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nicksolemnlyswears · 11 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

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 4 months

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I finally came up with a request! Would you be able to write "Octatrio (separate) teaching reader how to swim" (inspired by the fact that I can't swim after a whole swim class and my family trying to teach me). I understand that Floyd's character is a little difficult to write, so if you need me to, I can request something different!

I love the Octotrio, they are along with Vil (my beloved) my favourite characters! I hope you enjoy this headcanon, especially since it's my first time writing for twisted

Teaching you how to swim

Characters: Azul, Jade and Floyd Established relationships, Reader is gender neutral

Azul Ashengrotto

When he learned that you couldn’t swim he was shocked to be honest.

He had just informed you that his mother would love for you and him to visit her and her husband in the Coral Sea so they could finally meet you. He left out the fact that his mom called you ‘the person that has our Azul wrapped around their finger’ you did not need to know the power you have over him.

Now don’t get me wrong, Azul is fully aware that not every land dweller is able to swim, but he just assumed that you would be able to.

Azul, being Azul, quickly tried to overplay his shock with a proposal (sadly not a marriage one).

He would teach you how to swim, if you swore to never bring up any of the baby pictures of him his mother was bound to show you once you were visiting her. Especially to the twins

This incentive made you giggle, he may have gotten slightly better with accepting his past self, but he still had a few hiccups about it. But of course you agreed, after all you wanted to meet the woman who raised your boyfriend! (and also wanted to see his baby pictured since they were bound to be adorable)

Now before he teaches you how to swim, he is learning things himself, obviously learning how to swim is very different if you grew up in the sea as an Octo-mer or are a normal human.

Azul wants to be sure he can be the best teacher possible for you so he throws himself into research, which of course makes him a big target for teasing from the twins.

When it comes to actually teaching you how to swim, no matter how nervous you are he will be 100 times more nervous.

Much to your disappointment he refuses to be in his octopus form while he teaches you how to swim.

But despite that he is an amazing teacher, making sure you are safe and that you understand everything.

If he has to touch you to correct your form, he will ask politely if he can do so, all while blushing furiously and dying from embarrassment on the inside.

With him as a teacher you get the hang of swimming rather fast and don’t need that many lessons, once you are able to swim fully on your own he will praise you for being such a good student.

Jade Leech

Unlike Azul he wasn’t shocked that you couldn’t swim, it was a small surprise sure, but nothing that would throw him off.

You told him you couldn’t swim when he told you about his plans to take you on a date in the ocean to look at Marine fungi (I googled they actually exist cause I was unsure lol) and then to go to the restaurant Azul’s mom owned.

Jade was quiet for a second after you told him, just looking at you which was rather unnerving to say the least.

He stared at you like that for a moment before giving you a close eyed smile “Well, we can’t have that can’t we my love?” he had his hand on his chin as he said that, still smiling.

You were just confused, what did he mean by that and why was he smiling like that? Despite dating him for a while his close eyed smile still was unnerving sometimes.

“I will just have to teach you how to swim. I would not want to go see the Marine fungi alone or with anyone else, so this is the only option, don't you agree?”

You just nodded, still somewhat confused. And that is how you found yourself in a pool alone with Jade a few days later. Did you want to know how he managed to get the pool to be empty for just the two of you? No.

He is in his human form, but he would change into his eel form if you wanted him too, but you may or may not have to beg for it.

Jade is not as good a teacher as Azul but still solid. He did not do research on how to teach humans how to swim, he just somehow knows how to.

Also unlike Azul he isn’t embarrassed if he has to touch you to correct your form or to help you, on the contrary he will make you embarrassed.

He has his typical smile on his face as he holds you, and whispers in your ear, nothing dirty, just whispers about your swimming like what you can do better or what you are doing good, but it is enough to embarrass you and make you flustered.

It takes a bit longer than with Azul for you to learn how to swim, mostly due to him flustering you nearly any chance he has, but he is still an adequate teacher.

Floyd Leech

You barely had the time to tell him you can’t swim until it was nearly too late.

He had somehow gotten the idea to take you on a surprise beach date and as soon as you were at the beach he pulled you along to the water, school uniform still on and everything.

You tried to stop him, but the tall eel was stronger than you so you had to yell out to him that you can’t swim just as your feet were about to touch the water.

Floyd stool still in his tracks, turning around looking confused but then smiling wide. “Whaat? Shrimpy can’t swim? But you are a shrimpy, how can that be?”

You tried to explain to him that you simply never learned it but he interrupted you.

“Well I can’t have a shrimpy who can’t swim so Floydie is gonna have to teach you!” You gulped at how excited he sounded.

If it were up to him he would have just taught you how to swim right then and there at the beach but you convinced him that it would be better to do it in a pool…once you wore swimming clothes and not the school uniform, he agreed but only if he could squeeze you on the way back from the beach.

Unlike his brother, Floyd will be in his eel form the whole time while he teaches you how to swim, which makes it a bit harder for him to explain things to you since he doesn’t have legs, but he refuses to switch back.

He honestly doesn’t know what he is doing, he is just going with the vibes white teaching you and it somehow works.

Though be prepared that he will splash you with water, especially with his tail saying it is to imitate waves of the sea, but you know he is just being a little shit.

If you thought you wouldn’t get squeezed while trying to learn how to swim, you are severely mistaken, he will wrap his tail and his arms around you, squeezing you against his chest, if it were anyone else you’d probably be scared of going down in the water but you knew you could trust Floyd in that regard.

But he isn’t a complete asshole and will genuinely praise you for the progress you are making, since that means you two are one step closer to swimming in the sea together!

It will probably take the longest to learn how to swim when Floyd is the one teaching you, but it also is the most fun, since he doesn’t take things so seriously and just wants that the both of you amuse yourselves.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst headcanons #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade twst #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd twst #floyd x reader #azul ashengrotto fluff #jade leech fluff #floyd leech fluff #twisted wonderland fluff

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luvm4thers · 8 months

Note

hey! can u write a headcanons about being married to marshall? ur writing is amazing btw

Marshall Mathers HCs:

prompt: You're Mrs. Mathers. 💍💖

⚠: a LOT of fluff, feels, happy marshall

request: yes!!

a/n: thank u so so much for the support!! <'3

hope you like it! i loved writing this one ♡

After years of being together as a couple, you never expected him to propose to you, knowing his views on marriage. You always made sure not to rush him, but he surprised you.

He would choose the prettiest ring he could find for you. One that suits you perfectly, the price wouldn't matter. He just would make sure that his love shows through it.

"Y'know I said I would never let anyone into my heart like this again… But you, baby, you're the one I wanna keep for the rest of my life, and I know I'm risking it, but you're so fucking worth it."

You would see his eyes sparkle like never before. His attitude might not change too much, but you would see the raw emotion show on his face.

You will never forget the kiss he gave you on that wedding day. Once he was able to have your lips, finally being married to you, he carried you into his arms bridal-style and kissed you like never before, for everyone to see. You could feel the intense passion and love brewing from it, and that would be something that both of you would never forget.

Of course he would be very scared to lose you. Even if he knows you love him, he doesn't want to fuck things up. He would try to maintain that fear as calm as possible to make things right.

So many emotions at the same time will have him fidgeting at the start. He wouldn't be used to feeling so happy and fulfilled on a marriage, but he would let you know how much he enjoys that feeling at your side.

Marshall won't ever give you a dull moment. He's always been rough but soft, passionate but loving. Tender but hard. And that's exactly what you're going to get.

When he's pissed off he normally wouldn't hesitate to go to his studio and take all that anger out as inspiration. But sometimes, he would accept your hugs and caresses as a form of comfort. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he would love the feeling of being comforted by you.

Marshall and you cuddling a lot as you two sleep. Yes, he would love hiding his face on your neck, grabbing your hips, hugging your figure or having you sleep on top of his body. Everything that is physical contact, as long as he has you close, that's enough to have him sleeping peacefully.

You would find lyrics on his studio about you. Marshall would surely write about you, even if feeling too embarrassed to tell you about it.

As he knows what things you like, he might take that in consideration for gifts. Special little things like giving you your favorite flowers, realizing if you're really craving something, over all, trying to be a good husband for you.

You pray that no one's talking shit about you after the news come out, because you just know Marshall IS going to diss every motherfucker who tries to mess with you.

Compliments, compliments.

"You got not only my heart, but Shady's heart too, babydoll. You gonna know how it feels to love us both."

You going shopping with Hailie, Alaina and Stevie. That would probably happen, as he would make sure they know you and accept you.

If he was already very touchy, now it's probably going to be worse.

#marshall mathers headcanons #eminem fluff #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem #marshall mathers

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ozzgin · 5 months

Note

Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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faithfulren · 20 days

Text

' missed you '

(HEY GUYSS BTW THIS IS INSPIRED BY THIS OTHER THING I MADE !! (( izuku midoriya dating headcanons !! when you told him you liked him, he felt as if his world stopped spinning. he actually just... – @faithfulren on Tumblr )) IF U HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET, U CAN GO AHEAD AND READ THAT FIRST BEFORE THIS IF U WANT TO :3)

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

you were on izuku's balcony, it was probably like 1 am.. judging of how quiet the whole dorm was which was kind of rare. you peaked through the curtains and saw your handsome boyfriend on his desk, writing in his notebook, his other hand using a gripper underneath as it rested against his thigh. everything he did you found attractive, as long as it was him doing it. you would scream inside every time. you could barely resist to not stare at him, i mean.. come on.. his muscles are to DIE for. you would compliment that part about him to izuku every now and then but he'd just laugh it off nervously, thinking you were just teasing him or something.

you knocked lightly, hoping he'd notice and luckily he did. unlike the other times he'd kind of space out and focus on his thoughts, mumbling sometimes. he turned to see what it was, knowing he didn't even have to look since it's always been you on his balcony. he never understood why you kept sneaking in. but he did think it was cute.

he slid the door open to let you in and once you stepped into his room you hugged him, smiling brightly. you enjoyed being close to izuku, he feels warm. i mean, everyone's warm but he was like that comfy type of warm. you felt at home with him. you see him have that familiar smile he always has, you weren't sure how he always kept smiling even though all the shit that happens around here always seems to be dumped on him. i guess he really takes after all might.

he smiled warmly and held you close, looking at you. "hey, y/n.. couldn't sleep.?" you smiled and nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, playing with dark green fluffy.. sorta messy hair. it was one of the things you liked about him. other than his kind, caring, selfless personality and many other aspects about your boyfriend. "i missed you, izu.." you spoke in a soft gentle tone, admiring his dreamy green eyes you could stare at for hours.

he chuckled and answered you, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. "you saw me earlier, love.." he spoke as he gave you that one look, that one look that made you feel special to him more than anyone or anything. that one look that made you feel like you were his whole world. "i know.. but still." you responded to him, looking at him and never looking away. he just smiled even more before intertwining your fingers with his and pulled you onto the bed, sitting down right next to him. he sighed and spoke up, "alright, what do you wanna do? talk or do you have something else in mind?" he brightly smiled at you, waiting for you to respond.

"mh.. i wanna talk." you rested against him, feeling yourself get a bit sleepy. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. he nodded in response, "izu.. i really love you.." you spoke out, he stroked your hair gently and carefully. "i really love you too." he placed a kiss on top of your head. he tried to keep it cool, knowing he was blushing like crazy. probably thinking like "I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE A GIRL IN MY ROOM??" but you liked that anyway. "you're not like any other guy i've met.. you're so sweet.. really hot too.."

"izu.? izuku?? you aren't moving.."

"and why is your face so red??"

#anime #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #mha izuku #mha x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #deku #deku x reader #fluff #faithfulren

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

Meeting Pastry Chef Luca from The Bear For the First Time Headcanon

a/n: inspired by @superhoeva, i thought i'd take a crack at writing a chef luca headcanon because we're all dying rn for will poulter as a sticker-sleeve tattooed chef. would anyone read this as a fic?? let me know.

edit: (7/3/23) i turned this into a fic called 'burn your life down.' feel free to read if you'd like!

you own a small restaurant in copenhagen. it's only been open for a year (this could potentially change if i write said fic). it's nothing fancy, but the food has soul. the food is an extension of yourself -- it tells the story of you.

inspired by noma, you grow some of your own produce outside of the restaurant in raised garden beds.

you begin to notice (as it's an open kitchen) and a smaller spot, that a tall, blonde brit has become one of your regulars. he comes in the same day each week at the same time. he always looks tired, like he's unwinding from a long day's worth of hard work, but he's always kind to your staff, and he has a quiet, powerful confidence to him.

week after week, he's there. he always orders one dish and one glass of wine, before paying the bill and leaving for the evening without a word.

your staff speculate about him: who is he, what must he do, that he's so handsome that he must have a partner. you don't pay much attention to the gossip, but it's hard not to notice that it's become part of his routine.

he always orders something different -- eager to try any new kind of special that you have on the menu that day.

it's not till one slower night of service that you finally meet him. you're short staffed that night and so you end up running plates out to tables -- finding it a great opportunity to connect more with your diners on a personal level. it's a very american hospitality concept, but since you have the time, you figure, why not?

he comes in at his usual time on sunday evening and you're curious to learn more about your weekly diner. you introduce yourself after walking his plate out and he's surprised that it's you who's serving him this evening.

"you're the chef?" he asks. "yes." "i can't think of the last time i saw a head chef work front of house..." he shakes his head in disbelief. "we're a little short staffed tonight." he seems impressed, raising his glass of wine to you. "cheers."

at the end of dinner service, one of your servers hands you a handwritten note that luca's left for you, inviting you to the restaurant he works at. the note reads: "thank you for all of the great meals. i'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it," followed by a time, a date for tomorrow, and an address.

as soon as you realize which restaurant it is (much fancier, michelin starred, held in high regard) you only panic a little, but decide to go anyways. since both of your restaurants are closed on monday, you're even more nervous about the fact that you're meeting him at his tonight, while it's closed, considering you've barely had a conversation with him and how intimidating of a reputation the restaurant has.

he greets you at the door, right on time, and he leads you past the closed dining room, back to the kitchen where he's created a few dishes for you to try: two from his regular menu and one inspired by a dish of yours he's had.

"all of this... you did all of this for me... why?" you muster up the courage to ask. "your food is inspired and i don't think i've had something this inspired in a long time. and as chefs, this is what we do. we feed each other." and it's the beginning of, you're not quite sure what, but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction

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fatuismooches · 2 years

Note

hi omg, I hope you don't mind me sending requests <3

I live for your writing sm, all of your fluffs gave me diabetes but healthier. I am a sucker for all of them, so thank you for putting your time and effort in your written works <3

I was thinking of headcanons with gn!reader and the fatui members but the reader is fragile, who can get easily sick or physically weak because of the unhealthy conditions during their childhood. I would love to think about those "meanies" (cough dottore or scara) would go insta worry mode if something bad happens to you because of your condition. Fluff or angst, I'm in love with both, I hope you don't mind about the request ^^ (you can decide platonic or romantic <3)

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. That is until they start worrying over your frail figure.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: I really loved this request, it made me really inspired! (Probably because they'd be extra soft in this scenario and I love that...) I hope you like this nonnie!

Pierro:

He doesn’t get to see you very often with his work and whatnot. But rest assured that you are in good hands, and that even if Pierro only has a spare twenty minutes of break, he’s coming to your room or wherever you are to check up on you. He doesn’t want you to be restrained. He wants you to go and experience Snezhnaya instead of being cooped up alone all the time (with the proper guards and company of course.) He is a very stoic but kind gentleman. You’d hide in his coat while walking together and no one would know until you pop out of it and scare the recruits. He holds the doors open, pulls up the blankets to the very top. When you’re tired due to your sickness he likes to use ancient Khaenri’ahn magic to make you smile.

If you died, Pierro would feel grief that he has not felt since the destruction of his homeland. He has already lost so much that his heart had become numb a long time ago, but your death made it come flooding back. He would have some kind of small figure similar to a chess piece made of you, and he’d keep it on him. In the battle for his heart, you were always the winner. What hurt the most was that he couldn’t even be with you in your final moments, to at least confirm how much he loved you despite everything. But he promises you, he will see you again in the “Old World” after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream.

Capitano:

He is really worried for you. It was such a sharp contrast - big, tall, in tip-top shape, hulking Capitano while little old you struggled to walk straight sometimes. If you sneeze or even cough once, he’s literally all over you asking you if you’re okay. He tries to do a lot of things for you by himself. He stabs the meat on your plate so hard it breaks. He accidentally spends an hour deciding what you should wear, because he didn’t realize you had this many clothes, so he needed to choose something that’d look the best on you, despite not really having any fashion sense. But at least he is very diligent with your medicine times. He literally hovers over you, unintentionally being menacing, while you drink it. It’s very cute but the first time he did it, you spat out the medicine in surprise because you opened your eyes and he was just standing there with no warning. (Don’t ask him to pour it though. Once you asked him to pour a little into the bottle’s cover. His hands were too big and it spilled on the bedsheets.) If you collapse on him, he would be internally panicking so hard. Poor guy thought he hurt you somehow. The kind of guy who paces back and forth and causes everyone around him ten times more anxiety with how he’s acting. Also, lots of rides where you hook your legs over his shoulders and your hands are on his head (I don’t know what they’re called.)

If you died, Capitano would feel like a monster. Yes, he didn’t kill you, but it still felt like your blood was on his hands. Or did he kill you? He brought ruin and destruction to everyone, did he curse you too? How did he even know you were happy with him? Did you regret it? Would you have been happier spending your days with someone else? Horrific questions dug deeper and deeper stabs into his sturdy body, weighing him down day by day. He would give up anything just to have you back in his arms, for you to reassure and caress him, that he wasn’t a demon. But it seemed like the monster part of him was taking over anyway.

Columbina:

The kind of lover who has a list of songs that remind her of you and also buys you the record so you could listen to it. Columbina thinks music can soothe and heal the soul. So everyone can frequently hear tunes coming from your room. She also has a very calming voice in general, so when you are in pain, she just talks to you. She’d gently croon you to sleep or get you to spill all of your fears about the future, and thus comfort you. Since she sings, I’m declaring that she’s pretty poetic and would write poems for you. They always include bravery, strength, and overcoming illness with love, complete with heart doodles around it.

If you died, she would create multiple songs in honor of you. At your funeral, they couldn’t go on with the proceedings for a long time because she sang for hours, thinking of you. Often, she would go to your coffin, encased in ice, and just lie on it, singing. I think she would take a piece of your clothing and attach it to her outfit or something. I just have a feeling that she has lost before, but she likes to hold that article of clothing and feel as though you are still with her. She would become lost in her thoughts a lot more than before. If you had a favorite song, Columbina could often be found humming it to herself alone.

Dottore:

He’s a doctor. A very unethical one, but Dottore’s still extremely intelligent. He knows what you can and can’t do, your possibilities and your limits, your good days and your bad days. He doesn’t trust anyone else to monitor your progress and health. When it’s time for your walks, Dottore personally comes with you, which baffles the other Fatui who knows that virtually nothing can come between him and his research. He tells you about how his medicine for you is coming along, and while you can’t really understand any of it, you like clinging to his arm for support. When it’s time for your medicine, he administers it himself despite your whining that it’s yucky. (For you though, he would find a way to make it a flavor to your liking.)

But even for him, illness can sometimes be unpredictable, despite his precise calculations. Which is why whenever your condition randomly takes a turn for the worse, his mood completely changes and he’s already running a bunch of tests and taking your pressure and all of the like, trying to figure out what triggered your illness. Everyone knows not to even look at him during these times. Doesn’t show it but even though he isn’t scared of anything, these little stunts are not good for him. Has notebooks dedicated to your condition and daily status updates. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. Oh, but he’ll have his clones piggyback you around when you’re too tired to walk <3.

If you died, Dottore wouldn’t show it, but he would never forgive himself. He has the power to create artificial Gods, clone himself, and so much more, but he couldn’t save you? Honestly, he would probably preserve your body through cryosleep, unable to accept your death and his failure. He keeps you in a room that no one else has access to, and just… stares at your naked body in the tube, ruminating about how much he wanted you back. Dottore’s efforts to research and master resurrection triple, and he won’t stop until he could hear your voice again.

Pulcinella:

When you’re at your lowest because of your illness, Pulcinella always comes in and likes to tell you some roundabout story that always has a life message at the end. He’s serious with you but also likes when you have fun. Reads you stories in different voices but it’s not very good when he sounds like a grandpa in all of them. He likes to set you up with different Harbingers. They’re also like family to him so he would want them to spend time with you. It would help your mental health too, he thinks. While some are fine with it, others are less interested, let's just say Papanella has his ways.

If you died, it really felt like he lost his own child. Pulcinella loved when you came to him asking for stories. When you sometimes left the country but came back with exciting stories. He liked to joke that if an old man like him could make it for this long, you’d have to as well. He really wanted you to go and experience the world and what it had to offer, just like he did. Planning your funeral was not something he was looking forward to.

Scaramouche:

Sometimes, he can’t help but think to himself, how much of a grip a weak, frail human like you has on him. A strong breeze could probably knock you off your feet, meanwhile, he has God-like powers. Yet he feels like a fool in your presence. He complains about how needy you are but in an instant, he is ordering someone to bring you a glass of water or extra blankets. Grumbles about how fragile you are but he holds you so gently, you wonder if it’s still Scaramouche. When you’re around, he tends to keep his voice down and not yell at others, since he doesn’t want to accidentally make you feel worse. Scaramouche is still his snarky self, but it’s noticeable how much he observes you, matching his pace to yours even if you’re walking slowly as hell, stopping with you to look at the scenery.

Despite all his whining, not gonna lie, if you collapse on him, he will probably freak out. If he had a heart, it would be thump-thump-thumping, but in its place is just an ache and unsettling feeling. Instantly catches you but his mind goes to the worse, knowing how fleeting your life was. Would move faster than the speed of lightning to get you help, and would not leave for side for anything. Waking up to Scaramouche’s hand intertwined with you and his head facing down into the sheets was not something you expected. In fact, he acts more vulnerable than you, ordering you (which, in reality, is more like a plea) to get better soon.

If you died, any remnants of love and kindness would just… extinguish. Anything in sight is being thrown, crushed, electrocuted. If the sickness was caused by the Tatarigami plaguing Inazuma, he would be especially furious. He would curse everything, everyone. The God, his creator, who abandoned him and let you get this sick. The doctors who were too useless to do anything. But he would curse himself the most, for being so weak, and not being able to do anything for the one person who actually gave a damn about him, now fated to wander Teyvat by himself for eternity. (But… reincarnation AU, anyone?)

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino is a silent yet watchful and hands-on partner. She observes you closely to see if your condition is acting up, or if you’re starting to feel ill. She is the kind of person who wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen since she picks up on your cues. Often times Arlecchino would scold the orphans for bothering you so much but you’d always reassure her that you didn’t mind. Whenever you try to lie about how well you’re feeling, she always narrows her eyes at you and makes you lie back down. Nothing can get past her. I also think she has a great soup recipe due to her experience with children, so you’ll definitely be fed some good food.

If you died, it would seem that there was no change in Arlecchino to the Fatui recruits. Same stone cold face and dead eyes. Same harsh voice that spat out orders. And they would be right, outwardly at least. Inwardly, however, was a completely different story. When a wound is healing, it hurts the most when it’s targeted. If her heart wasn’t hurt before, now it felt like it was completely broken, just when you were starting to piece it back together. When she looks at the children playing, she envisions you running after them too, but the only thing there is the shadows of the kids. When she’s walking through the halls, she anticipates you trying to creep up on her unknowingly and give her a back hug, but now all she hears is her own intense footsteps. When she’s doing paperwork, she expects to see you trying to sneak sugar into her coffee… but you won’t ever be here to do those simple things again.

La Signora:

La Signora treats you like glass. She is especially overprotective of you because she greatly fears losing you. You have the best maids and servants tending to your every need. She’d rather you not exert more energy than you have to. When she’s not around, she sends her little flame moths with sweet messages to you, in hopes of making you smile. She is scared about you going out by yourself since you could get sick so easily. So whenever you need a breath of fresh air, she makes sure to bundle you up in the finest coats. Also has her moths flutter around you for heat. Signora is very tall, so I think she would like to sit you on her lap and do simple things with her. I think she secretly craves a domestic life with her lover after she was robbed of it so long ago. She’d want to play with your hair, press you into her soft chest, make origami butterflies together.

If you died, the ice that previously surrounded her heart would swallow her up again. No more teasing you, hooking her finger under your chin, and kissing you. No more mock fashion shows where she helped to dress you in the most gorgeous clothes and the two of you would pose for pictures for the Kamera. It seemed as though the Gods would tear anyone she loved away from her without hesitation. She suffered the loss of her love once, but for it to happen twice? The pain was unbearable but Rosalyne sealed her feelings up once again. Coldness and ruthlessness returned to mask her true feelings, for if she didn’t, she feared she might not be able to handle it.

Pantalone:

Pantalone wants you to see and do anything you want. You want to go to Liyue to attend the Lantern Rite? He’s clearing his schedule to come with you. You want some obscure item? He’s searching all the markets and buying it, no matter the cost. You picked up some hobby to pass the time? He’s indulging you with the most expensive and efficient equipment to help you with it. He wants you to have the most stress-free, easy, and happy life, so you can just focus on recovering and getting better. Every day, you’ll be visited by a new doctor, repeating the same old questions about how you feel, but Pantalone reassures you that they’re working on something for your health. He’s thankful that his position in the Fatui allows him to stay in Snezhnaya most of the time because he worries about you every minute of the day. The kind of guy who would have a status report on your health sent to his office every hour.

If you died, behind closed doors, his smile would immediately drop, now feeling like it was a heavy burden just to quirk his lips. He had access to the best doctors, medicines, and even bought ancient remedies long forgotten. Yet it was all fruitless. The Mora that he once loved to feel slip through his fingers sickened him. What was all the money he had worth? It couldn’t buy your life back.

Sandrone:

If you want her to, she could probably hook you up with some robotic/prosthetic limbs. But she’ll never want to make you a full robot. You’re not one of her experiments, you’re her lovely lover. At first, she was okay with you going on walks. Well, it wasn’t really a walk because a Ruin Guard just carried you in its hand. But she never did that again when the robot returned with you collapsed and unconscious. Needless to say, the project Sandrone was working on is immediately dropped and now she’s taking extra precautions. I feel as though she would hook up a camera to her caretaker robots so she can be updated on your conditions at all times. When you’re sick, Sandrone likes to make cute robot animals, (which is something she never dreamed of wasting time on before she met you) to bring you little things. Maybe photos of some scenery she took might brighten your day. Or little short but sweet notes. The one that always makes you laugh is when it brings you a clipboard to fill out your daily assessment.

If you died, it would feel like she herself turned into a robot. Wake up, experiment in her lab for an ungodly amount of hours, forget to eat and sleep. Rinse and repeat. Her life was constant now that you, the variable, were gone. Sandrone had a bed for you in her lab so you could watch her while she tinkered with some mechanical parts. It was mostly you talking while she fiddled but your voice bouncing off the walls was pleasant. But now it was silent, only the squeaking of wrenches and screwdrivers remained. She felt emptier than any puppet.

Childe:

He’s the kind of person who excitedly grips your hand and tells you about all the fun and lively activities you two will do together when your health improves. He wakes you up every morning, sunlight pouring into the room and the smell of breakfast cooking (and him in an apron.) Loves to serve you breakfast in bed, spoon-feeding you while the two of you plan what the day will be like. You want to just stay in and relax? Great, he’s got some of Teucer’s favorite story books to read together. You want to go for a stroll? He’s already got the route marked and the picnic basket ready. Childe would manage to carry you and like ten other bags at the same time just to impress you. Also, he is your personal hype man. Even when you’re terribly sick, he’s there to motivate you and sing your praises about how strong you are.

If you died, he would feel lost. The abyss snatched a piece of his heart away already, but he felt even more hollow now. You were the only thing that made Childe forget about being a weapon for the Tsaritsa for a while. When he was away on missions, he enjoyed reading your letters about how you were supposedly getting better. In the middle of a battlefield he would flip through photos of you and his heart would swell in anticipation for the future. But as Teucer and his siblings wail and cling to his legs, and it takes all of Ajax’s strength to not break down in front of them too. When he’s alone though, he silently sobs into your old clothes and bed sheets.

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animasola86 · 8 months

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Kinktober: A scholar and a pervert

Notes: @kinktober2023 is doing things with my mind! I will never be able to write innocent fluff ever again I fear! >_> But it's still fun to get it all out for once, all those dirty thoughts, holy moly, I should be ashamed but I am so not, absolutely not.

Here, have another piece full of various kinks that I threw together for my (and your) reading pleasure! (I was also heavily inspired by my own (NSFW) headcanons!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Overstimulation, (magical) sex toys, fingering/fisting, breathplay, praising and bondage if you squint. Oh and I might or might not have slipped in (pun intended) a little dp in one hole at the end, whoopsie. (It really is a wild bingo of kinks at this point.)

Word count: 10.3k

Synopsis: Bookworm!Sebastian strikes again and wants to do some experiments on you. Of course you're up for it, even though you have no idea what he has planned.

Last warning: The kinks are strong in this one. Read at your own risk!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

A scholar and a pervert

You're a mess. A whimpering, sweating, shuddering, crying mess. Your hair sticks to your forehead, your lips are swollen and parted, trembling badly, tears wet your flushed cheeks and your eyelids are heavy as you watch the boy kneeling between your spread legs.

He has tied your wrists and ankles to the posts of his bed and all you can do is thrash your head around and buck your hips against the things he is doing to you. Your limbs are twitching uncontrollably, your skin covered in sweat and saliva and so many bruises and bite marks you've long forgotten to count them.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimper, your voice strained and hoarse, your throat hurting from his previous experiments.

He looks up then, his eyes dark, his face a mask of concentration. You shiver deeply when your gazes meet and bite your raw lips once more. “Please what?” he asks gravelly, his low voice almost having the same effect on you as the toy currently lodged between your quivering folds.

As if on cue he grabs it tightly and pushes it deeper. You moan and squirm against your confines, you don't even know what he has shoved into you now. There's been so many different things and most of them you can't even describe.

And it had started so innocently. With his big brown eyes he had asked you if you were up for some experiments. He'd read something and wanted to try it out. Obviously you couldn't say no to him, you never can, not when he's looking at you with those puppy-dog eyes and asks you with that soft, deep voice.

You agreed and now you are tied to his bed, covered in his love bites and driven to orgasm after orgasm as he keeps testing out more and more things on you.

He had started with the usual, the familiar affections, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, then your cheek and jaw and neck, where he began to leave mark after mark, sucking and biting and licking your skin until it was raw and throbbing.

With a wave of his wand your clothes were gone and amidst your surprise, you found yourself on your back, pushed into the mattress, naked and exposed, your arms sprawled and your legs splayed widely – and the moment you wondered what he was doing, he had cast another spell and thick ropes had wound themselves around your wrists and ankles, holding you in place.

Your struggles were quickly silenced by his mouth and for a moment you forgot about the vulnerability of the situation. But then he settled between your legs.

He'd pleasured you so many times before, mostly with his mouth and fingers, that you had grown quite accustomed to his routine – not much he could change up there, now could he? It would still drive you mad with pleasure every time, but it had become a little redundant, at least that must have been his thought process – you would have been fine with just having him suck on your clit and fingering you rapidly until you came so hard he had to wipe your release off of his face.

But he wanted more. Always more. And even though this was about your pleasure, you knew this was mostly for him. He loved seeing you come undone under his touches, he loved turning you into a whimpering, brainless thing that would melt whenever his fingers would so much as graze your skin.

So when he got out this box of toys, you were a little startled. You were used to feeling him inside you, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock, but seeing those objects he pulled out one after the other caused you to frown deeply. He noticed your doubts, quickly grabbed a long, skinny thing and moved up to lay down beside you, his warm eyes on you.

“Open wide for me,” he said quietly and proceeded to push his finger against your lips. Swallowing hard, you complied and parted your lips. He didn't wait for you to fully open, he already pushed his finger into your mouth and onto your tongue and deeper inside until you felt his fingertip brushing against the back of your throat.

You gagged immediately and he pulled out again, watching you with a curious expression on his freckled face as you struggled through a little cough fit. His hand moved to your throat and caressed it gently until he squeezed it lightly between his thumb and index finger, massaging it with a grip that got firmer with every passing heartbeat.

He stopped when you swallowed against his hand. Tilting his head, he leaned over you, his lips brushing against yours as his eyes fixated yours. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating through your very core.

Despite the position you found yourself in, you didn't need long to give him his answer. “Yes,” you whispered, knowing that deep down you would allow him to do anything to you. “I trust you,” you said firmly, definitely not anticipating the things he had in mind for you.

He gave you a smile that immediately erased any doubt that tried to poke through the fog inside your head and a kiss that left you breathless and certainly wanting more.

Once he leaned back, still watching you with warm affection that instantly started the waterworks between your splayed legs, he put his hand on your cheek and caressed it, before slipping his finger back between your lips. Fingers, to be exact, two this time, and they went slowly deeper, pushing and prodding at the back of your throat.

You did your best not to gag again, forcing yourself to focus on his eyes rather than the strange sensation. You couldn't, however, stop the tears from forming inside the corners of your eyes as he tilted your chin up and moved his fingers deeper. Breaking eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered quietly, squirming in your restraints, the ropes cutting into your skin as you did so.

“Shh,” he made, not thinking about removing his fingers. You felt saliva pooling around them, mixing with the tears streaming down your cheeks as it spilled past your quivering lips.

“Mhmpf!” you mumbled against him, trying to kick your legs as you felt your head spinning from lack of oxygen. Finally he released you and you took deep, desperate breaths as you tried to relax, staring up at him almost accusingly. He just watched you, bringing his wet fingers to his lips and letting the tip of his tongue trail along them.

You blushed deeply at the sight and immediately halted your struggles, gulping down the excess saliva. His smirk caused you to shiver. Bringing his fingers back to your face, he caressed your jaw before he leaned down and kissed you softly. You kissed him back hungrily and when he moved away again, you strained your neck to stay close to him, but he denied your feeble request to taste more of him. With a sigh you sank back into the cushions.

“I love how eager you are,” he whispered and watched you closely. “Can you open your pretty mouth once more, love?” he asked and this time, you hesitated, inhaling sharply as you noticed the object in his hand. It had a phallic size and form, smaller and thinner than the only original cock you'd ever seen, but it was still a little intimidating when he pressed its tip against your lips.

It felt firm but had a soft texture, like leather or rubber, and when he pushed it past your lips it tasted a little earthy. You swallowed in anticipation, and opened your mouth wider, your eyes on his concentrated face as he inserted the object deeper and deeper. “Suck on it,” he instructed quietly and you hollowed your cheeks and closed your lips tightly around it, doing what he told you, while he grabbed your chin and tilted it up again, gently pushing it further in.

You felt it hitting the back of your throat and you had to close your eyes, tears falling from your lashes as you fought against your gag reflex. With his hand holding your face, you couldn't really move away, so whenever it got too much, you'd hit your knuckles against the bed post (about the only movement you could make) and he would stop and pull it back out. He kept watching you with interest and kept repeating the same motion for what felt like a long time until you felt you got more and more comfortable with that thing in your mouth.

He started moving it faster and harder against you, the wet noises mixing with your soft whimpers, before he pulled it out completely and let it fall beside your head as he grabbed your face with both hands and pushed his mouth onto yours, not letting you breathe but rewarding you for your efforts with a deep, hungry kiss that made your legs twitch.

“I can't wait to put my cock down your throat,” he whispered gravelly into your mouth, his words and the idea of it making you shiver. “But that's for another time...”

When he leaned back with a smirk, he left you breathless and dishevelled, your lips swollen and trembling, saliva and tears dripping from your chin. He moved his hand over your skin and wiped at it gently, before his hand travelled down your throat and lower, his fingers trailing between your breasts. His dark eyes were on you as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to your chest. You felt your heart beating faster, right against his mouth, the bruises on your neck throbbing in anticipation.

You inhaled deeply, breathing against his touches, as he started leaving a trail of wet kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking and licking, leaving visible marks on you, other times grazing you with his teeth, scraping and nibbling and downright biting you – and you would wince every time, low whimpers falling from your lips.

Then he moved to your breasts. Leaning back to look at you, he grabbed them with firm hands, enveloping them completely in his big palms, squeezing and kneading them until he coaxed a moan out of you. You watched him, almost not daring to breathe as he fondled your chest vigorously. His eyes were always on you, as if he was studying every single twitch you made, not the tiniest reaction went past his attentive stare.

You blushed deeply underneath it, the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to not only make you whimper louder but squirm against him, your unattended centre throbbing in growing need. But he took his time. He usually did, but this time felt particularly slow, almost excruciatingly slow. He was either teasing you or just really wanted to see how far he could push you before you succumbed to your urges and begged him to do more.

While he kept groping your left breast, he moved his mouth to your right and without hesitation started sucking on your nipple. It was already hard from all the things he'd done before, so feeling his tongue poke and circle it, only caused more moans to fall from your sore throat. You thrashed your head back into the pillow and closed your eyes when he teased it with his teeth, a sharp pain jolting through you at the sensation.

When he switched and assaulted your other breast with his mouth, you whined and squirmed beneath him, the tension inside your stomach building and building. Yet he kept his routine, groping and kneading, rolling your nipple between his fingers while he sucked and licked and gnawed on the other.

You strained against the ropes tying you to the bedposts and for a moment, a single moment before your mind became utterly useless, you looked around and noticed that he had drawn the curtains and you could only hope that he had put a silencing charm on them as well, because you knew for a fact that you couldn't hold those noises in. But when your insides convulsed under the constant stimulation of your tender nipples, you didn't care if anyone could hear you.

You could only arch your back, pushing your chest right against his face, as your hips stuttered and you tried to no avail to press your thighs together for that little bit of extra friction that he had denied you by forcing your legs open. So despite the rush settling in your stomach, that feeling of release that was so, so close, it never came, and you wailed loudly when he let go of your breasts and leaned back to look at you.

You were glaring at him and he only smirked wider. “Patience, love,” he whispered and gave you a quick peck to your trembling lips. You then watched him settling back between your legs, his fingers ghosting your skin before he focused on the toys he had brought. More phallic looking objects, in all sizes and lengths and girths, a series of balls tied to a string and other things you couldn't even describe.

You swallowed hard at the sight, but somehow you were indeed eager to see where this was going. Before he picked any of it, you felt his hands rubbing up and down your inner thighs and you moaned softly in response, your legs twitching against his touch. Then you watched him take a very close look at your quivering cunt, and if you weren't in heat and need and almost driven to madness with desire, you'd be embarrassed and slightly humiliated by how closely he looked at you.

But all you wanted was for him to touch you and to your utter surprise he complied. His fingers drew gentle lines over your pelvis until they reached your sex, his thumbs firmly pushing against your lower lips, caressing them with precision. Your breaths were shallow and every touch caused you to shiver deeply. He paused then and tilted his head, still staring at your centre. You'd think he was looking at it for the first time, when in reality he might know it better than you do.

And still he seemed fascinated by it. You could only blush more, the heat travelling down your body warming your skin and causing his marks on you to throb slightly. While he had one hand pressed to your lower stomach, his thumb teasingly close to your clit, you felt his other glide over your folds, gently pushing and squeezing them between his fingers, the wet squelching sound coaxing an embarrassed whimper out of you.

He looked up then and gave you a disarming smile. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispered as he moved his finger right through your wetness, the sound and sensation of it making you flinch. “It's quite impressive to be this wet, you know?” You raised your eyebrows at him and he chuckled softly. “I find it really fascinating how you react to my touches... I only have to do this –” he said and pushed his thumb firmly against that sensitive bundle of nerves – and you could do nothing but moan and buck your hips in response while a deep tremor rushed through your legs. “And you come undone almost instantly.”

You barely registered his words as you were only focused on his voice and its deep vibrations and the effect it had on you. You never told him this, but you could probably come just from hearing his whispers in your ear. The thought alone gave you goosebumps. You should probably mention it to him at some point, if he was already so fascinated by how you reacted to his touches. The things he could do with just his voice... You sighed deeply.

He rubbed your clit again and brought you back to the here and now as you moaned softly once more and licked your lips, trying to breathe evenly through your nose. His eyes were on you still, a mixture of hunger and curiosity, as he continued to move his fingers through your folds, and it was when he moved both hands down and gently put your lower lips between his thumb and forefinger, that you inhaled sharply. He pulled your folds apart and looked right at your entrance.

You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he did so and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept your hole exposed to the cold air of the room, watching it with eager eyes. You had to look away at one point, your cheeks burning and your heart thundering inside your quickly rising and falling chest. Even though he knew your body inside and out and you were usually very comfortable around him, it still felt weird having him look so closely, inspecting you like this.

You cried out in surprise when you suddenly felt his warm mouth right on your sensitive skin, his tongue taking a long stroke through your wetness, teasing your entrance and lapping at your clit, and the moan he issued almost drove you over the edge immediately. It didn't take long for you to scratch the almost and replace it with definitely as he kept licking you with a force you hadn't expected.

Your first orgasm rolled over you quite gently, your body accepting the anticipated release with a series of tremors and shudders as the tension within dissipated slowly. You moaned softly, gripping the ropes that held you tightly as it washed over you. At that point you had no idea that you wouldn't come down from this high for a very long time.

With his mouth still pressed to your folds, you felt him move his hands and he blindly grabbed the nearest object he could find before he leaned back and without any hesitation or further preparation pushed the phallic thing right into your still shivering channel. You gasped in irritation and your eyes flew open as you stared down at him, your walls clenching around the cold, hard item. A deep shudder made your legs tremble as he kept pushing it in until it almost disappeared inside you.

Before it did, he pulled it back out, gently moving it in circles, then withdrew it entirely. Instead he used his fingers and quickly slipped two of them in, coaxing more moans out of you. He pushed them knuckles deep into you before he started pumping them hard and fast, using the aftershocks of your last orgasm to give you another one right away.

Thrashing your head into the pillow, your whimpers louder now, he worked his digits against you and the tension built and built – yet before you could embrace the sweet release once more, he pulled out and shoved that object back inside you. You wailed and squirmed against it, your walls tightening around it, pulling it deeper – until you bucked your hips upwards, your eyes squeezed shut, as your trembling orgasm made the thing slip out with a force neither of you seemed to have anticipated.

The object rolled off the bed and disappeared past the curtains. You heard him chuckling and felt his weight leaving the bed, before he returned, settling back between your legs. “I didn't know your pussy could do that,” he whispered and when you looked at him out of half-lidded eyes, you felt your cheeks blush even more. “Fascinating,” he added and returned the item to the box.

He then grabbed the line of balls attached to a string and you watched him with curiosity and slight concern as he cradled the item between his long fingers. You were breathing heavily, your legs still twitching, and he wouldn't let you catch your breath as he proceeded to push the first ball against your wet folds. Not being able to see them disappear inside you, you could feel them being sucked in by your clenching walls, ball after ball, until they filled you up with a pressure you hadn't felt before.

His hand was on your stomach as he gently pushed against your skin and as he did so, he tugged at the string carefully and ball after ball plopped back out of you, your hips stuttering with every single one. You didn't know how many there were, how many he had managed to fit inside you, but when he repeated this motion, you could only lean back and stare at the ceiling, the sensation strangely relaxing.

Your soft moans and whimpers became a constant drone in your empty head so that you could barely hear him when he told you to push them out. You opened your eyes and looked at him, feeling the balls lodged inside your tight channel, pressing against your walls, stretching you, filling you up in a kind of comforting way. “What?” you breathed quietly.

“Push them out,�� he repeated and gently tugged at the string again, but left it to you to get them out of your quivering cunt. You frowned at him and bucked your hips as you deliberately clenched your walls around them and with a deep moan you managed to make them move within you. His smile grew on his face as you felt the pressure lessening and the balls slipping out of you one by one. “Well done,” he whispered and you swallowed at that.

His praises always caught you quite off guard, but not as much as his fingers as they plunged back into you and you moaned loudly at the sensation. Somehow he was moving deeper and you realized he had angled his hand to drive his digits into you a little past his knuckles. You felt him caressing your walls from the inside, gently pushing and prodding, and when he spread his fingers, you flinched and whimpered, only to be calmed down by his hand still on your stomach, rubbing in soothing circles.

You watched him breathlessly, biting your lip as you arched your neck to take a better look at what he was doing, and when you saw how he removed his fingers to push them further together and press his thumb against his palm, you realized he was about to push his entire hand into you. You gasped and squirmed against him, not quite believing his big hand would fit into you, but he shushed you and continued as you tensed against your restraints.

He was concentrated and carefully pushed his fingertips past your clenching entrance, really trying to make his hand as narrow as possible as he entered you. You whimpered more, your breaths erratic, the tension on your tight skin unbelievably firm, almost painfully so. He kept pushing and when it got too much, you thrashed your head back into the pillow and surrendered to it, knowing you couldn't stop him anyway.

“Does it hurt?” you heard him whisper and you could only nod, whining quietly.

Yet instead of pulling back out, he kept going, slowly pushing his hand further in, his knuckles being the widest part really stretching your sensitive skin. As he noticed your struggle, you felt him lower his free hand to move it to your clit, and as he began to rub it in tight circles, you felt your centre relaxing slightly and indeed he managed to push his hand past his knuckles and from there it seemed as if your channel was sucking him in on its own.

You held your breath at the pressure within and squeezed your eyes shut, beads of sweats running down your temples. “Look at me,” you then heard him whisper and because you couldn't deny him anything, you opened your eyes and watched him, your face a mask of exertion and pain, your lips trembling. “Look at my hand,” he then said and looked down first – and when you did you could only see his wrist sticking out between your folds. The sight made you gasp deeply as more and more tremors rushed through your body.

Yet it was when he started moving his fingers inside you, gently unfolding them against your soft flesh, that you cried out and unconsciously jerked your hips against his hand – only making the sensation worse. Tears started streaming down your cheeks and you stared at him pleadingly, tossing against the ropes holding you in place, but he didn't budge. Instead he moved his hand slightly, pushing even deeper, even though you felt as if he was already prodding your cervix with his fingertips.

You had always admired his long, slender fingers and what they could do to you, but you never imagined having his entire hand shoved inside you as if you were a fucking puppet – yet he did move you like one as he started pushing and teasing, each movement of his fingers coaxing either a shrill sound out of you or making your limbs twitch. You felt your stomach tensing up and when he started turning his hand slightly, you completely lost it.

Thrashing about as much as you could against the ropes, you fought against the intrusion with all you had. It was too much, it felt too much, he was filling you up in ways nobody should be filled up, and it got even worse when he began to move his hand in and out in tiny movements, pulling back to his knuckles and sinking back in until his wrist was hugged by your folds again, and you moaned and groaned and whimpered, your body quickly overwhelmed by the sensation.

Your head was spinning and your breaths rapid puffs that didn't get any air into your lungs. Your heart was racing, thundering against your chest, ready to burst right through your ribs while your pelvis felt as if it was cracked open from the inside.

“Please...” you whimpered helplessly, your voice barely a hoarse whisper.

But he kept going, moving his hand faster and faster, and your walls clenched around him, so tight it hurt, and each subtle brush of a finger caused you to moan and shriek, your hips stuttering, and you felt something growing within you that wasn't pleasure. It was panic. Despite the stimulation, you felt as if he would never be able to get his hand back out, how could that possibly work, it didn't seem right, it all felt too tight and narrow, and in your frenzy, you cried out again and again, more and more sweat covering your bare body.

“Sebastian! Please! Get it out!” you shrieked and thrashed your head against the pillow, whining desperately as the tremors jolted through your body. And suddenly he did and it just worked, he slipped out without any problem, and the sudden loss of him felt almost as bad as when he had been inside your tight walls.

You whimpered softly, your hips twitching, your walls still trying to clench back to their normal state. A cold breeze passed over your skin as you lay there, breathing heavily, completely deliriously at this point. You felt him shifting against you and then his hands were on your face and you didn't know if it was the sweat and tears on your cheeks or your own juices coating his fingers. He brushed his lips against yours softly, causing you to open your eyes lazily.

“It's alright,” he whispered soothingly. “It's all good now. You did so well...”

He rewarded you with another soft kiss and you just leaned into it, too exhausted and shaken to deepen it and just grateful for the break. But you somehow knew that he wasn't done with you yet.

“Do you want to feel good again?” he asked you, watching you closely as his breath ghosted your trembling lips. You wanted to tell him that despite the discomfort you had just experienced, you still felt good, the pleasure was coursing through your nerves way more intense than the pain had done. But you couldn't word it, so you just said: “Yes...”

He smiled and gave you a quick peck, before leaning back again, once more settling between your splayed legs. You watched out of tired eyes how he rummaged through the items lying on the bed and you wondered what he would choose next. After having his hand stretching your insides, you felt that nothing could top that, and indeed he didn't go for the biggest item, but the smallest: an egg-shaped thing on a string.

You felt his hand on your stomach, gently caressing your skin and the tension beneath, while his other hand weighed the object carefully, before he put it to your wet folds. It was surprisingly warm and felt almost comforting against your quivering cunt. He moved it through your wetness and then pushed it past your entrance with one swift nudge of his thumb until it disappeared inside, swallowed by your tight warmth. You shivered slightly, unable to react any differently with your body still mainly out of order.

Then you watched him raise the other end of the string and heard him mumble something under his breath – and once he was done, you flinched so badly, you almost jumped off the bed if you weren't tied by your wrists and ankles. Your body convulsed in shock as you felt the little item inside you vibrating vigorously, your walls clenching around it as it seemed to move on its own, its thrumming motion taking it places you had no idea were this sensitive. You moaned and cried, immediately back to being stimulated out of your mind.

Squirming more and more with the little egg lodged inside you, you bucked your hips and this time, Sebastian held you down as he pushed your pelvis into the bed, watching you with dark eyes and a curious gaze, and even in your mind-blowing ecstasy you noticed the red splotches on his cheeks and the hunger plastered all over his freckled face. You weren't able to watch him any longer as wave after wave of pleasure washed over your body, the little vibrations strong enough to turn those waves into full-on tsunamis as you tried to float above them, hoping not to drown in the sensations.

All your limbs were twitching, your muscles contracting, your walls clenching and unclenching, your heart ready to burst out of your chest. You could barely breathe any more as you gave up fighting it. Bright lights engulfed you, stars danced behind your eyelids, a familiar weightlessness made you forget all the things that had happened up until this point.

Then you heard his voice and he was leaning close enough to whisper into your ear and more and more shivers ran down your spine. “Squirt for me,” you heard him say and you didn't quite know what he meant at first, but then your body reacted all the same as he put his fingers on your clit and rubbed small circles around it, assisting the little vibrating egg in taking you to never-before-experienced heights – and with a force you couldn't control and a shrill shriek you arched your hips off the bed and your release shot out of you, quickly followed by the egg that would have launched into the room as well if it wasn't for the string he was still holding on to.

You slumped back onto the bed, breathing heavily, too exhausted to even open your eyes. He was kissing your earlobe. “Well done,” he whispered and you moaned softly at the sound of his deep voice. His hand trailed up your body, gently teasing and caressing, before he wrapped it around your throat and brought his mouth to your cheek, lapping at your tears. A whimper escaped you and any further noises were silenced as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you demandingly, not allowing you to even turn your head away to catch your breath.

You felt light-headed quickly, not even breathing through your nose seemed to help, and yet you didn't care. You were still floating on the aftershocks of your orgasm, whichever it was by now, and if you were perfectly honest, you'd die a very happy girl if this would have been the end.

But of course it wasn't. How could you even think that he would be done with you just yet? Well, you didn't think, you couldn't, there was only static in your head, such blissful nothingness that was only penetrated by the occasional lightning bolt jolting through your system whenever he would push any of your buttons. And you had so many to choose from, every inch of your body felt sensitive right now and those regions that normally were the most sensitive were throbbing violently – and when he would brush them, you'd flinch and moan into his mouth.

His free hand was on your breast again, pinching and rolling your hard nipple, as his fingers tightened more and more around your throat, squeezing until you felt your eyelids fluttering. Gasping deeply, trying to get air into your lungs, you stared at him, your mouth open and your lips sore and swollen and trembling, and he would only release you when your eyes threatened to roll into the back of your head.

“Breathe,” he commanded and you did, taking quick, heavy breaths, almost wheezing as you tried to fill your lungs again. “Easy, easy,” he whispered and gently caressed your bruised throat. “Slow breaths... in... and out...” he gave you the tempo and you slowly fell into his rhythm, watching him closely as you did so.

Calming down eventually, you even managed to give him a soft smile. You saw him lick his lips and stare at your mouth, before he dove in again and kissed you passionately, throwing breathing calmly to the wind immediately. You whimpered quietly as he pushed his tongue into your mouth and pressed it against yours. You could barely reply the motion and so he pulled your tongue between his lips and sucked gently on it, coaxing more sounds out of your throat as you shivered against him.

He was still somewhat hovering above you, propped on one elbow, his body too far away to feel the heat rush through him. You felt the urge to touch him grow bigger and bigger and your hands twitched helplessly in their confines. All you could think about was the need to feel his soft locks between your fingers or his warm skin beneath them or his firm muscles tensing against your touch, you wanted to feel his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress, giving you another reason to become breathless – but none of this was going to happen, because it didn't look like he would untie you anytime soon.

Luckily he kept at least kissing you for quite a while, his lips sucking on yours, his tongue invading your mouth and licking as far as he could reach, and even though your lips felt raw and swollen, you never wanted it to end, in spite (or maybe because) of the lack of oxygen that left you feeling light-headed. When he would lean back, his heavy breaths hit your shivering lips and you opened your eyes to watch him, taking in with a feeling of glee and satisfaction that he was just as breathless as you.

He stared at you with dark eyes and an intensity that made your legs shake, the hunger for you evident in his gaze. Despite the heated kiss, you felt rather relaxed again – and just realizing that seemed to make him move again. He was back between your legs and without warning grabbed your cunt and pushed two fingers inside, quickly curling them inside you as he pushed his thumb against your clit and his fingertips against that sweet spot right beneath – and you immediately arched your hips against the touch and moaned loudly, any thought about being relaxed quickly out of the window once more.

He held you like that for a moment, his hand like a claw around your pleasure points, and just this motion made you shudder and shiver all over again. His free hand moved over his toy collection and he grabbed a particularly big and long one, yet instead of shoving it into your hole, he brought it up to your lips and pushed it against them.

“Open,” he just said, his voice even lower than before. You did so with hesitation, the tip of that thing really bore resemblance to a cock, and when he slipped it past your bruised lips, you whimpered deeply. “Use your tongue,” he commanded and you started moving your tongue around the object as he shoved it in and out of your mouth, the wet noises mixing with the slight squelching of his hand still gripped around your cunt.

Once your saliva coated the soft rubbery surface of the object, he pulled it out and moved it down between your legs and swiftly exchanged his fingers with it as he pushed it past your tight entrance with a little bit of struggle. You moaned and whimpered, squirming against the intrusion, shuddering deeply as he kept going until it was all the way in and barely poking out of you. He left it in there and removed his hand and you watched in growing displeasure how he stood up from the bed and moved one of the curtains aside.

“Hold that for me, will you?” he whispered and gave you a sly smirk. “Don't lose it like the other one, okay?”

You swallowed and nodded quickly, then watched him disappear from your view. You were left alone on the bed, tied to its posts, a thick immobile thing wedged into your centre and you didn't dare move, nor accidentally clench your walls around it in fear of pushing it out like you had done before. Every passing heartbeat made that harder as you felt it stretching you and the thought alone made you want to buck your hips. Gritting your teeth, you stared up at the ceiling and waited.

While you did, other thoughts flooded your clouded mind. Where did he go? Did he leave me here? What if his room mates come back and find me like this? What if... You stopped yourself before that train of thought could become any more horrifying. Sighing deeply, you looked around and noticed the red, raw skin around your wrists and you winced as you moved them. Suddenly you missed being overstimulated out of your mind, it had made everything so much more tolerable.

“Sebastian?” you whispered quietly, despite knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to hear you. More time passed and you didn't know whether it was minutes or hours, it certainly felt too long for comfort.

Just as you were starting to lose your mind over your situation, several things happened at once. The first, most notable thing was the object lodged inside you – it started humming, lowly vibrating, and you gasped sharply. You felt it moving within you and you had the urge to put your hands on it to keep it in – and as you thought that, you felt the pressure on your wrists lessening and then your hands were free.

You didn't really have time to enjoy your new freedom as you quickly moved your shaking hands down and pressed them between your legs, moaning louder as you kept the thrumming thing deep inside you, thrashing your head back as it hit all the sweet spots while your walls clenched tightly around it, its vibrations causing tremors to rush through your entire body.

If only you could press your thighs together as well. You kicked your legs as they started twitching badly and just like what happened to your wrists, the ropes around your ankles loosened – and not a second too soon. As the tension became almost unbearable, you rolled onto your side, your hands firmly pressed onto your wet folds as you clenched your thighs around them and frantically rocked back and forth, moaning loudly as you rode your high and the vibrating object inside you with everything you had and what was given to you.

Wave after wave crashed over you and you whimpered tiredly into the bedding as you curved yourself into the fetal position, still shuddering deeply as the thing never stopped thrumming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let it go. It felt too good as it filled you up completely, fitting into you so perfectly, an almost familiar feeling as you thought about it.

“Already done with your new toy?” you then heard Sebastian's voice and you looked up almost panicked, because you were without your confines and pleasuring yourself without him being there, but he didn't seem to mind. “I thought you'd like that one...”

You finally saw him at the foot of the bed as he came through the curtain and climbed back onto the bed, his hands on your hips as he gently rolled you around again until you were lying on your back once more. Prying your thighs apart, he then grabbed your hands and rested them on the bed beside you, before he firmly gripped the thrumming toy and pulled it out of you, coaxing a deep moan and several shivers out of you.

As he did so, you saw a thick liquid oozing out of the tip of the object, now really bearing resemblance to a cock – and weirdly enough you suddenly recognized it. “It worked then,” he said quietly and smiled at you. You watched him with a frown before he brought the thing closer to your face, you saw it throbbing and twitching, more and more cum-like substance dripping down its veined shaft.

“Do you like a taste?” he asked – and without hesitation you sat up and raised your shaking hands to cradle the item between your fingers before you gave it a hearty lick. He watched you intently, curiosity back in his warm gaze, yet when your tongue made contact with the toy, you saw him flinching slightly. He took a shuddering breath and licked his lips. “Feels nice,” he whispered.

You stared at him. “You can... feel that?” you asked with your voice hoarse and feeble.

“It's my cock, of course I can feel it,” he said with a chuckle.

Your eyes went wider. “What do you mean, your cock? Did you –” Your gaze wandered to his groin and you heard him laugh.

“No! It's just a simple spell, like a cloning spell with some extra enchantments,” he explained and gently took one of your hands and brought it to the front of his trousers. “See? It's still there,” he said and you could feel his hard length through the fabric – just like you could feel it in your hand, only that it was detached from his body.

Either your mind was still clouded from having too many orgasms or this was both one of the weirdest and yet best ideas you'd ever heard. “Can I... keep it?” you whispered, holding onto the item carefully.

He chuckled deeply. “Only if you keep it well hidden in your dorm room, it is quite sensitive, you know?”

“Is it... always... connected to you?”

“I could lift the spell, but why not live a little dangerously, eh?” he said with a wink. “I trust you won't prank me with it...”

You watched him with your cheeks flushed, his words immediately creating several scenarios how you could use this thing against him – yet in the end your mind always came back to cradling it between your legs when you were alone at night. The thought of having a piece of him with you at all times sounded like a dream. “You can trust me,” you whispered and gave your new favourite toy a soft peck on the head. “I will take good care of it...”

“I'm sure you will,” he said softly and leaned over you to kiss your damp forehead. “How do you feel, by the way?”

You inhaled deeply and watched him, having momentarily suppressed the state of your body. You didn't feel bad, though you just knew that you would be sore for days after having your muscles constantly assaulted like this. Smiling tiredly at him, you said: “I feel good, properly satisfied.”

He narrowed his eyes at that and tilted his head. “Hmm, not what I wanted to hear,” he said with a smirk and in a swift motion he grabbed the toy out of your hand and shoved it back into your cunt without giving you any chance of objection. You moaned deeply and even more so when you saw him inhaling sharply as well. You could only imagine what this must feel like for him.

He then placed his hands on your waist and pushed you slightly up the bed, giving him more room to settle between your legs once more. You saw him waving his wand and out of nowhere came new ropes to wind around your wrists and ankles and tie you back to the bedposts. You squirmed against them, falling into your whining demeanour as you felt your body returning to its overwhelmed and vulnerable condition all over again.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimpered, straining your wrists and bucking your hips, but he only looked at you darkly, pushing lazily against the object wedged between your folds as it started to slip out slightly.

“Please what?” he muttered, chewing on his lips as he watched you.

“I... I want to feel you,” you breathed, barely able to word your needs as the tension started to build up once more. “All of you...”

He smirked at that and tilted his head. When he moved, he pressed his knee right against your centre – and you shrieked in a mixture of surprise, pain and pleasure as the toy slipped deeper, pushing right against your cervix, making your head spin, but the sensation was overpowered by his mouth colliding hard with yours as he kissed you deeply, his own moans slipping past his tongue as he forced it into your mouth.

You wanted to throw your arms around his neck and just hold onto him, but all you could manage to do was a weak twitching of your fingers as they sat forgotten in their confines once more. With his thrumming cock-toy deep inside you, his kiss quickly drove you over the edge as well. Moaning and whimpering against him, you bucked your hips into his knee and took whatever little friction it could give you to push you higher and higher.

As your walls fluttered wildly, the tension inside your stomach burst into a million little pieces of light and you saw stars dancing behind your eyelids as you thrashed your head into the pillow. He never stopped kissing you, his mouth holding yours captive and your shared heavy breaths made you both feel light-headed quickly.

Only after your body ceased shuddering would he finally move. You lay on the bed completely spent, breathless and slightly sore, sweat covering your skin and burning in the bruises he had given you, your hair sticking to your forehead, your lips raw and trembling, your cheeks tear-soaked and flushed, and even though you were a mess and barely able to function any more, he was not done with you still.

“There's one more thing I want to try,” he told you and you felt him shifting against you. You heard the rustle of clothes and then you felt his fingers at your entrance, gently prying the object out of the tight grip of your cunt. You whimpered softly, barely fighting anything any more. When it left your throbbing channel, you missed it already, its warmth and thickness had been almost comforting to you.

Yet you didn't have to miss it long as he suddenly pushed the real thing into you and you moaned deeply as your eyes flew open. He had moved your pelvis up and his thighs beneath yours as he knelt between your legs, one hand on your waist as he guided himself deeper, the other gripping the toy firmly. You watched him out of half-lidded eyes, your breath hitching in your throat as it occurred to you what he might be planning.

You squirmed in your restraints, your stomach immediately tensing up even more, as he moved the hand holding the cock-toy closer to where your bodies were connected. Your breaths were shallow, your walls clenching up in anticipation.

He looked at you then, his gaze dark and hungry, his lips trembling slightly. “This will be interesting,” he said quietly and winked at you, then without further warning pushed the head of the toy between your stretched entrance and his length. You cried out and watched him moan deeply, the pressure on your sensitive skin almost as bad as when he had forced his hand inside you, yet the toy was more forgiving and softer than his knuckles and slipped into your tight space surprisingly fast.

The pain and pressure of the double penetration was still there though and you writhed and whimpered, arching your back into the mattress, trying to ease the sensation of two cocks wedged into your tight channel as your sensitive skin strained around them. He seemed to feel almost as overwhelmed as you as he halted his movements and let the toy rest for a while, only having managed to push its crown in. While you wailed quietly, your body shuddering in constant tremors, you held your breath and watched him as he took a few deep breaths before he continued pushing the object further.

You whimpered louder, feeling so full already it was almost painful. You could feel him stretching you more and more and when the toy was fully wedged in there, you felt his body shuddering against yours. His hands found your waist and he gripped it with shaking fingers. Again you wished you could hold onto him, experience this pain together, comfort each other through it, but your hands were still out of order.

“You are so... tight...” you heard him mumble, his voice low and gravelly. “Damn, so fucking tight...” He kept muttering under his breath, breathing loudly through his nose as you watched him, suddenly more interested in watching him than focusing on your own discomfort. It came back to you when he started moving his hips against you.

A shrill shriek escaped you. It wasn't the constant clenching of your walls as he stretched you, it was the strain on your entrance that made you cry out in pain. “Try to... relax...” he urged you through laboured breaths. But you couldn't, it felt impossible to relax in a situation like this. He seemed to realize that and moved one of his hands down to rub at your clit roughly. You wailed and thrashed your head into the pillow, but despite the not so gentle touch it helped in easing the pressure.

As he kept moving against you, the toy and his cock scraping against your walls and each other, you were quickly overwhelmed by the feeling – yet it started to grow on you. Having two of the same thing inside you felt like nothing you had ever felt before, it was both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying to think about, having your cunt stretched like this – then again it was double the sensation you normally had when he filled you with his girth, it was just more of him, you had to remind yourself as he slowly picked up his pace and slammed his hips firmer into yours.

Your moans mixed with his and the vice-like grip of his hands on your waist kept you from squirming too much, forcing you to just feel him moving within you, feel him building up that tension that coiled inside your stomach, feel him pushing himself to his limits for a change. His groans and grunts grew louder and as you focused on him instead of the constant stretch that would drive you insane otherwise, you watched him come undone right in front of you.

You usually didn't get to see him like this as he always pushed you to your limits before he took care of his own pleasure. And as you were just a whimpering mess whenever he would do that, it never gave you the chance to watch him become a mess as well. Even if this meant that his experiment wasn't as pleasurable to you, it seemed to work wonders on him and you revelled in the sight of him.

Now it was his hair that stuck to his damp forehead, his flushed cheeks and his trembling lips as he worked his hips against you, staring down at you in laboured concentration. You wanted to touch him so badly again, run your hands over his cheeks, down his chest, ease his rapid heartbeat with soothing circles of your palms, wipe his hair out of his eyes and dig your fingers through his locks – but alas your hands were –

You moved them and suddenly the ropes were gone. Too surprised to wonder how that happened, you followed the images in your head and moved your hands to lie on his. He looked up equally surprised, too exerted to give you any other facial expression. You slipped your fingers between his, easing his grip on your waist and forcing him to focus on you, and he complied, interlocking his hands with yours as he kept thrusting hard and fast against you.

You bit your lip, still fighting the pain of the sensation, yet with your hands free you were able to feel him more and better, and following a whim, you pulled his hands towards you, causing him to shift against you as he leaned over you.

And suddenly you felt his entire weight on you, knocking all the air out of your lungs as he pushed you into the mattress, which also meant that his cock and the toy slipped even deeper into you, filling you up so badly that a pained scream escaped you. He quickly muffled it by smashing his mouth against yours. You cried soundless tears through his comforting kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you held onto him desperately, hoping it would end soon.

Soon was a relative term because in this new position it seemed easier for him to move. He moaned into your mouth as he fell into a steady rhythm. With the toy wedged between your walls and his cock, he was only able to move his hips in tiny, rapid snaps, yet the constant friction and pressure quickly got him to where he wanted – and surprisingly enough you as well.

As you felt him (and his enchanted toy) twitching inside you, his jerky movements quickening, you felt your walls tightening around both intruders, the tension in your stomach coiling up painfully, but when he gave you that one final thrust, pushing his entire body into it as he buried his balls in your folds, hitting your cervix with eerie precision, you arched your head back and cried out in what could only be pleasure as he had finally managed to push away the pain.

Your muscles contracted and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands gripping his hair forcefully as you moaned through your release – and at the same time he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close as his entire body shuddered deeply, both of his cocks spilling their seed deep inside of you. His warmth was overwhelming and with double the amount of cum pumping into you, you quickly felt it spilling out – and you didn't ask yourself how anything could fit past the strained skin of your entrance.

Your body seemed to be capable of a lot of things you had never anticipated, as this evening and his consistent experiments had shown you. In your haze you couldn't even remember all the things he had stuffed you and pleasured you with, even though it would probably be your body that would remember more than your clouded mind. With all the strain and pressure it had to endure and the marks and bites he had left on your skin, with how your muscles ached from the constant spasms, you could be lucky if you were able to leave this bed any time soon.

Not that you necessarily wanted that. Lying beneath him, smothered by his body, impaled by his throbbing cocks, you didn't feel the need to be anywhere else. You were with him, double the amount of him even, you could feel him, warm and heavy and comforting, his hair between your fingers and his mouth pressed to yours as he kissed you lazily while both of you came down from your highs slowly.

His breaths eased against you and your own shuddering ebbed away, but only until he shifted on top of you again, causing you to wince. You grabbed his face and looked at him. “Don't move,” you whispered.

He raised his eyebrows. “Doesn't this hurt you?”

“It's a good hurt,” you replied quietly, which earned you a shaking of his head and a frantic kiss.

“You shouldn't be in pain like this,” he breathed against your lips. “I never meant to... cause you pain...”

“I know you didn't,” you said softly, your thumbs caressing his flushed cheeks. “But it's okay. I can handle it.” You chuckled softly. “If your experiments have shown you anything then it's that I can definitely handle whatever you throw my way.”

He smiled almost shyly. “You certainly did, I am really impressed,” he whispered, pushing his lips to yours once more. “And I am... grateful that you indulge me like this... that's not something anyone would do.”

“Well, I'm not anyone, I'm your person, and like I told you many times before: you can do anything to me.”

He chuckled at your words. “Careful what you wish for, love,” he teased and kissed your cheek, before he started moving against you once more.

You fought the urge to cry out and pressed your lips together, breathing loudly through your nose. He watched you, yet he continued to shift his hips back and slowly pulled out of the tight fit of your cunt. When the pressure lessened almost immediately once at least one of him was out, you inhaled deeply, then watched with your heart thundering inside your chest how he poked at the toy still lodged in your clenching walls.

He leaned back on his knees, his fingers pushing past the mess he had left inside you to retrieve the object, but your walls didn't seem to want to part from it just yet. “Help me out a little?” he asked quietly and with a smirk, and you complied, albeit reluctantly, bucking your hips upwards and deliberately clenching and unclenching to push the toy out.

But it wouldn't budge. “Just... leave it in,” you suggested with your cheeks burning.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said a little breathlessly, still prodding his fingers into you but he only seemed to push it further in.

“Perhaps I don't want to let go yet,” you whispered. “Perhaps I want to keep that part of you with me...”

He stared at you and blinked slowly, before he looked down at his seed seeping out of your hole. More or less reluctantly he stilled his attempts of pulling the toy out and leaned back more, inhaling deeply. As he still considered your words, he turned to your ankles and freed them from the rope with a flick of his finger. You remained lying there, motionless, with only the occasional twitch jolting through your thighs.

“That... might be the sweetest and the most perverted thing you ever said,” he eventually replied and there was a sly glint in his dark eyes. You laughed at that and reached your arms out to him, beckoning him closer. As he lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms, he chuckled. “And I thought I was the pervert here...”

“You still are,” you said and smirked at him as you snuggled against him. “But I fear that you had a bad influence on me.”

“Oh certainly,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, his hand trailing over the marks and bruises he had left on your skin. “And I might regret giving you this toy after all...”

“Aww, but why? I told you I'll take good care of it. I'll keep it warm and cosy and carry it with me everywhere –” you started until his look of surprise and indignation caused you to laugh out loud. “What? You don't believe me? Just imagine it for a moment: as I walk through the hallways, hurrying to my next class, I'll always have you with me, wedged inside, my walls embracing you lovingly. Sitting might be interesting, but I'm certainly up for the challenge.”

“Alright, now that is the most perverted thing you ever said!” he exclaimed and shook his head, kissing your jaw. “And I don't believe a word you're saying, you won't even make out with me in public!”

“That's not true, I made out with you in public countless times, I just don't want anyone else to see my pussy, okay? You have it easy with that convenient flap in your breeches while I have to expose myself to everyone around – and I really don't want to scar a first-year for life, you know?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through you. “But traversing the halls with my cock wedged between your legs is okay?”

“Well, it's just your cock, not as conspicuous as if your whole body would be attached to it,” you smirked. “Easy to hide under my skirt.”

He groaned as you shifted your hips, your walls clenching tightly around the aforementioned toy. “Oh what have I done?” he mumbled and sighed deeply.

“Created a monster,” you whispered and leaned closer to kiss him softly, chuckling against him.

End notes:

And on that last sentence let me tell you that this motherfucker of a pixel boy truly created a monster in me – I mean look at all the smut I've written, each piece more and more deranged I feel like. Don't get me wrong, I feel very lucky to have this constant muse around me and I've certainly written more in these last months than I've written in literally more than a decade so I am very grateful for that!

But come on, how am I supposed to go back to writing fluff? Just fluff? I don't think I can go back to that. And I hope that you, dear reader, won't mind the filth I'm producing. This fandom is a constant source of inspiration and my outlet for things I never even considered letting out before, but here we are, writing smut after smut.

So Kinktober continues, even though I've already put so many different kinks into the three pieces I wrote for it, but I'm sure I'll find more to explore soon. You just wait, my mind is a deep and dirty well of even dirtier ideas.

[ masterlist ]

Previous Kinktober submissions:

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (somnophilia, tentacles)

It is that time again (breeding kink)

The horny ghost (voyeurism, masturbation, spectrophilia)

It belongs to me (deepthroating, semi-public)

A Filthy Fantasy (1/2) (cnc, bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial)

A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #kinktober

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