◆ Title: Passerine Herald
◆ New Resident in Liyue Harbor
◆ Vision: Anemo
◆ Constellation: Grus Serena
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Everyone has something to say about Xianyun: "That tall woman with the updone hair," "that bespectacled artisan," or perhaps "that talkative new neighbor." They all say different things, but together they paint a picture of the impression she leaves — of someone who's witty, chatty, warm-hearted, and easy to get along with.
But that's not how Xianyun sees herself. In her own eyes, she's inarticulate, reserved, and unyieldingly proud. Aside from her mastery of mechanics and knack for making all kinds of little trinkets, it's an entirely different image from how others would describe her.
Some curious individuals, seeing how her mannerisms and bearing set her apart from ordinary folk, are convinced that she's a heroine — so they go around trying to uncover her heroic backstory and whether she goes by any other names.
Ask the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's consultant, and with a wave of his hand, he'd say: "Xianyun? We're not well acquainted, but going by her name, she sounds like a good person."
Ask Madame Ping from Yujing Terrace, and she'd nod and reply: "Xian... Oh, Xianyun? We've crossed paths, yes... She's a good person, you know. Once you've met, you'll find that your days seem to go by much more smoothly."
Ask Ganyu, and she'd nod too: "She is a heroine, but a very discreet one — hence why she's living incognito in Liyue Harbor."
Ask Shenhe, and she'd respond pensively: "Xianyun... Of course, she's a master. Whatever you do, you must not offend her."
As it turns out, such speculations are not wrong. There's far more to Xianyun than meets the eye, but those who know the full story are few indeed. If someone was to address her as "Cloud Retainer"... Well, people would know her instantly, and you'd hear a torrent of praise flow her way: "Who doesn't know Cloud Retainer? Noble, brave, loyal, and wise... A most worthy friend if ever there was one!"
So try asking Xianyun herself then: "Are you a heroine? Surely you're not... an adeptus?"
You catch the new resident just as she's working on her latest invention, her pride and joy — what she calls an "Exquisite Mini Broth Pot." She's too absorbed to take the question seriously, so she simply waves it off as a load of old nonsense and tells you not to bother her while she's busy.
As for what exactly an Exquisite Mini Broth Pot is... No one really knows, other than having been told that it brings out flavors much better than a regular soup pot. Likewise, none would know how profoundly it might impact Liyue Harbor's future gastronomic development. Suffice to say — if Xianyun says it'll be impressive, it'll be impressive alright.
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luveline · 11 months
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spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below
please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 
You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 
He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 
"Something looks wrong." 
You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 
"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 
He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 
"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 
"Gabs?" he asks. 
"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 
You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 
"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 
"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 
"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 
"Am I being weird?" he asks.
"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 
"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 
"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 
You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 
"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 
"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 
"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 
Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 
"Hm?" you hum in question. 
Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 
The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 
"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 
Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.
It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 
"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.
He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.
"Was it scary?" 
"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 
"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 
"Yeah, he did." 
"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 
"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 
You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 
You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 
You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 
"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 
"She's in her room. Call her." 
You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 
"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 
You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 
"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 
"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 
He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 
"Woah, careful." 
"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 
"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 
Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  
"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 
"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 
Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 
"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 
"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 
You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 
"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 
She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 
"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 
Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.
"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 
"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 
Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 
She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 
"What?" he asks.
"You're not doing the thing." 
"The thing?" 
You frown. 
"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 
He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 
He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 
Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 
"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 
He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 
When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 
You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 
"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 
"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 
"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 
"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 
"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 
You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 
Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 
"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 
His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 
"For what?" You blink. 
"I don't know." 
You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 
He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 
"You're really something special," he says quietly. 
"How so?" 
His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 
"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 
"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 
You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 
"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 
"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 
"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  
"I must have some good luck," he says. 
His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 
You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 
"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 
Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 
It's not a bad kiss. 
You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 
The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 
"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 
He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 
"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 
"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 
He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 
You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!
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pomefioredove · 4 days
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boop
summary: booping them + their reactions type of post: headcanons characters: third years additional info: is short, platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral author's note: this would've been good to post for the tumblr april fool's event but I missed out so you're getting it now instead!
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𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
hmm... okay!
trey often navigates his interactions with other students based on his interactions with his siblings
there's an order to human behavior, after all
especially with the underclassmen shenanigans (he's really seen it all at this point; don't ask)
none of his siblings, however, have walked up to him unannounced and booped his nose
not yet, at least?
it seems to make you happy though, so he just smiles
half of his job as vice housewarden is "going along with it"
he's pretty used to nonsense
𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
he's editing something on his phone the first time you try and doesn't even notice it
...and the second time, and the third
it becomes a sort of routine for you
tentatively trying to see how many times you can get away with it before he finally notices and says something
and it only spirals from there, of course
you'll up to him while he's talking to someone else, boop him, and walk away
(much to the other person's confusion)
does he notice? yeah, of course
do you need to know that he notices? ...maybe not
he likes the attention, just let him have this one
𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ⋆˚⸙˖°༄✩⊹
he gnaws your hand off
okay, not really. too messy for him
(and the consequences would be such a headache to deal with...)
but he is all grumpy because you woke him up for that
"What was that supposed to be? -_- Don't do that again,"
rolls over and goes back to sleep
you're lucky he reacted as nonchalantly as he did tbh, lions don't like being pet, and he could've kicked you out of his room in a heartbeat for that
(maybe you get a special pass to be annoying)
note to you: don't do that again
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊
boops you back right away
does he necessarily know what that means? no, but he'll find out soon enough anyway
and based off your body language and expression it seems like a gesture of affection
...which he's all too happy to return
(he's so excited to be touching you affectionately he could explode)
now every time you see each other you end up going back and forth for hours
"boop!" "boop!" "boop!"
that's one sure way to give Vil a headache
(you may or may not end up temporarily banned from Pomefiore for disturbing the peace)
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭 ˚⊹˚₊🕊 ˚✧ ₊
you'd assume he gets annoyed, right?
well, he's a little surprised at first (people just don't go around touching him, after all)
then he just smiles
"Remember what we said about asking before touching, hm?"
you're lucky he thinks you're cute
(if not a little strange)
like, so lucky
congratulations on being the only human on earth who gets away with casually touching his face like that
𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 ₊✩‧₊˚⊹༄˚₊모‧₊
well. what do you expect
his eyes widen and his face (and hair) go pink and he internally freaks out (but externally just stands there)
"Um... What was that for?"
Idia might be a little more familiar with the conventions of a boop than anyone else
it's what you do to adorable little animals, right? like kitties and puppies?
so... why are you doing it to him?
if you say you "just felt like it" he might believe you
if you say it's because you think he's cute he will be avoiding you for the rest of the month
good luck!
𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽。°⊹
blinks.
has zero clue what you meant by that
but you seem happy with yourself so it couldn't have been a bad thing, right?
"I'm unfamiliar with that gesture. Is that a greeting from your home?"
you explain that it's a sort of affection you show towards cute things
"Oh, well... you're quite brave. I'm honored,"
he's definitely all sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the week
he's all but giggling and kicking his feet back and forth
no one really questions him
and he doesn't really explain
(if Sebek finds out you booped the heir to the throne of Briar Valley as if he were a kitty cat he will gnaw your hand off)
𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 ✩⁺₊°⊹ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ☽。°⊹
pleasantly surprised, doesn't even question it
he is adorable, after all, he can't blame you for wanting to be affectionate with him
boops you back, of course
after all, aren't you just the cutest thing too?
if you try to walk away after booping him he will find you to return the favor
will somehow make it a competitive sport
waiting for you around corners, hiding in every nook and cranny so that he might catch you by surprise and boop you
(he is totally keeping count of who's ahead)
it makes the school a warzone for like a solid week before Silver's pleas to "please be normal about the prefect" finally work
(AKA Lilia gets bored of it and finds another way to be close to you)
582 notes · View notes
gyuzgrl · 12 days
Text
her //kmg//
summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.
PLEASE WAIT FOR PT 2 I'M NOT LETTING HIM OFF THAT EASY !!!!
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Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.
Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.
Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.
'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'
The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.
Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.
Waited for the call-
"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."
There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.
Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.
Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.
What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?
Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.
Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.
No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.
Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.
There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.
His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.
You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.
Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.
"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.
You stay silent.
"y/n?"
More silence.
Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.
"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"
So you did end up crying.
All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.
You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.
"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.
"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.
"don't. don't touch me."
Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.
He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"
This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.
"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.
"when were you going to tell me?"
When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.
"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...
You've already lost what little you thought you had.
Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.
"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"
"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."
Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.
"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"
You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.
"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"
You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.
"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.
'you don't want me like I want you'
Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?
"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.
There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.
"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.
"what are you doing-"
"what I should've done a long time ago."
A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.
It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.
Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.
The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.
Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.
Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.
The taste of you is addictive.
He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.
The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'
"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"
You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.
Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-
"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"
His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.
"so show me"
It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.
"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.
You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.
"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.
Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.
A bruise.
He tugs you back, searching your eyes.
"what's wrong?"
"she's kissed you here"
He sighs.
"we don't have to do this- I've j-"
"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"
He nods.
"anything you want, my love"
Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.
"you're mine now, you got that?"
"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.
Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.
"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"
"no."
"baby..."
"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"
Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.
He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.
A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-
"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"
You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.
"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"
His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.
"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"
You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.
Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.
Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.
"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt
"mhm"
Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.
Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.
The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.
"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.
"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"
"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"
Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.
He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.
"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"
"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"
Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.
You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.
Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.
"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.
The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.
Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.
At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.
Liquid gold.
"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.
His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.
You know what comes next.
"oh"
Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.
For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.
Perhaps you were just made for one another.
You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.
"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"
Your heart swells.
"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"
He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.
"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"
You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.
Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.
Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.
The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.
As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.
"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.
With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.
"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.
The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.
Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.
"w-wait I'm still-"
"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.
He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.
"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.
Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.
You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.
As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.
Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.
"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.
He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.
"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.
Your breath hitches at his actions.
"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"
Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.
His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.
Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.
"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.
Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.
Your jaw drops.
He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.
Those were another story altogether...
The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.
answer: very.
Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.
You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.
It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick
"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"
You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.
He wanted you to say that you-
"I love you," you state, loud and clear.
His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."
Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.
"I love you,"
He let's out a shaky breath.
"again"
"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.
"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.
The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.
"uh uh, eyes on me,"
You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.
"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.
With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.
"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"
Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.
You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.
Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.
His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.
"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"
Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.
"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.
The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.
"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.
The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.
"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.
"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.
The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?
"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.
Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"
Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.
Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.
As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.
On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.
His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.
Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.
"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"
His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.
"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.
"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."
For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.
"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"
You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.
The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.
"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.
You hum and it reverberate in his chest.
"I love you"
"I love you too, Gyu"
"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.
A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.
You're the best thing to have happened to him.
462 notes · View notes
gaypirate420 · 8 months
Text
Stars // Jasper W. Hale.
Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.
Summary: You're bored in class and doodle on Jasper's arm.
Fluff. Jasper's Battle Scars.
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A yawn scaped your lips as you stared down at your teacher as she gives a lecture that is not registering on your mind at all. She's talking something about the history of Forks, you don't care, she's boring and it's making you sleepy.
You stared down at your notes, empty except for today's date, your eyes travel to your right to find Jasper actually paying attention and writing down what he finds useful.
"Isn't that a bit useless?" You whisper to him, Jasper's eyes meet yours and he smirks, he raised an eyebrow.
"Writing down notes for history, I mean, I don't think you need notes, you where there." You explained, whispering very low the last part, Jasper lean over closer to you.
"I don't, but you need them, darlin'." He whispered back with a small smile. You smiled and felt your cheeks warming up after hearing the nickname. Your hand went up to his messy hair and brush it down with your fingers, he smiled at your action and let you be.
He quickly stealed a kiss off your cheek and kept paying attention to the class as if nothing happened while you felt your cheeks burning.
Jasper saw how your attention went to anything but the class, you took your pencil case that's full of scrunched up post its and colorful pens and started doodling on your notebook.
Jasper doesn't mind helping you, he gets to spend more time with you and you get a handsome vampire tutor to explain you what you missed over and over if necessary and never gets angry.
The vampire looks back at the teacher, as he hears your pen moving all around the page.
He feels you lifting the sleeves of his sweater and cursing under your breath when you found his dress shirt.
"So many layers, can't even get cold." You murmur teasinly, if it wasn't from his increased hearing he would miss little things like this. Jasper smirks and continues to write before he feels the pen against his marble skin.
He stayed still for a second, his eyes moved to look at you.
You can't see them, his scars, not all of them. But the ones you do seem to be treated with extreme care as you started doodling on his pale arm.
They don't itch, they don't hurt, but, for him, it felt so nice, so important.
Jasper felt flustered, almost like his dead hearth skipped a beat at the sight of the tender scene.
You drew stars, it felt right. You smiled widely as you keep adding more and more, along with little hearts and even a flower on his forearm.
"Do you like your tattoos?" You whispered with the cutest smile he's ever seen. Jasper nodded.
"You're very talented, pumpkin." He could feel your heart skipping and of course your emotions going wild. He smiles as your happiness rub off on him.
"Now you do mine." You offered your pen to him, Jasper looked back at the teacher who spoke nonsense by now, he could make the teacher look like fool on another day for now he smiles and picks up the pen.
His icy cold fingers gently grabbed your arm, bringing it closer to him, you felt a shiver down your body at the sensation.
Your felt the tingly sensation of the pen against your arms, making you giggle silently.
Jasper drew flowers, some skulls that matched your wristband and of course, stars. Your eyes admired him, his blonde hair falling on his face and his furrowed eyebrows showing the absolute dedication to this task.
"There, sugar." He spoke gently, you looked at your arm and grabbed his hand. You saw his wrist and with your free hand you passed two of your bracelets from your wrist to his.
Jasper smiled again, it's odd for him to doing that so many times on so little time, he's getting giddy in the best way possible.
"Now we match." You spoke with an excited whisper. Jasper nodded, your eyes went wide with an idea.
"We should wear matching outfits one day." You smiled wider at the thought. The vampire nodded in agreement.
"That's a great idea, dear." His golden eyes looked at you before he leaned and kissed your lips.
"Mister Hale." The teacher called his name and he pulled away from you, your cheeks were burning again and you looked at the floor in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Miss." Jasper spoke with a victorious smirk as the teacher's frown disappears and turns into a smile, and of course the rest of the class magically turning their heads from you and Jasper.
"Don't worry about it." The teacher spoke with a following chuckle before returning to give her lecture. You giggle softly and shaked your head in mocking disapproval.
Jasper steals another quick peek on your lips before focusing back to writing notes for you.
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A/N: Little fluffy one shot for y'all, I'm working on the requests do not worry. Hope you like it!
1K notes · View notes
hoodiedmenace · 3 months
Text
Reasons Why Charles Smith and Arthur Morgan are Gay (an almost essay)
Reason 1: from a game play standpoint, you only get a few optional missions. Those missions are helping Mary when she asks (who is Arthur's like, old girlfriend/ex/situationship/it's complicated) and CHARLES when he asks Arthur to help with the local Native American tribe
Reason 2: Charles is super introverted, and doesn't talk to other gang members much at all. However, when Charles goes bison hunting, despite it being a sacred thing that he holds really close, he invites Arthur along
Reason 3: John, Arthur's sort of brother, gets SHOT and MAULED BY WOLVES and Arthur makes fun of him and doesn't treat it seriously. But when Charles burns his hand, Arthur is super doting on him
Reason 4: Arthur doesn't hug people very often, and when he does its always because another person initiates it. He doesn't go in for the hug himself. EXCEPT. With CHARLES. And they hug not once but twice. Once when Arthur finds out that Charles isn't dead, and again when Charles leaves the gang
Reason 4.5: when they hug the last time, you can see them hold hands for about two seconds once the hug has finished, as if they don't want to let go yet. (Which they probably don't because Charles knows that this is probably the last time that he'll see Arthur)
Reason 5: when Mary (again, Arthur's weird ex girlfriend/it's complicated) asks Arthur to run away from the gang and live with her, he says he can't because the gang is his family and he has to stay loyal to Dutch (who is Arthur's father figure/leader of the gang) but when Charles says he's staying to help the Native Americans, Arthur is immediately like "Okay I'll stay too" ............ yeah okay buddy those are totally straight tendencies
Reason 6: Charles is one of the few people that actually shows compassion, care, and offers Arthur a sort of solution when he tells Charles that he's dying. He also says "Oh Arthur" and it's the most devastating thing ever
Reason 7: Charles doesn't make fun of Arthur like. Ever. everyone else calls him stupid and not worth much else than basically a work horse. There are two times when Charles does say it but the first time is when Arthur makes a joke and he goes "you simple minded fool" but like. In a silly way. And the other time Arthur is being Problematic and Charles goes "I know you're not as tough and dense as all that"
Reason 8: Charles goes back for Arthur, finds his body, and buries him. And his grave isn't just the regular tombstone that anyone else's is. It's hand carved wood, on a mountain overlooking the morning sun because "That's what he would have wanted". And there's also flowers purposefully grown there as well
Reason 9: Arthur isn't often given a choice in who he gets to take on missions but when he does, it's always Charles.
Reason 10: Arthur is weirdly submissive towards Charles? Not in a sexual way, but he won't take orders from anyone else besides Dutch and Hosea, and then also Charles.
Reason 11: At the beginning Arthur doesn't just ride anyone's horse, he rides CHARLES'S horse. And also when he dies, Taima takes him to his final resting place
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nicksolemnlyswears · 9 months
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DUDDDDE!!
I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!
Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭
But any whosies.
I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)
Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.
You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.
I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼
Take your time! <3
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pairing: han lue x racer!reader
words: 11.4k
warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one
notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.
trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.
anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!
i really really hope you like it!!
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Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.
You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.
His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.
'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.
People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.
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The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.
You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"
Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.
You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.
"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.
"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.
That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.
It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.
"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.
"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.
Han chuckles, "Not you too."
"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?
Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."
"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.
"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.
You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.
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Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.
He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.
Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.
"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.
Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.
"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.
"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.
If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.
"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.
You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.
"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.
"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.
"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.
"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.
"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.
You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.
"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"
You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.
You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.
"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.
"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.
He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.
"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.
Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.
"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."
"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.
"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.
"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."
You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?
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Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.
You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.
"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.
"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.
"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.
Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.
Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.
When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."
'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.
With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.
Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.
Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.
To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.
"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.
Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.
"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.
"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.
"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.
The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.
Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.
"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.
"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.
"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.
It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.
Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.
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Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.
They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.
As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.
"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.
You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.
"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."
"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."
Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.
Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.
You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.
With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.
The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.
The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.
Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.
"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.
"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.
"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.
Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.
"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.
Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.
It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.
Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.
You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.
Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.
"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.
Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."
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A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.
Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.
Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.
You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.
It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.
He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.
The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.
Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.
As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.
Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.
"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.
"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.
Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.
His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.
"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.
"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.
Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.
Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.
"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.
"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.
"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.
"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.
Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.
You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.
"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.
"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.
Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"
"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.
"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.
"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.
"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.
Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"
A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.
"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.
"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.
"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.
"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.
"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.
"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.
"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.
"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.
"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.
Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.
You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.
"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.
"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.
A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.
Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."
"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.
"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.
You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.
"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.
"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.
"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.
The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.
"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.
"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."
"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.
"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."
Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.
"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."
"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.
"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.
"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"
"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.
Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."
Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.
Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."
"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."
You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.
Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.
You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.
"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.
"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.
"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.
"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.
Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"
Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.
You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.
"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.
"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.
There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.
Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.
Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.
Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."
"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.
"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.
"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.
Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.
His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.
It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.
A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.
You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.
You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.
"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.
"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.
"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.
He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.
You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.
Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.
Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.
"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.
"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.
"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.
The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though. 
As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.
You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.
Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.
Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"
"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.
"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.
Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.
Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.
His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.
Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.
Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.
"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.
Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.
"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.
"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.
"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.
You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.
Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.
Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.
"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.
"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."
Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.
"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.
Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"
You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."
"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.
"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.
"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.
You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.
"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.
The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.
Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.
"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.
"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.
You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.
Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.
"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.
"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.
"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.
Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.
Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.
"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.
"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.
His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.
He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.
You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.
Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.
He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.
When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.
You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."
Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.
"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.
The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.
"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.
"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.
His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.
You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.
"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.
Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples. 
"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."
Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.
You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.
Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.
"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.
You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.
His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.
After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.
You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white. 
Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist. 
"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.
You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.
"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other. 
"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back. 
"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.
Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.
'Such a tight pussy just for me.'
'Taking me so good, Angel.'
'Can't get enough of you.'
You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours. 
Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.
The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him. 
With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.
Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.
Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop." 
"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."
Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.
Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.
"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you. 
"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically. 
Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.
Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.
" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.
Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.
Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"
"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier. 
The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.
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One Year and a Half Later...
You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.
"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.
Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.
"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.
It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.
"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"
There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.
"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.
"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.
"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.
With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds. 
You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two. 
As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.
You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.
"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.
"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.
The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.
The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.
"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.
"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder. 
From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.
"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.
Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.
Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.
"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.
"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.
"You let me win," you then say assertively.
"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.
"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.
"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.
"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.
Fin. 
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thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!
this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!
requests are still open ❤️
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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months
Note
Hi ♥️ can I please request a small snippet which starts with the hero offering themselves to the villain instead of another victim (which was the intention of villain all along). I really love the powerful villain - struggling hero dynamic. Doesn’t need to be in a romantic way…
Sorry if this is oddly specific. Thank you so much for all your stories and snippets so far. They’re sooo good!!! ✨
The hero dodged into the villain's path.
The villain stopped. They looked down, at the hero's palms planted firmly on their chest, then to the hero's eyes.
The hero gulped. They dropped their hands, but didn't step aside.
"Take me instead."
"You." Power crackled off the villain; enough to make the hair on the hero's arms stand on end.
"I'm more valuable," the hero said, holding the villain's gaze. Their heart drummed wildly. "People would pay an awful lot of money for a go at me - you don't need them. I'm a much better ransom."
"And if I don't take you?" the villain asked.
"I'm also more fun."
The villain's lip curled. "And if I don't take you?"
Well, then they would have to fight. The hero was not remotely looking forward to that prospect. It wasn't that they couldn't hold their own - they knew perfectly well that they were generally considered one of the few people who could, when it came to the dazzling monstrosity before them. But, well.
The hero gulped again, squaring their shoulders. Their hands shot, gently, gently, to the villain's chest when the villain began to sidestep them.
The villain's head tilted.
The hero didn't drop their hands that time.
The villain's heartbeat was perfectly steady.
"I'm offering," the hero said.
The curl of the villain's lip sharped a fraction more; a scrap of paper burning up on a fire, containing all the world's most dangerous secrets. "Is that what you're doing right now?"
"Please," the hero said, quieter, just for the two of them.
"Maybe I don't want to ransom you," the villain said, in the same intimate murmur. Their eyes glittered in the city lights. "Maybe I'd rather keep you all to myself."
The hero's stomach swooped. "Just leave them alone."
"You're a predictable little thing, you know that?"
Realisation hit the hero, like the loud click of a lock turning. It didn't make any difference though. Wasn't that the point? To see the trap closing. To stand there anyway. It was already too late.
The hero had known that the villain could be persuaded to take them instead. The villain had known they would offer.
"So are you," the hero said, mouth dry. "In your way."
"My predictability doesn't make me lose." The villain's hand rose up, to cradle the hero's jaw. Their thumb grazed over the hero's skittering pulse. "It doesn't make me so reckless."
The hero shivered.
"There are power-blocking cuffs in my pocket," the villain said. "Take them out."
"You promise you'll leave everyone else alone?"
"You trust me to keep my promises?"
Yes. Not because of any particular honour, but because one did not get the devil's reputation for threats and bargains without proper follow through. "Promise me. Please."
"I promise that I'll leave them alone in this matter if I can have you instead."
It didn't save everyone and everything, the hero knew that. But it would spare the poor fool cowering behind them, braced for the end of all things. They reached into the villain's pocket like one might reach into a nest of vipers.
"Put them on," the villain said.
The hero did. Everything went muffled and sluggish as the auto-lock engaged. The villain's grip on their jaw kept them from crumbling, pitching forward, at the wave of overwhelming weakness that flooded them.
They could vaguely hear gasps, cries of alarm, hissed whispers behind them. Someone might have screamed 'no.' Someone might have been held back. The hero wasn't sure; they could feel their vision tunnelling a little at the edges.
They still held the villain's gaze.
"Good," the villain murmured. They pressed a kiss to the hero's forehead. Then they let go, abruptly.
The hero staggered. They hit their knees with a groan.
Powerless. It struck them that they'd made a terrible mistake. They hadn't expected it to feel like that.
The villain surveyed the crowd, for a beat. They said something - the hero's ears were ringing, they weren't sure what it was. The villain's fingers tangled idly into the hero's hair, then they started walking.
Being dragged hurt. The humiliation of it would have surely hurt, too, if the hero could concentrate on it.
The villain's car beeped it as it unlocked. They let go of the hero's hair. The hero slumped to the ground, reeling.
"Get in the car," the villain said. "Or I'll put you in the boot."
It seemed to take Herculean effort to climb into the passenger seat. It was almost a relief to slump there, sweat beading their forehead, body aching.
The villain got in too, on the driver's side. They took a moment to look the hero over. The power of them had always seemed enormous, but it felt like something else entirely then without the hero's own to match it. A devastating, crushing weight. An unstoppable force.
The villain reached over and clipped the hero's seatbelt in place. They cupped the hero's cheek again, drawing their attention, their scattershot focus.
"Leaving them alone was the least of the promises you should have insisted on," the villain said. "You panicked. You should know better."
The hero groaned again. Their head lilted into the soothing cup of the villain's fingers.
The villain let go, once more, left them bereft, and started the car.
They drove.
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itadorey · 9 months
Text
[9:33 pm]
pairing: fushiguro megumi x reader takes place at the beginning of the series
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"whatcha looking for?"
megumi flinches at the sudden question, his head hitting the top of the thermometer box as he stumbles back. his mouth twists into a scowl as he reaches up, checking to make sure that there was no blood present. it's only when he makes sure his hand is clean that he finally turns to face the person who spoke.
"do you need help?"
the first thing megumi notices is your cursed energy. it rolls off of you in waves, non-threatening and constant and he finds himself wondering if you're even aware of it. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as you smile at him. when he doesn't respond, you step closer to him, peeking your head into the thermometer box and looking around the small space.
"whatever you were looking for is gone," you chirp, looking up at him. megumi realizes you're entirely too close (and incredibly pretty) and he finds himself clearing his throat before taking a few more steps back. "what was it?"
"nothing," megumi replies instantly, avoiding your gaze as he looks around. he knows the cursed object isn't completely gone. he can still feel the cursed energy residuals lingering around the school and he decides to ignore you in favor of continuing his search.
"it must be important if you're still on the lookout," you say, hands clasped behind your back as you match his steps. "was it a love letter?"
"why would i be searching for a love letter?" megumi asks, giving you a disbelieving glare.
"you're right," you concede, a skip in your step as you pull slightly ahead of him. a teasing look is sent his way and he finds himself wondering why you're speaking to him. "someone like you wouldn't have to look for love letters. you probably just get them handed to you all the time."
megumi pauses briefly, quickly shaking his head before continuing on his way. were you flirting with him?
unfortunately for him, you had noticed the brief stutter in his step, and the grin on your face lets him know you had witnessed it. megumi fights the blush rising on his cheeks, looking away from you as he follows you to the school's field. he doesn't have time to be flirting with a stranger, even if they happen to be pretty and witty.
"i don't really talk to people like that," megumi mutters, wincing when he realized how lame his words sounded. he was rewarded with a giggle from you as you came to a stop, standing on a set of concrete steps.
"could've fooled me," you respond, giving him a glance before looking away. you seem a little flustered, and megumi wonders if you really are flirting or just teasing him. he chooses to remain silent, following your line of sight to see you watching the challenge between a teacher and what seems to be a freakishly strong teenager with pink hair.
"i'll leave you alone now. but keep an eye on him, yeah? maybe he has the answers you're looking for," you say, giving megumi one last smile before walking away. you turn around after a few seconds, still walking as you wave at megumi. "good luck finding that cursed object!"
megumi shakes his head, walking in the opposite direction you were going. he stops abruptly when he processes your words, wondering how you had known what he was looking for.
"hey, wait!" he says, turning around. his eyebrows furrow when he realizes you're gone, not a single trace of you left. even your cursed energy was impossible to detect, the remnants of the special grade object's cursed energy overpowering your own. you're briefly erased from his mind when the pink-haired boy runs past him, the strong presence of cursed energy prompting megumi to follow him instead.
it isn't long until he sees you again, and not even he can keep the shock (and blush) off his face when you send him a wink, standing under gojo's arm as he introduces you to him.
"megumi! this is the new grade 1 sorcerer who will be joining your class along with itadori!"
megumi doesn't know whether to be more impressed at how easily you put up with gojo or at the fact that you're already a grade 1 sorcerer at your age. but what he does know is that his life is about to get a lot more interesting as he watches you bow to him.
"nice to officially meet you, fushiguro," you say, a playful glint in your eyes as you smile sweetly at him. "i hope we can be friends."
"l-likewise," he responds, trying to ignore the shit-eating grin on gojo's face when he hears him stutter. he's given no warning before gojo pushes you into him, muttering something about a last-minute mission and how he would greatly appreciate it if megumi could give you the tour instead. the thumbs-up and kissy face that gojo sends him before turning the corner makes megumi blush even harder, and he finds himself holding back a groan when he realizes you witnessed the entire exchange.
yeah, this year was not going to be easy for him at all.
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wc: 865 reblogs are appreciated <3
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landograndprix · 10 months
Text
where your heart truly lies ✾ l.n
❧ in which you and lando are not together, right?
❧ a/n – no real ending because I actually wanted to make this into a mini lando series but I'm not sure yet 🤪
next part
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y/nusername
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liked by riabish, landonorris and 19,101 others
y/nusername roadtrippin' + maximilian 💫
tagged: riabish, yourbestfrienduser, maxfewtrell
view all 272 comments
lnfourrr lmao the y/n making a fool of max saga continues
ynloveee girls trip? new vlog soon? 👀
fewtrelllando since when is max a girl? 💀
yourbestfrienduser max has a serve case of FOMO, little bit obsessed with us if we have to be completely honest.
fewtrelllando just one if the girls 💅
riabish had so much fun ❤️
landonn4 can I join next time? I'm willing to pay a lot of money..
maxfewtrell you know what, I can't stand you..
y/nusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourbestfrienduser you've never looked better babes.
landonorris mate you look amazing.
charlos_16 I need this friendship 😭
landonorris you could've picked me up along the way.
y/nusername we could but we didn't.
landonorris you're lucky you're cute.
papayaarmy flirting on the main?
landoscar lando get a grip, what about your actual girlfriend 🤡
☆☆☆☆☆
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestfrienduser and 21,893 others
y/nusername @.yourbestfrienduser burfday weekend 🍸 ft. bradley fewtrell
tagged: landonorris, yourbestfrienduser, maxfewtrell
view all 289 comments
landoscar4 happy burfday @.yourbestfrienduser 🥰
yourbestfrienduser thanks for the weekend, lovers 💞
y/nusername ❤️
landonorris ❤️
maxfewtrell ❤️
carlandooo lovers?! How do I get in this group,I need to be y'alls friend, let me in pls 😭
y/nslandoo happy burfday gremlin #4 💗
charles_lec so did anyone check up on lando's gf?
chilisainz she doesn't even follow y/n, I doubt she's seeing this 💀
landofourr why do y'all feel the need to involve lando's gf in everything y/n does?
charles_lec because It's wrong lmao, lando should let his gf go if he's so in love with y/n??
norriizzoscar me reading these comments realising y/n is in fact NOT landos girlfriend 🙃
quadrantfewtrell where do I apply to join the group?
maxfewtrell you've got to be kidding me..
y/nusername absolutely not
landonorris you're looking cute mate
yourbestfrienduser you're looking fine af, stop complaining man
maxyn happy birthday muppet!
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nnorriss
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liked by 279 others
y/norriss 'just friends' my ass 😂
view all 122 comments
lnfourlando is that y/n? 😭
y/nnorriss yeah
lnfourlando where'd you get this pictures from?
y/nnorriss my sister she worked for mclaren this weekend and the other one max accidentally posted on his stories but already deleted it
mclando lando I luv you but you better have dumped your gf 😭
suziee00 now fucking way lmao what???
norpias I know I've been joking about them getting together but I'm feeling sad for his gf now 😭
fewtrelllando am I the only one who's not surprised?
lanmax about damn time..
charles_26 someone please check up on his actual girlfriend, this is sad :(
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hanasnx · 2 months
Note
oh pornstar ani how i’ve missed you
what do u think he’d be like with a virgin? do u think he’d like it or would he rather be with someone more experienced?
-🎀
MINORS DNI 18+
ADULTFILM!ANAKIN SKYWALKER prefers someone more experienced. There’s a frailty to a virgin that's difficult to get around, and since he’s impatient and far from a teacher, he doesn’t want to have to drag someone through the process. There's a lot of messiness that can come with being someone's first. Someone with experience can bring a lot of unspoken trust, professionalism, and conversation to the table which helps blend the pair together. Especially because Anakin has a nasty habit of taking things too far, he needs someone with the ability to say no in the moment before he gets carried away. It’s not that he hates virgins, dislikes them, or thinks they’re useless, he just prefers experienced co-stars.
However, there’s been an exception: you, a virgin porn-star. You’ve been laughed at in this industry, endlessly and you’ve learned to take the joke. A virgin porn-star sounds like an oxymoron if you've ever heard one. You do at-home stuff from the safety of your own camera and PC, stuff with anal beads and dildos you order off Bad Dragon. A live show occurs every so often. Of course you’re not an expert, but that’s the point. Your whole schtick online is that you’re clueless to angles, and performances.
Your comment section is a slew of dudes asking invasive questions. Do you have a boyfriend, are you waiting for your wedding day, does he know you do this depraved shit late at night for strangers to thirst over? Do you know that you're a minority here, that you'll never get farther than a glorified over-rated amateur? When will you lose your virginity and just get over with? But they're the same guys that jack off to your virtuous pussy on full display to the camera you bought with the money you made off this demographic.
No, you've never had a boyfriend, but that doesn't mean you can't explore yourself... Besides, you think it's fun that guys clamber to beg to be your first. One comment in particular had you thinking real hard. "You should film me fucking that pretty pussy for the first time... that'll get you a lot of views." When you'd started this account, you were sure you would've lost your virginity in the traditional way. Meet a great guy, go out, he sweeps you off your feet, and you go home with him, happily ever after. But you're getting along, and now getting it over with doesn't sound too bad, especially at the prospect of commercializing an asset you didn't realize you were sitting on.
So you campaigned it. You'd mention it any chance you got. On your profile, in your social media bios, in your videos, you let people know you were looking to break into the professional side of the industry. You didn't wanna be a virgin making home videos anymore, you want a job and you want your audience to pick who plucks that sacred coveted flower.
Until one day: "I've got a guy for you." You stare at that message a long time.
Anakin's not one to shy away from a job outside his comfort zone, especially when his director calls in a favor. So he helps you get situated as a courtesy, "This isn't like making your videos in your bedroom, don't be fooled by the pressure." His large hand takes yours and places it on his forearm, you try to ignore how thick and corded it feels under your palm as he pats it with your hand. "Give me a double tap like that if you need to stop. Anywhere you can reach." You nod, and give an uneasy look around the room that had a lot more people in it than you're used to, this is a set after all. You start to regret how famous your initial posts went.
"Hey." Firmly, he grips you chin, redirecting your gaze onto him. "Don't look at them, look at me. I'm the one that's gonna be inside you, alright?" His tone is perfectly casual, as if he's explained this a thousand times. You nod again. Why are you actually excited for this stranger to take your virginity?
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catcze · 6 months
Note
NO BC LISTEN.
WIRO REACTING TO HIS CRUSH/LOVER WEARING A SUIT. LIKE IT FITS THEIR FRAME SO PERFECTLY AND SNUGLY AND WDYM “WHY IS HE LOOKING” OFC HE’S LOOKING LIKE HELLO???
I can’t tell if he would shameless let his eyes roam or would avoid looking at them KDIDKSKSK WIRO BRAINROT IS SO REALL
KAJNSDSA BROOO OMG okokokok something along the lines but 👀
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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You're fiddling with the cuffs of your suit as you exit the changing room, a frown on your face. You're nervous— of course you are! It's not often that you're invited to a high-profile, black-tie event like this, and you'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb.
Wriothesley, who sits comfortably in a plush armchair, has been invited before though. But time and time again he's turned down the invites with some of the most ludicrous excuses. 'A monster is attacking the fortress' is one of his most used ones, closely followed by 'a bird shat on the shoulder of my suit.' But you wonder why he's accepted this time, despite his distaste for the limelight. Well, you shrug, pocketing the thought for later. At least you won't be going alone.
"What do you think?" You pose the question to him, still frowning as you look down at yourself. Did you look okay? Was the fit alright? Did this color wash you out? You had splurged on this (well. Wriothesley splurged on this, technically. He had said it's a gift) and had the suit custom-done, so it should fit your measurements to an exact, but... you frown, not able to shake off the nerves.
And it doesn't help that Wriothesley hasn't said anything since you've stepped out, either. Merely stares at you, eyes roaming your figure. Even at your question, he acts like he hadn't even heard it. Does the suit look that bad?
"Wrio?"
That seems to reach him, and he blinks, finally registering that he's been staring at you— and that you've begun to stare back.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, it looks nice on you. The tailor did a very good job," he says, glancing away, hoping you don't see the red tinge to his cheeks or his ears.
"Really?" You ask, evaluating yourself in the mirror with a frown. "I don't know. I feel like I look like a mess."
"if you look like a mess, then I dread to think what I look like," he says, glancing at you for a second, getting an eyeful of you in that damn good suit, and feels his mouth dry up again. Wriothesley turns his eyes to the corner of the room, finding the fake palm plant there incredibly interesting. Barely more interesting than you. In that very flattering suit. It emphasizes your body very well, he thinks. Makes him see just enough of you while still leaving some to the imagination. And the color you chose for it... red and black, to match what he'll wear, you said. He sighs, troubled, because just the mere memory of it has his heart racing and his palms sweating.
You keep criticizing your reflection for a while longer, and it takes just enough time for Wriothesley to work up the self-control to look your way. "You look good," he says at last. Then clears his throat. His face feels hot. "Better than good, even. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise."
It placates you, because you finally give your own reflection a rest. You back away from the mirror, humming. "If you say so. Thank you, Wrio," you tell him, flashing him a small, shy smile just before you back up into the changing room once more to take it off.
Once you're out of the vicinity, Wriothesley drops his head into his palms, groaning softly.
if he's this much of a mess around you at a fitting, he wonders how much of a fool he could make himself at the actual event.
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ghostgirl101 · 4 months
Note
Hi!! Loved your post about Oliver Quick being obsessed. How about Farleigh being obsessed with you 👁️👁️👁️
Dating Farleigh Start Would Be Like This...
A/N: Pffft his face here is a whole mood 😭 I got a similar request for Felix too, so he's next 🙃 Dating headcanons coming right up, with a side order of freaking obsessive, naturally:
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⚜️• I don't know what to say about this guy that isn't already shown in the pic 😏 he's a cocky, rude, arrogant flirtatious player who takes every opportunity and advantage to use to his best. Once something's caught his attention, it'll play on his mind and he'll get to it in his own way, because that's the Farleigh Start we know and love.
⚜️• You'll meet him at Oxford, maybe hanging out around his friends with Felix and the rest, maybe not. I think he'd be very much drawn to someone who's not like the girls he sees always running after Felix or trying to make him jealous when they don't have his attention. You be you, and when he uses a very bold and seemingly smooth line on you, give him a look of amusement and slight confusion, and he'll be stunned that you didn't fall all over him for his charms like he's used to.
⚜️• Farleigh just watches you leave for a solid minute in bewilderment and intrigue because the guy got kicked out of every school because of how he is, but apparently, you're not that easy? This is new...?
⚜️• Don't think Farleigh's just some rich prick playboy who has to pick on the smarter kids to stay in college though, because he's surprisingly smart, which wouldn't be a first guess based on the way he acts around people and mocks anyone who isn't anywhere in his circle of friends and social class with Felix. If you saw him reviewing essays and stuff with Oliver and the teacher near the beginning of the movie, you can see he knows his terminology and how to study to get good enough grades in class. The only reason he kept getting kicked out of schools was for messing around with the teachers. It's not like Farleigh's stupid, not at all, but there's no way he's going to work harder than he has to... which isn't that hard at all.
⚜️• So when he saunters over to you yet again with his familiar arrogant smirk and charm, offering you a drink while his eyes unsubtly trail up and down your figure in intrigue, and you smile in amusement and casually turn him down... 😑😐 (his face) and then realises that okay, he might have to work harder than he usually does, because there's something about you that's made him curious, Farleigh has to rethink for a second before trying to get you to tag along with him and his friends more often.
⚜️• If Felix doesn't ask you over to Saltburn for the holidays, Farligh will nag at him to do it, with seemingly no other reason than "you're hot" and "why not have a new face?" and whatever else he thinks up on the spot that's half earnest and true, and also because a big manor out in the country with private gardens is just the perfect place to take this person he's been mildly obsessing over for the past while to draw them in... Felix, say yes now, because boy won't take no for an answer.
⚜️• During the course of your stay and hanging out around Farleigh, you'll come to realise that he's actually not a total jackass and snob that fools around with any girl he thinks is hot enough. His ties with the Cattons are pretty fragile and complex, and there's a lot more to him than he'll ever really show. There's a lot of pressure in fitting in and matching Saltburn's aesthetic and definition, but if you're someone who's not completely used to all the wealth and standards and makes him feel more relaxed and accepted without a facade everyone seems to wear, you'll see more and more of what makes Farleigh, Farleigh.
⚜️• So well done to him for discovering that there's more to an aspiring relationship than just the sex and passion, there's communication and actually getting to know each other too 👏
⚜️• As you get properly closer, you'll see that the dude gets ridiculously jealous when any other guy or girl shows an interest in you that goes past platonic in his eyes. He's started arguments and fights before about lesser things, so don't think he won't tense up and his eyes won't narrow into an annoyed glare at whoever it is that's taking up too much of your time. Farleigh will probably finish it off by humiliating them in some way, smirking in amusement from his seat as he watches his efforts pay off, and shrug with a faux innocent look when you call him out on it.
⚜️• If Oliver Quick happens to be Felix's guest at Saltburn too, Farleigh's jealousy levels and possessiveness will spike too, along with a hint of protectiveness. Since he basically thought right from the beginning that there was something weird about Oliver - maybe not to the realistic point that's revealed, but enough to not have one friendly or lighthearted word for him - Oliver going to you for friendship or most likely something more will only motivate Farleigh to exclude him as much as he can from the rest of the group.
⚜️• I feel like Farleigh would grow to quickly love what it means to be in a committed and official relationship, when before he turned his nose up at the idea of being restrained to only one person instead of a fling, and not having to worry about telling each other things that go too deep. It seems to all come naturally with you, and he loves it; being a loud and gleefully obnoxious supporter when you're doing whatever club or sport or anything at all with half a crowd watching from the sidelines. Proud, smug boyfriend right in the front row taking an unnecessary amount of photos to put up on a wall in his room.
⚜️• Farleigh makes simping look good. 😎
⚜️• He'll take advantage of the money he gets to buy you as expensive things as he can get, smirking proudly when he remembers you talking about something you like to get you. Farleigh can absolutely be romantic if he tries, mostly when you're alone and he makes sure he's the first one to tell you he loves you, it'll be surprisingly heartfelt and sweet and vulnerable, and then you've officially, one hundred per cent, seen Farleigh Start for everything he really is, which isn't all bad at all.
⚜️• Big-time pda, and if you're not into that, tell him now, right now, because he's fairly shameless and won't think twice before showing off to his friends by making out with you at uncalled moments, or being more subtle and sweet by having his arm naturally around your shoulders when you're watching a movie or at some social event. Big handholder as well; walking to and from class, alone, in public, doesn't make a difference to him.
⚜️• His jealousy factors into his affection outside sometimes, not that he doesn't trust you, but Farleigh definitely isn't the only player around, and when you're at Saltburn with Felix, he might find himself being frustratedly insecure that you'll be drawn to him because... well, it's Felix, and everyone loves Felix. So when you show that you're not interested at all and it's Farleigh you're dating, duh, he'll chill out a bit after being clingy for a day or two.
⚜️• I will say that even though I don't write smut, it's gotta be obvious that you'll have more than enough going on behind closed doors, because it's Farleigh, and he likes you a lot, so... yeah, brace yourself 😏
⚜️• All I'm gonna say, though, is watch out for Oliver Quick, who's most likely watching it all with that familiar longing and envy of having such a close and strong relationship with someone beautiful and unique, who seems to fit in with the rest of the family just by being you. He's going to. want it, really want it, and whether he gets it or not is a matter of luck and dark fate.
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