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nicksolemnlyswears · 1 year

Note

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

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!!

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.

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.

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?

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.

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."

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.

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.

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 ❤️

#request #han lue imagine #fanfiction #fast and furious fanfiction #fast and furious #han lue fanfiction #han seoul oh #han lue x reader #han lue request #han lue #han lue imagines #han x reader #han x you #han lue smut #smut

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smellslikechahnspirit · 25 days

Note

Request: so 👁️🫦👁️ it's inspired by his solo performance song "railways" and my request is: chan clubbing with the team after a successful tour -in the club, red lights, party - suddenly she caught his eye.

he texts this girl saying he had his eyes on her all the evening he loved how she was dressed black short dress very sexy with her long hair loose sitting alone by the bar and that he'd like to meet her or something!!

Thank you ✨

Rail me

[You did what you both have been wanting to do for a long time]

BangChan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL. I DO NOT SEXUALISE CHRIS IN ANY WAY OR FORM.

ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!

11:51 PM

It was almost as if he could litterly feel the sweat coming off of everyone. The club was overheated. People dancing up against each other everywhere. Music loud. Red lights bright in his face. He was having some what of a good time with his friends. Yet something didn´t quite meet his needs. Even though he was in a room full of people, he felt lonely. Hey bro, I think imma head out soon. I´m beat. I understand, get home safe yeah? Bet. After he said his goodbye to Felix, who by the way was still full on dancing with Hyunjin, since hours ago, he decided to indeed leave. Right before heading out he noticed you. The girl he has had feelings for, for some years now. Both never really confessing, you kinda knew there was something there. He thought about it for a second, and decided to just text you. Something about his lonely needs...would be cured, he thought.

Right as you read his last send message you were tapped on the shoulder. You turned but no one was there. Boo. You turned the other way and saw Chris standing there. With that signature goofy-looking smile on his face. Dork. You smiled back. He gave you a hug and a soft kiss on your cheek. Hi love, looking so hot tonight huh. When? Hm? When did I ask? He made the ´-_-´ face and you started laughing. I´m kidding I´m kidding, thanks for the compliment. He sat next to you on one of the bar stools. So, where is the rest of the gang huh? Still dancing I guess. Hm I see. Both of you watch the dance floor as Felix and Hyunjin were looking a lot like a scene from White Chicks. Fire. Fire. Both of you laughed. But there was something about the way Chris kept looking at you. More intense then normally. More hungry. What? Chris didn´t wanna waste anymore time and threw himself into the deep. Let´s get out of here. Huh? Let´s go to my place. Innie is still here, and by the looks of it...he won´t be home soon. Let´s go? You weren´t someone who just did these kinds of things with men, like ever. But you liked Chris since the day you guys first met. Was he really suggesting, what you thought he was suggesting? You looked at him confused at first. Then questionable. Trust me, yeah? You did, you trusted him with your life. You got up and took his hand. Both leaving the club and he drove you to his dorm.

00:23 AM

When he opened the door and closed it back behind you, he once again, didn´t waste any time. He pinned you up against the wall and started kissing you. After a few seconds you stopped him. Chris...once we go there...there is no turning back. He pulled your messy hair away from your eyes and looked at you. What are you worried about? You want this too right? Yes..yes I do very much. But people... People? What people? I don´t see anyone here? He said as he prentend to look for someone in the dorm. People won´t like this. And what about what I like? And you? Hm? Don´t worry about the cassulties baby. You´re safe, while it´s just you and me. Your fear of people finding out was real, but he had a point. No one knew. And besides. He and you are adults and should be able to do whatever you both wanted, without caring what other people wanted. Fear is dead. Nothing but desire crawled into your veins and you pushed him away a bit further. But the worried look you had a couple of seconds ago was turned into a hungry one. He smirked right back. You slowly started to undress yourself. He watched you every move. His heart was racing. He grabbed your face again and kissed it hard. You kept taking off pieces of clothing as he did the same to his. Not breaking the kiss once. Once you were both almost naked, only underwear left on your bodies, He grabbed your legs, making you jump up and wrapping around his waist. He walked over to his bedroom and locked the door. Throwing you onto his bed making you giggle. He stood in front of you palming himself through his boxers. You kept looking at him. God he was so perfect. Sculpted by the gods themselves. Not a flaw on his body or soul. The thought of him touching you, was enough to make you wet. You couldn´t take the tension anymore and started rubbing your clit through your panties. He kept watching you as he got closer and closer. You want me yeah? Just like I want you? You could only nod. By now he was bascially hovering over you. Allow me? He took your hand away from yourself and pinned it above your head. His other hand unclipped your bra first, then went over to your panties. He did the same thing you were doing before, yet when he did it, it felt different. He looked at you for confirmation to continue and you nodded again. He pulled your black laced panties to the side and his bare touch felt better than ever. He noticed you closing your eyes in pleasure. He knew you liked it when he touched you. Waited for this for a long time, huh babe? Shut up. He laughed. You opened your eyes and pulled him on the bed next to you. He turned around so now he was the one on his back. You have been waiting for it as long as I have, Mr. Bahng. He smirked and put his hands behind his head. Admired by the way you took control for a second there. Go ahead. You did as he said and pulled his boxers down, throwing them on the ground. The cold air making him hiss. You weren´t surprised by his size, since well, he has a big nose and feet. We all know what they say... You didn´t want anything more then to have him in your mouth right now. So you did. He let loose and completly went with his desired feelings, lost in lust. Gosh, your mouth feels like heaven, how come we didn´t do this sooner...shit. You hummed around him making it feel even better. Fuck y/n...shit...don´t stop...please... After about 30 more seconds of you sucking him, you finally stopped. Making him growl due to frustration at the sudden lost feeling. Which was pure bliss. When he came back to his senses he knew what you wanted. He scootched down a bit so his head was now flat on the bed. Sit. You hesitated at first. Feeling too exposed too fast. He pulled you closer and again spoke. Take a seat, baby. You gave in to the feeling and obeyed his commants. He grabbed you ass in his hands as he started eating you out. Making you throw your head back. Making you moan, but instandly you covered your mouth, shocked by your own noise. Let loose baby, moan, no one is here. Enjoy the ride. And fuck, you did.

Completely lost yourself now, his tounge worked wonders on your clit. Your brain sending waves of pleasure and extacy through your entire body. More, please. More! When you got close to your climax he stopped and pulled you off of him. You too, were angry at the sudden loss of the feeling. He giggled. Out of breath from all the moaning you dropped down face deep into the pillows below you. His abs touching your back as he whispered. I wanna fuck you. Too tired to respond, you just wiggled your ass. He understood, and positioned himself at your entrence, from behind. Your pussy was already so arroused and wet, it made his dick glide like butter. Please... You couldn´t wait any longer. Yet he kept teasing you, and rubbging his dick along your slit. It made you eager and you sat up on your hands and knees. You never imagined your first time with him would be doggy style, but it felt right. Maybe now, you wouldn´t get too attached. He positioned himself once again and pushed the tip in. Only the tip, yet it hurt a little. Wait. You said as you pushed his leg slightly with your hand. You okay? Am I hurting you? You waited for yourself to adjust a little and shook your head. No, it´s fine now. Keep going. He wanted this so bad, but only if it felt good for the both of you. You tell me if it does hurt, okay baby. You nodded. He figured it would be faster if he just pushed it in, in one go. So he did. Making you gasp. Baby! Shit! He kept looking at you, to see if you were still alright. Once he saw you were, he started moving. First slow strokes...Getting used to the new sensation. As were you, but you wanted more, faster then expected. Chris, move faster... Pleased at your request, he gladly did so. Both of you moaning, as he picked up the pace. Fuck you feel so goddamn good around me y/n. As he said that he smacked your ass hard, making you whine at the pain mixed with pleasure. He grabbed your ass tightly as he continued fucking you roughly, yet lovely. You two continued for a long time...but after a while you did start to feel the tension of your orgasm coming back. So did he. Are we gonna cum at the same time baby? Yes, yes, yes. A few more thrusts and he came inside of you. At the same time you felt your orgasm rush over you. All that build up tension exploting in one go. Feeling hot. Tintling through your veins. God it felt so good. Thinking about both of you cumming at the same time, and mixing your juices together was kinda romantic in a way. God I wanna do that again. You said as you plopped down into the matras. Same, fucking hell. That was amazing. He replied as he also dropped down into the bed, next to you. Giving you a soft kiss. Let´s go even harder for round two. You wanted nothing more, but definetly needed a little break and catch your breath. I´ll get you something to drink baby, wait here. Be right back. You turned around, now laying on your back, admiring him as he nakedly walked out of his room. He had such a great ass, it´s indescribable. You smiled to your self as you relived the moments from seconds ago, in your head. Happy and satisfied as can be. But the second he walked out of that door, he yelled. AHHH! You instandly sat up, wanting to know what happened. Innie....how long have you been here?! He spoke to the traumatised-looking boy, who was currently holding onto a pillow for dear life. Oops...

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

#stray kids #skz #incorrect quotes #skz fake texts #skz x reader #bangchan #scenario #bangchan x reader #faketexts #incorrect kpop quotes #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #bangchan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #skz smut #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut

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annymation · 10 months

Text

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #reimagined #rewrite #disney #wish 2023 #wish asha #wish star #king magnifico #wish movie #wish disney #wish rambles #wish rewrite #Asha #long post #wishrewrite

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mamayan · 1 year

Note

Humbly requesting Yobai with Giyuu (he goes to reader), a lil bit of yandere spice appreciated ✨👀

For you Desi? Anything ♡ This man makes me love the color blue~

★YOBAI☆

Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader

tw: Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Oral (F) • Fingering (F) • Light Overstimulation • Rough Sex • Light Breath Play • Fluff/Humor

YOBAI Series: Kyojuro, Sanemi, Obanai/Mitsuri

Idea given by @rottmntrulesall and continuously inspired by @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ♡

“I love you.”

He had been too stunned to reply, left frozen like a fool, unable to truly fathom those three simple words. He understood what they meant, but oddly his brain just couldn’t fathom how it factored in him.

You loved him? He wanted to ask you why first and foremost. It left him reeling, because did you mean you loved him like a friend? Did you only love him like family?

Did you love him like a man?

He was moving aimlessly, arms crossed as he stalked the residential streets near his home. His face set in its familiar stoic default, hiding his inner turmoil as his legs carry him down another set of homes.

He’s hardly paying any attention, only reacting to the voice which calls out in the quiet night.

“Tomioka-san? Are you out on a mission?” Colors clash as Giyuu comes face to face with the flame pillar Kyojuro Rengoku.

The man was dressed casually, holding what appeared to be confectioneries from a local shop boxed up in one hand. His gaze was friendly and curious as ever, smile as warm as its owner.

That’s right, Giyuu thought, the flame Hashira had gotten himself engaged had he not? He must have some sort of knowledge of this unfamiliar unfurling within his chest.

It was driving him nearly mad, the way your voice seemed to echo that single sentence on repeat.

“Rengoku-san… you’re experienced in love?” The water pillar’s question struck something weirdly familiar in Kyojuro, as Giyuu moved closer. The dark haired young man looked tired; which, coupled with his expressionless face only aided in aging his appearance.

“Haha! Yes! I am getting married soon!” His boisterous laugh grates on Giyuu’s ears, but he grits his teeth and endures for the sake of figuring all this out.

“Y/N said she loved me…” if Kyojuro hadn’t known the gloomy man for so many years, he might’ve thought Giyuu was scared in the admission.

The flame Hashira just wanted to go home and eat the sweets he bought with his fiancé, not have this conversation in front of his house. His lip twitched, but smile remained as he cautiously prodded further.

“And…?” His smile dropped at Giyuu’s blank face.

“What?” His eye twitched.

“Tomioka-san… did you say anything back?” Kyojuro felt a pang of pity for you as Giyuu shook his head, lips set in a firm line.

“So you just rejected her?” Giyuu’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t reject her…?”

“You did though Tomioka-san.”

Kyojuro wanted to go home, but a strange moral obligation kept him speaking, and for a moment he wondered if his family gave off matchmaker energy.

He’d speak with his father later, for now he focused on aiding his social awkward comrade as quickly as possible.

He felt further conflicted after speaking with Rengoku.

So he spent his free time following you, his thoughts consumed by you, fighting the pull he felt. This couldn’t possibly be healthy or normal, you shouldn’t haunt even his dreams. You respected his space, but every hopeful glance you sent his way sent him spiraling further.

Why did you need to be so lovely? So hard working and dedicated, you spent your days busy and helpful. Giyuu never truly realized how busy a Kakushi’s day could be, but it was possible it was just you.

Were you overworking yourself?

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

You sneeze cutely.

He likes how you laugh.

Your eyes glitter when you see the notes he begins anonymously leaving you, searching anywhere and everywhere, yet never seeing him from his perch in the trees. He likes the game he starts of cat and mouse, amusing himself watching you struggle to figure it out.

You’re quite the detective though, finally bringing out a simple note to show Kocho who recognizes his script.

He still doesn’t reveal himself, avoiding your growing awareness.

He enjoys spending his free time watching over you, dancing around your confession, until someone new appears in your little world.

A male demon slayer, around his own age, asking you on a date.

A romantic one. The sort which leads to engagement and marriage. He nearly pulled his blade, a boiling rage bubbling up and over his top, red flashing through his gaze.

You declined, polite and kind as always, but it didn’t matter. That man spoke to you because Giyuu hadn’t claimed you.

You were his weren’t you? You said you loved him.

Giyuu grit his teeth, face distorted even now as you returned to work and the day faded into night.

Even training was useless, his mind conjuring up images of you with someone else, smiling and directing that soft gaze on them.

His blade came down again, body covered in sweat as he huffs in exhaustion.

It still wasn’t enough. He was trembling from his own emotions attempting to claw through his chest.

He was tired of feeling regret.

The thought of “if I’d only been stronger, arrived sooner, said something” plaguing him until he stood outside your home.

In the middle of the night.

The moon hung as a crescent shining down, surrounded by a sea of stars.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, sword still attached to his hip as he moved forward. Gravel crunched under his sandals.

It seemed the closer he got to you, the more agitated he felt.

His hands shaking when he reached the front door, fist clenched and hand raised as if to knock. He froze, realization dawning on how this might look to any nosy neighbors who might be passing by. He slipped around back, away from sight and instead using a side entrance into your home that was left unlocked.

That fact made him uncomfortable as he moved forward on silent feet, his shoes left neatly by the door as he explored in search of your bedroom.

His chest continuing to itch with frustration until he slid the last shoji back to reveal a simple small room. A futon laid in the center where a bundle laid under the covers.

You looked serene, tucked sweetly away in bed and dreaming of something nice if the small smile on your lips was any indication.

He sighed, sitting down beside your bed with one foot propped up to lean on, looking down at you while you dozed.

Almost an hour passed before he grew impatient again, memories of today still on repeat as he tries to calm himself by just looking at you.

Except he didn’t just want to look anymore, he didn’t want to only observe and tease from afar. He wanted to hold you, speak to you, touch you.

He stood silently, taking off his sword and leaning it against your back wall, moving again to stand over your futon where you laid curled in the middle like a sleeping cat. Completely ignorant to his inner turmoil as he kneels before crawling completely over you.

That’s what you awake to, the figure of Giyuu Tomioka looming over you while you slept.

You startle, not immediately recognizing him in your half dreaming state, mouth opening to speak before a hand gently but firmly covers it.

“Don’t scream,” they weren’t very comforting words, your eyes widening fearfully and trying to adjust to the dark room, but it’s the voice which gives your panic pause.

“I just…” he didn’t know what he needed, because it clearly wasn’t just to see or merely touch you anymore. “I wanted to ask if you meant it… back then.” He was grateful the room was dark, his face feeling hot despite the cool air surrounding him.

You weren’t struggling or fighting him, seeming to have realized who he was already. Giyuu released his hold over your mouth, taking in your pretty features painted by dim moonlight with your eyes trained on him.

“I did mean it,” your voice cute and slurred as you sleepily answer, curious and less afraid now that you know who paid you a nightly visit.

Was he here for…? The thought seemed ridiculous, because Giyuu always struck you as a bit reserved, but why else would he be here in the middle of the night asking you about your confession?

You were still tired, but it helped dispel any nerves which might’ve been present had the sun been up. You let your arms raise slowly, as if it might scare the fearsome demon slayer, and wrapped them around his neck.

It pulled him in a little closer, and you could make out his features a little better like this.

His breath stuck in his throat, enamored by your close proximity, your soft sweet scent, and your words.

You meant it.

You wanted him, and while he was overcome with the urge to self-sabotage his happiness and remind you of his flaws, he was stopped by you leaning up.

Your kiss was feather light, just grazing his own for a split second before pulling away.

He chased you though, his own slotting against yours this time, but the force and pressure has you gasping so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You whined but he devoured it as he pushed the hot muscle around with your own, lighting you with the same passion he was feeling.

He let some of his weight drop, pinning you to prevent you from wiggling away from him, letting his thigh spread your own so he could slot himself in between.

Your yukata was in disarray, so when Giyuu’s groin pressed against your own it was only his pants separating him from your sex.

The feeling of something hard and thick pressing against your slick heat had you moaning, fabric sliding and creating delicious friction against your hooded nub. Shocks of pleasure jolted up your skin, but it was Giyuu’s own groan and pause that disrupted the kiss.

He realized there was nothing beneath your sleepwear, your soft thighs naked up to your stomach, and his own body hiding your slit from his view.

You caught your breath, watching as Giyuu lifted up and moved down your body, fingers quickly digging into the plush flesh of your inner thighs when they tried to close.

“Keep them open.” His eyes are narrowed on the expression of arousal and embarrassment you wear, lips titling up a bit as he smooths his hands down to your ass. “Be good for me,” you nearly choke when he says the words, but you really do when his tongue flicks out right over your puffy clit. Fingers dig into the futon while your eyes lock with his own, ensnared by the lewd show he makes of flattening his tongue and dragging it up slowly through your folds, adding pressure when he feels your legs start to shake.

His languid licks grow more fervent by the minute, his own desperation hastening his movements to lap and suck at your clit, before dropping down to prod your entrance with the tip. Your hips jerk, back arching as you grind against his face, slick coating his lips and chin as he eats you like a man starved.

“G-Giyuu, fuck, please,” it takes him a a moment to realize you used his first name, but when he does he nearly swears aloud.

Grunting when he feels your fingers tangle in his dark hair, Giyuu moves his hand around to press a finger against your tight hole, his tongue not stopping his assault on your throbbing nub. He watches you as he sinks his middle finger inside, the way you twitch and whine, lips parted and eyes heavy lidded as you pant.

Giyuu moans as he sinks deeper inside you, the snug fit around even just one finger as your feverish gummy insides massaged it had his hips rutting into the futon below.

He can tell you’re close, it’s not difficult with the way you buck and pull him closer as he adds a second finger, beginning to stretch you out and pump now.

Giyuu curls his fingers, watching it light you up as you cry out, pretty cunt grinding down and trying to seek even more friction as you tremble and moan.

He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t boost his ego.

It’s when a third finger begins to squeeze into your snug walls that you jerk back, his hand wrapped around your thigh and anchoring your hip keeping you from going anywhere though.

He pauses his movements as you pant, looking at your scrunched features as you adjust to the tiny sting.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slowly sinking three of his thick calloused fingers inside of you, “so lovely and all mine, aren’t you?” His voice has dropped an octave as he lazily pumps his digits, soaked by your arousal and sliding in easier and easier as you relax.

Only when your brows unfurl does he smirk and kiss your inner thigh, sticking his tongue out and dragging it against your skin back to the little bundle of nerves.

The feeling of being so full and his tongue just softly tracing over your clit sends you over the edge.

“I-I’m—hah,” your head falls back as the first wave washes over you, gentle but building. The wet squelching of Giyuu still licking and fucking his fingers into you getting louder, as you realize with a shaky inhale that he’s not stopping.

“Giyuu…!” He tightens his grip, brows furrowing as you break his concentration, intent on absolutely devouring you. You might’ve came but he’s not done with your swollen bud or leaking slit, his fingers leaving your entrance in favor of wiggling the powerful muscle in his mouth inside you. Your core spams around it, cries growing as you nearly rip strands of his hair out in your desperation for relief from his mouth. You can’t break his grip on you, the next orgasm striking you like a slap as you cum.

“Mhn—!” Your burning eyes finally blur as tears spill, the ache inside you releasing as pleasure clouds your mind into oblivion.

Giyuu only stops when your shaking subsides, lessening his ministrations as you come down from your second high.

He doesn’t realize it’s him shaking until your muscles go lax and limp in his hold, his hands trembling with restraint as he drags himself back up to look down at your blissed out face.

It’s so cute it nearly enrages him, his hands quickly taking off his haori and uniform, yanking at fabric aggressively as he tries to free his painfully hard cock from the confines of his clothes.

You’re still catching your breath, blinking your blurry vision away only to see Giyuu’s naked torso draping over you as he unties your belt and fully opens your yukata.

Your eyes have fully adjusted now, able to clearly see his toned pale skin on display. Scars littered his pretty skin, hard planes of muscle a testament to his devotion as a slayer, but his steely gaze isn’t cool like the water breathing he uses. Those dark blue pools are boiling as he looks at your soft nude figure, hands quick to grasp your hips and slide up to your chest.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this…” his solemn and possessive tone have goosebumps erupting on your skin. The feel of his hands are rough as they trail and dance across your breasts, two fingers coming together to pinch harshly at your nipple, pulling a huffed squeak from your lips as you pout up at him.

He smiles at you.

Not a half smirk or tiny twitch of his lip, but a warm smile filled with adoration, and it leaves you vulnerable for his next attack.

He plants one forearm just above your head, leaning close for a searing slow kiss that was downright filthy in how he lewdly moaned into your mouth. The deep sound reverberating into you as you melt further beneath him.

You’re distracted, boneless legs easily pried further open for his hips as he slides closer to you, his free hand letting the reddened soft tip of his cock brush through your soaked lower lips.

You jolt at the sensation, the heat of his body taking you by surprise, but his mouth follows when you pull back, biting down on your lower lip and licking the sting away when you whine.

Then you feel pressure, at first odd but not painful. Giyuu huffs against your mouth as your walls crush the tip of his cock as he pushes in.

“Relax for me, let me in,” he’s fighting hard not to just shove entirely inside you in one thrust. Your warm and soft body leaving his head muddled as he pulls out, before pushing in again, working himself deeper inch by inch.

Your clammy palms find his biceps, fingers digging into the hard muscle as you try to obey and relax for him, but you can’t help when you clamp down with the feeling of being invaded by his burning rod continually shoving into you. He wasn’t outright painfully thick, but his length far surpassed his fingers as his cock pushed your limits before he was fully seated inside, tip pushing up your cervix to fit completely while your legs trembled and tensed around him.

“Y/N,” you didn’t mean to close your eyes, just consumed with concentrating on getting used to him, when a large palm cupped your cheek and encouraged you to look up. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, flushed and heaving for breath just from feeling you squeeze around him, brows taunt as he gazes at you with those softening eyes.

“Am I hurting you?” You shake your head, because it didn’t hurt, he was just stretching you out so much it was leaving you reeling.

He seemed to understand as he chuckles, kissing your temple as his hips slowly drag out of you, each vein on his cock rubbing in his exit. Your nails bite deeper into his skin, your exhale of breath sharp before he shifted and nudged a new spot that made you moan.

“There?” He’s not actually asking you. Not when he sinks back in, watching your every expression while gauging where that spot was.

He brushes it with his tip, the spongey area making you clench and slacken in the same moment, toes curling as the thickness inside seems almost unbearable before feeling so good your own hips rock up to meet his thrust.

“You’re so tight,” his hair has come loose from the ponytail he keeps it in, thick strands tickling your collarbone where they drop, his shoulder muscles taunt with pent up energy as he begins a steady pace inside of you, letting your slick glide him into your narrow hole. His eyes flicking up and drinking in the almost drunk expression on your pretty face, adoring how you both seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

“G-Giyuu,” your panting little moans are speeding up with his thrusts, the room becoming sweltering as your bodies collide, his groin coming flush against your ass with each loud smack of his balls. His hand tangles in the blanket below, gripping the fabric as he concentrates on not filling you up carelessly. His free hand moves up your hip where he’d been holding you, brushing over your sensitive nipples teasingly before gently wrapping around your throat.

One of your hands wrap around his wrist, cautious and curious of why he was holding you like this, but not fighting when he lightly squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Oh,” you moan, voice a little hoarse and softer than usual as you feel your head go light and airy while the intense pleasure inside of you spikes. His cock spearing and bullying your insides as he groans, your pussy only becoming tighter as he restricts your blood flow lightly, watching your fucked out face in fascination. His own isn’t any better but you’re not paying attention, only caring about the bubble expanding inside your belly again, his cock threatening to pop it at any second, his lower half soaked in your slick as it slides down your ass and onto the futon.

“Are you going to cum for me?” His expression is nearly pained as he restraints himself, smirking as you senselessly babble something incoherent but your nails scrape sharply over his skin and help clear his mind. He shifts even closer, forcing himself to hunch over you while he releases your throat and grips under your knees.

You cry out as he lifts your legs up, pressing your knees almost to your collarbone while he drills your cunt, his feet digging into the futon below as he has you in a mating press. His nose nearly brushes yours, so close but far as he grunts and slams into you, the new angle increasing the tightness, your walls milking him while he fucks you stupid.

“Fuck—m’gonna cum, Giyuu!” Your eyes roll back, insides clamping down and seizing around him while you gush, cream forming around the base of his cock while he pants, teeth grit while he focuses on drawing out your release as long as he can. “N-no more, please!” You nearly wail as his cock overstimulates you, still brushing against that spot inside that has you seeing white.

He takes mercy this time, pulling out so quickly your hole is left gaping for a moment as he sits back and grips his cock and works himself fiercely over you, grunting and biting down on his lip while his balls draw up tight and he shoots ropes of hot cum over your dripping pussy and lower belly. Using his tip to smear it over your swollen lips as he groans.

You watch quietly, body still thrumming with euphoria from your orgasm as Giyuu finishes too, looking ruined as he finishes on you before nearly collapsing too.

He lets himself fall to his side, one arm reaching out and dragging you against him despite both your sweaty figures. He holds you tightly while you both calm, your heartbeat slowing as exhaustion takes hold and your eyes droop.

As a Hashira, he’s quick to recover, and while he could certainly stand to take you two or three more times, he instead relishes in the feel of holding you against him so intimately.

You’re asleep in minutes, breathing even as you doze against his chest.

He closes his eyes, letting his forehead drop against the crown of your head, whispering quietly what you fell asleep too quickly to hear.

“I love you too…” he’ll say it again when you wake.

“Thank you,” Kyojuro looks up from the training dummy he’d just destroyed, gaze landing with surprise on the water Hashira standing awkwardly before him, not looking at him.

Giyuu stood with his arms crossed staring off into the distance, reminding Kyojuro of an old man with the sort of serene gaze only the elderly possessed.

“Ah! You’re welcome haha! You took my advice?” His bright eyes widened, quite shocked in truth.

Giyuu merely nodded, turning to walk away having said his gratitude now.

Kyojuro didn’t stop him, still amazed his half-assed terrible advice had actually worked. Unlike his younger brother who was quite beloved and well known by the corps, Kyojuro could care less about Giyuu’s emotional constipation.

He’d told him to stop being a coward and act like a man.

You never did find out that Giyuu’s “night crawling” act was in fact just his strange way of coming to tell you his feelings before he could talk himself out of it and lose you to another.

Your kiss just initiated what he’d been holding back. ♡

Giyuu’s face whenever he sees that other slayer who tried to ask you out.

Post dividers/ @saradika

#Yan loves Desi #see what I did there?#request filled #Giyuu Tomioka #Giyuu Tomioka smut #Yobai Giyuu #Kny Giyuu smut #Giyuu smut #kny Giyuu Tomioka x reader #Giyuu Tomioka x reader smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny x reader smut #Yan is sick of fucking tagging already #kny x kakushi reader

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daffi-990 · 7 months

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✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

So instead of working on the WIPs I already have, my brain decided to think up a new one 😅

Current working title is LA Lonely and here is a mood board and a rough little summary:

Buck meets Eddie and they hook up. Buck feels an instant connection but doesn’t pursue it because he’s only good for one night, no one wants him for keeps. Cue him running into Eddie almost everywhere he goes, like the universe keeps putting Eddie in his path. And Eddie is kind and never makes their interactions feel awkward and the way he smiles at Buck has something warm fluttering to life inside him. Eddie eventually asks him out on a proper date and Buck is so confused because no one wants him for more than a fun time. They don’t want to keep him.

(snippet under the cut)

“Buck!”

Buck turns towards the voice calling his name to find none other than Christopher from the class field trip at the station last week walking towards him, red crutches click clacking against the floor.

“Hey Chris! What brings you here? Another school field trip?”

Chris scrunches his face up, looking at Buck like he’s grown a second head.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Right. I knew that, I was just checking to see if you did.” Buck says as he points his finger at Chris causing the boy to giggle.

Buck scoots over on the bench making room for Chris to sit down beside him.

“Are your mum or dad with you?” Buck asks as he scans the room behind them for a frantic parent.

“My mum’s dead.”

Oh. Well. Buck has no idea what to do with that.

“Uh, I’m sorry buddy, that’s uh- that’s rough.” He looks around the room again. “What about your Da-“

“Christopher!”

Buck’s head whips around to find a man striding towards them. As he draws closer, Buck's eyes widen in recognition and disbelief because shit, Buck knows him - has seen him naked, felt his body pressed against his own as the guy shoved his cock so deep inside Buck he swore he could feel it in his throat. The memory of their encounter is still fresh in Buck’s mind a week later because it was that good.

“Dad!” Chris says happily, smiling bright and big and holy fuck his hot hookup who gave him one of the best orgasms of his fucking life has a kid.

And is standing right in from on him.

Buck scrambles to his feet, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he smiles nervously at Eddie. “Uh hi.”

Eddie looks shocked to see him but it quickly melts away, his eyes softening. “Buck, hey.” His mouth quirks up in a small smile and Buck remembers exactly why he brought Eddie home last weekend. He’s so fucking pretty

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @shortsighted-owl @steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @tizniz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @mellaithwen and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag ❤️

#daffi writes #wip: la lonely #working title inspired by a song of the same name -> LA Lonely by Fly By Midnight #buddie wip #buddie #I’m trying something different and am aiming to keep this cute feel goody and hopefully short 😅#haven’t written much for this #just what’s here and one other little bit #still tip tap typing away at Rivals and Fantasy AU and the Eddie breakdown fic

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samreich · 1 year

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✨ inspiration is everywhere ✨

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captainfern · 1 year

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Hi!! I really love your work, your mind and your writing is just so amazing!

I wanted to send a humbler request (if you don’t give or want to do it then pls ignore this~)

Request I had is that Gaz or Price guide a inexperienced reader through a bj/oral felatio? Or if you want to a twist where reader guides the cod men through the process on the reader themselves.

Once again, your work is amazing and you have a wonderful way with words ✨

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Release

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

[“Release” by Timbaland]

[18+]

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• summary - read the request. you make gaz whimper btw lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.9k • warnings - fem!reader, oral [m!receiving and f!receiving], hella praise, gaz do be whimpering, strong language

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inspired by the concerning amount of whimper audios gracing my tiktok fyp rn

also "oral fellatio" is the fanciest name i've ever heard someone call head lmao

no soft launch for this shit. i'm too horny for this man to fuck around. i just wanna find out

"F-fuck, easy, baby, easy—" Gaz moaned, his hand on the back of your head as he guided your mouth further down his cock. "S'all right, baby, take it easy."

He was responding to you gagging around him as his tip nudged the back of your throat. You had immediately pulled back, and he began petting the back of your head as you wrapped your lips around his tip.

You calmed your breathing, dragging your lips back down his length, saliva pooling out of your mouth and rolling in droplets along a couple of prominent veins.

"There you go... there you go, good girl, baby, doing so good," Gaz breathed, eyes on you, eyelids fluttering. "S-so good, sweetheart. Taking my cock so good."

You looked up at him and made eye contact. No doubt you looked a mess, but he was clearly enjoying himself. You were kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your shared bed, and he was guiding you through head like the best teacher you'd ever had.

"Mmm... wrap your hand around the base, sweetheart," Gaz breathed as your free hands were planted on his thighs. "Come on... ah— g-good, yeah, j-just like that, fuck—"

You took one hand and wrapped it around the base of his cock, collecting a good amount of saliva beneath your palm. You squeezed him gently, but tight enough to make his sentence stutter and his hips buck up into your mouth.

"Mmmyeah, baby, just like that," He whimpered, head tossed back momentarily as he let out a breathy moan. "Just like that."

You slowly moved your hand up and down, maintaining pressure, as you took more of his cock into your mouth. You tried to take more, but when the tip rammed the back of your throat, you gagged. Gaz clearly didn't mind— he groaned, twitching in your mouth each time you did so.

The sounds were obscene, too. Wet and slick and loud. Sucking and slurping, making your stomach coil tight with pleasure. Gaz's noises were loud, too— whimpering and whining, incoherent sentences stringing together in pleasure as you sucked his cock.

He was offering you so much praise it was making your face grow hot.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart. Making me feel so good... taking my cock so well," Gaz praised, watching you. He still had a hand to the back of your head, gently guiding you further onto him. "Such a good listener, too. So perfect, baby, fucking hell—"

You forced him further into your mouth, tears forming in your eyes as his cock slid down your throat. Your lips pressed to your fist, still gripping his base gently, nose brushing the patch of hair before you pulled yourself back up and repeated the action.

Gaz moaned loudly, panting through a jumble of whines and whimpers. He watched you take more of him, saliva dripping everywhere, wet sounds amplifying. He bucked his hips each time you took him as far as you could go— the vibrations of your light gags making him chew harder on his bottom lip.

Your tongue was heavy and warm on the underside of his cock, and the sensations made his mouth drop open while he watched you with a hand to the back of your head. He was breathing hard— each breath he took mixed with a soft, pleasure-high whimper.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby. My g-good girl— mmm... ah, fuck, baby— y-yeah, fuck, my good girl. All mine." Gaz whimpered softly, making your core ache.

All mine, huh?

You resisted the urge to smile around his cock as you hollowed you cheeks further, more slurping noises eliciting from the sides of your saliva-streaked mouth.

He was twitching in your mouth, and you could practically taste the sudden flood of pre-cum that dripped down the back of your throat. You whined around his cock, the movements of his hips becoming more urgent as he neared his peak.

"Ah... ah... mmmfuck— f-fuck, m'gonna cum, sweetheart," Gaz panted heavily, small whines following. "Gonna cum in— mmm-my god, ah— m'gonna cum in your mouth, sweetheart, you need—"

You knew what he was trying to say through the whimpers and whines and stutters. He wanted you to pull off of his cock so he didn't have to shoot his load into your mouth.

No way.

You hummed stubbornly, teary eyes finding his as you sucked around his tip, before taking him a bit further into your mouth while you pumped the base with your hand. He was almost crying now, pleasure building so harshly inside of him that he thought he might snap.

"Yeah? You wanna swallow?" Gaz asked you between quiet moans, and you tried your best to nod, mouth still stuffed with his cock. You hummed for emphasis, too, making his breath hitch.

"Okay, sweetheart, okay, f-fuck yeah, okay," He babbled, tip slamming against the back of your throat as he held your head steady, fucking his cock into your mouth as he chased his high. "M'gonna— ohmygod, ah— m'gonna—"

He never did finish his sentence.

Gaz cut himself off with a whimpered moan of your name, so pretty falling from his lips. His eyes rolled as he came in your mouth, hand holding your head steady. You choked slightly, shoots dripping down your throat, with some being squeezed out the corners of your mouth where his cock stretched you open.

You carefully pulled off of him, his seed dripping down your chin. You stroked his softening cock gently, making it jerk, still slick with cum and saliva. Gaz released a shaky breath, followed by a whine as he looked down at you with a watery gaze.

"Good girl, baby," he muttered tiredly as you got to your feet and crawled into is lap, straddling him. "Such a good girl for me."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he watched you as you swallowed and then stuck your tongue out at him. He smiled slyly, leaning forward to press his tongue to yours. You let out a high-pitched sound of amusement from the back of your throat, before you kissed him. His hands found the small of your back, pressing you closer.

You kissed for a while, sloppy and wet and the noisiest you've probably ever kissed. Every so often, he'd pause the movements of his lips to let his mouth hang agape, panting and whimpering into your mouth as you kissed him. Your hands explored the rigid muscles along his upper back and shoulders, your hips grinding down onto him, his cock growing hard again.

You pulled out of the kiss, a thick string of saliva connected the both of your tongues. It broke when you smiled and laughed.

Gaz nudged his nose against yours, trying to chase the kiss, but you leaned back, vulpine smile on your lips.

"Mm... Gaz?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He was still trying to kiss you.

You giggled, turning your head away. He took the opportunity to latch his mouth to the junction of your jaw, sucking the soft skin. He peppered kisses down your neck as you spoke again.

"Want you to return the favour." You said jokingly, and you felt him smile against your neck.

"Gladly." He said, and proceeded to stand up with you in his arms. You withheld a squeal of surprise as he spun the both of you around and dumped you on the bed. You bounced as he clambered after you, dragging you by the ankles closer to him, so he could wiggle your soaked underwear away from your core.

He exhaled a breath as he flung your underwear away, eyes locked to your glistening core.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked," he commented, almost breathless, leaning forward and swiping a finger up your slit. "You... you got this worked up from sucking my cock?"

The question sounded as though he was genuinely surprised.

You bit your lip, smiling down at him. "Mhm."

"Jesus... fuck."

"Love the sounds you make," you whisper at him, watching as he laid on his stomach and settled himself between your legs. "You sound so pretty, Gaz."

He groaned, leaning his head against your thigh. "Fucking Christ, sweetheart, you can't be saying that to me."

"Why not?"

"I'll... fuck sakes... I'll come in my bloody bedsheets, honestly."

You giggled, wiggling your hips as an invitation. He got the hint, and pressed forward, his warm breath fanning across your dripping cunt. You moaned at the heat alone, hips inclining further towards his mouth.

Gaz moved his mouth away from you, ever so slightly. "Tell me how you want it."

You moaned loudly. "Gaz—"

"Tell me," he whispered. "You want my fingers first, baby? Or d'you just want my mouth?"

"Mouth, fuck, please—" You keened desperately, and he gave in with a chuckle.

He delicately kissed from your sopping cunt, up your folds, until he reached your clit, which he drew into his mouth. He made you sob out as he released it with a slick pop, before he was dragging his tongue back down your folds.

You instantly reached down to place a hand near the crown of his head. As his tongue circled your fluttering cunt, you pushed his head further into you, your bucking hips meeting the movement halfway. He moaned as you pushed him into you, his tongue making contact with your wet hole, his nose pressed taut to your clit. Your entire body shivered, a whine leaving your lips.

"No teasing, Gaz," you groaned as his tongue stilled inside you. "Faster."

He hummed a deep laugh against your core before he picked up his movements once more. His tongue firm inside you, making you squirm against the bedsheets, holding his face deeper to you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, back arching as you sobbed. Pleasure was quickly building inside of you.

"Just like that, Gaz, please—" you begged. "Feel's so good."

If Gaz had a tail, it would be wagging.

He grunted softly into your core, fucking his tongue as deep as it could go while he gripped your thighs, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers. You were so needy, so fucking wet that the entire lower half of his face was slick with your arousal. But he wasn't complaining— not when you urged his face closer and closer into you until his nose was pressing hard against your puffy clit.

You moaned again. The sounds Gaz eliciting from you were heavenly, a complete juxtaposition from the pornographic sucking and licking filling the quiet room.

"So good, Gaz, feel's so good. Gonna cum..." you drawled, voice airy.

Gaz hummed again, ensuring his tongue was deep inside you so that the vibrations stimulated your core. It worked by the way your thighs clamped tighter around his head. Gaz's cock jumped at that.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," you whined, legs trembling around Gaz's head. "Mm-fuck— such a good boy, Gaz, fuck— feels so fucking good—"

Gaz moaned into your cunt, really fucking loudly, as you came. The sound rung in your ears as your back arched and you came into his mouth, his tongue still stuffed inside you. His hands tightened around your thighs, keeping your legs still, as he fucked you through your orgasm, grunting and whimpering into your core.

After a moment, and once your body trembles had subsided, Gaz pulled away. Your face immediately grew hot as you caught sight of his face— the lower half completely drenched, glistening.

Gaz licked his lips.

You laughed. "Good?"

"You have no bloody idea."

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#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz smut #cod smut #gaz mw2 #gaz x female reader #gaz x reader #cod mw2 #captain'stimbaland

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diorods · 3 months

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Minecraft Small Oak House! A nice a survival house made out of easy blocks to get!

I wanted to make a house with mainly oak blocks, cause I feel like that's a block that I always find (almost) everywhere, so why not, right? Once again I made the whole interior of the build, it's quite cozy. Anyway, this was the result! I also really like the gif to show of the interior ahah anyway! I hope this serves as inspiration 🙌 If u want u can find the download here!

✨ Shaders: Complementary Shaders 🕹 Game version: 1.20.1 🌹 Resource Packs: Jerm's Better Leaves

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft building #minecraft ideas #minecraft aesthetic #minecraft build #minecraft inspiration #minecrafters #minecraft house #minecraft interior #minecraft survival #minecraft server #minecraft smp #minecraft inspo #minecraft keep #minecraft stone #minecraft fort

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look-at-the-soul · 5 months

Note

Hola, Mar! ❤️❤️.

I'm here to sending you a request. Tommy telling his kids (it can be both of them, or just Charlie or just Ruby) a story about his mother. We know he didn't have good memories about her especially because what happened, but maybe, he remembered something maybe a bedtime story (or a recipe, music, etc) and he tells them about her. The kids didn't know her, but after that moment maybe they can imagine how their grandma was ❤️.

My dear Flor @justrainandcoffee thank you so much for sending this request!!!! I knew I had to make it extra special since it’s part of my Grandma’s series 👵🏻♥️✨ so I didn’t want to rush it. This made me go back in time to our endless sleepovers, it made me think of her. I hope you enjoy this 💕

Special thanks to @blondie-22 for creating the BEAUTIFUL moodboard, like always you capture the exact essence of the story 🥰

Edit: A/N part of this story is inspired by a song called Toy Soldier by Martika

Word count 1,172

Toy Soldier

The bedroom door cracked louder than Tommy expected, he cursed himself internally because it was late and the house was quiet, the last thing he needed was to wake up his wife.

But she was already up and leaned against the window, the shadow of her frame only visible under the moonlight. Frowning, he stopped taking off his suit jacket midway when he noticed something was under the blankets of his bed.

“Why are you up?” He whispered.

“Charlie’s having trouble with bedtime.” She replied back. “He thinks there’s a monster under his bed.” She then added but also gave him a warning look so he better wouldn’t laugh it off.

“There’s no such thing.”

“They wanted to sleep here for reassurance.” Y/N placed her hands on his chest to lean in for a quick kiss. “He was so scared last night.”

“Daddy?” Ruby’s small voice broke the silence of the room.

Charlie stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

“Go back to sleep.” Tommy urged them.

“There’s a monster under my bed, I heard noises.” Charlie assured him.

Sitting next to his son, Tommy caressed his blonde hair in a loving way.

“I can assure you there’s no monster under your bed, son.” Tommy explained in a calmed tone.

“But I heard…”

Tommy shook his head gently, knowing it was a good time to share a fond memory that suddenly hit him hard. After being pushed back to the farthest place of his mind for years…

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” Tommy assured his boy, then turning to face Y/N he invited her over the bed, “you want to hear what really is?”

“I do Daddy.” Ruby replied while Charlie nodded.

“It’s the toy soldier.” Tommy assured his kids. Then clearing his throat he continued. “All toys come up to life around three in the morning, when the house is quiet and you and your sister are sleeping, they start playing by themselves. But when you wake up, they stop because you must not see them.”

His voice and the fabulous tale he was narrating had both his children and Y/N captivated.

“But how do you know?” Charlie asked trying to understand.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, taking his time to explain it properly.

“Well, that’s ‘cause when I was about your age, I heard noises in my room too.”

Y/N noticed the emotions shining in his eyes and his voice.

“And you had toys like mine?” Charlie asked but Tommy shook his head.

“No, I had a horse made of wood, uncle Charlie made it for me.”

Ruby was in awe. “Like a real horse?”

“Yes but a small one, I carried it everywhere.” He relaxed against the pillows, Y/N knew his childhood wasn’t easy, he was forced to mature earlier than other kids.

“So one night I was terrified and went to sleep with my Mum and she told me it was my toys playing.”

“And she told you how did she know?”

“No, she didn’t.”

And both kids went on to ask a million more questions about their grandma, a loving figure they never got the chance to meet. To Tommy this meant much more than he could put into words, he went on to describe her features, mannerisms and and few secrets, so his kids could feel her close to them in some way.

He didn’t know, but through them and their curiosity, he was healing a part of his broken heart by remembering the good moments, her legacy.

Y/N could see the way their imagination was running wild trying to put a face for such mysterious woman, trying to think of what was like to be on road forever stuck in a caravan as they said, asking how she could ride bareback a horse without falling.

Tommy rarely talked about his mother, it had always been something that was buried deep inside his heart, a very sensitive topic, Y/N knew how much it had hurt him to lose her at such young age. Not having her when he needed her the most definitely left a permanent scar in his heart. Y/N wondered how different would Tommy be under another circumstances.

And by the way he described his mother, Y/N realized he looked so much like her instead of his father, which given the circumstances, was a blessing. Although, thanks to Polly who took the role as a mother figure for the Shelby siblings, they had managed much better than if Arthur Sr. was in charge.

“Why can’t we play with them?” Asked Ruby with a deep frown.

“Because after playing with you all day, they get to work by playing, the soldier gotta watch out the fort right?” He stared at Charlie. “And your doll has to drink some more tea, ey.”

Then, a gentle smile played on his lips.

“So you gotta go to sleep to let them play, so they can enjoy their own time.”

“That’s why I heard noises.” Charlie seemed to think about it for a second.

“Yeah.” Tommy winked at them.

“But my teddy stays with me all night.” Ruby stated.

“Hmm he’s gotta take care of you.”

“Can we stay here? So they can play?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled.

Y/N nodded feeling touched by the way Tommy managed to help Charlie leave his fears behind. Loving the way his innocent mind was processing everything.

“Of course, now just let’s all squeeze in together.”Tommy proposed. Feeling Y/N’s hand touching his hand, he looked up at her.

Soon both kids were fast asleep. The story about their toys playing and making noises was the explanation they needed to hear, to feel Tommy’s reassurance.

Y/N observed her husband taking off his clothes, hiding the gun in a drawer and coming back to bed. Thinking how of course not everything is as it should be, and the kids would realize of the truth one day…but she was more than happy to enjoy that little moment in their own little bubble while it lasted.

“That was beautiful.”

He nodded in agreement. He rarely allowed himself to have moments like these, but he felt the need to open his heart with his own happy memory with his mother, gone too soon. She had missed a lot of important events in his life that he was determined to try to be there for his children.

And at least, he could honor her memory by sharing some stories like the one where the toys start playing after midnight.

Turning off the lights of their bedside tables, Tommy drifted to sleep right away and saw the image of his mother wrapping her arms around a younger version of himself protectively, answering all the questions he had about how could his horse toy could not move during the day, or how would drink water if the river was so far away… and he saw her in his dreams smiling adoringly at him before kissing the top of his head.

Grandma series

Tommy Master list

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lathalea · 5 months

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Entangled 2/10

The first question I'd like to ask you today is: Do you remember a little fic called The Best Day of My Life I wrote a while back? Don't worry, me neither ;) It simmered in my head and what started off as a standalone ficlet, grew into something bigger. Back then, it was written in the first-person narrative, but as it grew into a longer story in my head, I decided to change the subsequent chapters to the third-person perspective. This story was born from an inspiration I found when researching certain medieval traditions, especially when it comes to arranged marriages in royal families, and the role women played in these arrangements. It inspired me to wonder what it would look like in Dwarven societies of Middle Earth. I hope you enjoy it! Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea). Special thanks for @legolasbadass for all your help and support 💙 ✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

Khuzdul: Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd - King and Queen Under the Mountain

TA 2942, one year after the Reclamation of Azsâlul'abad

“Your Majesty, My Lady, brothers and sisters in stone, we have all eagerly waited for this moment,” The High Priest’s sonorous voice rang out in the festively decorated Great Hall of the Lonely Mountain. “May the Pleating Ceremony commence!”

It was happening.

Mista swallowed. It felt as if the eyes of every single person present in the cavern were on her. As instructed earlier, Mista took off the veil that had covered her hair which was unbraided and adorned only with minuscule diamonds, and stepped stiffly towards the King. Her hands were clammy, and she tried not to stumble. The slippers and the opulent ceremonial gown she wore were incredibly uncomfortable and heavy. What a blunder it would be if she landed on the floor face down at that very moment! The court etiquette did not forbid her to wear her glasses, so at least she could see her surroundings clearly… including the crowds that gathered for the ceremony in the Great Hall.

Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, then something brushed against her temple. Mista flinched like a startled pony.

“No need to be alarmed, My Lady.” A low, rumbling murmur reached her ears. It was the King’s voice; she could have recognized his calm, confident manner everywhere. “Allow me to choose a suitable lock of your hair.” “By all means, Your Majesty,” Mista mumbled, feeling how close he stood to her, his arm brushing against hers, and how his fingers slowly ran through her hair. She did not know that a male touch could be so gentle. The only people allowed to touch her hair before this day were her mother, sister, and personal maid.

“Thank you, My Lady. Would you allow me to compliment you?” the King said and, not waiting for her reply, he added. “I do not think I have seen such exquisite hair before.”

“I… thank you, Your Majesty,” she whispered, attempting to calm herself. Did the King himself truly think her hair was exquisite? A realisation dawned upon her. Of course not; he must have referred to its uncommon length, that was all. It was the only source of Mista’s pride — perhaps the colour of her hair was plain and common, but she had always kept it long, and currently it reached almost to her knees. And now, the King’s nimble fingers ran through it, once, twice, and then began pleating her hair slowly, each of his movements deliberate. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation, but even then, she did not dare to open her eyes especially when the tips of his fingers lightly brushed against her cheek, making her tremble at the sensation.

“It may help you to imagine that there is only you and me here.” His quiet voice reached her again.

“Pardon?” Mista’s breath hitched.

“During straining official functions I tend to imagine that there are only stone statues around me, carved in amusing poses. It helps to tackle the nerves.”

Mista’s eyes fluttered open and met the King’s azure gaze. An encouraging smile danced on his lips moments before he returned to braiding.

“I did not know someone like you could feel… nervous, Your Majesty,” she heard herself say.

“My coronation felt ten times worse than facing the enemy during the Battle of the Five Armies.” His reply made Mista chuckle. His smile widened, making his handsome face even more alluring. For a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe, simply staring at him.

Click.

The King clasped his bead around her new braid. Gold encrusted with onyx contrasted with the plainness of her mousy hair, but the pattern made it somehow more refined. She took the braid into her hand and admired its even, elegant weaves.

“It is beautiful, Your Majesty,” she whispered.

The King gave her a thankful nod. Mista felt his intent gaze on her. His Durin’s apple bobbed. Something was not right… Why were his features so tense?

It took her a moment to understand. With her cheeks burning, she took a step towards him. How could she have forgotten that now it was her turn?

“May I…?” Her voice failed her, but no words were necessary. The King lowered his head towards her, his hair flowing freely in front of her eyes.

With trembling fingers, she picked a thick lock of hair on his left temple and divided it into four parts. His hair was smooth and thick, making her think of a wolf’s fur, but it smelled like sweet oils from faraway lands in the South. Mista wanted to keep on braiding it for as long as she could. She thanked Mahal that she knew her personal pattern by heart — otherwise, she would have surely entangled his hair or ended up with a bunch of knots instead of the braid. Focused on plaiting it, she forgot about everything around her — there was only the King, Thorin, the Dwarf who unknowingly captured her heart a long time ago. Now, with every weave, she was willingly bestowing her whole self upon him.

Her bead was made of bronze and tiny sapphires from the Blue Mountains. For some reason, it refused to close around the King’s braid, making Mista sigh, but then one of his large, warm hands encircled her fingers that held the bead, and pressed it harder together.

Click.

It was done.

Mista’s heart beat faster and faster as the King Under the Mountain took her hands into his. They were facing each other in a way that allowed everyone gathered in the Great Hall to see them from the side.

“Foreheads,” the High Priest whispered, barely moving his lips, holding something in his hands that glinted in the light of hundreds of lanterns.

The King squeezed her hands gently and lowered himself towards her once more. Mista took a deep breath and stood on her tiptoes so that their foreheads could meet.

His skin was pleasantly warm against hers, his nose brushed against hers, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, but the last thing she saw were his lips, slightly parted, and so close, so very close to hers, and there was his beard too, and she wondered how it would feel if…

“What Mahal has joined over the marriage anvil, no power shall break apart until the end of days,” the High Priest exclaimed, his voice loud and clear, like the sound of a gunmetal bell, drowning all of her inappropriate thoughts.

“Thorin, son of Thrain, Mista, daughter of Milva, you are now husband and wife. Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd!”

Loud cheers filled the spacious cavern as the white-bearded priest bound their hands together with a thin but unbreakable mithril chain — a symbol of the eternal bond they forged a moment ago. This was one of the most revered traditions of Mahal’s Children: Dwarves married only once. Mista read a treaty once that explained the origin of this ancient tradition: one of the oldest Dwarven legends said that each of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves had one spouse, and that each couple was made from one piece of stone, destined to be always together, as one mind, body, and heart. A long time had passed since Mista was an overly romantic lass who believed that each Dwarf had their beloved Other Half somewhere in the world. Now she was over one hundred and thirty years old, and during her lifetime, she saw too many dalliances, clandestine affairs, and broken promises to believe that her people were capable of loving only once and only the right person. Dwarves were a fiery race, with molten lava running in their veins rather than cold pieces of rock. Nevertheless, their marriages were the cornerstones of society, crucially important to every family, and so a wedded couple was supposed to be like a rock: steady and unbreakable. That was Mahal’s will, as the priests said. Therefore, the dissolution of marriage was impossible. If a Dwarf broke their marital vows — which, as dishonourable as it was, happened from time to time — they would still remain married to their spouse. Even death did not end it, as her people believed that they would remain married even in the afterlife, in the Halls of Awaiting. That was why Dwarven courtship would often last many years so that the future spouses had ample time to know each other well before they made this irreversible decision.

Mista’s courtship lasted one month. That was how much time Lord Tair, her father, needed to finalise negotiations with the King Under the Mountain. During that time, she never saw her future husband. That was to be expected — the Blue Mountains were almost half a world away from King Thorin II’s kingdom, Azsâlul'abad. Instead, his envoys arrived with the marriage contract signed in his own hand and a chest filled with customary gifts for his future bride: jewellery, hair combs, and a traditional courtship cloak. There was also a letter addressed to her. It contained all the obligatory niceties along with His Majesty’s apology for his absence due to the fact that his kingdom was being rebuilt and needed all of his attention at the moment. He assured his bride, however, that he was looking forward to meeting her in person and offering her as much hospitality as he had received in Tumunzahar years ago.

He remembered.

Over one hundred years had passed, and he still remembered his visit to her home city. Precisely like Mista. She never forgot how gallant and handsome he was, how his words dried her tears, and how he made her feel as if she, the ugliest girl at the feast, were the only woman in the whole world.

Perhaps that mawkish idea of Dwarves finding their Other Halves was not true, but she was certain of one thing: she still loved the same Dwarf as she did all those years ago. Her heart belonged to Thorin Oakenshield.

And now she was his wife. Her eyes were still set on the glistening links of the mithril chain that joined her hands when she heard the High Priest’s words.

“My King, My Queen.” He bowed with reverence, “It is time for your wedding feast.”

The only thing she could think of at that very moment was how good her hand felt in her lord husband’s reassuring hold.

***

The feast that celebrated their nuptials was an event like no other. Mista had never seen any revelries that were full of equal splendour. Countless guests from all seven dwarven realms were entertained by minstrels, musicians, dancers, and other performers. The food was delicious; wine and other liquors flowed endlessly, like the River Running, and everyone was merry. Mista sat on a grand chair placed on the King’s right hand. Now, both of them wore their crowns and royal insignia, and together, as the newlywed ruling couple of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, they accepted countless toasts and congratulations from the well-wishers throughout the evening. Mista tried her best to act with decorum worthy of the queen she had become hours ago, and she even managed to appear unflustered whenever the customary “May Mahal bless your union with countless heirs!” reached her ears.

From time to time she managed to steal a glance at the King’s – her new husband’s – majestic profile, struggling to believe that this day was not a dream. But then she remembered the marriage braid hanging at her temple – and a similar braid in his hair. She truly was the great Thorin Oakenshield’s wife.

It was two bells after midnight when the weariness started to creep up on her.

“Is the feast to your liking, lady Mista?” the King turned to her, clearly noticing her attempt at stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it is! Forgive me, the celebrations took a toll on me, I’m afraid,” she explained, feeling the growing heaviness of her crown on her temples.

“It is perfectly understandable,” Princess Dis, the King’s sister, said. “It has been a long day. Perhaps it is time for you to repose.”

“May I…? Does the protocol allow it?” Mista took a hopeful look around the Great Hall where the feast was as lively as it was at its very beginning.

“May I remind you that now you are the Queen?” the King offered. “You may leave whenever you wish to do so.”

“And my brother will accompany you,” Princess Dis interjected, and then addressed the King. “Tonight you are only allowed to leave together.”

Mista caught a strange look they exchanged, and – after a noticeable pause – King Thorin said, “Very well.”

“Shall we, then?” He rose from his chair and held out his hand to Mista.

Leaving the Great Hall was not as easy a task as Mista expected. They had to endure another round of the official farewells, wedding toasts and felicitations from their numerous guests.

“Have a wonderful night!” Princess Dis exclaimed in a sing-song voice as they were stepping over the threshold.

“Aye, and a long one, too!” Dwalin, the King’s Captain, added, and they both laughed.

Their words sounded innocently enough for Mista at first, but they made the King clear his throat in visible embarrassment.

And then it dawned on Mista. One more thing awaited her.

The wedding night.

✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ... ✨ Masterlist 💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

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