#and that somewhere along the lines you switched from i to you for absolutely no reason but ur not doing that again so what the hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

25% of US internet users with an annual income of $80-100K use Tumblr.

#and that somewhere along the lines you switched from i to you for absolutely no reason but ur not doing that again so what the hell

jamminvroomvroom · 1 month

Note

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

oof

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

1K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 17 days

Note

I want RE6 leon to fuck me until I pass out.

only a little drabble cause i'm having a hard time focusing rn but here you are cause this is real asf <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, overstimulation

You weren't sure what it was about tonight, or more specifically, what was up with Leon tonight. The past couple days he'd been clingier with normal, which was totally fine by you. You'd rather have him attached to your side than barely able to speak to you as was the case after a hard mission or a night when he had a bad dream.

But the clingy he'd been over the past couple days wasn't his normal clingy. It wasn't a hand constantly on your waist or swarms of gentle kisses landing at your hair line. A more accurate word to describe this would be need.

He was giving you tons of kisses, but they weren't gentle. They were open mouthed and sloppy up and down the side of your throat. His hands lingered on your body but not in a protective or loving manner. They groped and squeezed. The mere feeling of being so desired gave you the smallest spark of pleasure in your belly, but his desire for you nearly had burnt through an entire fuse.

It came no surprise to you that in the evening, his hands were snaking beneath your clothing, maneuvering your limbs around as if they belonged to a doll.

Needy kisses continued all along your throat and collar bone. Little murmurs of "just wanna feel you, baby" and "need to be inside that sweet little pussy" drifted up to your ears. Your fingers found his hair and gave it a little tug, a switch putting him into a state of no return.

Now his hand was wrapped around your throat. Your legs were bent over his shoulder. He was as deep inside you as physically possible without causing you an injury. You'd cum a few times already, pussy sore and aching but still sucking him like he was essential to your survival.

"Leon, fuck!" you cry out as his shaft continues sliding in and out of you raw, massaging all the pleasure spots that drove you wild.

He groans into the crook of your neck, biting at the skin as a way to not lose it. He didn't really know what was going on either. His stomach was doing flips at every tiny whimper you made, and his heart was locking up each time your walls fluttered around him.

"I know, honey. Just a little more. I'm almost done. I swear," he murmurs thoughtlessly.

The words were simply tools of placation. Another method to keep him safe and secure where he needed to be, balls deep inside of you.

Your back arches as much as it can in this position, and you whine like a desperate animal.

"That's my girl. I know, baby, I know. You're such a good girl, always giving me what I need," he coos in a strained tone.

His hips have a mind of their own, you know this well by now. You can feel them beginning to move like they're possessed. No regard for your pleasure, and in a way, almost no regard for his. They move purely with the drive to claim you. The deep primal part of him that ached to own you.

Your thighs quiver violently and the ability to speak with any sort of coherence is ripped away from you. It's all so much, and it's been so much for however long he's been drilling into you.

The noises coming from where the two of you connect sound throughout the room, wet and lewd. Unbridled and desperate.

You cum again at some point, but he's still fucking going. He's whimpering almost as if he's in pain. From what you can see with you're fading vision, his eyes are screwed shut and his breaths are coming out in ragged puffs.

"Baby, Jesus, I... ah- oh fuck, baby, my baby," he mumbles against your skin.

The bed below you feels as if it's on fire. Your skin burns with absolute overstimulation. Your head feels cased in a foggy container of lust. You aren't sure when it happens, but somewhere in the middle of all this, you pass out.

You're gone for a good ten seconds, head lolled back, eyes vacant, mouth parted and silent.

That's what clues Leon in that something's up. Your passionate mewls for him had abruptly faded to nothing. The hands clawing at his back had dropped away in favor of being limp on the mattress.

He pulls his head back, eyes widening when he sees your incapacitated state. But he can't stop moving his fucking hips. He so can't stop that the words "baby are you ok?" get tangled up into a whiny, humiliating groan that he's happy you most likely won't remember.

As you come to again, he cums inside of you. He throws his head back with a silent moan. Your gaze shows your disorientation but also the pleasure still coursing through you. He fucks that cum into you like it's his mission, and when he's done, you're pretty sure he's the one passed out now.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #inbox 🎀

879 notes · View notes

nicksolemnlyswears · 9 months

Note

DUDDDDE!!

I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!

Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭

But any whosies.

I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)

Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.

You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.

I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼

Take your time! <3

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one

notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.

trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.

anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!

i really really hope you like it!!

Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.

You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.

His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.

'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.

People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.

The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.

You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"

Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.

You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.

"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.

"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.

That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.

It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.

"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.

"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?

Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."

"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.

"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.

You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.

Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.

He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.

Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.

"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.

Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.

"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.

"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.

If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.

"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.

You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.

"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.

"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.

"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.

"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.

You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.

"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"

You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.

You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.

"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.

"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.

"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.

Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.

"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."

"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.

"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.

"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."

You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?

Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.

You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.

"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.

"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.

"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.

Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.

Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.

When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."

'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.

With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.

Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.

Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.

To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.

"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.

Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.

"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.

"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.

"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.

The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.

Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.

"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.

"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.

It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.

Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.

They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.

As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.

"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.

You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.

"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."

"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."

Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.

Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.

You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.

With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.

The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.

The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.

Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.

"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.

"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.

"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.

Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.

"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.

Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.

Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.

You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.

Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.

Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."

A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.

Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.

Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.

You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.

It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.

He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.

The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.

Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.

As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.

Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.

"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.

"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.

Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.

His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.

"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.

"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.

Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.

Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.

"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.

"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.

"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.

Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.

You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.

"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.

"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.

Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.

"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.

"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.

"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.

Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"

A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.

"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.

"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.

"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.

"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.

"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.

You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.

"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.

"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.

A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.

Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."

"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.

You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.

"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.

"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.

The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.

"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.

"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."

"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.

"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."

Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.

"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."

"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.

"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.

"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.

Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."

Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.

Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."

"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."

You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.

Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.

You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.

"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.

"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.

"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.

"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.

Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"

Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.

You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.

"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.

"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.

There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.

Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.

Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.

Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."

"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.

"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.

"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.

Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.

His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.

It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.

A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.

You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.

You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.

"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.

"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.

"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.

He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.

You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.

Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.

Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.

"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.

The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though.

As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.

You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.

Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.

Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"

"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.

"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.

Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.

Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.

His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.

Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.

Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.

"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.

Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.

"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.

"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.

"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.

You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.

Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.

Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.

"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.

"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."

Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.

"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.

Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"

You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."

"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.

"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.

"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.

You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.

"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.

Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.

"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.

"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.

You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.

Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.

"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.

"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.

Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.

Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples.

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white.

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist.

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other.

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back.

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours.

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him.

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop."

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you.

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically.

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier.

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds.

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two.

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder.

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin.

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

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

1K notes · View notes

simphornies · 3 months

Text

Artistic desire [Husk x Shy!Reader] Fluff

A/N: This was a request sent by a lovely follower. I'm not particularly good at writing shy characters but I did my best. Hopefully this suits your taste.

Word count: 3.4k (3,481)

Warnings: none unless you count mentions of mommy and daddy issues

You were a bit of a social recluse. Your parents fucked off and died somewhere in one of the seven rings when you were a teenager and since everything is basically free, besides drugs and sex, you just stayed in your parents’ manor. The only person that really checked up on you everyday was Charlie. You crossed paths when you were younger, rode through the emo phase together and now you’re both older.

Before her hotel opened up, she was eager to tell you of all the plans. Every. Single. Plan. Of course, you didn’t mind the chatter through the phone. You enjoyed something that filled up the empty halls in your home. You helped her redesign a bit but after a while, you were in a pit of…the opposite of an art block?

You spent every waking moment, painting and creating art. If you thanked your demon parents for anything, it’d be the part where their powers passed onto you naturally. Your mother was a beautiful muse, perfection in keeping everything aesthetically pleasing. Your father painted his muse at every given moment. You didn’t necessarily hate them per-say but you sure as hell didn’t love them. The moment you kept something out of place, an inch off the center, your mother scrambled to fix it.

She didn’t yell or bother with correcting you, she would just obsess with the finer details. Your father never stepped up for anything other than painting. Hell forbid you switch up his paints and he’d be locked in his room all day. Finishing piece after piece.

You didn’t take after any of their obsessive traits. Instead you embraced the messy lines, the off-centered pieces. You embraced the imperfection and impurities that came with hell itself.

And that is exactly how you ended up in Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. She convinced you to take your artistic abilities to brighten the place up. With the surprising help of Alastor, you chose compromise on the color palette. The fabrics, the decor, the lights, the curtains, the rugs. It was all your choosing. And when Alastor decided to phase in a bar with Husk included, the odd placement of green itched your brain in a good way.

The bar wasn’t the only thing that got you going. A surge of inspiration waved through your entire being the moment you saw him. The moment you heard his voice you wanted to capture it in art. There wasn’t a passing day where you didn’t sit at his bar, eagerly waiting for his next story.

At first, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you considering how well you got along with Alastor. But that opinion quickly faded the more you hung around him. Every time he’d tell a story, he noticed you always doodling in delight, listening to every detail. You didn’t participate in conversations much but he could tell you were listening to the whole thing. Your legitimate interest in his stories warmed his heart a little bit more than he’d ever admit. He soon realized that you two were probably the most sane demons in the entirety of the hotel.

“The usual?” He asks. You nod and continue to fill your sketchbook with drawings, the act visible to him by the way your eyes shine. He poured three glasses for you both. One glass of whiskey for him, a glass of champagne for you, and one of your old paint cups with water. He handed you your drink in a champagne glass and your cup next to your sketchbook. Last time he handed that to you, you accidentally drank the paint water.

You quietly thank him as you gleefully kick your feet in the empty space under you. The chairs hoisted you up enough for you to not touch the floor when you sat, something he found admirable. He hummed as he cleans a couple of glasses left over from when Angel was drinking.

Oh how he wished to take a peek at your drawings. He would never try to ask, he learned from one of your small conversations together that you said it’s like a diary. And he’d be damned if he pried into that. The only time he’ll ever get any information from people is when they’re absolutely fucked up wasted. He watched as your face was unbelievably close to the book, the sound of your pencil against the paper was soothing to him. Oddly enough, it was never complete without it.

“Hey, Y/N? Could you do me a big big big favor? Pretty please?” Charlie speaks up, breaking the silence between you two. He sighs and starts to stock up his shelves knowing that you were probably going to get hoisted away now. He feels the weird shift in his chest that made him realize he was actually in love with you this whole time.

“Yes, Charlie?” You looked up at her as you put your pencil down. “What can I do to help?” Your voice was smooth jazz to his ears. He wanted to hear you speak more. And he hated when other demons talked to him. But your voice. He’d fight in a war with the exorcists to hear you speak to him more. He secretly wished you said his name instead.

She gives you a guilty grin, “So, I was trying to make a sign for Sir Pentious and well…”

“It looks a little bit like vomit!” Nifty chimed in, unashamed.

Charlie laughed nervously, “I may have chosen the wrong green…Would you mind, helping me out?”

You smile, “Of course.” You get up, following Charlie and Vaggie to the opposite side of the lobby to give aid in their color struggles.

Nifty continued her cleaning and while she did, she realized that you had left your sketchbook wide open. Of course, as it is in Nifty’s nature, she snatches the book off of the bar’s countertop, just out of Husk’s view and takes a look at the page it was open to. She gasps and runs over to Angel and Alastor, eager to show her finds.

“My my. What a wonderful find you’ve got there, Nifty.” Alastor grins. He was not much of a lover but he sure as hell enjoyed seeing his little pet get flustered. And perhaps he’s been more tolerant lately so he figured he can have a bit of happiness in this hotel.

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Angel stares at the sketches you have of Husk. The two pages were filled with him and just him. Him cleaning the glasses, him fixing his hate, him with his wings out. Some were obvious direct sketches from his day-to-day life but the others were all from your mind. There was one of him in a fancy suit. One with his hair slicked back the way he briefly mentioned it during his stories of being an overlord. Angel stares at the page a bit longer before looking over at Alastor who shared his mischievous grin.

While you were painting the sign with Vaggie, Charlie is pulled to the side by Alastor. “Charlie, my dear. You would say that you are a lover girl at heart, would you not?” He asks.

“Uhm. Yes. Yes I am, Alastor.” She answers with confusion in her voice, “Why?”

“Why, Nifty had some groundbreaking finds just a moment ago that I believe I should be sharing with you.” He smiles widely as Angel hands her the open sketchbook.

“Somebody,” he whispers, “Got a little thing for Whiskers~”

Charlie takes one long look at the page and was about to start squealing in delight until Alastor puts a finger up to her lips. “Ah ah, my dear. Now’s not the time for that. Wouldn’t it be best that you talk about this with her in private.” He suggested.

“You’re right! Ohhhh my gosh! This is amazing!” She grins, “I’ve known her in all my years here in hell and I have not seen her take a liking to anybody. I’ll definitely talk about it with her!”

-----------------

The sign for Sir Pentious was up in congratulations for his arrival and his development. Everyone was cheering him on by the bar. You scout around for your sketchbook, swearing you left it by Husk. He wouldn’t be the type of guy to take personal things like that.

Just as you were about to ask him where it was, Charlie quickly drags you into a spare room, filled with excitement. Excitement that drove you a bit nervous.

“Charlie? Is there anything you need me to do here?” You ask, scanning the empty room around you.

She simply could not contain her excitement. “It’s come to my attention that you, my lovely lovely friend, may have a teeny tiny crush on someone.”

Oh fuck.

“Haaaa. What?” You ask, trying to contain your composure. “I don’t like anybody. That’s funny. Hah hahhh…” You nervously laughed.

Just then, Charlie hands you your sketchbook. “Nifty found it and well…you left it open to your most recent sketches…of Husk!” She squeals.

Your face turns a bright red as you swiped the sketchbook out of her hands. “Charlie! Oh fuck, please don’t tell me you told him.” You were every shade of red possible in hell out of sheer embarrassment.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t take that adorable opportunity away from you and him!” She hugs her shorter friend, “So. Tell me all about it! When did it start? When did you know?” She gasps in excitement as she thought of more questions to bombard you with, “Why? How did you find out? What do you like most about him?”

“W-well I…” You stutter, hugging your sketchbook close, “I’m not sure when but I just know that, these last couple of weeks he’s been…um…you know. Kind of inspiration? My…muse. If you will.”

Charlie loved your answers and continued to ask more questions. “So when are you going to tell him?” She gasps, “Oh my gosh—You guys should totally go on a date!”

“A DATE?” You choke, “Fucking hell—Charlie. I cannot bring myself to do that. You’re the only person I can talk to without stuttering too much and you want me to go on a date with the very demon I like?”

The answer was yes and before you know it, you and Husk are getting pushed out of the hotel with a pile of cash in both of your guys’ hands, courtesy of Charlie. She somehow got you both into matching outfits. A dress with hearts on the collar with a white and red pearly necklace to match. Husk was somehow, probably by Alastor, shoved into his overlord suit and tie.

“You motherfuckers better not fuck up my bar! I worked all day to keep shit organized!” He yelled at the closed door, “I’m talking about you, Angel Dust!” He scoffed and fixed his sleeves.

You couldn’t bear to look dead at him. You safely got peeks from your peripheral. On one of your attempts, the two of you made eye contact for a brief second. You immediately looked away, muttering an apology under your breath.

“Are you gonna stand there staring at nothing or are we going?” He elbowed you gently.

“Oh! U-Uh. I’m not quite sure…where we have to go.” You admitted.

He rolls his eyes, “Thrown into battle blind, huh?” He chuckled before moving in front of you, “Take my hand. Can’t have other demons fucking with our artist.”

You look at him, memorizing the way his grin sat on his face. A light blush forms across your cheeks as you take his hand. He walks with you down the city and into the nearest fancy club in your area.

“Ah. I think this is gonna be a little…”

“You scared?” He grins, “You’ll be fine. You’re with me. I’ll fuck shit up if I need to.” He flashed you his playing cards, edges as sharp as can be.

You sigh and nod, walking in with him. He sat you down at a quieter side, as quiet as a famous club can be. You both share a bottle of whiskey, your sudden interest shocking him.

“You know, that art thing you do is mesmerizing.” Why did he have to bring that up now? You internally groaned. “It’s like magic whenever you put whatever’s in that brain on paper.” He stirs his drink with a claw, looking at you. You swear you see a bit of sparkle in his usual dull eyes.

“Th-thanks, Husk.” You stutter. The way his name came out of you warmed him up more than his drink. He wanted you to say it again so badly. "I’ve seen you do magic too y’know.” As much as he paid attention to your work, so did you. You have endless sketches of him playing with cards, fucking around with Angel’s hand with a smooth move so quick one could barely catch it without attentive eyes.

“Ohhh,” He leans in a bit, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “So you watch me that close, huh?”

You choke on your drink, spitting a bit out, “Wh-what! No.”

He chuckles a bit, leaning back, “Cut the act, Y/N.” He closed his eyes, putting his glass up to his lips, “Alastor told me already. And Nifty. And Angel. And Charlie, you know she can’t keep a secret well.”

You were a mess. They told him and they didn’t tell you that they told him? You’re definitely messing with their rooms later. But how much did they tell him? You can’t pinpoint it. “I-” You coughed, trying to clear up your throat from your near death experience via literal drowning in alcohol. “I can’t help that you’re just…nice to draw.”

You turn away, a bit ashamed and definitely flustered. He was quiet, watching you intently as he sipped on his drink. “I like drawing anything I like.”

Now it was his turn to choke a bit but you didn’t catch it. He wiped his mouth, “So you like me then, right?”

You turn to face him not expecting his face to be so close to yours. A little shift and you two would fall into a kiss. You weren’t able to read his face well. He had a blank expression. You stare at him, face red.

“It’s okay, fucker. You know how it is,” He elbows you, laughing a bit before grabbing your hand to drag you out of the club. “I’m the bartender that knows everything about everybody.”

He rarely used his wings, unwilling to accept his demon form. But tonight, he stretched his wings out. “What’re you-”

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He looks at you over his shoulder, holding your hand a little tighter. You nod in response.

Without a second thought, he pulled you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You blinked and you were off the ground, soaring through the air. He held you close, careful to not let you fall.

“I want you to see something. Something I doubt anyone’s ever shown you.” He keeps his head up, unaware of how starstruck you’re looking at him. You were also too scared to look anywhere else.

He flies as high as he can, stopping at a certain point before holding you in his arms in a bridal style way. “Look around, Y/N. Take it all in.” He speaks softly. You look around and from where you guys are, you can see the entire Pentagram City. Your eyes are filled with a breathtaking view of the city you grew up in. He smiles at the sight of your interest, “As much as I fucking hate this place. It’s not bad when you can’t hear the chaos going on down there from up here.”

“It’s beautiful. I…I have to paint this.” You state, wishing you had your book with you. You rest your head on his chest. After a while you feel him fly towards a high point at the edge of the city, landing on a mountain. He doesn’t let you down as soon he lands though, he didn’t want to ruin your adoring looks at the view.

Your face is lit up with admiration, you feel at peace. It was quiet but a soothing kind of quiet. Your ears caught onto a different sound while you rested on his chest. Is he purring?

You look up at him, “Thanks for the ride, Husk.” Smiling warmly, you cupped his face in your hand. You swear you felt him lean into it. He puts you down gently before putting his hand over yours, returning your warm smile. “Can I ask you a question?”

He purrs softly, the vibrations reverberating on your hand. He nods. “Is it okay I…pet you a bit. You’re just so fluffy.” He went from looking at you with his eyes half shut to wide open, in disbelief. “I-It’s for my art! My drawings.” You laugh nervously, “You know…reference…” It was half a lie, which he is aware of, you actually do want to capture his soft looking fur in your drawings but wanted to know exactly how dense or fluffy it is.

He laughs, closing his eyes as he sat on the ground with you following after him, “You’re lucky I like you, Y/N. Go for it.”

He hated when people treated him like a cat but for you, he’d make an exception. He’d make multiple exceptions for you. You begin to stroke the top of his head, making sure you remember how it feels in your palms in case you never get the chance to do this again. His purring grew louder as he leaned into your touch.

You began to pet his cheeks, getting a closer look at his face, taking in every detail. From his heart shaped nose, to the way his eyebrows fluffed out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you. You were too mesmerized by how unbearably handsome he is to see him inching closer.

He grabs your hand on his cheek, “I could kiss you right now.” He could what? Before you got a chance to react he pulled you into him, his lips crashing on yours. You yelp before giving in and melting into him. The kiss didn’t last too long but it felt like hours.

You stared at him as longingly as you did dumbfounded. “Look, babe, I notice everything about you. Everything you do.” He holds your head in his hands. “I see the way you light up when Charlie brings you paintings. How you paint with that focused look. You’re one of, if not, the only demon with sense in that hotel and respect my boundaries. You’ve never pushed my buttons once. And I truly, truly appreciate it.”

You lean into his hold, holding his face in return, “I understand you a lot more than you think, Husk. I know it’s silly but I find comfort in you. I love the way your voice sounds. I love watching your magic tricks. I love the way you effortlessly make a drink without even looking. And I love the way you fight. You fill me with so much artistic desire and you get me out of the toughest art blocks out there.”

“And you help me stay calm when everybody gets on my nerves. I’ll take a fight on for you any day, babe.” He rests his forehead on yours, “Who would’ve thought my cold little heart could be warmed up in hell of all places, huh?”

He shifts and rests his head on your lap as you continue to pet him, humming softly as you did.

"And who would've thought I'd be able to get the grumpy bartender to purr in my lap?"

You two enjoyed the rest of your night together. He actually stole a bottle for you two and you both drank the night away.

“You think Y/N’s ruffling his feathers? If you know what I mean.” Angel laughs followed by a quick slap on the back by Vaggie. “Ow! It was just a joke. God, tits.”

“Oh I believe Husk is having a wonderful night.” Alastor grins, aware of what the soul he owns has done, “And might I say, he is quite the charmer. Truly a hidden gem. Under all that gruff he is but a little kitten.” He hummed, teleporting away into his tower.

Charlie was so excited and had set up a congratulations sign on the wall for when you two return. She was happy her dear friend finally found comfort in somebody.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #did i mention this was fluffy #fluffy

422 notes · View notes

mikanotes · 1 year

Note

Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #x reader

5K notes · View notes

abouttofillhisshoes · 19 days

Text

If you're all I need - M.H x Reader // pt.5

A/N: this is genuinely my first time writing anything let alone smut (if you can even call it that, it's just Matty being pathetic for about 4 thousand words) TW: for hard drugs, please take care of yourselves! Its angsty and sad, i had a hard time writing some of it. Ily @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading this monstrosity. I'm dedicating this fic to @sugar-coat-it for being an absolute legend and the sweetest person ever. Enjoy yourselves my loves ❤️

wc: 4.5k

part six

The Sound was like your second home. The flashing lights and too loud music enveloping you in a sort of warm, comforting hug. You were friendly with the staff, never rowdy or disturbing the peace. They knew about you and Mattys' habit, but then again, the whole club was on some substance or other.

Tobias, the bartender, had told you multiple times to “Please, be careful,” and to “Always check over it, make sure it's not laced,” you took his words to heart, and Matty always assured you his dealer was straight.

You trusted him with your life, so you took his words at face value.

Generic club music filled your ears, your drink was already sloshing in your hand, spilling onto the person in front of you. You apologize profusely, and are met with a scoff and an insult. Typical. Not caring, you turn around to dance with Matty. George was somewhere in the crowd, shouting song requests at the DJ like an absolute knobhead. Too many drinks turned him into a club music connoisseur, always knowing better. It was a miracle he hadn't been kicked out yet.

Matty stopped dancing, tapping your shoulder three times in a pattern. Bathroom. Nodding your head, you laugh giddily in anticipation, making your way towards the edge of the crowd. The neon sign glowed, illuminating your face as you walked past it, Matty following close behind.

Jess, one of the waitresses, saw you heading toward the bathroom.

She was your mate from school, being only two years older than you. You saw her mouth something along the lines of ‘be safe’. She nodded at you before going back to taking drink orders from the VIP tables.

The bathroom was always colder than the dance floor, more comfortable. As you turn the corner to go inside, you spot a familiar face. Ruby. The girl from that night. She looks different, exhausted.

You embrace, her hands shaking against your back. Offering her a line in return, she eagerly agrees. Matty takes out the baggie from the breast pocket of his suit jacket (yes, he had worn a suit jacket to the club), cutting three lines. Patrons walking in and out of the bathroom stopped to stare, eventually walking off muttering “fucking junkies,” under their breaths. You could care less, snorting your line first.

Time slowed as you lifted your head up in the direction of the entrance, to see a tall figure standing there. George. Fuck.

Matty was already doing his line when you tapped him on the back, gesturing to the door. You’d been caught. His eyes were wide, switching between you, Matty, and Ruby, who was still hunched over the sink.

“What the fuck are you lot doing,” He starts, storming toward the three of you. Ruby whispered into your ear, telling you she had to leave. You nod, as calm as possible, giving her a kiss farewell. She smiled her toothy smile, eye bags under her eyes prominent.

George had grabbed Mattys face, inspecting the faint traces of white powder under his nose, muttering some along the lines of “Jesus Christ mate, what are you doing?”

His eyes made their way to you, the expression on his face a look of pure disappointment.

“Oh fuck off! It's just a bit of blow, what's the big deal? Loads of people do it,” Matty laughs, avoiding George's gaze. You nod your head in agreement. At the end of the day, what was so wrong about wanting to feel good for a few hours? It's not like you were addicted.

“You cant say shit like that Matty, it fucking scares me,” his voice quivers, shaken up. “Youre fucking enabling each other, how can you not see that?” You roll your eyes, and Matty grabs your wrist, tugging you behind him. George tries to shout after you.

“Bugger off, George, you're not my mother,” you spit that last word at him, turning around to make eye contact before losing yourself in the crowd. Mattys hand grips yours with such an intensity you’d think he'd want to rip it off of you. You're both heading for the exit, the warm air of the summer night hitting your skin.

Matty looks at you, his pupils massive. He's sweating, the powder still sticking to his nose. You reach out, brushing it off. It clings to your fingers. You tap his lips, signaling for him to open his mouth, He obliges, parting his pink, rose lined lips. Your finger feels hot in his mouth as you rub it onto his gums. A whimper escapes him, and he looks down at you, eyes filled with one thing and one thing only. Lust.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. Your eyes narrow, and you bring your other hand up to stroke his face.

“What do you want, Matthew?” your voice is steady. You felt in control.

Another pathetic whine, his legs buckle beneath him as you trailed your hand down his jaw, stopping at his throat. Your fingers wrapped around it, and you could feel his erratic pulse thrumming in his neck. This felt wrong. Very, very wrong. But you don't stop, you never stop.

Your lips finally connect. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue. His breathing quickens, and you tug off his jacket, revealing his bare chest. The faint light of the alley didn't do him justice, but he looked beautiful. Your breath hitches when he loses a hand in your hair, his fingers weaving through it.

You can hear faint sirens in the background, as well the sound of cars speeding down the highway.

“George is a tosser, he doesn't know anything,” Matty murmurs against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. His left hand rests on your waist, drawing endless circles onto your lower back.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I hope Ruby’s okay though, she looked proper rough.” Matty shakes his head, pushing your face into his chest. The two of you stand there like that, breathing in each other's essence. A strange sense of unease clouds your mind, interrupted by Mattys lips crashing against yours.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

“Can I pierce you?”

“No fucking chance you’re going near my body with a needle,” Matty laughs, taking a swig from the bottle of champagne in his hand. You wanted to practice, and Rome wouldn't let you do any more on him. You sigh, laying back on your elbows, staring at the ceiling.

“D’you even have the proper supplies or anything? Let me guess, Rome has converted you.” You nod, confirming his suspicion of Rome’s involvement. You plead with him further, and he inevitably gives in.

“If you fuck it up, i will never forgive you.” you laugh at him, slightly tipsy but still in control of yourself. “You have to chill, mate, it's just me shoving a needle into your body.”

“What do you wanna do? I was thinking maybe a second ear piercing or-” you cut him off

“I wanna pierce your nipples, that's the one i haven't done yet” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. Truthfully, your heart was racing at the thought of doing it. His was too.

“Are you sure? I don't want my nipples to disintegrate. It's quite a turn off, y’know? Not having any.” you roll your eyes at him, turning around to get the piercing kit Rome had given you as a late birthday present.

It contained various needles, disinfectant wipes and starter jewelry. Matty had already laid down onto the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.

Tearing the wipe open with your teeth, you turn around to face him. His breathing is unsteady, you can tell

“Calm down, it'll just be a pinch. I know what I'm doing,” he grins, brushing his hair out of his face. “We both know that's not true, but I trust you.” I trust you. The words reverberate through your skull, making you smile.

You wipe the needle first, then his chest. Using a pen, you mark where you want the jewelry to go. He had picked out a black, circular barbell. Fitting.

“Ok, just like, take a deep breath. You can't move” your voice is low, your hands trailing up his chest. It felt intimate, seeing him like this.

“Just do it, I'll be alright,” he shuffles slightly against the sheets of the bed, gripping them between his fingers. You know he thinks you won't notice, but he's nervous. You press a kiss next to his mouth, your eyes never leaving his.

Taking a breath to steady your hands, you push through the bud. You expect him to wince, maybe even cry. They were supposed to be quite painful.

Instead, he moans. Oh? You cock an eyebrow at him, noticing he’s beat red. The sight makes you giddy. He’s enjoying this.

A small tear rolls down his cheek as he twitches against the mattress. The look on his face is clear. Desperation.

His hands relax slightly, and you push the jewelry through.

“G-god dammit, fuck.” The noise is like music to your ears. He grew redder, if that was even possible. His eyes lock with yours. He's embarrassed. A grin spreads onto your face as you flick the jewelry, looking to elicit another reaction.

Your experiment proves correct, and he lets out a pathetic whimper, slapping his hand over his mouth to stifle it. Too late.

“Do you like it when I hurt you?” you ask, taking in the sight before you. Matty was sprawled across your bed, panting like a dog, skin flushed a light pinkish hue. His chest moved up and down rapidly, his hand covering half of his face.

His response is a slight nod, eyes searching yours for your reaction. You offer him a smile, your heart full of love. He trusted you that much. He trusted you enough to hurt him.

“We’ll do one today, save the other for later?” you suggest, your hand playing with his curls. He blinks back tears, nodding at you. His arms reach out for you, pulling you on top of him. Your chests press together, and he winces at the pressure on his piercing. Your lips move against each other, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the intrusion, he props himself up on his elbows, looking for leverage. You don't give it to him, pushing him down.

He pulls away, eyes raking over your frame. Grinning, he bites his lip provocatively. Your fingers move to his eyes, smearing his eyeliner down his face. He laughs, the sound morphing into a moan as you grind down onto him. Only slightly, never giving him what he really wants.

He looks fucked out, raw. You still, getting off him with a wink. He looks at you puzzled, wondering if he did something wrong. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“I know what you want, and I'm not going to give it to you. Not until you earn it.” He sits up, eyes silently pleading with you. Pleasepleasepleaseplease. He begged, you could see it on his face.

“Let's go out, I'm bored,” he shuddered at your words, getting up from his position. Walking over to your wardrobe, he pulled out a shirt of yours to wear. He was going to play your game.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Let's do something fun! Lets go decorate plates or something,” you suggest, your words being met with an eye roll from Matty.

“You're taking the piss, I'd be torn apart if I was seen decorating plates” He laughs, pushing you off to the side. You were walking down an empty street, the sun shining slightly between the clouds. It was fairly warm.

You neared a hobby shop, dragging Matty in with you, filtering out his groans of protest “Oh for fucks sake, let me go!” he huffs, pulling his arm out of your grasp. You raise your eyebrows at him, a slight smile creeping into your face. He smiles back at you, reluctantly turning towards the large selection of rhinestones in front of him.

You picked out your favorite colors, giddily holding them as Matty selects a pack of white ones. On the way out, you grab a pack of lighters, one white, one a dark hue of grey. The cashier hands you your change, wishing you a nice rest of your day. With a wide grin on your face, you do the same.

Matty fidgets with the hem of his shirt as the both of you leave the shop. Walking aimlessly, you eventually settle on a park bench, spreading out your supplies. He groans, trying to pick the rhinestones off to glue them on, clearly struggling. You help him, your fingers ghosting over his as you take the plastic sheet out of his hands.

He had taken the black lighter out of the pack, and was now gluing stones onto it with laser-focus, not wanting to mess up. You took the grey one, paring it with pink rhinestones. Your initials brandished the side once you finished.

Matty had done the same, even if the letters were a bit crooked. M.H was glued hastily onto the side of his, some of the rhinestones barely hanging on. He smiled at you as you swapped lighters, now holding his.

It looked exactly like the one you had destroyed. A shiver crept up your spine, memories of that night flashing into your mind. The pure rage you had felt, watching the plastic splinter off onto the pavement. The images of Matty plaguing you.

But that was before. Before he had kissed you. You felt differently now, but still, a feeling of unease spread through your body as you flicked it on and off, watching the flame dissipate.

His hand was touching your, he was saying your name

You look up, your eyes meeting his. He smiles.

“Do you like it? I tried my best to make it not look like shit,” his voice was timid, a hint of insecurity could be heard. “I love it,” you assure him, putting the lighter into your pocket.

“Do you like yours? I know they are not the manliest of colors, but-”

“I love it because you made it, that's all that matters,” he cut you off, his thumb tracing the back of your hand.

You feel your heart flutter at his words, doing backflips in your chest.

He pulled out his red cigarette case, pulling out a baggie filled with weed. The two of you had promised to stay sober today, but you nodded as he asked you if you wanted to smoke. You get out your papes and filters, rolling it for him.

He had stopped making comments, instead watching you lick the spliff closed with such an intensity, you thought you would catch on fire. His eyes bore into you as you lit up, and you hand it to him to take the first drag. How the tables have turned

His lips wrap around the filter, breathing in deeply, letting the sensation take over his body. He hands it to you, his hands shaking slightly. Your lipstick rubs off on the spliff, painting the filter with a red rim.

You hold each other, sitting on the park bench, passing the joint back and forth for what felt like hours, until it dwindled out. The streetlamps had come on, one flickering on and off in the distance. The moon peaked out though the clouds, the blue light only making him look more beautiful.

You observed his face, his eyes drooping slightly as the high took over him. He let out deep breaths, his chest rising and falling slowly. Your fingers were intertwined, his hands felt warm against your skin. Every so often, he would twitch slightly against you.

The sun had almost set, barely even there as night took over the sky. The people in the park had gone home, only the occasional dog walker passing by you, quietly saying hello.

“What are we?” his voice pierced through your heart, making it bleed into your chest.

“I dont know.” you answer, pulling him closer. You stayed like that, your bodies melding together until you both fell asleep, his soft snores filling the empty park

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I just got off the phone with Ross, he wants to hang at their place.” you shout up the stairs. Matty was in the shower, the hot water steaming up the glass of the mirror.

“Sure, we haven't been over there in a while, innit? It’d be nice to have us all in one place again,” he answers, his voice amplified through the echo of the shower.

You were draped across his couch, watching the news. The TV spokesperson droned on, boring you half to death with stock market statistics. You switch it off, sighing as you got up. Opening the door to the bathroom, you see Matty standing in front of you. A grey towel hung low on his waist, barely hanging on. Your breath hitches at the sight.

“Yeah?” he asks, shaving cream covering his face and neck. Jesus Christ.

“I need to do my makeup, move.” you shove him out of the way, riffling through his bathroom drawer, looking for the makeup bag you had left there. Sure enough, you find it, the red material sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the towels and colognes filling the space.

You start doing your eyes, lining your waterline with a deep blue. Matty continues shaving next to you, nearly nicking his skin more than once. You make eye contact in the mirror multiple times, blushing as you look away. God, you're so pathetic.

He scoots past you and makes his way towards his room, presumably to go and change. The urge to follow him is strong, but you stay in your current position, looking at him as he walks away. You hear the bedroom door close, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Finishing up your routine, you go back downstairs and sit on the couch, waiting for Matty. He takes an oddly long time, and you can hear him shuffling around in his room. You wonder what he's doing, absentmindedly playing with the posh table decor his mother had set on the table.

Eventually, deciding he's taking too long, you walk over to the window located in his kitchen and crack it open. Lighting your cigarette, your eyes travel up and down the street. Children ride by on their bikes, their older siblings chasing after them. The occasional family walks by, waving hello at you before returning to their conversation. You ash into the sink.

A little girl makes eye contact with you. She reminds you of yourself, eyes full of innocence and naïveté, her rose colored dress blowing in the wind. You take a drag of your cigarette, watching as she walks by.

“You ready?” a voice says behind you, making you jump, almost banging your head against the wall you were leaning against. You turn around, seeing Matty in front of you. He has your jumper on, the red one. It's freshly washed and pressed, paired with a blue pair of loose fitting jeans. His hair is messy as always, the blonde highlights sticking out, framing his face.

“You need to start giving me my clothes back,” you say, gesturing to his top.

“Only if you cough up mine,” he says with a laugh, pointing at your pants. They were, in fact, his.

“Touché.” you shrug, walking past him, grabbing his wrist to pull him after you. Throwing your cigarette into the trash, the both of you put on your shoes.

It's sunny outside, and you can see Matty sweating in his your jumper, but you don't say anything. You stop by the corner shop on your way there, buying a pack of fags for Matty.

The cashier tucks her hair behind her ears as the both of you walk up to the counter to pay. He asks for parliaments, and she hands them to him

“That’ll be 6 quid,” leaving the sentence open “and your number?” she asks him, batting her eyelashes. The question makes you freeze, eyes on Matty. It seems to take him by surprise, he sucks in a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak:

“Nah, that's alright, this is my girl right here,” he takes your hand, lifting it up. His girl. You nod timidly, and the girl apologizes. “You're so cute together,” she comments, giving you the fakest smile you've ever seen. You shoot one back.

“Jesus, sorry mate, didn't want to let her down too hard. Soz for using you as a cover.” A cover? Was that what that was?

“No big thing, glad my gender could be of service,” you try to sound unbothered, grinning at him the best you can. Your heart deflated in your chest, a weight crushing down on it. You were his mate, not his girl. That was clear now.

The rest of the walk is spent with headphones in your ears. Micheal Jackson's “Bad” played, drowning out your thoughts.

The hallway leading to the flat is cold, the white marble almost too white, like it had been recently cleaned. Matty bangs on the door, yelling at Ross to open up. He does.

“Jesus Matty, there's this thing called a doorbell-” “Stop fucking me off and let us in,” Matty pushes past a very offended Ross, stalking into the livingroom. You trail behind him, seeing George come into your line of sight.

Your breath hitches. This is the first time you’ve seen him since that night. He looked uncomfortable, eyes darting around the room. It smells clean in the flat, and you assume Hann had had another one of his cleaning frenzies.

Adam’s sitting on the sofa, and so was george. They looked tense. Matty was in the kitchen making himself a cup of tea. You sit down next to Hann, watching Ross make himself comfortable on the giant sofa chair. The air is thick, full of something you can't recognise.

“Matty, can you maybe sit down?” Adam says, his voice deep and tired. He obliges, sitting down on the edge of the sofa chair next to Ross. Mattys hand holds the mug of tea, tapping his fingers against the ceramic. George is fidgety next to you, rolling and unrolling his sleeves, letting out uncomfortable coughs every few seconds. You narrow your eyes, cocking your eyebrow at him. He shakes his head.

“We know you’ve been using,” Hann’s voice cuts through the silence. Mattys head perks up.

“Blow? Seriously?”

“What about it?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. Fuck. Matty clears his throat before speaking.

“What she said– what does it matter? It's just blow, nothing special. Everyones on it, y’know.” His voice comes out rough, deep.

“Its fucking horrible, how can you do that to yourselves?” The question comes from George. He told them

“You fucking told them? Are you taking the absolute piss?” you sound harsh, he looks at you with wide eyes. Matty laughs maniacally, setting down his mug on the coffee table. The tea sloshes onto the glass, dirtying it.

“Ohh- I get what this is-” he looks at you, shaking his head. “This, my love,” he gestures to the three men sitting around you “Is their pathetic attempt at an intervention.” You scoff, looking at Ross, who confirms his statement.

“We’re worried about you two, just– “ Matty walks over to you, cutting him off. You get up, nodding at him in silent agreement. You needed to get the fuck out of here. Now.

“Youre all a bunch of fucking tossers, what do you care what we do? It doesn't affect you!”

George speaks up: “Of course it affects us, you're our best mates, for fucks sake.” His voice trails off, seeing you ignore him made his heart hurt. What did they know? They shouldn't fucking talk about things they had no clue about.

“Fuck you guys, honestly,” Matty spat, his eyes full of hatred “C’mon love, they probably don’t want two dirty junkies in their living room, hm?” You're already at the door, pushing it open. Hann yells after you, but you ignore him. Absolute asshole, staging an intervention like you were lost addicts. Fuck him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

You're back at Mattys place. You don't talk about what happened in the flat, you just hold each other. He had switched both of your phones off on the walk back. Adam was calling both of you like a crazy ex, begging you to come back and talk. You ignore him.

The curtains are drawn closed, painting the room in darkness. The only light is coming from the TV neither of you is paying attention to.

“D’you fancy a line?” he asks, grinning down at you. You agree, getting off of him. He cuts two lines, letting you snort yours as he watches. It hits you like a truck, the feeling of pure euphoria. How can something that was ‘bad for you’ be this good? It made no sense. You mentally curse at Adam for trying to act like your parent. He had no fucking right.

Matty started deeply into your eyes as you climbed back on top of him, straddling his lap. Once again, there's purple glitter around his eyes, shimmering in the light of the TV. He smirks at you provocatively, locking your lips with his. He kisses you with passion, moving his lips in sync with yours. He pulls away.

“You,” he starts, punctuating the word with a kiss to the edge of your mouth “are a work of art.”

You smile at his words, threading your hand into his hair, tugging hard. He whimpers into your mouth, twitching beneath you.

“You're hard.” you state, pressing a kiss to his jaw, biting down. He moans again, arching his back.

“I–,” he starts, interrupted by your hand reaching down and squeezing him through his pants. He pulses in your hand, begging. Another pathetic whine, his hips buck into your hand.

An idea pops into your head, and you slowly get off of him. He protests, his eyes watching you stand up next to him. He looks so beautiful like this, breathing heavily and painfully hard.

“I want you to touch yourself for me, Matthew." You can see him twitch as the words leave your lips.

"Go on, give me a show.”

#y'all weren't ready for this #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #tw:drugs #matty the 1975 #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x you #matty x you

50 notes · View notes

fallingforunrealisticromance · 10 months

Text

Send you away - 10th doctor x reader!

A/N: I'd apologise for disappearing off the face of the earth, but it'll probably happen again. I've been in the biggest writing slump, I genuinely can't remember the last time i wrote something new. Even this story is old, but i've made a lot of adjustments so it's half new i guess. If you sent in a request, it will get done and posted!! It just might take me longer than intended.

Word count: 1989

Warnings: None

------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Doctor.” You called after him as he stormed towards the console.

But he continued to ignore you. As he’d been doing for the past five minutes.

“Doctor this is getting really childish now.” You sighed, leaning against the railing.

He begun flicking a bunch of different switches, busying himself with the console as the TARDIS begun to take off. You were growing increasingly more aggravated. You didn’t even know what you’d done to warrant this behaviour from him. One moment the two of you were exploring a new planet he’d taken you too, then the next thing you knew there had been an attack of some sort. And this being the doctor’s life, of course he ran to the rescue. Somewhere along the line the aliens causing the attack had captured you. It took the doctor almost 3 hours to find you. They’re ship was full of intricate tunnels leading to a million different sections. By the time the doctor reached you, you were worn out. They hadn’t hurt you too bad. Only a few punches here and there, but it was apparently enough to form big purple bruises all over you. Other than that you were fine. That’s what you told the doctor at least. Thinking back to it now, that’s when he’d stopped answering you. He’d saved you and then just sort of stopped. He couldn’t be angry at you because of that. Right? It’s not like you asked to be kidnapped. It’s not even like you went out looking for trouble – you’d stayed by his side the whole time.

“Doctor.” You tried once more, your voice coming out a lot harsher now.

Still no response.

“Jesus Christ, 903 years old you’d think you’d have matured by now” You mumbled.

Once again you were met with nothing but the hum of the TARDIS. He was getting on your last nerve at this point. How did he expect you to fix whatever it was he was mad at you about if he wouldn’t tell you what the problem was?

“For god’s sake, TALK TO ME” You yelled, finally snapping. His eyes snapped to meet yours, seemingly taken back by your sudden change in tone. “I don’t see what I’ve done to piss you off so much, but you can’t just stand there and wait for me to figure it out.” You ranted moving towards him.

His face remained as cold as ever, unwavering as he watched you.

“I didn’t ask for them to take me. For them to make me think I was never going to see you again. So if your angry at me because of that, then you have absolutely no right. I did nothing wrong. So don’t stand there and ignore me. Either talk to me or get over yourself.” You prodded his chest with your finger as you finished your sentence.

His hand moved to grab your wrist, causing your anger to fade for a moment. You stared up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.

“Talk to me.” You said, your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes flickered with a wave of torment. As if his mind was waging a war over what to say to you. Whatever it was, it broke your heart.

“No.” He replied, letting your hand fall and walking away from you.

You stood in your spot momentarily frozen before your brain processed what he’d said.

“No? What the hell do you mean no? Doctor you can’t expect me to just know why your mad at me-“

“I’m not mad at you” He cut you off, leaning forward on the railing with his back to you.

That confused you. Slowly you stepped closer to him. “

If you’re not mad at me, why won’t you talk to me?” Your voice was coming out a lot softer than before.

The doctor sighed as he dropped his head to rest in his hands. “I’m mad at myself. I should have protected you” He mumbled.

Your heart burned hearing the sorrow laced in his tone. You hated when he got like this. He caved in on himself, allowing the guilt to overwhelm and consume him.. The man in front of you carried the weight of worlds on his shoulder’s day in, day out and chose to blame himself no matter the outcome. Even in situations he had no control over. When in fact he was just one man. An extraordinary one at that. But nonetheless he was one man. And you knew he shouldn’t try to take on as much as he did.

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know it was going to happen.” You said reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

But he quickly whipped around to face you, anger in his eyes.

“YES I DID” He yelled.

You stumbled back, not prepared for his reaction.

“This is always what happens. Every single time and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It happened to Rose, Martha, donna. Even to mickey. No matter how hard I try, how much I care – I can never stop losing them.” He seethed, pacing up and down.

You watched him silently, not daring to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.

“It hurt with them. So much. But you” He stopped, turning to face you. “Losing you would break me more than I care to imagine” He breathed.

You stared at the man you’d fallen in love with, breaking at the seams right in front of you.

“You won’t lose me.” You replied, stepping closer once again.

He rolled his eyes.

“No listen to me. You won’t lose me doctor. I refuse to leave you alone. Because I know how much it hurts, to feel so utterly alone in the world. To feel that there is no one out there to care or love you. No one to make you feel safe.” You moved closer still, taking his hands in yours.

“That was me when you found me. And you showed me a whole new life doctor. And I’m not just talking about the stars and the aliens, none of that. You showed me what it’s like to feel wanted, to feel needed. Whether you intended to or not, you made me feel loved.” You said, tears threatening to spill. You avoided his gaze, choosing to focus on his hands in yours.

“You fixed me. And all the demons we seem to stumble across, they’re worth enduring for a life with you. So I will not leave you.” You concluded, finally looking back at him.

His brow was furrowed, as if he couldn’t understand your feelings. But just as quickly as before, his cold deminer returned.

“You will. If you stay.” His words stung, causing you to recoil.

At the loss of contact, his face fell. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he couldn’t lose you the way he had with the others. He needed you safe, no matter how much it pained him.

“Y-you want me to leave?” You stuttered.

It felt like the wind had just been knocked from your lungs. It had never even crossed your mind that he might not want you there. The doctor rushed towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“No. No I really don’t. You mean more to me then anything in the world”

You wrapped your arms around him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Knowing you has been the greatest gift the universe could’ve given me. I was hurting, just as you were. But you healed me.” He explained.

You chuckled against him. “I guess we work pretty well for each other then.”

“I suppose so.” He replied, smiling to himself.

“I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” He said, pulling away from you.

Your face fell at the loss of his body against yours.

“Please don’t send me away. I have nothing to go back to.” You whimpered.

“I don’t want to. But I need you safe.” He whispered, his voice cracking.

Tears were now streaming down both of your faces.

“I’m safe with you” You replied, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He moved towards you, cupping your face in his hands.

“I can’t promise you that.” He rested his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to. Just please. Let me stay” You were practically sobbing at this point.

You could feel his hesitance, but you really couldn’t leave. There was nowhere for you to go. The TARDIS was your home now.

“Please doctor. I love you please don’t.” You begged breathlessly.

The doctor tensed at your words. He pulled away, still holding your face, to look at you.

“W-what did you say?” He stammered.

You were too tired to try and lie. You gently placed your hand over his, nuzzling against it.

“I love you.” You whispered.

There was a tense moment as the doctor just looked at you. Just as you went to move away from embarrassment, the doctor crashed his lips against yours. You froze for a moment unable to respond. That was the last thing you’d expected him to do. The doctor mistook your actions as regret, so he begun to pull away, trying to turn away from you. That snapped you from your thoughts.

“No” You cried as you grabbed him, pulling his lips back to yours.

His arm flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him while the other cradled your face in his hands. You had one arm round his neck, your fingers getting lost in his brown mess of hair, while the other clutched at his jacket. The kiss was so full of passion, the two of you seizing every opportunity to explore each other. You didn’t even realise you’d been moving backwards until your back hit the railing. He leaned further into you, as if it was even possible. Eventually you pulled away from one another. You rested your forehead against his, your eyes remaining closed as you breathlessly cherished the feeling. You already missed him on your lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that” The doctor whispered, causing a smile to crawl its way onto your face.

You opened your eyes and pulled away to look up at him.

“Oh I think I do. It’s been a rather tiring process”

He raised his eyebrows at you quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know how frustrating it is to be pining after a certain time lord you spend every day with?” You said laughing.

“Well seeing as your not a time lord. No, no I don’t” He replied smiling. “But I do know that I’ve been falling in love with you since I met you. It scared me at first. I’m not used to feeling this way.” He admitted softly.

Your eyes softened at the thought of him not getting the love you knew he deserved.

“But I came to realise it’s not a bad thing. The effect you have on me, it’s indescribable. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

You were positively blushing at this point. He brushed his thumb slowly across your crimson cheeks as he stared down at you, holding nothing but pure overpowering love for you in his eyes.

“I am head over heels in love with you. And it means everything to me that you feel the same.”

You smiled brightly at him. “I love you Doctor. So much.”

“I know.” He said before leaning down and capturing your lips in yet another kiss.

This one was a lot shorter and sweeter but full of love, nonetheless. You rested against him, enjoying the warmth his arm provided. Life with the doctor was not without its difficulties, but knowing he loved you the way you loved him made the whole thing a lot more bearable.

#the doctor #doctor who #10th doctor #the doctor x reader #doctor who fan art #dr who #david tennet #tenth doctor

93 notes · View notes

sleepingdeath-light · 3 months

Text

lord oyster cookie smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; (totally not) 🍾 anon (12/08/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; lord oyster cookie

outline ; “lord oyster smut and relationship hcs ~ (undercover 🍾)”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, submissive leaning switch!lord oyster cookie, praise kink, pussy/cock drunk!lord oyster cookie, oral sex (amab and afab receiving), overstimulation, bondage, clothed sex, marking kink

note ; shaky characterisation as i’ve never written for him before — but i hope that you enjoy this piece regardless

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

whilst lord oyster cookie is a switch and gets off more on pleasuring you than being pleasured himself, he does have a pretty distinct lean towards submission — and when he is taking on a submissive role in the bedroom he’s incredibly obedient and pretty much lives to earn your adoration and praise

especially praise, because the quickest way to get this man to his knees is to call him anything from ‘good boy’ to ‘pretty boy’ to ‘darling’ — bonus points if preface any of that praise with ‘my’ because he absolutely loves feeling desired and adored

(and he also loves being able to hand over the control to you and let you take care of him, and everything else, after long voyages out to sea — he may love his work as a ship hand, but even lord oyster cookie can admit that it can get exhausting and his imagination and hands can only go so far…)

as mentioned above, he 100% gets off on pleasuring you and has been known to get absolutely drunk off of your taste and reactions whenever he goes down on you [split]

[afab] it never takes long from the moment his tongue first darts out from between his lips to taste your slick before he’s desperately groping at your hips, waist, thighs, and ass in an effort to pull you impossibly close to his mouth — all the while moaning, groaning, and grinding his straining cock against you/the surface beneath you as he eats you out (and if you don’t stop him, this poor man will just keep going until you’re both sobbing, your cunt is clenching around nothing, and everything from his nose to his shirt collar is drenched in your cum)

[amab] the longer the two of you stay together, the less and less apparent his gag reflex becomes because he’s just so damn eager to please that he trains it out of himself — soon enough he’s taking all of you into his mouth at once, hollowing his cheeks and moaning and humming and groaning around you all in return for the rewarding feeling of your hands entangling in his hair and your hips bucking up into his mouth, all the while massaging and toying with your balls in the way you like (he’ll happily stay between your legs until you physically can’t cum anymore if you let him — and he looks so damn pretty when he’s knelt between your thighs, mouth stuffed with cock and hips rutting up into the air in his desperation, that it’s a struggle to bring yourself to make him stop)

this applies to both but if you ever wear skirts/dresses/any sort of flowing clothes along those lines without any undergarments beneath it and let him know that in some subtle way then this poor man is going to go bright red and start spouting excuses to get you somewhere private so that he can lift up those skirts and get his mouth on you as soon as possible

he knows a thing or two about tying things up and he isn’t completely opposed to bringing those skills into the bedroom if you ask (whether that means tying you up or teaching you proper rope etiquette so you can safely tie him up instead) but, as with all kinks that carry any sort of risk with them, he makes sure that you’re both safe, comfortable, enthusiastic, and know what you’re doing before moving forwards with incorporating it

finds the sight of you in one of his shirts (or his jacket) and nothing else to be incredibly attractive and will go completely red in the face and speechless if you decide to surprise him in such attire — just give him a moment or two to regain his composure and you’ll get exactly what you want… he just needs some time to commit the view to memory first

he wouldn’t be comfortable with inviting anyone else to your marital bed unless it’s someone you’re already both involved with in a romantic sense — he doesn’t do casual hookups and wouldn’t be comfortable entertaining any of your fantasies that involve such a thing (he’s up for a lot of experimentation, really, this is just something that he can’t do for you)

when it comes to what position he prefers, lord oyster cookie is very traditional and is more than happy to stick with missionary (both when bottoming and topping) — you can hold hands, kiss, and see each other come undone without much struggle or strain and it just feels so very intimate that he can’t help but love it

though, of course, he’s fine with switching things up every now and then so long as his preferred position remains on the table as an option he can fall back on with you

his thighs are extremely sensitive and, consequently, the best place to mark if you want to make this poor man squirm and buckle under his efforts to not make all of those pretty sounds you love — of course things like kiss marks will make him tremble and gasp in the moment, but the real fun comes if you leave marks that last (e.g. sucking dark hickeys onto his inner thighs, or biting just hard enough to make him let out a moan far louder than he intended) because then you get to see him spend the next few days all beautifully flustered whenever he catches a glimpse of your handiwork (he loves them, really he does, but he can’t help but be glad you decided to mark him somewhere that can be reasonably hidden — he does have a reputation to uphold and he dreads to think what would happen if another sailor caught sight of them for whatever reason)

#sleepingdeath #🍾 anon #minors dni #minors will be blocked #ageless blogs dni #ageless blogs will be blocked #gender neutral reader #smut #smut hcs #crk smut #crk x reader #cookie run smut #cookie run x reader #lord oyster cookie smut #lord oyster cookie x reader

23 notes · View notes

solar-tl-27 · 5 months

Note

Do you have more original characters to introduce in your version of Winx?

I got a bunch!

I mostly make the original characters to either combine several character plots into one. Or help build the new lore I’m building!

Most of these will be slightly familiar!

1. Blush

Blush is a character i’ll be adding along roxy in my version of season 4

She’s made to further the earth plot line & enrich the team, basically roxy’s specialist but just friends

2. Azrail

Azrail is my version of archeron, he did so little in the canon i just went.. ok bu5 what if i flat out replace him. And now we have az! She will be a far more involved villain and i just really enjoy drawing her!

3. Malcolm

My version of brandon’s dad, another character i… very much enjoy drawing. He’s an important character in the eraklyon lore! He’s kind of a bad dad but he’s overall good at his job!

4. Zoof

Behold… klashara 😅 or what’s left of her animal form. Kalshara will still be a character in my version however her story sadly did end during the time she & faragonda went to school. So in my version we have zoof! An absolute mascot of a little guy. Zoof was originally kal’s fairy animal but due to her disappearance they are now faragonda’s fairy animal and a little bit of a school mascot!

5. Har

Harmony or Har is flora’s older brother & guardian, he’s not an often appearing character but he’s a bio scientist in Lymphea

6. Cryos

Cryos is technically already a character that existed but basically all that’s left of him with my version.. is his name. So i do count my cryos as original.

He’s basically just a kid who’s got the dna of the old king of zenith (it’s giving hunter from toh)

And he’s basically just used for his magical properties until the winx help him out

7. Senator Blanche Tidell

Tidell is the curent senator of the engineering high commission of zenith. A character of high importantce in the zenith & andros season of my rewrite. Former head researcher for an archeological expedition into cave systems from old zenith, but she now seems to have 0 interest in the old zenith’s mysteries.. or it’s appointed guardian fairy.

8. Eryx

Eryx is the on call doctor for alfea, red fountain & cloud tower. He’s also tecna’s guardian sho she had somewhere to go when not at alfea. Eryx also originates from zenith and was a well known geneticist & researcher before switching to a career path as a on call doctor. However it seems his past has started to haunt him with senator Tidell’s ideology .

That’s all I have for now! There probably will be more in the future to help with lore building, but this is all I have rn!

#winx #winx club #winx rewrite #winx reignited

18 notes · View notes

iamthecomet · 1 year

Note

Little behind the scenes fact about Overflow; Originally, Swiss was going to help Rain get with Dew, and it was going to be more of a three-way thing, but there was something about Rain being down on his knees and just absolutely lost his want for Dew on his own that made me go, "Nah, Rainy's gotta face this battle alone."

I think the natural conclusion is Rain just absolutely worshiping Dew in bedroom to the point that he goes from sort of submissive in a "boss me around" kind of way, to more of a service top in a "I'm gonna take such good care of you" sense.

In other words, he might be Dew's "good boy" but somewhere along the line the switch gets flipped and Rain is looking down at Dew, all red in the face, mouth open slightly as he gasps and moans and he's suddenly going, "Who's my pretty girl~?"

And he's, like, one of the only people who can get away with it and live to tell the tale, because, yeah, yeah, Dew is his girl, because he makes him feel a certain way when he does it/says that that only works because he's him, because he's Rain.

He's Dew's good boy, and that means it's okay, because he trusts him and knows he'll take good care of him and let him slip into that mindset safely.

That said, Dew absolutely rails him and makes him cry in return, like, "It's your turn."

Anyway, to bed I go.

LAMODPSFAAHSUDA Overflow ruined me in the best way. Rain being so upfront to the others about what he wanted. Being unable to think about anything but Dew. The way he just kneels for Dew and asks for it. It absolutely tracks that Rain's version of being a good boy is taking care of Dew. Making him feel good and overwhelmed, taking him apart in ways Dew doesn't allow anyone else to even come close to. The inherent trust between them makes me fucking insane. So of course Dew rails him and makes him cry. That's what Dew wants after all. And Rain is, always, his good boy.

#comet comments #lamp #raindrop #AJHDSFas

54 notes · View notes

soriastrider · 1 year

Text

so my brain has been consumed by thoughts of a dirkjake doctor who au for the past like full day and ive been rambling about it in discord so im gonna post some of it here too

so we have

time lord dirk, where jake is his tardis. dirk's not like a direct substitution for the doctor plot-wise but there are definitely similarities

his official time lord title is "Prince" along the lines of doctor, master, etc. but he only really uses that for formal stuff. otherwise he goes by "timaeus" except to very close friends, so he's still got the one-name mysterious space guy (tm) thing going on lol

jake happily messes with his own chameleon circuits to make himself look like ships from his favorite movies and whatnot (dirk, exasperated: dude this is supposed to be a stealth operation. you can’t go in looking like the millennium falcon)

can jake project a humanoid version of himself? there is extreme angst potential if not, but also i am weak and i want them to be able to hug lol. so i'd say he probably can, at least sometimes? maybe dirk figures out how to make it work, idk. we'll see

anyway the main idea is dirk running around the universe having adventures and making friends while being desperately in love with his spaceship boyfriend :)

(thank you to everyone in discord who has been indulging my nonsense and giving me ideas haha)

also roxy and jane would make such great companions, especially roxy. i'll put this under a cut because it's kinda long (and a bit suggestive lol)

so like

dirk meets roxy and they become friends. she definitely figures out something is up with him and eventually gets him to admit he’s an alien. he sometimes mentions his boyfriend but he’s cagey about it, and roxy is so curious. eventually dirk offers to take her somewhere in his tardis and of course she says yes, that sounds fuckin awesome. and when they get into the ship dirk smiles a bit and says something just a little too affectionate to jake as he’s setting coordinates, and roxy instantly knows

she points at dirk like oh my god. you’re fucking your ship. holy shit this is your boyfriend?? and dirk, who pointedly does not want to talk about this because he knows she will never let him hear the end of it, is just like what no. idk what you’re talking about. roxy’s like no dude you just made an emotion on your face, that ain’t normal

and jake decides to be a menace and just says hello miss roxy, dirk’s told me about you! it’s so nice to meet you! also i am the one fucking him :)

dirk chokes on air and roxy laughs so hard she almost asphyxiates herself

anyway roxy immediately starts pointing at levers and switches and asking dirk "sooo what do you use this for?" *eyebrow wiggle* "what do you really do with that 'sonic screwdriver?' ;)"

dirk nearly perishes

(but also. there is additional extreme angst potential in the fact that dirk would be absolutely devastated to lose his companion-friends...)

#dirkjake #dirk strider #jake english #doctor who au #sdjfajskdfsd

111 notes · View notes

shieldmaiden-tabris · 9 months

Text

You wanna know what really kills me?

Heaven was never going to leave Aziraphale and Crowley alone. After what they did, there's no way they could. Crowley and Aziraphale didn't just go rogue. They openly defied Heaven and Hell, gave middle fingers to the Great Plan, and walked away with no consequences. They showed that Heaven doesn't have as much control as they claim. Their continued existence threatens the fragile status quo that Heaven has painstakingly worked to maintain over 6,000 years. If Heaven is to salvage what remains of the Great Plan as they see it, their next plan cannot have any uncontrolled variables, and Crowley and Aziraphale are as uncontrollable as it gets.

Heaven needed to find a way to eliminate Crowley and Aziraphale to prevent them from ever interfering with their plans again. However, it can't be as simple as just killing them.

When Aziraphale and Crowley survived their attempted executions, they became an even bigger problem. Hell made a huge mistake in choosing to make Crowley's trial a spectacle. While "Crowley" splashed around in Holy Water in front of a demonic audience, Beelzebub immediately went into damage control mode so riots wouldn't break out, but by then, it was too late. Too many demons saw that Hell had lost control of one of their own and any remaining power Hell had over Crowley vanished. Crowley absolutely knows this. Look at the way he responds when directly threatened in season 2. When Beelzebub threatens Crowley in episode 1, he doesn't react at all, it's like he doesn't even hear it. When Shax says that he'll be, "hunted and eliminated by Hell," in episode 2, Crowley gives such a nonreaction that Shax even says, "So you understand that I'm threatening you?" Even then, he just revs the engine until she leaves. The threats are empty.

Heaven's saving grace was that only the Archangels were present during Aziraphale's attempted execution. Only they, the angels in power, know that the Hellfire didn't work and they aim to keep it that way. If on the off chance anyone asks why Aziraphale went unpunished for his role in stopping Armageddon, all they need to say is that, "oh, he's been forgiven by God, who has decided to be merciful and x, y, z, so on and soforth," or something along those lines that supports the idea that Heaven is still Good and nothing is wrong and do not look at the man behind the curtain, so to speak.

Neither Heaven nor Hell have reason to suspect Crowley and Aziraphale switched bodies, so I highly doubt they would risk trying the same methods again unless they're entirely certain it would succeed. (Yes, Crowley spilled the secret to Gabriel while drunk, which I do think is going to come into play in season 3, but given that Gabriel never had the chance to tell Heaven and is now off somewhere with Beelzebub, as of the season 2 finale, the other angels and demons still don't know.)

If Crowley and Aziraphale can't be destroyed, then Heaven's only alternative is to separate them somehow. Physically forcing them apart would have been out of the question from the start. Crowley and Aziraphale displayed pretty impressive power performing that miracle on Gabriel, and when you couple that with the idea that they can't be destroyed by Holy Water or Hellfire, that's more than a little threatening. If they were forced apart, I can guarantee there is nothing in Heaven or Hell that could keep them separate.

So mutual separation it is. But how?

Enter, the Metatron.

I've seen a few posts pointing out that Crowley was the only one who recognized the Metatron in the bookshop and how such familiarity is possibly a hint to his former rank in Heaven. But what if Crowley knows the Metatron for another reason? I keep thinking back to the scene with Crowley and Aziraphale on the mountain, watching as Job talks directly to God. While Aziraphale looks on in awe, Crowley looks confused, maybe even envious and a little hurt. Consider the next few lines of dialogue:

Crowley: "Is God actually..." Aziraphale: "I think so." Crowley: "...talking to him?" Aziraphale: "I don't suppose he's getting any answers." Crowley: "No. But just to be able to ask the question..."

We know Crowley Fell for asking questions, but what if he never talked directly to God? What if he asked those questions to the voice of God, the Metatron? And what if the Metatron was one of the last faces he saw before he Fell? That would certainly leave an impression, no doubt.

I think the Metatron already knew Crowley wouldn't accept Heaven's offer because he knows what questions Crowley asked. He knows Crowley has never been one to blindly follow orders like Heaven demands. Crowley doesn't want to be a pawn anymore, he's never wanted to be a pawn in the first place. He's left Heaven and Hell behind to stand firmly on his own side and make his own decisions. Aziraphale on the other hand, still believes in Heaven's goodness. He thinks the rest of the Heavenly Host has just lost their way and longs to change the system from the inside. The Metatron is now using that faith to get him away from Crowley and back under Heaven's thumb by offering him a chance to change things in Heaven.

First, he defended Aziraphale when the Archangels were being bullies in the bookshop. Then, he offered Aziraphale coffee.

Oh, my god, the coffee... As soon as I saw it, I knew exactly what he was doing.

The coffee was a manipulation tactic to establish a commonality between himself and Aziraphale and distinguish the Metatron from the other angels by saying, "see? I'm like you." The use of drinks this season has been SUPER interesting to observe. When Gabriel appears at the bookshop, Aziraphale offers him hot chocolate. Before losing his memory, Gabriel wouldn't have touched the stuff. Later, Aziraphale offers Muriel a cup of tea and Muriel has no idea what to do with it. The Metatron's offering of coffee is the first time another angel has offered Aziraphale a drink. An offering of sorts.

The next thing the Metatron did was to physically separate Aziraphale from Crowley. And the look, the LOOK the Metatron gave Crowley when Aziraphale walked ahead... The moment the Metatron was able to get Aziraphale alone, he knew he'd got him. He took Aziraphale away from his support and then offered him a chance to make a difference.

"So predictable," the Metatron says to Nina in the coffee shop.

And he was right. He knew Aziraphale would accept his offer, just like he knew Crowley would refuse.

Heaven got their wish. Crowley and Aziraphale are separated. It took the Voice of God coming down from Heaven to do it, but it happened.

I don't know what Heaven has planned for Aziraphale. Maybe they plan to attempt to indoctrinate him again, or maybe they plan to keep him so busy with tedious tasks so he's out of the way of the real work they're doing. We'll just have to wait and see.

I do know one thing. Aziraphale will come back to Crowley. They won't be apart for too long. They will be on their own side, together at last, the two of them against Heaven and Hell at the end of all things and after. Of that, I'm certain.

#Good Omens #Good Omens 2 #Good Omens spoilers #spoilers #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale #Anthony J Crowley #ugh i hate and love my rambles

23 notes · View notes

heresathreebee · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson | Stranger Things 4 || Prompt A/B/O // Floor Sex

Pre-Season 4; 1.7k words (short fic IMO); NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Swearing, Play Fighting, Eddie and Reader Are Both Perverts, Shameless Flirting, Pet Names, Carrying, Tickling, Ruined Clothes, Biting, Pinned Down, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it PLEASE), Choking (mild), Pulling Out, First Kiss

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Tom Grant Anal

You and Eddie were just play-wrestling. It was an honored pastime that you had been engaging in since you were both in diapers. It got a little rocky when you both hit puberty– you got bigger than him first and lorded it over him right up until his growth spurt hit and the roles were reversed. But somewhere along the lines, you two called a truce and found a happy medium where it’s just good, wholesome fun.

Yeah... wholesome...

Very wholesome, how he throws off his jacket and flexes the lean muscles of his arms. While he’s slipping out of the chain for his wallet and tying his bandana to keep his hair out of his eyes, you throw your oversized sweater aside and reveal a brand-new, fairly fitted top with a low neckline underneath it. Fuck, you're grown up now…

“No biting this time,” Eddie warns you, fully aware that you will absolutely bite him out of spite, probably moreso than if you hadn’t been told not to.

“You better have showered today, Munson, I’m not looking to be suffocated by your stench.”

“Oh please, you love my stench,” he jokes.

You throw an orange from the bowl on the kitchen counter and hit him square in the groin. Eddie immediately drops his wallet and groans, piercing you to the spot with a mean glare. Once his shoes were flying, you bent your knees and waited to see his next move as the fight began.

“Watch your ass, princess, you’re dealing with a champ,” Eddie said as he circled you, slowly switching places in the open floor between the ‘living room’ and the kitchen area.

You rolled your eyes-- which turned out to be a mistake. Eddie rushed you and swallowed you in his arms. You squealed in surprise but recovered quick enough to try dropping to your knees.. and instead getting your head caught as he tries to keep a hold of you so you must bite his belly to free yourself. You catch a mouthful of cotton shirt and have no time to react as Eddie sits down on your shoulders, forcing a startled laugh out of you.

“Get your fat ass off of me, Eddie!”

You pushed up on his thighs and managed to free yourself, landing Eddie flat on his butt and tackling him onto his back. Instantly, you spread your legs as wide and as stiffly as you could to stop him from flipping your positions and gaining the upper hand. You both cackled madly as you held on for dear life.

“What the hell are you doing?,” Eddie laughed when he figured out how you were muscling him into submission. Instead of answering, you buried your face into his chest and fought off his attempts to tickle you. It's no use because your legs fold as soon as he smacks your ass, and then he flips you over so he's on top.

“Fucker,” you growl playfully as he traps your arms.

“Fuck who?,” he teases you with a tantilizing thrust of his hips. “Don’t think I didn’t notice this– ” Eddie’s calloused hands smacked your bare thigh so hard it stings. “-never seen this little number before. Looks good on you, sugar.”

“Easy tiger,” you caution even as your cheeks heat up (your skirt was also new and incredibly revealing), “I’m starting to think you’re flirting with me.”

You wriggle an arm free when he’s not looking and grapple his head. Immediately, you yelp when you feel his teeth sink into your breast. You secretly loved when Eddie was rough with you, it was hard to get it out of him simply because he was just that good at knowing how much was too much for you.

Eddie tries to free himself from your hold by climbing to his hands and knees, but as soon as your legs are free, you swing them up, under, and over– one leg hooking over his shoulder and the other under his right arm.

You simultaneously pull his arm up to your face and close your thighs around him, effectively trapping him in a headlock. The way he looks up at you makes you squeeze your thighs tighter involuntarily. Eddie flexes his trapped arm and you use both hands to hold him still. He's fucking strong, but you have the advantage.

"You can tap out," you sing mischievously.

"And miss this pretty view?," he replies, "never."

Damn those long dancer’s legs of his. He can't break out of your hold, but he can sit up and drag you into his lap somehow, even when you squeeze him again. He tsks at you like you are a disobedient pet and not a best friend he has a lot of sexual tension with.

“I’m gonna count to three,” he warns you.

Suddenly you feel the creeping touch of his other hand on your lower back, but your own are preoccupied with disabling one arm (and fuck, the way the muscles ripple as he flexes to keep you that way…)

“One.”

Eddie smirks and you feel his breath caress your stomach where your shirt is riding up.

“Two.”

His fingers creep lower on your back, grazing the elastic band of your underwear and lower, edging towards your core where you need him the most.

"Three–"

Without further warning, Eddie stands– actually stands up to his full height– bearing all of your weight as he goes. You scream, having been so distracted by his fingers you forgot to hold your position and start slip away, limbs flailing helplessly. Luckily, Eddie anticipated your reaction, and he catches you upside down, with one arm around your waist. It's embarrassing both how loud you were and how turned on you currently are.

And now you're on full display for him to see the wetness seeping through your panties.

"Eddie!" You cry as he smacks your clothed sex and lets you dangle dangerously over the hardwood floor. "Please! Put me down!"

"Ah, is princess scared?," Eddie teases. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

And in a flash, the image of the world around you blurs until you are unexpectedly face to face with the prettiest fucking metalhead you've ever seen.

He must have flipped you over, I mean obviously, right? Now his hands were planted under your thighs and yours were fisted into his shirt, no doubt stretching it. You gulped air as you tried to calm down and marveled at his strength (ignoring the smug expression on his face).

"Hi," you pant.

"Hi," he chuckles back and starts to let you down on your feet. "Round two?"

"But who won– HEY" You yelp as you feel your ripped underwear sliding down your legs to your ankles. When did they break?!

You turned your back on him to try and catch the scraps-- yet another mistake.

Eddie wraps his arm around your throat and brings you to your knees, then he's hovering over your back as he presses your face into the floor. Now that you are bare below, you can feel the rough denim of Eddie's black jeans against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. There's not much movement allowed in this position which has your heart suddenly pounding.

And with practiced ease, Eddie opens his button and fly (he went commando today) and rubs the flushed head of his cock against your wet folds. When he finally breaches your walls, a needy groan rips through your chest and you bury your face into the carpeted floor of the living room you are splayed halfway across. Eddie moans too, his chest warm and rumbling against your back as he bottoms out.

“Love playing with you like this, princess,” Eddie growls in your ear. “Nothing makes me feel so good…”

"Eddie, move. Don't you wanna win?"

You are already circling your hips to gain some friction and loving the way his arm tightens around your throat. You can breathe fine, but stars start to dance in your vision as the blood flow to your brain is yielding to the pressure. Eddie’s hips barely lift off of your butt yet he drives into you deep as you both find the rhythm.

Just as your toes start to curl, Eddie grunts again into your ear. “You just gonna take it, princess? Just gonna let me win, huh?”

You answered him by shaking your head enough to loosen his hold and biting his hairy forearm so hard that he thrusts get a lot rougher with you.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, “fight back.”

Groaning, your teeth dig harder into his flesh until you think you taste copper. The next thing you know, Eddie rips his arm free and uses it to press your head down. Not one to be outdone, you struggle, lifting yourself on your knees to try and buck him off. Eddie uses both hands to hold your hips, drag you back, and spear you on his cock to keep you from crawling away.

"Oh fuck Eddie!" You shriek as he hits something deep inside you. And ever the observant, Eddie takes it upon himself to hit it over and over and over and over.

He's pulled you backwards into his lap and your arms give out under you so fast you almost slam your forehead into the floor. The intensity of his thrusts are starting to overwhelm you and you squirm, both trying to get away from it and get closer as your orgasm builds to a peak.

Just as your pussy starts spasming, Eddie pulls out and flips you over onto your back again and jerks his hand over cock until he finishes, ruining another one of your nicest shirts. He loves watching you come– even at the expense of feeling it. Mercifully he doesn't leave you completely hanging and rubs gentle circles on your clit to ease you down from your high.

Sweat covers every inch of your body making your shirt stick to your skin and reveal your bra underneath. Eddie admires how exhausted you are– and it's all because of him. You crack open your eyes and give him a lazy smile so sweet he has no choice but to return it.

"I win, right," you chuckle. "I came first, so I won."

"Nope, I win," Eddie says and flicks your nose. "I made you come."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Oh? I'm starting to think this game doesn't have real rules anymore. Care to fill me in again?"

"Oh, I'd love to give you another demonstration if you're up for it," Eddie says.

And then he's kissing you, for the first time, and you can't pretend anymore that you are just friends now.

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Tom Grant Anal

Thank you for reading! I have other Eddie fics on the way if you're looking for more! You can find out when as the Masterlist is updated ;)

#three bees writing #kinktober 2022 challenge #tppkinktober2022 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn character fiction #black reader insert

131 notes · View notes

kalims · 2 years

Note

Totally not love language prompt for T*ey A*e and A*ul ahahahahha- heh- hah-

hey rosa…

...hey honey 🤨

<- back to event page.

includes: trey clover, ace trapolla & azul ashengrotto.

18. love languange — how they show love.

the character limit was supposed to be two but since ily and you only asked for one prompt I'll make an exception 🙄

✧ trey clover.

giving : gift giving.

as we all know trey is basically a god to every single one of the dessert lovers and this applies to the food lovers as well. he's really good at baking stuff since he basically grew up with it. give him a recipe of something he'd never baked before and I guarantee you; he will make that shit absolutely bomb.

we can consider his desserts as one of his gifts. due to his kindness, which was already something rare to be found in NRC. he probably often gave away the extra baked goods to people on the street or their neighbors whenever it was time to close down the shop and get rid of the desserts.

even in NRC he still gives desserts to people he personally knows, sometimes just cause he's feeling like appreciating then and you're no exception. this is usually paired with using his unique magic to give them a taste of sweet home, something that makes them happy. even if it is temporary it just makes him more surprisingly popular along with his status as vice-dorm leader.

he's a pretty forward guy at times and just outright asks you your favorite desserts. the next day he already has a package in his bag, and the day after tomorrow, basically alternating days to give you sweets that won't affect your diet much. he knows it's nice to treat yourself once in a while.

but he does switch up their taste every now and then, it's tiring to taste the same thing over and over again after all. (I still eat hawaiian pizza after eating it for like months.)

✧ ace trapolla.

giving : physical touch.

I argue that ace would be very touchy whenever he's around someone he likes romantically. he always has got to have his shoulders bumping into yours when you walk together to class, playfully shoving you sideways with his side and laughing when you actually fall from the ground to suprise and the force.

if not from that occurrence then his way of greeting you is popping up from somewhere and casually sliding an arm over your shoulder. it's both a common romantic and platonic gesture that happens in NRC, and it just so happens he does the same with people shorter than him so there's not much suspicions.

he's surprisingly subtle at hiding his feelings, a contrast to the first day of you met him. he's only probably hiding it so well because the feelings are actually deep. but he can be pretty open about it if he puts his mind on it.

generally he just enjoys the rare feeling of intimacy cause it makes him feel like he's one of the rare people that can touch, feel, and see you close contact in person.

and maybe it's just another way of showing people that you're clearly occupied with someone else.

✧ azul ashengrotto.

giving : acts of service.

azul is pretty used to giving his services to his 'clients' even if they end up completely wrapped around his fingers. no matter how big or small, if someone asks him for a favor; in exchange for a contract of course. he always gets it done, no complaints, no disturbances.

it just so happens that there's no silver lining when you request him for something like helping understand a piece of information you couldn't in class. he's honestly just happy enough if he can offer you his help, because it's top tier and you'd go to nowhere else right?

he supposes in his own way, he likes it so much because it keeps you close at arms length. it can be viewed as a red flag on his part but when was he ever green anyways? he literally scams people 💀

^ adding to that its more like some kind of secret competitiveness to show you that you can depend on him anytime to help you with any kind of problem. it helps his self esteem grow when you ignore an offer of the top in your class to study and go to him instead.

he's just used to serving so that's exactly what he does, of course there's a little favoritism in you but you're no exception to the fact that monstro lounge's food and drinks still aren't free, you just have a higher percent off than other students.

...what? he's being generous okay.

there's only a few times where he senses you're either upset or distressed that he just let's you eat and drink for free.

222 notes · View notes

mhathotfic · 2 years

Note

Bully Kiri the exact same as you write him one day snaps he pins you against a locker while you two were alone in the hall as kiss up your jaw gently "Listen to me baby you gonna tell me how much you love me then I'm gonna take you home tonight then let your body do the talking while I put a pretty baby in your body make you my little house spouse"

That night despite any fight he takes you home and lays you on your bed hand right on your jaw "Tell me you love me" if you don't he'll shake your head "Is that your brain rattling around in their you must be stupid to deny it tell me you love me" when you finally stutter it out he smirks kissing you "That's a good baby" He absolutely ravishes you for hours.

A few weeks later you now attached to his arm like the good baby you are cause he said so and your not stupid enough to against him you run away to the bathroom dropping to your knees throwing up he grab your hair out of the way rubbing your back "awe baby let it all out maybe that's my baby in you telling you their here" a whimper falling from your lips as he kisses you "Don't worry tonight I'll make sure it is" he kisses your head and drags you out if the bathroom

Heavy dub-con warning

So for context look here

God I love how even when he’s attempting to get you to comply he still manages to be him about it.

Is he pressuring you? Yes but only because he knows you want this, you’re just too stubborn for you’re own good. That’s why he has to do all this, you need to understand that no matter how hard you push he won’t budge.

He had tried to be patient and what until you say all the things he did for you with so much love in his heart, but he just couldn’t take it and little stolen touches just wasn’t enough. He needed you and even if you didn’t want to admit it he could tell you’d be lost without him too. He had to speed it up, had to get you to understand your place at his side somehow.

Giving you a baby sounded like the perfect way to get the job done. He stewed on it a while before he decides that on going through with it, maybe he heard a rumor that scared him. Maybe something about someone else planning on snatching you away from him and he just can’t let that happen.

So he keeps an eye on you, gets someone to deliver a secret admirer’s love letter requesting you to meet in that hall and when you get there expecting to let someone down gently you’re pushed up against the lockers. A hand on your waist and his leg wedged between yours while he’s telling you exactly what he’s planning on happening between kisses. You hate it has a strong affect on you, that you really do want him. That somewhere along the lines everything got all twisted and you really did fall for him.

You were determined to ignore it and avoid him though but he was ahead of you. Already waiting with that big toothy smile of his and cooing at you when you look so shocked. Tells you of course he knew you go this way, knows his pretty baby better than anyone else and you should know that!

I’m in love with the idea that while he’s trying to get his confession he switches between overstimulating you and edging you so you have no idea what he’s doing. Came twice? Maybe you deserve another, on second thought no you don’t. Hmm maybe you get to cum now? Nope, oh ok you can cum and here’s another and another and that’s it. Maybe just say it and he’ll let you cum a couple of times on his cock instead? Just say you love him that’s all you gotta do.

And of course you eventually snap and say it after he questions if you got a functioning brain because you don’t use it if your being so stupidly stubborn. He doesn’t waste time either, your legs are pushed up into a mating press and as soon as he’s completely settled in your overly sensitive pussy, your already babbling and cumming from the overwhelming size of him pressing into every spot just right.

He’s so smug that all he gets out of you is his name and little I love you’s

Even more so when you finally accept you belong at his side and that you very well may be pregnant. So excited by the notion that he just has to double check and reconfirm his handy work.

#nat chats #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #dubious consent #tw bullying #tw toxic relationship #bully kirishima #blaize hewwo

159 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

nell-le

NELL

myneobux-blog

NeoBux.com

sams-special-space

Hi :) Welcome to my space!

bkub-chen

That's awesome, Chen!

austerlitzborodinoleipzig

Je demeurai longtemps errant dans Césarée