#i will be writing a oneshot inspired by this btw

[am-i-jojo]

Set shortly after MAG92.

With a burned hand and an healing cut on his throat, John is in no condition to take care of himself. Tim finds him on the verge of tears in his office, after a failed attempt at tying his hair that resulted in the reopening of his wounds. So, for reasons outside Tim’s understanding, he impulsively decides to take him home, help him wash up and finally do his hair in a simple braid.

[domoz]

Founders have me writing like crazy it seems. Another fic, cw for child abuse in this one. It gets nasty.

It's a beautiful spring evening when Hashirama decides that he needs to kill his father.

When his legs give out for the fifth time, Hashirama isn't able to force himself up again.

To say chichiue had been unhappy with what had happened at the Naka River would be an understatement. Hashirama had kept his head bowed through a long, long lecture, insisted over and over that he hadn't known because ignorance might be the only thing that could save him.

Punishment has been brutal, regardless. He's been taking his smaller than usual meals alone in his room, and even those have been more sparse than usual, because every waking has been consumed with ceaseless training.

"When you see that boy on the battlefield, you'll kill him."

Hashirama shudders and turns his face into the dirt. He won't, and that will probably end up worse for him than this, but that still isn't enough to make him willing to do it.

(Madara was like him. Madara wanted peace. Peace could mean that no one would be forced to do something like this ever again).

For the moment, though, Hashirama can't get his legs to cooperate. Today he'd been training his mokuton ('until you have enough wood to rebuild the whole compound twice over'), and he'd tried, he always tries, but he's never, not in his life, been this low on chakra before. The lack of it makes him feel dizzy and nauseous and cold, seems to amplify all the aches and pains of the last few days. He'd pulled a splinter out of his hand earlier and the spot has been aching and stinging for hours when normally he would have forgotten about it minutes after it happened.

He's exhausted and miserable, and his eyes are burning with unshed tears because letting them fall will mean he probably doesn’t even get to eat tonight. He's already going to be in trouble enough for falling again--

"Boy, you better not be taking a break." Butsuma's voice calls, far away as first but getting louder, "You're not even halfway done."

Hashirama's voice catches in his parched throat -- he's got no idea whether it'll be safer for him to admit the truth or make an excuse. Before he can decide, his brother's voice chimes in, and oh he hadn't even known Tobirama was here.

"Chichiue, he's low on chakra." It's said so matter-of-fact that Hashirama can't tell if he's being judged for it or not. But he's really not the happiest with Tobirama right now and in a poor mood anyways so all he feels at the comment Is a spike of anger harsh enough to send the tears he's been hold back spilling down his cheeks.

Why did you have to tell him that? Why do you keep ruining things?

Butsuma clicks his tongue.

"Shameful. But low chakra is not a reason for him to be on his back. Or crying."

Hashirama can only see the purpling sky, but he can hear the sneer in his father's voice.

"I just don't know what to do with you, boy. Maybe a real punishment is in order. To start with, no meals until you're done with this."

Hashirama stifles a sob. Fuck, but he's hungry. There's a heavy sigh from his father, but it's Tobirama's voice he hears next.

"Chichiue, is that… Wise?"

There is a heavy pause; Hashirama musters the strength to lift his head and is treated to a sight he wishes wasn't familiar. Tobirama's thin back is between him and Butsuma. His arms are crossed this time, but Hashirama knows his intent. His little brother trying to protect him, again.

This is your fault in the first place! A wounded part of his heart screams, but already he feels guilty for the thought.

(How was Tobirama to know who he'd been meeting? How was he to do anything but worry when his brother kept disappearing so soon after their last one had died? How was he to say no to an order?)

"It's just --" Tobirama's voice is uncharacteristically hesitant, "Harsh training is well and good, but if he's not able to recover his strength then he won't be able to act should an emergency happen. Right now, he'd be useless in a battle."

There is a weighty silence, one that stretches on long enough that it makes Hashirama's heart flutter with hope -- maybe Tobirama's words have managed to convince him, again.

"I have no intention of letting him go to battle until I'm sure he's learned his lesson." Another pause, and then "…You're more troublesome than you let on, boy."

Those words aren't meant for Hashirama. Tobirama stiffens just enough to be perceptible, and if Hashirama can see it in the state that he's in, there's no way that Butsuma missed it.

"That's what I thought. Tobirama, on your knees. I think you both need to understand something."

Tobirama hesitates for the barest moment before sinking down. He knows better than to protest in this situation. Hashirama struggles to roll over enough to see what is happening. To see how Butsuma has knelt down across from Tobirama to grab his chin in a bruising grip, how Tobirama's hands are fisted tight in the fabric of his pants.

"When I teach you that shinobi aren't to show emotions, what I mean is that they can't let their feelings affect their decisions." He forces Tobirama's face to turn, to meet Hashirama's wide eyes with his own, "But if you had taken that lesson to heart you would have seen how much better off your brother would be if he understood. You may hide what you feel, but I can see now how much you let those feelings rule you. You'd rather spare your brother pain than have him grow stronger and survive."

Butsuma reaches for a pouch and, and with his other hand he draws out a kunai. Tobirama doesn't struggle as it's pushed to his cheek, but instead goes very, very still. Hashirama's stomach swoops -- he wouldn't, he wouldn't--

"And you, Hashirama… I don't know what to do about that bleeding heart of yours. But you need to understand, if you're going to open yourself up to whatever poor kid with a sob story you meet in the woods you need to be strong enough to make certain that it can't hurt you."

He squeezes Tobirama's face, applies pressure. The kunai bites deep into his brother's cheek. Tobirama jerks in his hold and lets out an awful, warbled whine before cutting himself off.

"Stop." Begs Hashirama, voice breaking, He tries to push himself up only for his arms to give out from under him, "Stop it. Stop it!"

"If you want it to stop --" Says Butsuma, forcing Tobirama's face to turn the other direction and digging the kunai in to the other side, perfectly matching the first cut. "-- Then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me."

But Hashirama can't stand up. There's no sudden burst of strength -- he used that up ages ago. All he can manage is to drag himself a few inches forward through the dirt, fingers just able to reach where a spot of blood (his brother's blood!) has been flung to the ground.

"Please." His voice is hoarse, "Please, I understand. Please stop."

The look Butsuma levels at him is cold, a frown that says he doesn't believe him.

He tilts up Tobirama's head, cuts a final slash into his chin, before letting go. Standing up, stepping back, uncaring of the way his son has dropped to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.

"Guard your heart or grow strong enough to keep it safe, Hashirama. Those are your options."

He turns, leaves them alone on the training field under a rapidly darkening sky. It's only when he's out of sight that Hashirama feels sensation return to his limbs, feels just how hard his heart is pounding. Hears the near silent drip of blood onto the ground from Tobirama --

His breath hitches but he can't lose his head yet, his brother, his last baby brother, still hasn't moved.

"Tobi." He calls roughly, but there's still no reaction, "Tobi. Tobirama!"

When he finally pulls himself close enough, he reaches for his brother's hand, ignores the way it's trembling and sticky with blood (so much blood but it's fine, Tobirama has to be fine, head wounds just bleed more than most--). Only when he touches Tobirama does his brother react. Jerks away from him -- finally looks at him, but it's with eyes that are completely empty.

"We can't." Tobirama's voice is quiet. It cracks, but his little brother does not cry, even now, "He's waiting to see what we'll do."

Waiting to see if they'll turn to each other, he means.

"Tobi…" He calls, as Tobirama mechanically pushes himself to his feet, pulls his hand away. He wants to do something, needs to do something, to make this even a little okay, but he knows Tobirama is right, that if they try to help each other now the lesson will only repeat itself.

Tobirama shakes his head, walks towards the main house with his head ducked low, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

And Hashirama still can't force himself onto his feet to follow.

He falls back onto the dirt, throat tight. A few more tears spill out, but not many. He doesn't have anything left in him to cry.

He feels -- empty. He thinks he should be feeling more but all that's left behind his breastbone is hollow. And if he feels like this, than Tobirama must be…

He broke something, Hashirama thinks hysterically, He broke something in me and I think he might have broken Tobirama, too.

There's a bile building in the back of his throat as the realizations hit him. He can't let that happen again, won't survive if it does.

If you want to stop me, then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me.

That had been the lesson. Maybe Hashirama can finally learn this one.

The determination to build peace and a village had made him feel warm. The determination to do this settles like lead in his guts.

If any of his dreams are going to happen, he needs to get strong enough to stop his father.

[kamiversee]

I’ve been inspired y’all. Send me prompts NOW (please) I wanna write them in a oneshot.

(Saw this on tiktok btw)

[nicksolemnlyswears]

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

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

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 ❤️

[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)

[buckrecs]

i wanted to request hockey player!bucky au or like any kinda sport but preferably hockey or baseball because i’ve only read like 3 fics about that AU but im obsessed with it

Athlete!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

I didn’t put any boxer bucky fics btw ! thinking about making a list just for it..

ONESHOT

My Everyday by @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate.

Touchdown by @buckyseternal

you decide to reward your boyfriend after he scores the winning touchdown.

A Little Superstitious by @jadedvibes

The school's football team needs a win and a certain blue-eyed player could use a kiss for good luck to help make that happen.

hail mary by @barnesafterglow

when you start sneaking around with your brother's best friend, it's only a matter of time until you get caught

Don’t End Today by @subwaysurf45

The day that you happily upgraded you from tutor to girlfriend all because of a few nice words.

Flirting and Football by @lovelybarnes

Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

Anger Issues by @hailhydra920

You’re the only one who can calm Bucky down.

fair catch by @endless-summer-soldier

Y/N joins the football team to prove a point and the last thing Bucky expected out of the season was to fall for the new kicker

SERIES

For the Love of the Game by @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

No Such Thing by @sanguineterrain

You’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular running back. You don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? Turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: James Barnes is insufferable.

Out Of Bounds by @foreverindreamlandd

The chaos fic that was supposed to be a one shot inspired by me binge-watching Ted Lasso and now there’s a masterlist lmao. Enjoy the ride!

ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier

Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

Quarterback!Bucky x Assistant!Reader by @angrythingstarlight

ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier

Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

[kasagia]

in “a powerful man” how do you think coryo would take it if the reader told him that she’d forgive him completely only if she was allowed to have an affair with another man once too, since he had one with livia? love your fic btw ❤️

Thank you veeeeeery much, dear anonymous!!! I'm so glad you liked it!! 😊😊🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵

I think this is probably the first time someone has asked me a question about one of my oneshots, so let's make this a headcon. (Also, because I have neither the inspiration nor the time to write, maybe it will stimulate me somehow and I will feel more willing to write again. And maybe I got some inspiration too.) 🙈🙈

I'm talking about this 'version' of Coryo.

How do I think Coriolanus would react to you wanting to have a 'revenge affair' as a price for your forgiveness: (with smut?)

NO. A definite and categorical no. Coryo has no intention of sharing you, even for the shortest moment, with anyone else. You are his fiancée (not willingly, but still), and he will not allow the hands of some lesser man to stain what is his,

Does he want your complete forgiveness? A return to what once was between you? A carefree relationship where you trusted him and freely showed your devotion and deep feelings? He admits that it would be nice, but he doesn't want it at that price,

Coriolanus will have you anyway. It doesn't matter whether you let him or not. You are his new obsession—the future First Lady. And after being elected president, he knows that nothing can stop him. He has the most power. Over everything, including you.

Therefore no. He disagrees.

He is ready to break you, to force you into the woman of his dreams, to subject you to thousands of manipulations, than to allow any other man to get close to you. You have no right to betray him. Never. You are committed to him for the rest of your life, and he will do anything to make sure you know that.

He will even go as far as threatening your family and loved ones (especially your younger sister, for whom you have a soft spot). Therefore, you have no choice but to play wisely in Coriolanus' game, in which you have become a forced participant.

Let's imagine you make him this offer...

"Where does this sudden surge of tenderness come from, my petal? I'm not complaining, but usually when it comes from you, it also comes with a price to pay. What do you want from me this time?" He asks you after a particularly hot, passionate, and affectionate session in his bedroom, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, lazily drawing patterns on his chest with your finger. You shrug, pressing a kiss on his jaw. He hugs you tighter, dipping his head and burying his nose in your hair. You lie there in each other's arms for a moment. You wait for his heartbeat to slow down a little and for him to relax enough for you to ask him your question. "That was nice, right?" You ask innocently, continuing to caress his chest muscles with your feathery touch. "So much so that I'm afraid of what you'll ask me after this." He jokes and presses a kiss on your temple. "Wouldn't you rather have it all the time? My voluntary affection, passion, and desire? To be adored by me not only in front of the eyes of the Capitol?" You ask, placing small kisses on his neck. You distract him for a moment. He closes his eyes and bites his buttom lip, holding back a moan as you suddenly suck on his skin. You make sure to leave a hickey there as you lightly bite his skin. You pull away, then, so you can look into his eyes. "What do you want?" He asks curiously, his hand caressing your waist and every bit of skin he can get to despite you being wrapped in the covers. "Do you remember when you cheated on me with Livia?" "It wasn't cheating; I only did it because I had to. I felt no pleasure with her. No, as I feel each time we are together like this. But continue." He interrupts you, frowning disapprovingly. He didn't want to think of it as a betrayal. More like something... business. The thing he simply had to do for his career. You shiver, feeling sick just thinking about it. "I want the same." "You want to sleep with her?" He asks amusedly with a small chuckle, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between you for a moment after your words. "Not with her. With someone else. You know. Feel the thrill of something new and exciting. Besides, it would be a perfect proof of your devotion, don't you think? I would know that you were able to rise above your pride and that I could trust you again. That we are both equal. Enough to make me fall in love with you again. Didn't you promise me that? That you will do all in your power to make me love you again?" "Oh, and I will. But I'll kill all the men in Panem before I let anyone lay a finger on what's mine. And you, petal, belong to me. You will fall in love with me again. If not of your own will, then thanks to my... nudges in the right direction. It's up to you how painful they will be." "So you don't want my forgiveness?" You ask, furious, trying to match his scowl with yours. He squeezes you tighter, making you bite your lip, holding back a hiss of pain as his fingers dig painfully into your hips and buttocks. "Not necessarily. I want you. And I got you. All to myself. What difference does it make if I have to hold your throat or your hand while I am pushing into you?" With that question, he wraps his hand around your throat and presses his mouth aggressively against yours, allowing you no resistance. You moan as your tongues intertwine, and he hovers above you again, his length pressing alive and hard against your thigh again as he grinds against you, spreading his pre-cum on your skin.

Will he admit to jealousy? Of course not. He will keep telling you that you are his. That, as his property, you must obey him; otherwise, he will ruin your scientific career and take away the research you are working on.

Another excuse is that the Capitol thinks you are the perfect couple. What happens if someone finds out you're cheating on them? Coriolanus cannot let this happen. After all, the reputations of the two of you are the most important thing to him. He won't risk it in any way. And certainly not, so you can fuck another man.

And there would also be the problem of quietly disposing of your potential lover's corpse, because there's no way Coriolanus would let someone live who had tasted his First Lady's pussy.

Let's assume this does happen and you are having an affair…

Saints, help the one who dared to sleep with you behind Coriolanus' back.

There's no way he wouldn't find out about it.

You're so followed and watched over by his men and spies that it's a wonder you managed to sleep with anyone else and even keep it a secret from him for some time.

But when he finds out... it's an understatement to say he was furious. He was crazy. But if he had learned anything, it was how to plan revenge, how to strike, and when, so that his victim would never get up and regret ever going against him and becoming an obstacle.

Of course, your lover ends up dead after many weeks of being followed (to such an extent that he went crazy, feeling constant anxiety and eyes on the back of his neck), brutal interrogation by peackeepers, charges of high treason, and a public execution preceded by dosing him with various poisons and undergoing painful experiments. (Coriolanus even personally castrated him.)

But he's not just taking revenge on your lover. You get punished too.

The peacekeepers won't let you into the lab. Your parents and sister are forcibly sent to one of the districts for 'the holidays' without being able to contact you. Dr. Gaul can't talk to you either. You are confined to your house, unable to contact anyone who is not Coriolanus.

And he waits patiently until the loneliness and inability to do anything begin to affect you.

For the first few weeks, you struggle, trying to get out. You quickly realise that you don't have this option. His most trusted people and the Avox make sure you don't leave your room. And you start going crazy. You miss conversation, touch, and another person. You even miss Coryo.

Three months of your isolation has passed when he appears in your 'prison'.

He accepts with a huge smile that you throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness. You rip off his clothes before he can even respond to your pleas and pleasure him as best as you can, just to regain any semblance of freedom he once gave you.

You spend the whole night pleasing him, but he doesn't say a word, only moaning and grunting, even as you cry, begging him to say something, as you ride him like your life depends on it (which actually isn't far from the truth).

The next day, he is not in bed in the morning.

Instead, a crowd of make-up artists, designers, and maids come to prepare you for YOUR WEDDING.

You find out that he made people in the Capitol think that your family was spending one last vacation together before you got married. And he, being a good fiancé, let you go.

You're too busy thinking about finally being free from the confines of four walls of your room to even think about what a son of a bitch he is.

And after the wedding, when you go on your 'honeymoon' and he holds you on his lap in your compartment on the train, he mocks how little it took to break you and that you have to make up to him for 3 months without you, when he had to hold back and keep control over his desires so as not to come to you too soon.

When I kiss you and gently strip you of your wedding dress, you realise how far he can actually go to get what he wants.

You decide to play by his rules. Pretend to be an obedient and loving wife. At least for now.

You will slowly regain your old life. And maybe if you play smarter and manipulate him more delicately without showing too much act of rebellion, he may become your puppet and not the other way around. After all, you both were powerful. In your own way.

And you both win and lose in different batches of this game between you two.

[honeyhotteoks]

okay SO... in absolute lusty haze I started to listen to an augustinthewinter audio per your recommendation, got to the end of the free version and immediately became a patreon subscriber😫 I have to know which augustinthewinter audios inspired these yunho fics... i'm too curious !!

I hope you're having the best vacation btw <3

!!!!!! amazing - honestly i love him as a ns/fw creator so much that i am so glad i was able to send any amount of attention from that post.

as far as which audios are inspiring which thoughts....... there's a few in particular i need to write for yunho and for others......... a few that i'd love to get out for kinktober but i'm so behind on writing that atp i can't really make any promises BUT -

distracting your gamer friend over voice chat gets serious (🎧🔞reddit) - yunho x reader. i genuinely dislike almost every gamer fic i've ever read but this audio literally changed my brain chemistry. so i'd love to write what i want in a gamer yunho fic using this audio as a jumping off point. but essentially, gamer!yunho / neighbor!yunho x gamer!reader verbally fuck with each other while gaming and when reader loses a bet he gets to come over to your place and do what he wants to you. fucked by your secret ghost roommate on halloween night (🎧🔞 reddit) - ghost!mingi x student!reader; the idea is essentially mingi used to live in her dorm and died there and he has a lot of unfinished business.... namely he's a virgin (not that he's going to tell reader that). she knows there's a ghost, he's watched her hook up before/touch herself, and she's into that..... but when her plans fall through on halloween night and the veil is thin and mingi realizes he's kind of corporeal? well all bets are off. plus this gives me the chance to write overly confident with his words mingi who turns out to be a subby whiner the minute he actually gets to touch the girl lmao hooking up with a masked stranger at the halloween party (🎧🔞 reddit) - boyfriend!yunho x girlfriend!reader; while august's audio isn't necessarily preplanned relationship cnc, i think that's what i'd be more comfortable writing. but yunho and reader essentially decide to go to a masked halloween party and pretend to be strangers to fulfill one of his biggest fantasies. so she dresses up as the final girl and he dresses up as a psycho killer in a mask..... and the rest is between them and the house party basement. temping your favorite tailor at your dress fitting (🎧🔞 patreon exclusive) - tailor!seonghwa x princess!reader; after years of having a close friendship with your personal tailor and dress designer, you need to take your engagement dress for a fitting. you're about to be married off to a man you don't know in a country far away from seonghwa and everything you've ever known.... and you find yourself alone with him, confessing your fears and your true feelings for him in the middle of your fitting. def a more tragic romantic vibe than august's audio, but you know i'm about the angst.

anyways there's more because frankly his scenarios just eat it up they're the best, but these are the ones i reallllllly want to write some short smutty oneshots for (short like 5k-8k because lbr i can't shut up ever)

also small disclaimer, august has said that he doesn't mind people writing fics/works based on his scripts as long as it's actual inspiration / not plagiarism

[goat-fanatic]

r u gonna make a fic or comic out of ur creature au id love it soooo much and i want to see more of it !!!! ur so talented btw i love ur artstyle so badly!!!!!! ur one of my fav tumblr artists and a big inspiration for me lolol heart hands emoji

like i said before id love to make a comic but im pretty bad at writing comics cuz its a whole seperate skill. but im trying to learn rn so hopefully yk. as for a fic, i was thinking abt some oneshots. im writing one rn of gee returning after being turned but its like my first serious fic ever so idk if ill post it right away lmao sorry

[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here:

Oh...ohhh!! Vox arrives in hell but instead of legs he just has a Shark's tail! He has a TV head and a Shark's tail and Alastor is instantly smitten.

He gathers this new sinner up, protectively taking him to his house/radio tower and setting up aquarium and putting Vox in it, eyes warm.

Vox isn't amused. Why is this weird stag demon nuzzling him and calling him his muse? Vox is no one's anything!

Alastor adores how his muse attempts to shock him! (He has to buy shock resistant glass and he learns Vox does much better in salt water then fresh-(he brutally killed the Imps at the pet store that told him sharks would do fine in fresh water. His poor mate's gills were messed up for days!)) He is a bit irritated on how His beloved muse prefers only fish (fish sinners, but what his precious mate doesn't know won't hurt him)) but he can get past it.

HAS NO ONE TAUGHT ALASTOR NOT TO PICK UP RANDOM ANIMALS HE SEES ON THE STREET ????????? oh my god . this little FREAK i cannot believe he sees a pretty fish on the street and immediately takes him home. i really want to pry his head open and study him

i might snatch this concept to make mermay oneshots if ur okay w that btw. and im STILL working on the killer au i prommy i just have. wayyy too many wips and work to do irl lmfao. but for now. Snippet of writing because i love you /p(arasocial and platonic) (that first part is a joke. legally)

"You still haven't told me why you decided to keep me," Vox frowns as he hangs over the edge of the tank, watching Alastor steadily as he prepares a cut of sinner meat for the shark demon.

"Frankly, my dear, it was a burst of sudden inspiration on my part," Alastor hums. "It isn't every day you see someone as unique-looking as you, after all!"

"Is this about the TV head?" Vox frowns deeper.

"Well, not exactly--"

"It's about the TV head, isn't it?" Vox ducks underneath the water of his tank when Alastor doesn't reply, taking the others silence as an affirmative answer.

The deer demon sighs as his companion's body slowly becomes too ensconced in the murky depths of the tank for him to properly monitor, focusing his efforts back on making sure the fish sinner's corpse was prepared properly for Vox to ingest easily. Keeping a pet was much harder than Rosie had made it out to be- but in fairness, it was a burden he had decided to take upon himself.

After all, the day that Vox had appeared in Hell, it had been *his* arms that the sinner had fallen into- a stroke of luck, truly, as he had been vicariously gesturing to Rosie the motions he'd made for a recent and more theatrical hunt and been in *just* the right position to catch the poor dear- which was clearly a sign that Vox was meant to be his. And now, with the fascinating darling having been swimming around in the expansive tank of his living room for more than six months now, Alastor could confidently say that he had never made a choice more correct in his life.

Well, maybe not. Killing his father in cold blood had also been a pretty correct choice- maybe he should amend that to *afterlife*? Yes, that would work.

Alastor hums as he finishes the plating of the fish sinner, turning around to the tank with the finished meal in hand. He knocks on the glass wall- not expecting an answer, he goes to place the tray down next to the little window next to the bubble of air, only to be met with a much more- *human* looking face than expected.

Two glowing eyes, one the striking blue of larimar and another the rich brown of axinite, meet Alastor's own. Glowing marks stripe along the remarkably human face, as the shark sinner in front of him grins nervously. "I got rid of the TV. Will you let me go now?"

Alastor blinks.

Once, then twice. In the silence, he can see the nervous hopefulness on the demon's face flicker slightly as he breathes slowly, carefully setting the tray of food aside as he traces the outline of the other's face in the glass.

"Let you go, my dear? ...Oh, dear. I think I've been quite misconstrued. You aren't going anywhere, my lovely siren."

[annawayne]

Annaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T^T I hope you're doing alright today! Did you bake anything new recently!

For the writer's ask btw: 1, 4, 5, 8, 12, 14, 15, 23, 27 :3

Do it, tell me all about it! And I hope you have a great week :3 Thank you for blessing us with all your beautiful art and love T^T

Moon, hello (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Thank you a lot for asking, and OH MY, that's a lot, but don't get me wrong, I appreciate your interest a lot T^T

Let me first tell you about baking: I baked only the plum pie recently, and it's already gone... But I plan to bake pumpkin muffins with orange cream soon :3

As for the questions:

1 - the last sentence you wrote

I've already answered this one a bit earlier here, but as I got around to answer your question, here's another sentences that I actually wrote the last one:

"I wonder, why can’t we notice… until we’ve lost it already?"

👀

4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet

Oh, I have this one story idea in my mind, based on this one art...

Can't say much without spoilering , but this story has some angsty development. Like, very angsty.

Other than this, it's also a story about how AruAni met and fell in love, so some kind of strangers to lovers, with a lot of immediate attraction and interest, all set in Switzerland, 1911.

The caption in the original post - "It was the love at first sight" - is a leitmotif of this whole story.

I've been thinking about it while working on this drawing, and I didn't consider writing it, but the more time passes - the more I think that, eventually, I'll write it...

5 - first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

Uhm... Well, I think, the chapter 10 of MYLYSW counts for now, yes? If yes, so here we are:

"How to breathe without feeling the burden of the mission to be fulfilled; how to sleep without all the images of the world through the eyes of others; how to say a word without feeling obliged to remember a promise to come back; how to look at the sun and see in it the beauty of another day borning out of the velvet darkness of the night into the golden sunrise, and not to cross out another twenty-four hours out of one hundred and thirteen thousand nine hundred fifty-five hours of defined expiration of her."

Me and my damn love for the long sentences...

8 - if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Oh, good question! I don't really have a lot of fics, but I think I would love to write for Neverland of (Our) Desires, the Fort Salta oneshot-sequel, where AruAni are caught in feelings and have an awkward-silly conversation about their boat *adventure*, with all these emotions and feelings of having the life ahead of them and not knowing what to do with it... Oh well, oh well, such a potential 🤌

12 - a trope you’re really into right now

Hm... Honestly, I've been into Forbidden Love or Star-crossed Lovers tropes recently...

It's quite canonical AruAni, to be honest, and I just love to think about it in different AUs and canon-compliant too, so yes, I would say these ones! And here a remark, that Forbidden Love/Star-crossed Lovers don't mean that it's a tragic ending - more like obstacles and a lot of angst, which challenge the characters and their love, and how it all develops within the plot.

14 - where do you get your inspiration?

You know, I thought I had a proper answer for it, but when I started typing it, I realized, that, in fact, I don't.

If I'm totally honest - I don't think I even have something special as "inspiration". I have ideas that pop up in my mind on their own, and then, I turn them into story or a moment in the fic, but I never particularly searched for it. I suppose, it's also a consequence of my constant art and literature involving, where I read/observe/study something, so I have this almost never-stopping source of new experience and knowledge, which leads to ideas and inspiration to create my own stories/drawings.

So, I think that my inspiration is constant studying and sources of knowledge.

15 - favorite weather for writing

Answered here :3

23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing

Moon, what a question *sigh*... Let's say:

evocative, raw and poetic

I thought of what to answer you on this particular question because it's a bit difficult for me to evaluate my own writing style, but I also remembered the words I received about it (including your wonderful feedback), and I guess, it helped me to pick these particular keywords.

27 - your favorite part of the writing process

Answered here, too :3

Thank you a lot for your interest and support, Moon, I wish you all the best and take care🖤

[kpchrs]

Fun facts about the Crack because I love to yap-yap, yackety-yack:

Obviously HEAVY spoilers to the Crack if anyone hasn't and wanna read it lol (Edit: I accidentally posted a post too early again. Gah. Whatever.)

This is inspired by Detective Conan (because it's the first murder mystery story I consumed, The Organisation is NOT the Black Organisation, btw), Sherlock (Max's way of solving the mystery, kinda), TBOSAS (the unreliable narrator), Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes (the narration vibe, kinda, I scanned them before I started writing it), Ace Attorney (the ridiculous names), and etc.

This is not the original idea. The original idea was...I think it's just a variation of the opening of my comment to AWIC. So it was supposed to be a short thing in AWIC comment section, but instead of a full blown case, Max and Nathan are solving MY death and the culprit is Céline @celinou LOL

THIS plot is inspired by my convo last October with Puni @riverinkfics while I was talking about maybe writing it as a oneshot instead. Out of nowhere, I got a vision of an unreliable narrator murderer POV but Max knows about it because she just jumped from the future. Then my brain just flowed to Max snapping Sussy's photo and bombing him with a murder accusation out of nowhere. And, there, I just got my plot bones.

I got the idea last October but I only started writing it in March because I think I had other things to do. When I posted it yesterday, it was minutes after I just finished writing it lmao

In the first plot draft, it's supposed to have soooo many rewinds, but, damn, I don't have the energy to do that. So I decided to cut it. Behold my notes and my handwriting! I wrote these in a Chinese family restaurant at Sunday noon.

My early struggle was how to involve Nathan and his powers in this oneshot, but then I got the idea to use his powers to scare interrogate people. And I figured that, huh, I didn't have to write it at all lol This is months before AWIC ends so it's a coincidence. My next struggle was figuring out why Sussy was there in the first place lol

I actually don't like first povs (both reading and writing), but third pov didn't agree with me when I started writing it so I tried for a first and I found it easier to write.

I tried to base the Max and Nathan in this crack on Céline's Max and Nathan, characterisation and all. (I mean, since this is a fanfiction to AWIC.) But I only base it on my memories, so I dunno how accurate it is. But this is Max and Nathan who have grown up and put on a detective persona so lol They are only truly themselves in the banter part.

This crack was supposed to be funnier, but the longer and longer I wrote Sussy's background and narration, the unfunnier and the more serious it was. That guy is such a dramatic theatre kid. Kinda a shame, but I rolled with it.

I didn't mean to post that teaser that early actually xD I meant to post that teaser when the fic was finished but alas…I accidentally posted it. "Surprise" for Céline's word was not randomly generated at all. I clicked 'Generate' on the Random Word Generator a lot to have the word I wanted. It's actually to say "Surprise!" I didn't expect Céline to really treat the post as a WIP Game xD That post was all crafted as a teaser from head to toe lol

At first the deadline was "As Soon As Possible", but then I didn't touch it for months. Coming back to comment on @weer02 Ver's chapters got me into a writing groove (lol I was so thankful), so for a week I was on the roll at that rate I could post it at the end of November. But then I got distracted by Life™ and I lost the groove again. The deadline had been "After Céline's Birthday", "Before Christmas", "After Christmas", and "Whatever You Have to Do, Finish It Before 2024 Ends, Kris!" lol I made it, yay!

In this world, Max and Nathan are a successful detective duo the sleuth world known as "The Photographing Detectives", because they always take photos everywhere with an expensive ass camera and a vintage Polaroid. Max DOES take a photo of their clients immediately when they enter the office. It's a legit procedure so Max can go back whenever and wherever when it's necessary. So yes, Max does bring a pile of relevant Polaroids everywhere with her. They are her weapons lol

There is a conspiracy theory because they are so good at their job that they use money (because people know Nathan is a rich boy) to make up all these cases they solve to build their image. But there is no evidence. (Duh.)

Nathan and Max's powers are so powerful now that they are drunk in it. They use their powers for power tripping. It's kinda fucked LOL

"Psychic detectives? No, no, just time-traveling ones" is Max's catchphrase that people never remember because she immediately rewinds that.

Max's office uniform is a T-shirt and jeans because she likes comfy. The grey blazer is to compromise with the professional detective world. (When Nathan found out that she just replaced her jacket with a blazer, he rolled his eyes and gave up.) I wrote that part months before the announcement of Double Exposure so yes, I've rejected Max Caulfield's fashion sense in DE from the start.

Despite him rolling eyes at Max's grey blazer, he then follows suit because they need to match, yeah? So yes, he wears a grey suit too with a black shirt inside.

Because Céline and I love our colour symbolism, this means this duo is treading on grey morality lol Because their investigation ways are not really that moral. Yep.

Max and Nathan are still great at photography. People who know them are actually amazed at the casual photos they sometimes share on the internet.

Of course, the interior design of the office is a combination of their respective aesthetics. The name board is Nathan's design.

I think it's obvious but Sussy quotes Agent Dale Cooper in S1E2 of Twin Peaks when he drinks the coffee. For some reason, it's the one thing that's different from the previous loop so Max is genuinely entertained. I got the idea to include this two days ago when I watched the episode while washing dishes. (EPISODE 2??? Okay, yeah, so I haven't really continued Twin Peaks, mmkay. I rewatched E2 because I forgot what it was about.)

Because Max has heard all the sob stories Sussy told her, she zones out while waiting to drop the one-liner. What she thinks about: "When will he finish? Have I done my laundry for today, do I have underwear? Should I just go make a sandwich but still pretend to listen? When will he finish so I can drop my killer one-liner? Ha. Killer one-liner. I'm so punny." When she does drop the bomb, she is so giddy inside like: "Holy crap, I feel like Sherlock. This is so fun ksjhisjcwe"

When Max bombards Sussy with the details of his murder, it's a half bluff deduction and half the information Nathan got from the case remains. Not the corpse tho. Nathan refuses to take time memories from human remains. It's really bad for his psyche after a while and we know his is quite fragile. Basically, you experience the deaths in first pov so. Even more so when their powers got even stronger. So if Max's nerf is still the intervals between time jumps, this is the one that nerfs him. Sure, it'd be the easiest thing, but do we want him to be in the psych ward? I don't think so. (This is the reason why Nathan wears gloves. (Black btw, because that's sexy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) Not that he can't control it, but…just in case.) Also, you are not the greatest detectives ever if you just see it, not solve it. They should have been a psychic duo instead, but that's less fun, maybe. (Nathan watching Psych: "Ha! Look, they are our opposites!")

Technically with their powers, they could have been a vigilante duo to save people left and right instead of solving crimes that have happened but that's in another alternate universe, I guess lmaooo

They have fans and shippers. Like us. But cue the moment when they found out their backstories and did a witchhunt on Nathan.

Mr Sussy Murderer and Ms Lily Dead. Silly names and anagrammed last names. Sussy's last name can be a reference to "demurrer".

It means nothing for Sussy because he didn't "so what" any of them anyway. Btw, I thought his name gave it right away that he's the killer? lol That was my worry. I guess I distracted people well.

Whenever Max calls him "Mr De Murrer", it's actually her calling him "Mr Murderer".

There was this one line I couldn't include in the final form because I didn't know where to put it, but it was: “My first case was a missing girl turned dead, just like this one.”

After Sussy runs away, Max is actually lmao-ing in the office and still lmao-ing when Nathan finally arrives.

In this AU, Nathan and Max have relied their life on their powers so much I imagine if the powers suddenly are gone for good, they are fucked. They will have to re-learn how to walk in a world full of uncertainty. Walk as mortals, mwahahaha!

I know I shouldn't explain unreliable narration, but while Sussy lies to Max a lot, or like almost all the time because of course, Sussy's inner narration is always truthful to how the whole thing really went, except for when he omits the details. But there is one point when his dialogue and inner narration agree with each other.

If you think about it, Sussy and Max are performing a theatre play for each other in that room, the difference is Sussy's is scripted while Max's is an improv. Sussy performs right after he enters the office and ends when Max drops the bomb. Max performs from when she says, "Yes, of course I've heard of you, Mr De Murrer" til Sussy runs because it's fun for her and she's a prankster. So yes, this fic is just a huge prank from her.

Now that I think about it, Nathan in AWIC is a theatre kid too loool? "One theatre kid walks into a detective agency of two theatre kids'..." Sorry he didn't get to perform lol

What would Nathan do to Sussy in the end? Something like Chapter 39 of AWIC lol

Feel free to ask anything if any, I maybe can answer pfft

[ebonystarfall]

A Cursed Taunt (pt. 2)

Ink!Peng x Ex-Brotherhood!Reader

Created by: Starlight (Owner 2)

Type of content: Oneshot

Pov: Second

Word count: 1553 (approximately)

TW: Theres gaslighting???? (Maybe??) Ink Peng is a bitch, not beta read, I feel absolutely tired but I want to do this because I feel guilty for not finishing this earlier...btw you almost DIE haha (you gotta be lucky Tang was there)

A/N: Guys I am SO sorry that it's been so long, I swear...I plan to write more when I get the chance, but school seems to have a tendency to place a hit on my creative mind and strike it down from its position at the top of my head and at the bottom of my heart. Btw this also takes part BEFORE Peng and Yellowtusk get out of the scroll. Before Tang finds out that Azure is bad and whatnot, y'know?

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

Even though you and the rest of the gang had managed to escape the ink demons before, you were separated once again, each of you thrown into different moments in these cursed scrolls of memory. You found yourself on Flower Fruit Mountain, a place that felt too familiar. This was the day you and the Brotherhood had gathered to discuss overthrowing the Jade Emperor, a day that had been etched into your mind forever. You had your doubts back then, but you kept them buried, fearing the judgment of those around you.

Peng, your closest friend, had been especially eager that day, their voice loud with conviction. "Azure Lion would be perfect on the throne," they had said, without a hint of hesitation. Their fervor had inspired the others, making the plan feel inevitable, but deep down, you had questioned if this was the right path. Still, you stayed silent, watching as the momentum built around their idea.

You didn’t like this memory much. It felt disorienting to be back in a place you knew wasn’t real. The fruit on the table was an illusion, the laughter and arguments of your former Brothers were mere phantoms, and Peng’s mischievous glances—those glances you’d yearned for throughout centuries of separation—were nothing more than a trick of the scroll.

...it simply was not real. This was just the scroll's doing. It was just something the scroll as doing. The protective curse would be there eventually. the protective curs-

"Y/N!! You're stuck in your thoughts again, wake up!" the familiar voice of Peng was heard, exasperatedly shaking your thoughts back down to the world.

You turned to face them, and you huffed. "Can't I just think for a second?"

Peng, ever the mischief-maker, simply giggled at your exasperation. They nudged you playfully with a grin, their eyes sparkling with amusement as they took another sip from their goblet of wine. "But where's the fun in that?" they teased, leaning closer. "Lighten up, will you? Don’t be such a sorry little rodent like Macaque over here!" They gestured toward Macaque with a mock-serious expression, clearly enjoying their own joke.

You took a second to glance at Macaque, who was shyly sitting next to the past version of Wukong. A scoff escaped your lips. "Don't make fun of him, you feathered oaf."

"Ah, very well then," Peng said with a mischievous glint in their eye. "I have an idea, little bug! How about we take a little time off from this gathering and head up to the mountain peaks? It'll certainly get rowdy soon, and I'd much rather keep my feathers intact." They snickered, glancing back at the chaotic scene unfolding at the table.

The scene was a perfect storm of pettiness and disorder. Wukong was in a heated argument with the Demon Bull King over the potency of their alcohol, while Macaque, though visibly irritated, remained in his seat, trying to ignore the ruckus. Azure Lion was literally dragging Wukong away from the Bull King, as if dealing with a feral cat. As for Yellowtusk, he was nowhere to be seen, and given the state of things, you couldn’t help but think he had made the right choice to leave.

"...fine," you muttered, your voice tinged with resignation. You were still grappling with whether this was a memory or an illusion—this Peng wasn’t real, but their presence felt undeniably genuine. Before you could dwell on it further, Peng took your hand with a playful grin and led you up the mountain peak, their fuchsia eyes shimmering with excitement as they glanced back at you.

"Isn't the view wonderful? Soon enough, we'll have the whole Celestial Realm to look down on! Isn't that...fun?"

You nodded silently, your thoughts heavy. After a moment, you mumbled, "Hey, Peng?"

"Yes, dear?" Peng responded, their voice warm and attentive.

"Is it wrong to feel attached to people who probably hate me now? Why do you think I feel that way?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Peng paused, as if considering your question carefully. Then, a mischievous smile spread across their face. "Because you're an idiot," they said simply.

You froze in surprise as Peng’s image began to dissolve, shifting into dark, feathery pieces of ink and energy. The curse of the scroll was catching up to you sooner than expected.

"A foolish, stupid little idiot," a new voice echoed with a sinister tone. "Hello there, little bug. It seems I’ve finally caught you once more."

—

You stared at the ink version of your former friend, then took a second to glance at the scenery. The warm lantern hanging on the nearby tree disappeared, leaving only a teal blue and inky black background. The bird demon scoffed, pointing their Ji at you, manifesting it from some ink splatters on the ground.

"It was such a bore trying to locate you, then that scholar, those demons, and that horse dragon girl...irritating, all of it. Luckily for them, I'm going to take my time on you first."

"Stop confusing me! You're not the real Peng, you're just a curse pretending to be them for some pity! Stop it, damn it!" You had yelled, taking a step back.

The inky bird demon clearly didn’t take kindly to your outburst. They surged toward you with alarming speed, their talons swiping dangerously close to your sides. A sinister cackle escaped them, and their teal-glowing eyes rolled with a mockingly feigned innocence.

"I have no idea what you mean by that," the demon crooned, their voice dripping with false sweetness. "Why would you say something like that? Do you not trust me, Y/N? All we've done together, all that we’ve…" They leaned in closer, their warm breath brushing against your neck—a stark contrast to the chill of their appearance. Peng had never been this warm, and a shiver raced down your spine as they continued, "…experienced together…"

You could feel strange droplets falling onto your shoulders, and despite yourself, you remained frozen in place. Tiny, warm ink droplets trickled from the demon's body, a bizarre reminder of their unsettling proximity. Ink Peng's form leaned even closer, their voice a whisper in your ear.

"Doesn't this feel real to you, little bug?" they taunted, their tone laced with a twisted satisfaction.

You remained silent, the sensation of warm ink enveloping you in its twisted embrace making you shudder. The texture was unsettling, reminiscent of lukewarm oil—slick and unnervingly smooth.

"My, my, so quiet now. How sad," the ink demon tutted, their voice laced with mock sympathy. They nuzzled you with their strange, inky feathers, the touch both alien and intimate, as if trying to draw out a reaction from you.

"Don't… don't pretend to be them," you said, your voice trembling. "You will never be half of my old friend, ever. No matter how many times you look through these memories, you will never compare to—"

You tried to continue, but your breath caught as you felt the blade of the Ji pressing against your throat. The inky metal was almost imperceptibly sharp, just barely piercing your skin. The sting was sharp and immediate, and a tiny droplet of blood began to trickle down from your neck.

"What was that?" the ink demon's voice was tauntingly smooth. "Seems like you're a bit preoccupied with something." Their tone was a cruel mix of amusement and menace, making the situation all the more terrifying.

You gasped as the ink demon applied a bit more pressure to the blade, the sting intensifying as it sliced through your skin. The warmth of your own blood mingled with the cold, inky metal, and for a moment, it seemed as if the end might be near. Your heart raced, and a sharp pain shot through your neck, threatening to suffocate you.

Just as the pain became unbearable, a flash of golden light erupted in the chaos. Tang, the scholar who simply LOVED learning about the legends, appeared out of nowhere with his golden magic staff. His face was pale with fear, but his eyes were locked on you with intense relief. “ACK- hold on, Y/N, I don't know how to work this thing!” he cried out, his voice trembling. The staff emitted a blinding glow as he desperately swung it, catching Ink Peng off guard. In the split second of distraction, Tang’s magic teleported you away from the blade’s edge.

The protective curse around the scroll flared up, irate at the sudden disruption. Ink Peng’s form wavered with irritation as they glared at the spot where you had vanished. Their frustration was palpable, their dark ink swirling with heightened agitation.

—

In the new location within the scroll, Tang's panicked voice broke through the haze. “Y/N, are you okay?! You look hurt, I can find something to help...”

He reached out, his hands trembling as he tried to assess your condition. But you remained unresponsive, your mind still spinning from the encounter. Thoughts of Peng and the near-death experience clouded your thoughts, making it difficult to focus on Tang’s concerned face or his desperate attempts to ensure you were alright.

You just felt...numb, to be honest.

[colectingstrz]

THIS ONE IS FOR U

➤ (🏀) oneshot | Jake x fem reader | fluff | ex’s to lovers | word count: 1.8k | high school au | not proof read soz 🥲

Soo's smol notey:📝: I saw this pic on Pinterest and I was immediately inspired to write a Jake related fic with some correlation to basketball ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ + plussss Jake is soo so the type to yell this is for you and miss 😭 hence the title 💀

“Unknowingly, when you call my name Heartbreakingly, my heart is pounding”

After a messy breakup things have been awkward especially as your the teams manger and have to interact with Jake on a daily basis or in which Jake is determined to win you over and get you back even embarrassing himself in the process

TO SAY THINGS ARE AWKWARD IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. You and Jake’s breakup was as messy as it could be. Jake had cheated on you the whole thing drove you mad not only did you drag the girl by her hair you also dragged Jake and attempted to drown him in the pool in front of everyone. If it weren’t for your friends and his getting involved you would have gone to jail for murder that day.

Though time has gone past and you are no longer upset and have accepted reality, you are still slightly embarrassed about how you acted at the time as well as the status of your and Jake's relationship, especially as you are his basketball team’s manager. You pretend it's nothing, but you're bothered and find it difficult to be comfortable around him.

"So... do you have a prom date yet?" Jake inquires, gazing your way as he dribbles the ball. "Why should that worry you? It's none of your business who I'm with," he groans, "it's my business you're my ex," you smile " key word here is ex..my life should not concern you now, stop asking stupid questions and start shooting some hoops," you say one final time before leaving and heading to the back to collect additional basketballs, which Heeseung had requested earlier.

While looking for which set to pick you feel a presence behind you. So you turn around to be face to face with the last man you wanted to see. Go away Jake seriously “ dont make me report you for stalking ”Jake laughed holding his chest “ ahh im so hurt y/n” you roll your eyes turning back but Jake held your shoulder forcing you to turn to him “ who are you going with tho?” Why does he want to know so bad.. it’s weird “ since your begging for an answer I’ll let you know..honesty I have no idea yet I haven’t decided “ he hummed as a response but you could tell he was thinking

He had that I’m thinking of something stupid jake face on right now “ go on.. just say it I know you want to..” his face lit up before he took a deep breath “ well I have no one to go with and you seem to not have anyone to go with..soooo you and me prom! what do you think ?” Is he on drugs ? Or has he just genuinely lost the plot you blink your eyes aggressively perplexed as to what you were hearing.

“ what do I think? Why would I got to prom with my ex who cheated on me ? Do you seriously want to know what I think-because I have a bone to pick with you Jake don’t even get me started" you felt yourself getting worked up as you resurfaced locked memories you never wanted to remember “ i already told you I even showed you how sorry i was.. I even tried explained to you what actually happened but you would not listen! You know I would never hurt you” here he goes again with the lies

“ I don’t want to hear it.. I do not want to have this conversation with you.. I’m not going to be your prom date go ask some other girl” you shove past him and storm out of the hall forgetting the little side quest heeseung had set you on. A deep sigh was let out as you rested on a the wall of the hallway why can’t you just leave me alone Jake

JAKE’S 2ND ATTEMPT. The next day was simply no better jake was really pushing your buttons “ the answer is 45 btw” he whispered to you. At this point he had basically given you the answers to half of the paper he might as well have just sat the test for you instead. I don’t need your help leave me aloneeee “ jake piss off I don’t need you I can do this myself” you whispered back basically spitting out your words at him so he would get the point and leave you alone. He sighed, turning away from you , relieved to have some peace and quiet you attempt the to tackle the other half of the paper and realise you had no idea what any of the questions were or how to answer them.

You sighed, knowing you needed Jake's assistance. Kill me now pls You look to your side to already see Jake staring at you with his head resting on his Palm “ it seems you need me love ” you roll your eyes “ call me love again and I’ll drown you in the pool for real this time just give me the answers ” your response causes Jake to laugh slightly as he turns his paper in your direction so you can copy the rest.

" you owe me for basically giving you a free A " you sigh " you never asked anything back when we were together tho.." Jake flicked your forehead causing you to flinch in agony. What the hell jake " we’ll likeeee you said earlier, you're my ex, so this kind gesture comes at a cost, my love," he should stop calling me that. "So, what exactly do you want?" Jake grins “Be my prom date." You step back "Oh my Jake, you've turned into a comedian haven't you? “ You were laughing so hard you had to hold your stomach because it was starting to hurt. "I'm not going to be your prom date" get somebody else to do it You pat him on the back with a fake smile before walking away, or rather sprinting away, because you could see him following you again in the corner of your eye.

JAKE’S 3RD ATTEMPT. if it was not bad enough he tormented you at school he had the audacity to show up at your house and disturb you in the comfort of your own home. Your sitting down chilling while doing some sketches, when you hear a bang on your window, what the hell? You are on your knees, peering out, to get a peek only to find Jake waving down at you, holding a flower he had snatched from your mother's treasured garden. The more Jake kept going the more it gave you any tiny hint of hope..you were even willing to look past what he had done to you almost wanting to give in. Why can’t you just stay out of my life Jake stop making me feel things

Jake, as usual, got his way, and you ended up letting him in through your window and now sit on opposing sides of the bed. "you know... you could have just knocked and my sister would have opened the door for you... she's like the only one who likes you in this household," you said slyly, to which Jake sighed and looked down. " Can we not do this right now?" You raised your brow. "Do what argue? Are you afraid of being called out?" Standing up, Jake sighed once more.

“ stop this it’s so-so irritating ! I keep trying to explain myself to you and you never want to listen to me ! It’s like In your head you’ve already painted me as some Cheater when that’s not what happed ” I don’t have time for this “ well I don’t know how you expect me to believe you when I saw what I saw ! Even my friends told me that they saw you guys together before I even came down to see it for myself !” Jake sighed in irritation, approaching you and placed his hands on your shoulders “y/n.. can you just trust me for once and take my word.. you know how much you mean to me, I would never go out of my way to hurt or disrespect you." “She kissed me, and I didn't know what to do. I pulled her away, but you had already left."

You didn't want to believe it, yet you gave in so easily, especially when Jake sounded so serious and genuine that you couldn't detect a lie anywhere... Reality had hit you. You realise for some reason that you never really talked to Jake after that, and ghosted him because you had fixed your mind on your opinion of what had happened, never really wanting to hear his side of the story

You hated yourself for doing this and ignoring him all this time, you both had been hurting for no cause. If it went for yourself and your overthinking and actually had bothered to talk it out with Jake now you could have still been together. Gosh why am I so quick to always jump to conclusions this is my fault " Jake.. I'm so sorry..I-“ shhh it's ok it’s alright " Jake cut you off by pulling you into his chest, one hand resting on your head and the other on your waist as he pulled you into a hug. "All that matters is that you believe me now in this moment.. that's all I ever needed and wanted from you my love," similar to before before hearing him call you that made your heart flutter but in this circumstance you felt your heart just melt.

“Here is my heart out for you ”

JAKE’S FINAL AND LAST ATTEMPT WAS THE GRAND FINAL. Now that you and him were on talking terms the awkwardness eventually faded away and it was like freshman year all over again with the two of you locking gazes across the room and quickly looking away. Blushing at any compliment he would make. Cute exchange of love letters in class it was nostalgic. Jake was the happiest he had been in a long time, and his teammates noticed. Jake's performance had improved shooting many goals more than he had in the previous semester, and it was clear from the lovey dovey glances you two exchanged across the sports hall at every practise session that you and jake had patched it up. Though Jake, on the other hand still wanted to ask you to prom.

But now that you two are back on track, he wanted to make a huge proposal that would show you and Convey how how he truly felt and as well as a cool way to ask you out. Jake wanted to impress you with want he knew best aka basketball.

During practice you had arrived a bit late due to your teacher but you still rushed to the hall not wanting to keep the team waiting. As soon as you arrived you sat down on the front bench as you went on your phone to quickly reply to your friends message ." hey y/n" You look up to see Jake joyously waving at you, and you reciprocate one. He holds the ball up pointing in your direction " This one's for you! " He yells before shooting into the hoop. Jake had a vision of how this would play out, which included him taking a beautiful shot, you being amazed, and him asking you out to prom. But, unfortunately for you Jake and everyone else in the room, he absolutely missed it; he wasn't even close to getting it in.

The entire situation was humiliating. Afterwards to top it off Jake clumsily stood on one knee almost tripping while he whipped out a Harry Bow ring form his pocket , reaching out to you, "w-will you be my prom date?" No..way he can’t be serious You were resisting the urge to laugh, but you managed to let out a small "yes" as you ran into his arms for a big bear hug. The whole thing was amusing. Jake was clumsy, but it was adorable because you could see he tried his hardest for you even if it didn't work out.

Despite all that and happed between you two… you was happy to see he was still the awkward and cute boyfriend you had learned to adore.

@COPYRIGHTS SOOTREEPEAR 2023

𖤐 steal my work and I’ll come to your house and suck your blood 🧛‍♀️

𖤐authors notes and dat pt2.📝: broke off the sad ending streeak 😻 wrote tbis at 4am so if sometimg is spelt wrong erase it from your memory and act like u didn’t see it (ง'̀-'́)ง aniii ways i hope you liked it !! + if you already saw this it is a repost 😭 I privated it and made some changes

- peace and love ♡︎

𖤐 link to my other works !!

[fangsyouverymuch01]

Sneak peek of Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Tav oneshot inspired by strangers

So I have not had the energy to write the last couple of days, and writing angst is more taxing than I anticipated.

Anyhow, this is a sneak peek for my one shot inspired by the song strangers. Hoping this will be done by Friday ;)

btw here is the song! <33

[kittynugg]

haha yeah that's just average tumblr user exaggeration we do it all the ti-

*lacrimosa plays like the part where the meme is*

you werent kidding.

YOU WERENT KIDDING

okay so i've learned not to underestimate you leene ( @empressofsamoyeds )

lot of answers under the cut HHAQHKH

this is a fun one! okay so back in my glory days before the horrors (11-13 years old) i used to.. not know ao3 existed! i'd get my reading in on fanfiction.net reading exclusively the detroit: become human works of waywardwonder (also on ao3). this person was/is incredibly talented and writes novel-length fics so if you like dbh you'll probably like them because i FUCKING loved this person.

this person's works were incredibly inspiring to me, i wanted to write dbh fics of my own which i never ended up doing beside a draft i wrote directly on ao3 and gave up on and deleted because i didnt know what rich text OR html was

my NEXT shot at fanfiction i believe i wrote in either microsoft word or on grammarly when i was thirteen, i asked my like 16 year old friend at the time to beta read and they said it looked like something they'd write in middle school and regret in highschool and they were right

sooooooooooo i gave up again

then came a certain show by a certain zoophile who i had no fucking idea about at the time btw that was uh. a shocker. but i. had. HEADCANONS. al*stor was my SON. i gave him a backstory, a cute nickname, a wip i didnt finish..

and then i stopped caring about hazbin hotel because BAM INVADER ZIM BABY LOOK AT THAT LITTLE GUY GO LOOK AT THAT CHILD TRY TO DISSECT HIM i wrote SO MUCH and it was ALL uh

IT WAS ALL TERRIBLE

but this time i didnt give up! my friends encouraged and uplifted me and i discovered looking up "writing tips" on pinterest and i just kept getting better and now i regret writing that dbh fic.

okay so woefully the emoji does not work BUUUUUT I HAVE THE POWER OF THE INTERNET

roller skate

roller skate?

alright whatever. this is for the next chapter of a little dilemma which you should totally read guys. 👧👦🎠🖐👆 its pretty poorly done not very descriptive (THE EMOJIS NOT THE FIC I SWEAR!!) but im a dumb idiot sorry

why is that a roller ska-

OOH!! IOPIOH OOOH!

okay so this first one is a camp camp fic, in which david adopts max because that is the standard for camp camp fics, it's called Love Like You and it is my ALL-TIME FAVORITE. I LOVE IT

this right here, Can't Sleep (And it's Not Because I'm Touch-Starved) almost ties it despite being a oneshot. this is just a fic of ford being in denial about wanting to cuddle its beautiful its my comfort fic. in fact thats my all-time favorite oneshot and love like you is my all-time favorite multi-chapter

and finally, Oh, brother, we go deeper than the ink beneath the skin. it is a series of sickfics that isnt complete yet and you should pleaaseeee read it? please? i love it its stan and ford-centric and its so cute

i usually dont have any but rn i haveeeeeeeeeee seven, two were from roblox and the other five were from ao3

uhhh hmmm

i used to LOVE hello kitty when i was younger, i was a girl when i was younger if that explains it. i've had this old beat up greyed plushie of her for over ten years now i think? she is in my shelf of things that make me happy and when i finally get my gf shit its going to join her

PURELY writer's block. i belieeeeve the source is boredom or understimulation but i've found that when i just dont work on what i should be working on and start a whole new fic instead i can write like over 1,000 words in one day EASILY but otherwise i struggle to write over 500

okay so i do not ship, this is not even a pairing because stan and ford are canonically brothers but here is my headcanon

in ohbrotherwegodeeperthantheinkbeneaththeskin (goddamn its a long name its linked above) ford is mentioned to have a lamb plushie, and i played cult of the lamb with my brother as the goat so i hc that stan and ford had matching lamb and goat plushies as kids. stan lost his somewhere in the house and ford brought his with him to college, it sat in a box until after the show's events when stan revealed to their mother that "..hey ma.. it might seem crazy what im bout to say" and tells her about ford and both her favorite sons are alive and blah blah

and she HURRIES over to visit them and brings stan's old goat plushie she found somewhere ages ago and kept in good condition as something to remember her baby by

so the twins and their childhood plushies were reunited, and ford named them lambert and goatfrey after some lame shit (my headcanon names for the lamb and goat in cotl 🥺)

here's some art i did and sent to someone on anon so if you've seen this before you probably have but im not stealing it hffhuk dont hurt me

they cherish them

...

*cough*

*cricket sound effe-

no no alright three good things -my birthday is in ten days -i found out which store sells the teabags i used to drink in america (black tea obv hifuhukfh THEY BARELY SELL IT HERE) and im currently drinking iced tea -starting to believe that people actually like my writing

i do not use my notes app i used you as my notes app last night to remind myself to think of ideas for stan and mabel bonding (btw i failed) but the latest thing in my stupid opera flow thing wont let me open flow okay thanks opera. im sure its something about stan and ford

i believe ice machines is up there, also how much water could fill an adult's lungs. i dont thik it was for water i think i was just trying not to get put on any lists

if you feel like having a freakout or reaching for a bad coping mechanism, draw something instead! this has saved me from relapsing multiple times

i dont particularly have a dream-fic but i'd like rubyflakes to write more about stan and ford platonically cuddling

my solution is to get inspired by something else and forget about the first thing and make insane progress on the second thing in one day and feel like you did nothing despite all you did with the second thing because you didnt work on the first thing. it works wonders on the second thing

fucking spiders georg man that man is crazy

i get fucking giddy at any comments but the two types that make me the happiest are specific compliments on parts that they liked (leene i love you/p) or "UHFUHVKFVKHU I LOVED THIS SO MUCH IRHFKHFHJFVJF" (my type of comment that is how i comment)

bill bILL THAT FUCKING--

okay so when he's not being shipped with ford he's an objectively good character. i hate him a lot. -they do a good job at making a *cough* irredeemable villain. genuinely the shit bill does is wholly unforgivable. i do not give a fuck what happened to him i have no sympathy -hes silly!! okay so i do despise him but he is FUNNY at times, gotta give him credit where credit's due -he's rotting in therapy and i hope he stays there 😊😊

..ford

no not really

what the fuck who are you

i hve been scratching my neck like a crackhead waiting to open the birthday gift my friend sent me for five days now. ten more days

i hope that answers your question

you bastard making me work on MY writing/j

okay ehre you are its fir a little dilemma its 100 words they're playing on a see-saw :>

“I knew I could count on you!” Mabel chirped, grinning from ear to ear. She took Ford’s still frustratingly-tiny hand and pulled him toward the see-saw. 

Naturally, Ford climbed on like he had the first time, and gripped the railing tightly with one hand as he pushed off the ground and was lifted into the air. Such a simple action.. and yet it was more fun than he had on a daily basis as an adult. Even the second time! It just didn’t get old! “Whoo!” He cheered, reaching a hand toward the sky that cast a long shadow against the ground.

my brother's username was ___nugg idk if he wants me to share it but i like kitties so i went kittynugg. i hate it so much

this fucking idiot

he stinks

okay so i CANT ATTACH ANHY MORE IMAGES so im gonna continue in another post (future connor here, here's part two!)