#anyways take this mini drabble

[yayll]

omg PLSPLSPLS GIVE US GIRLDAD!DAZAI!!! Im literally so obsessed w ur work and luv luv luv reading it <3

just wanna say thank u so much anon for sending in the CUTEST request ever i have never thought abt it this way and when i finally did it was over for me. it wrote itself. THANK U FOR LIKING MY WORK THATS SO SWEET AHHH :') i keep getting ill so srry it's a lil late but i am so thankful for you trusting me w ur concept. mwahhhh.

~ a little something about girldad!Dazai simply trying his best, and loving it ~

Dazai never thought the day would come when his life finally felt complete. First, you happened to him and that was something he couldn't even fathom in a million lifetimes. It wasn't meant for him, and letting love into his heart felt like going against the nature of things. He struggled with it for a long time, pushing you away and making sure you realized this wasn't something worth pursuing... but you never relented, and he stopped fighting the longing for something more. You made him feel it was okay to want, to yearn, to need. And so came along every single repressed desire he had ever had. The love between you bloomed, and he thought this was the height of it all; The bandages he wore over his body were no longer grim reminders of his lack of humanity and the masks he wore on the daily. Those frayed wraps of fabric were symbols of love returning, of patience, of a lived in soul, and he no longer had to maintain them alone. He had you.

And then one day, he suddenly had a little girl in his life.

Another life to nurture and to start anew with, and his fear was that he yet again could not redeem himself from his past, but he was determined for her, for you and for himself to not let that be the case. When you gave him the most precious thing he didn't think he ever wanted nor could ever have, that was the day he vowed to be the epitome of a true figure worth looking up to. Osamu Dazai, the family man! Dad of the year!

... Except today, when he woke up late to take the apple of his eye to preschool. You were out of town, and though you eventually claimed to have faith in his solo parenting skills, it was a complete leap of faith. He comforted you for hours, how hard could it be? He can be both parents at once! How cruel of you to even doubt him. He remembers the look on your face when he slammed the door on you while holding your precious angel in his arms, both of them giggling while they waved you off as if they rehearsed it.

Aaaand now he realized why you were so worried. He looks at the time and he springs out of bed, running off to her bedroom. She even sleeps like a little lamb, he thinks to himself. He rushes at her side and softly turns her over.

"Little love, wake uuupppp..."

She pouts, shaking her head as she shifts in her sleep. He sighs and tries again a little more desperately.

"If you wake up, that will be really good for daddy, otherwise mommy will kill me! Up we go!"

He picks her up, and she rubs her eyes as Dazai does the most rushed morning routine ever.

He gets her dressed, though the socks don't match, and when he does her pigtails, they're lopsided. How do you do it?! And now he has to FEED her?! He stuffs a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth while giving her a proper bowl, but they're so late he thinks they should just start walking now.

"Take the bowl with you, we can do this thing called eat and walk! Yes?"

"'Kay, daddy!"

She simply giggles, not understanding how dire it is for her to make it today. She holds onto her cereal bowl as he grabs her backpack, both of them walking out into the street. Dazai's fast walking and her bowl sloshes a bit as she tries to match his pace and eat at the same time.

She's waddling adorably, and he gets lost in watching her carefully while also literally getting lost finding the school. He stops at the crosswalk, and thinks to himself. She looks up at him with a milk mustache, and her soft melodic voice rings once more like a voice of reason. She points to the right.

"That way! hehe."

Dazai has no time to fact check this, and at this point she's parenting him. You'd pass out of laughter if you could see him right now. They rush towards the school, and when he drops her off at the gate, he gives her a big kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? Now give daddy the cereal bowl. How yum was that?"

She cheers, smiling wide.

"Yum!!!!"

He smirks, and takes the bowl. At least he got that right, that smile alone is worth every late start to his mornings. He waves at her as she enters the school, and forgets he's holding the bowl still, her teacher looking at him like he's deranged. You were so proud to hear that his first time parenting alone went so smooth! What you didn't know was that your little girl did most of the work keeping him on track. Still counts, right?

Another time he was exemplary was when he had just given her a bath and you were supervising to make sure he got her routine down.

"Osamu, that's the conditioner. The shampoo is over there."

You laugh while pointing at the clearly marked bottle. He rolls his eyes, smirking as he continues to rub it in her little swirl of dark hair.

"Oh please, I knew that. This makes it soft! And all detangled... It's a better routine, trust me. This is so much better."

He was totally bullshitting, he had no idea there was more than one hair product ever. This is the same man who used to find showers foreign and eat canned crab for every meal. You simply nodded, seeing right through his facade. But it was all so endearing watching your daughter splash the water on his face and play with rubber duckies, it was a dream come true. It was a dream you knew was more precious to him than anything, so you let him have his fun.

Once bath time is over, he places her on the bed in her diaper and walks out to grab her a change of clothes. Uh oh, he forgot today was laundry day! He walks back into the room a few moments later, thinking of how to pivot without having to bother you when he sees his little angel wrapped head to toe in a full roll of his bandages. His eyes go wide at the sight of the wrapped up toddler, and he laughs nervously as he rushes over while she has the time of her life squealing and rolling around the bed. He pretends to be mad.

"Little love! That's not clothes, silly! That's for daddy only, you have your own."

She simply disregards this, her mind focusing on how hilarious it would be if she just started making bubbles with her saliva instead. Dazai chuckles again, and puts his hands on his hips.

"Oh, such attitude! You know, l'm gonna have to do it... Remember when I told you about daddy's old job? I'm gonna have to get mean againnn..~"

He immediately launches himself onto the bed, tickling her through the thick fabric, and when you rush over you find them both just collapsed on the bed, Dazai counting her fingers and toes in order to distract her enough to unwrap her. Luckily, you had a spare onesie for her to save the day... even if it took the both of you to get her out of her improvised outfit. What a strong willed little one! You hoped this wasn't a special abillity developing...

It's no surprise she's a daddy's girl either, a mini Dazai at her core with your balancing characteristics on the surface. She was a little menace, sticking her tongue out at dogs every time she saw them because Dazai would do the same. He would even go as far as to help her dress like her hero! Of course you both had a stroke when you saw how tightly she wore that bolo tie, but the laugh after was worth the worry... After you scolded both of them... but it proved useless against two of the most experienced charmers you've ever met. You just couldn't win.

You especially could never get used to the sight after a long day of existing in the real world, simply watching her climb up to the couch and playing with Dazai's hair as she nuzzles herself into his shoulder, right in the crook of his neck. It was just as intense for his poor little heart as well. The way she'd yank on a strand while he pretended to be asleep was priceless, or when she'd stick her finger in his nose, causing him to have a sneezing fit soon after. It was almost karmic the way she both adored him and put him in his place, just like you.

"Daddy has brown hair because he drinks chocolate milk."

"Daddy stinks today. Throw him away!"

"Daddy looks like a mummy. Do you like mummies?"

"Who's Kunikida? He yelled at daddy today, it was funny!"

She'd babble on about all kinds of curious nonsense. You'd simply nod and agree. She was never wrong!

But what really got to you was watching her pass out on his head after hours of playtime, and the way Dazai would finally open his eyes with that smug smile of his, scooping her up and carefully taking her to bed. He tucks her in, whispering about all the adventures they'll have tomorrow and the days after. About all the rules they'll break together, and mysteries they'll solve when he takes her to work with him. He doesn't tell bedtime stories per se, but he spends all his time having actual conversations with her until she dozes off because he cannot believe this is a little extension of him and he's just as fascinated with knowing her the way she is with him. With life.

She's full of it, something he wasn't for a long time, and it brings him to tears when he sometimes thinks about it too long in private.

You're both his life and he didn't realize he could still feel regret like he does when he thinks of all the times he spent trying to end his own existence. It's a whole different world, and sure, he also loves to use her as an excuse to continue to slack off at work, and maaaybe he likes to sometimes force Atsushi to turn so she can pet him like the giant cat he is out of both their own entertainment, but dying is no longer the priority. It hasn't been for a long time, and he thinks he's doing an okay job... At being a dad, at being a human, at belonging in this world.

When he finally gets in bed with you, he feels whole. He also feels impish when he turns over and whispers.

"Maybe it's time for another, hm?~"

Oops!

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I’m the anon who sent you that ask about Sonic and Shadow’s relationship in the Chronic Sonic au. If your post saying you ignore long asks was directed at me, can you please just… post the latest version without answering? I would prefer to save it to my likes and maybe have other fans read my thoughts.

thank you

Well no, it wasn’t just directed at you, there are a couple long asks in my inbox (some of which are positive and very beloved and i cherish, Dopambles I’m looking at you <3). But you’ve sent your ask twice now and this one too so I’ll answer this one. I don’t really want to make this a big long thing, but I also don’t really wanna leave ya hanging when this seems so important to you so lets do this (everyone else can ignore this if ya want I’m going long-winded through everything.)

So, reasons i don’t like to respond to or even post long asks sometimes lets do this [cracks knuckles]

1. I don’t like posting things onto my blog that I haven’t checked over first. I struggle a lot in reading and comprehending long asks. I don’t know why, it’s weird, okay. Let’s leave it at that. I’m not gonna blindly post walls of texts to my blog without checking them over first, because I want to make sure I’m filtering asks so nothing harmful gets posted to my blog. You’d be surprised at how whack a lot of anons can get. Not to say your ask was whack, but I also am struggling to read it so it’s hard to say for sure! It’s not due to the nature of your ask, it is simply because my brain be like dat.

2. Sometimes, I just don’t like having to scroll through walls of texts that aren’t my own to get to my latest posts. I get a lot of asks as it is. I do love answering them, but when they get long, the amount of time it takes to scroll through em makes it hard to refer back to my previous posts and is just is not intuitive or fun when interacting with my own blog, which leads me to my next point

3. This is my space. My blog is by me for me. I choose to post and share to interact and have fun with other people but at the end of the day this blog is my space. I did not create it for anyone other than me. I welcome the people who find joy in my stories here, but this remains my space. If i was being paid for this it’d be different, I’d absolutely curate and change things to make it a better and easier experience for those that i charged to be here, but like… I’m not being paid for this? And to ask me to do what you want in my space so that you can have the experience you want is… i dunno it sounds a little entitled. (I’m not saying that you ARE entitled, only that it sounds like it to me personally.) Contacting me even after I expressed my difficulty in answering asks to try and convince me to post it for your sake is a little rude. I’m not a professional creator, I’m not a person with fans, I’m just a random dude trying to have a good time with other people on a dumpster-fire website. I’m not a creator trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time. This is what i do in my free time to relax and—

4. —being a moderator for other peoples hc’s and conversations is not personally relaxing to me. My blog is not a public confessions blog and I am not a public message board. I am honoured when people share their personal stories and how what I doodle has helped them feel seen and that things will be okay, but I’m not a place for other people to come say what they want to each other, I’m a person, not a message board. How other people use Tumblr is up to them, however, I am not going to change how I use tumblr so that you can have a better experience when it will make the experience worse for me.

5. If i answer asks, I don’t draw. And I like drawing. If I’m posting asks (even without answering them) and stressing about being the middle man in conversations that I will have to regulate to make sure conversations stay kind, that takes a lot of time and energy and I got so incredibly burnt out when i tried to do that. So i stopped. And I will not be starting up again simply so you can have a good time, because I will have a bad one. And this is my space to not have a bad time. If something stresses me out, I will not do it here, it is as simple as that. I have my whole irl to be stressed about.

These are some of the reasons I don’t like to post long asks. I have notified you that I struggle to read, I don’t understand why you continue pushing. I have amazing anon’s who send wonderful long asks who have been kind and considerate with me about my struggles reading and processing. They continue to send their wonderful asks and have assured me it’s okay if I never post them. I am confused as to why you cannot seem to respect my decision as well.

The final reason regarding my hesitance in posting your ask in particular is simply that your hc was not accurate to how I was aiming to portray the characters in the current timeline. You are more than welcome to hc and speculate, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I cannot simply post it without answering it like you suggest because I would need to clarify that it’s not true. When I used to do that, people would start to misinterpret my au’s and it stressed me out. It takes hours for me to write up responses to things sometimes because I want to make sure I’m being kind and thoughtful and accurate. I am honoured that you shared something personal but what you wrote is simply not where the characters are at right now. It could be them in the future, but it is still early in the au so that kind of resentment hasn’t set in yet. Shadow is hurting because he’s taking the brunt of Sonic’s negativity but he is resigned to it because for him nothing else matters as long as Sonic stays alive, even if he has to be the person Sonic hates in all this and that is heavy. He’s angry at him when he does not take care of himself, but he is not resentful. Sonic struggles with being a burden on all of his friends, not just Shadow. The way you described the relationship was closer to how Tails and Sonic interact than Shadow and Sonic and even then, there’s more going on that I just don’t have the time or energy to really walk through. And besides, I want to save that energy to draw out things later.

As i shared with another commenter who asked something similar, I can absolutely DM you your ask back if you want to save it. However I don’t understand why you need me to post it to save it your likes if you simply want to save it. You have your own blog you can post it to. Why does it need to be on my blog? Why do I have to do extra work so you can have an easier time to do what you want? I am very grateful for your interaction and love of my comic, and I understand it’s frustrating when people make things harder for you to have a good time, but that’s exactly what you’re doing to me by asking me to change how I use tumblr to suit your wants instead of what is easiest for me. I am not a public service you pay for. I am a person, a full time student with family issues, struggling siblings that I’m trying to help, a person who is struggling myself. I have a limited amount of energy in a day, I get tired quickly. If i want to continue to find joy in drawing I have to set boundaries. You may not always know why someone does something, I guarantee there is more here that I will not share because it is personal. Sometimes you just have to be okay with not knowing, you have to be okay not understanding, and you have to be okay without an explanation that makes sense to you. All you need to do is understand that often times there is a reason people behave the way they do. It’s not a reflection on you or their opinion of you, it is simply many other factors at play that lead to such an outcome.

I sincerely hope this did not offend you, I am not angry with you, nor do I wish for any of this to be taken as scolding or upset you. If it has come across that way, I apologize. I am sorry I am not in a state to give you what you want, and I’m thankful for your patience with me in reading through this and I hope it is enough to at least paint a little bit of a picture as to why I will not be posting your ask. It’s unfortunate that I ended up spending hours addressing this anyway both to you and to another commenter—the very thing I wanted to avoid—but I value you as a person and did not want to leave you feeling negatively if I could change that. I hope this does not affect your enjoyment or experience with how you were having fun with my au, and if it does I am deeply regretful. However, I do have to set boundaries and make sure I’m doing okay or there would be no AU at all. Thanks for your understanding and I hope you have a day as kind as you are.

[celestial--sapphic]

5th January, 1892

"I think that would be cheating, Pops. If I am honest.” Evelyn has to admit, giving a sideways look to her girlfriend who is half-stooping next to her in front of Professor Ronen's elaborate collection of butterflies. 

The Hufflepuff's gaze is focused specifically on one of the winged insects in the tallest glass chamber which sports a mix of vivid colours; rusted red hues on the main part of its delicate, paperthin wings, with black, soft daffodil yellow and an iridescent blue tingeing the edges with spots like blurred ink on wet parchment. Evelyn was never quite sure if the butterflies in question were still alive and enchanted to live inside the glass chambers indefinitely or if they are taxidermy charmed to flutter their wings at regular intervals through some exceptional reanimation spell. The Slytherin is equally never sure which version she prefers. 

"Cheating?" Poppy asks curiously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tilting her head up slightly to look up at Evelyn from underneath those thick, long lashes that Evelyn never fails to find impossibly attractive. 

"Yes, well doesn't the book expect you to find them out and about in the real world?" Evelyn replies, gesturing absently in the direction of the butterflies and beyond.  

The book, in question, is a one of a set of three spotter guides she bought from Tomes and Scrolls for Poppy as a Christmas present; The Observer’s Guide to British Butterflies, The Observer’s Guide to British Flowers and Observer’s Guide to British Birds. The Hufflepuff absolutely loved them (nearly knocking Evelyn’s glass of mulled cider out of her hand when she pulled her into a hug after unwrapping them) and immediately got to work excitedly filling them in. It was less than three weeks since Christmas and she had already cheerfully ticked off a number of native Scottish birds and hardy flora that can survive the weather, like snowdrops and hellebores. However, given the unforgiving, biting winter weather in the Highlands Poppy had made limited (see: non-existent) progress on the butterflies edition, to her disappointment.   

Poppy hums. “I suppose you are right, it wouldn’t be completely honest. Truly, I would prefer to see the peacock butterfly in real life anyway. They must look so beautiful when they fly freely, imagine the colours…” She trails off, her gaze drifting back to the glass chambers and the regular beating of coloured wings. 

“I would hazard there are a fair few people who get frustrated with the rare ones and just end up going to the Natural History Museum to tick them off,” Evelyn muses, stepping closer into Poppy’s bubble of space, to look closer herself at the butterfly which had Poppy so enraptured. 

"The what?" 

“Natural History Museum.” Evelyn repeats, assuming Poppy hadn’t heard her. 

“The what, sorry?” Poppy asks again.  

“The Natural History Museum, in Kensington, in London?” 

Poppy turns her attention back to the taller girl and gives Evelyn a completely blank look and a small shake of her head.

“Is that… muggle?” The Hufflepuff asks curiously. Poppy having grown up completely in the wizarding world and Evelyn in the muggle world they had found plenty of things in the course of their relationship that one or the other didn’t know about. Poppy telling Evelyn she had never used the London Underground being one example that always springs to mind.    

“You've... you've never been to the Natural History Museum?" Evelyn couldn’t believe it. How had Poppy Sweeting not been to the Natural History Museum? Regardless if it was a muggle institution, she would have bet a Galleon the Hufflepuff's gran would have taken the her at some point, given their joint love of the natural world, magical and otherwise. 

Evelyn knew, at that moment, exactly what they were doing for Poppy’s 17th birthday next month.

[nymphoniah]

lessons learned | logan howlett

AN: here's a little drabble about logan fucking you from behind, keeping you in a headlock, squished between his biceps <3 and also some dirty talk here and there!

pairing: mean!logan x afab!reader

content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), dom!logan, choking, dacryphilia, name calling, porn without plot, dirty talk, creampies, unprotected sex, pet names (princess, doll, etc.), size kink, mark leaving (ie. hickeys), breeding kink, brat taming, rough sex

logan sees the way you watch his arms hungrily, your lust blown pupils observing the way his muscles twitch when he's feeling tired. he knows the chokehold he has on you.

just a poor little thing, wrapped around his finger.

"i see the way you look at my arms, darlin", he grunts, manhandling you so your back presses against his chest, his toned arms snaking around your waist, keeping you locked in place.

"you don't even try to hide it," logan adds, pressing kisses against your shoulder, his hands working at the straps of your tank top, slowly sliding them down to reveal your tits.

"such a dirty girl, hm?" he teases, rolling the sensitive buds between his thumb and index finger.

"were you ever taught that it was rude to stare?" he hisses, tugging at your nipples, making you wince out in pain. logan smirks at your audible displeasure, now turning his attention from your tits to your neck.

"i’m gonna mark you up doll, ‘oughta teach you a lesson somehow," he growls. logan presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, making his way down to your nape, planting wet kisses along the way.

you lean forwards, giving him easier access to your neck—and when you give him an inch, he takes a mile.

his kisses get more erratic, sloppier, messier, hungrier. he can’t hold himself back, he needs to mark you, and absolutely wants to show the whole world that you’re his.

and so he sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your neck, paying sweet attention to how your weak moans escaped from your lips. he’d nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave those love bites you both oh-so carnally desire.

your brain is all fuzzy from the stinging pain you felt on your neck, mixed alongside the growing pleasure you felt between your legs as he simultaneously paws at your tits.

“i can’t take it lo, s’too much,” you whine, shutting your eyes tight. tears start forming around your waterline as he continues his assault on your neck.

just as your vision starts to get hazy, he wraps his left arm around your neck, keeping your face snug between his forearm and bicep.

“be a good girl and fuckin’ take it,” he commands, a singular claw popping out of his right hand, slicing through your mini-skirt to reveal your lacy black pair of panties.

sheathing his claw, he hastily pulls them down to reveal your sopping wet cunt. “fuck me…” he hisses, admiring your cunt in all its glory.

“such a dirty fuckin’ whore, you getting off on this?” he says smugly, slipping a finger between your folds, observing the way your pussy sucks him in.

you weakly nod as you remain sandwiched in his headlock. teetering between the lines of passing out and losing consciousness, you mumble out a string of words—something along the lines of “i need you to fuck me,” or “fuckin’ put it in”; they both mean the same thing to logan anyways.

he obliges, with one arm wrapped around your neck, and the other hastily working at the belt of his jeans. in one swift motion, his boxers and jeans hit the floor in tandem, freeing his cock from the confines of the tight denim.

he spits in his hand, pumping his cock a couple times before he finally lines himself up, and slides himself in, down to the hilt. your pussy sucks him in like a vice, the two of you moaning in unison.

“you’re so tight for me, princess.” he groans, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, fully sheathing himself out, and pushing his full length back into you.

the sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. the pace of which he fucked you made you dizzy, the grip around your neck adding to the immense pleasure you felt in your cunt.

you attempt to press kisses against his bicep as the muscle secures you in place, but you fail to do so, as shown by your wine red lip stick smudged all over his arm.

“such a naughty whore, suckin’ me in like this” he teases, his free hand pressing against the bulge on your stomach, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his. “need this dick to fill you up, huh?”

and you whine as much as your parched voice allowed you to. “want you so bad, lo” you mumble incoherently. “need you stuff me with your cum.”

“such a filthy mouth for a sweet little girl like you,” logan grunts, the movement of his hips getting sloppier. “beg for it.”

“need you to fuckin’ breed me,” you moan, “make me yours,” you cry out— and that’s what makes logan snap.

with a few final deep thrusts, he finishes inside you. his hot ropes of cum fill your cunt to the brim; your arousal mixed with his cum leaks out of your sopping hole before he even pulls out.

he keeps his cock inside you for a minute, pumping whatever he has left inside of you, and finally pulls out. he winces, already missing the way your gummy walls wrapped tightly around his cock.

“need to keep that in you…” he says playfully, plugging your cunt with his thumb, the calloused pad making sure that his cum is stuffed deep inside you.

“now let that be a lesson for you, doll,” he quips, removing his thumb, slipping it into his mouth to taste the mixture of the two of you.

he then brings his thumb to your bottom lip, inviting you to have a taste for yourself. the heady taste of his cum combined with your slick had you moan around him.

he pulls his thumb away from your mouth with a pop, and you look up at him with your fucked-out eyes. you simply nod your head and give him a lazy smile.

surely it wouldn’t hurt to stare at him every now and then.

[wonysugar]

ex-bestfriend ewb aeri uchinaga

a/n : no actual moodboard(tm)… no title…. what the fuck is wonysugar even about at this point. also! too many words to consider this a drabble but also not elaborate enough to consider a full fledged fic… take this as a mini-fic and whatnot

cw : heavyyy somnophilia but consent is like kind of established beforehand but not really since they technically don’t fw each other so it’s kinda cnc… whatever any of that means, cheating, masturbation, scissoring, fingering, clit play, aeri’s high as FAWKK. and she breaks into reader’s room, lawl

you guys had fought that day.

like you do any other day, at this point.

apparently! you were talking shit about her stupid, artificial and joke of a relationship to other people. of course you would do that, you had nothing else better to do after all. it’s not like you had exams and other priorities to worry about on a day to day basis!

while it is true you said her and her boyfriend weren’t a good match, it’s not like you spent day and night speaking on her. you simply once stated a fact. nothing more, nothing less.

of course, she didn’t believe that whatsoever.

in fact, she was absolutely convinced you did more than that. she was convinced you actively prayed on her relationship’s downfall, how could she not? it was so painfully obvious; to the way you eyed her down in the bus whenever she talked to him, the way you glared at him whenever he looked in your direction, the way you’d smirk and whisper things to your friend whenever you saw her walking down the halls, stealing glances from her—hell, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like you were jealous of her.

yeah, that’s gotta be it, you were jealous of her!

…is what she believed, anyway.

the truth was, yeah, you were envious… but it was definitely not of her. you couldn't give less of a fuck about him, frankly.

you were envious of him, though. he got all the attention.

aeri was your best friend before becoming his girlfriend. you’re the one who watched her grow up into what she is today, and she was the one to witness your development into young adulthood. you guys went from pushing each other on swing sets and doing your basic addition homework together to getting high together and… what, making out in her room when her parents weren’t home?

hell, he probably didn’t even know you were her first kiss. she probably swore up and down he was her first, anyway.

nonetheless, due to multiple accumulated misunderstandings, that all stopped.

your numerous years of pure friendship and love were killed with nothing but a few crossed wires.

now you just tell each other empty threats and roll your eyes at one another. cute, right?

whatever, you thought to yourself, you’d done enough reminiscing for the day. soon enough, you slipped under the covers of your comfy bed wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants. it was a rather chilly night, you physically couldn’t allow yourself to sleep with no pants on, as saddening as that might’ve been for you.

that being said, you still kept the window open. you enjoyed the feeling of the cold yet light breeze kissing your face whenever you dreamed.

feeling yourself slowly dozing off, your eyes fluttered shut as the minutes pass. eventually, after a few hours, you’re deep in sleep, practically snoring as you’re tightly hugging your teddy bear, laying on your back.

exhausted would be an understatement; you were beat.

so beat that you couldn’t possibly shake awake at the sound of somebody audibly breaking into your room.

that somebody being none other than aeri.

what the fuck was she even doing there? even she herself wasn’t sure. one thing she did know, though, was that she was gonna make you regret ever saying anything about her relationship. of course, she wasn’t thinking rationally whatsoever; the weed in her system had killed every ounce of reason left in her, and she found it more practical to operate with her feelings.

and the feelings in question? they told her to break into your house through that same window you so conveniently left open!

she stepped foot closer to you, watching you sleep. you were absolutely clueless on what was going on near you.

aeri had always found you pretty, but you looked especially breathtaking in that moment. you looked so… peaceful, serene. seeing you like this made her nostalgic; she yearned for the moments where you would look at her with an expression just as warm as that. the moments where she’d talk about something as trivial as a corny song her favorite artist at the time released and you would just... sit there and listen.

you would always listen attentively to whatever she had to say.

her man rarely ever did that. he was always too busy to even look at her when she talked. yet, he's the only one she gives her whole attention to.

funny how that works, huh.

then, she noticed how your graphic tee had seemed to drag itself upwards, unintentionally yet entirely revealing your stomach, as well as the fact itself that you weren’t even wearing a bra underneath.

was that the reason she got on top of you? no, of course it wasn’t; she had a prove to point, that’s what! the point being that you ran your mouth about something that doesn't concern you, and that she was gonna rightfully ridicule and humiliate you for it. she had no problem with touching you in such a suggestive manner.

yeah, she hated your fucking guts now and would rather die a horrible death than sit in the same room as you for more than 5 minutes… but you’ve always had a great body, and even greater tits, that was undeniable.

so, she gently pulled your t-shirt upwards, leaving space for her head and eventually got to licking on your chest while you slept. entranced by the feeling of your nipples grazing her numb tongue, she kept her eyes hooded as she watched out for your reaction. you did squirm around a bit once she started fondling the other breast with her hand, but that was about it. that went on for at least 10 minutes, right? she didn't keep count.

all she knew was that you would’ve felt nothing but pure shame if you knew what was being done to you at that moment. that was the point of this. not because she was dying to touch you, obviously, but because she wanted you to be aware of the power she truly has over you. instead of fucking her boyfriend, like you oh so clearly wanted, she was practically fucking you instead.

you were still in a deep slumber despite all that; you should have already woken up by then, but you didn’t. fortunate for her, although she couldn't help but ask herself, have you been getting enough sleep recently?

nevermind that, she was too into the act of leaving hickeys all over your chest to think about it. aeri didn’t want to think, she was high out of her mind. in fact, she stank up the whole room with the smell of marijuana, she was practically hot boxing you in the comfort of your own bed, whilst you slept. not a single thought of hers was rational, and chances are that's why she had gotten so hot and bothered over ‘ridiculing’ you.

perhaps that's also why she eventually slipped off your pyjama pants and gently hovered your clothed slit with her fingers, getting lost in the feeling of your lips on her fingertips. fuck, your panties were pretty damp, what had you been dreaming of before she got in here?

"you fucking bitch..." she mumbled to herself. she felt herself throb at the sight alone, and that pissed her off. the sensation of her digits dragging along your visibly desperate pussy didn't help, either. her blood ran embarrassingly hot and soon enough, she finished off by completely stripping you of your underwear, unable to contain her desire for any longer. your bare cunt now to the air, exposed and vulnerable only for aeri to see. it glistened under the moonlight that subtly broke into your otherwise dark room through the window, kind of the same way she did.

it was hypnotizing, so much so that aeri could've sworn she was practically drooling from the corner of her mouth. she was so close to just leaning and making out with it, but... she couldn’t. she had other, more important things to attend to; her own warm pool growing in between her legs.

she couldn’t help it, she had to swiftly glide her dominant hand across her lower stomach into her shorts. with a huge sigh of relief, her breath hitched as her middle finger quickly landed on her throbbing clit, rubbing circular motions immediately upon contact. her hooded eyes stayed fixated on you, entranced by the mere sight of you; asleep, your core exposed and vulnerable, just for her.

it didn’t take long for her to slowly slide in two digits inside of herself, biting her lip whilst she fought back a whine, still staring at you. she wanted to touch you so badly, she wanted to use every inch of you to get off, to humiliate you, but that would’ve been too risky. so, she was perfectly content with just pumping her fingers in and out of her entrance for now, quiet squelching sounds filling the silence of the room.

fuck, the weed in her system just made it so, so much better. she was dripping wet just thinking about how confused you would be if you were to wake up. nobody would exactly expect to be immediately greeted by the sight of aeri fucking herself on them right upon exiting dreamland, so that would be a totally valid reaction for you to have.

an adorable one, at that.

she didn’t have to worry about that though, she kept two of her other hand’s fingers inside her mouth whilst simultaneously fingering herself, way to muffle the occasional sounds that slipped out.

that’s, once again, what she believed, anyway.

what she had seemed to forget about you was that you weren’t that heavy of a sleeper, no matter how exhausted. truth was, the nipple sucking was enough to kinda rouse you up a bit, but she was lucky enough to not have fully woken you up, since you quickly drifted back to sleep afterwards.

that wasn’t the case for what came afterwards, however.

aeri, despite her initial plans of playing it safe, had moved on to feeling your wetness on hers; she bit back a gasp as soon as her clit came in contact with yours, soon enough rubbing against it as she held one of your legs in a careful way, leaving space for hers. her mouth agape whilst she looked down at herself grinding, rolling her hips back and forth onto you, the sensation out of this world. fuck, you were so wet for her, and you didn’t even know it.

how embarrassing was that for you.

anyway, she was so caught up in making herself feel good that she hadn’t even noticed you wake up!

“w-what the…” you mumbled, incoherent. then, your groggy eyes widening once you figured out what was actually happening, you raised your voice, “what the fuck?!—“

she shushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her palm, “sh-shut the fuck up… you’re gonna wake up the whole house.”

and she won’t? first thing you heard waking up was a loud ass whimper coming out of her!

onto more important questions… what the fuck was aeri doing in your room? why did she look so fucked up? was she high? what was she grinding onto? why did your body feel so good? why was it so cold in your room? what did she do to you before this? you didn’t have a single clue on anything happening, you felt… used, taken advantage of, objectified by your own ex childhood best friend.

and fuck did you love every second of it once you actually processed everything. was that weird? the thought of her eventually cumming her brains out to you and not to her stupid ass boyfriend was enough to turn you into even more of a mush, despite barely being conscious.

“f—fuck, aeri—“ you'd moan out,

“i know baby, it feels—mmh—good, d-doesn’t it?”

it did, it really did. so much so that you had to cover your mouth with each roll of the hips she did on you, as to not let any potential noises slip out.

aeri had decided to leave the confrontation for much, much later; when she isn't actively chasing the climax of her pleasure. plus, you looked way too good for her to even want to tell you off, it'd make her feel bad. at that moment, all she wanted was to see you lose control under her. your muffled moans like music to her ears, she got more and more lost in the feeling, dizzy and overwhelmed with euphoria. she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter, until... it snapped.

biting onto the phalanx of her index finger to surpress the moans fighting to escape, her orgasm hit her like a truck, hard.

you, on the other hand, didn't get to cum from just that, however, and that's exactly why she took it upon herself to make you finish on her tongue, eager to taste your juices and hers combined on your cunt.

before the night was over, you both talked it out. granted, it was difficult considering she was still high as shit and you had almost just gotten knocked out from having the best orgasm in fucking years, you still talked. you worked it out on the remix, if you will!

you weren't surprised when news spread on campus that uchinaga aeri had recently broken up with her boyfriend, a few days later.

[jungkoode]

5 SECONDS TO FREEDOM | prologue

˗ˏˋ debts unpaid ˎˊ˗

"In Tokyo's underground, there are only two currencies that matter—respect and reputation. When someone threatens to take both, you don't just race them. You destroy them."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 3.5k

content: street racing culture, debt collection, first meetings, midnight races, dangerous driving, Spanish endearments as provocation, the dynamics of Tokyo's underground scene, and your first defeat in nineteen months.

✧ author's note ✧

Soooo here we fucking go.

I've been obsessing over this story for months—I think we all know that lmaooo I think I posted the teaser like a couple months ago and I was devastated because it barely got 50 notes. But you know what, this was still in my head so I did write some drabbles—and I kind of shaped the prologue, which is what you’re gonna read below hahaha.

“But Kiki we just sent you 45 asks telling you to rest” AND I SAID SIKE??? No actually, I’m okay I promise! Usually writing different stories is what prevents me from burning out, because I get frustrated with the same storyline so it’s like… I write something else and my brain goes ‘yay thanks’. You know, ADHD—shiny new toy, mind dances to the music.

Anyways, so. I love this. I love this because as always I get to experiment with different personalities and psychological backgrounds and what I fucking love about these two is the masks they wear and how opposite they are. He’s cocky and arrogant, but in a different way FMU!jungkook is. She’s determined and ambitious, always pushing for more, but still very distinct from all my other Y/N’s because she’s handling different situations (you’ll see in later chapters).

And Hachiroku and Jaque aren't just racing personas—they're escapes. And what makes this delicious is that they're running from opposite lives. One from privilege, one from struggle. Both finding freedom in the same five seconds at the starting line.

And yes, the cars matter. They're not just vehicles; they're extensions of identity. The AE86 is legendary for a reason—not the most powerful, but perfectly balanced in the hands of someone who knows exactly what they're doing (sound familiar?). Meanwhile, the R34 Skyline is raw, unapologetic power held in check by someone who understands precisely when to unleash it.

AS ALWAYS—READ THE AUTHOR INTRO AND TW listed in the index post. This is a must before reading this story.

Fair warning: this isn't going to be a clean race. These characters are messy. They make decisions that will make you want to scream at them. They'll crash into each other's lives and leave debris everywhere, and the kind of attraction that feels like a guardrail giving way on a mountain pass.

But that's the point, isn't it? The most interesting stories happen in the dangerous curves.

So buckle up. We've got a long road ahead.

Ready? Light’s about to turn green.

Also. Notes for this one are pretty high, that’s intentional. Like I just wanted to post the prologue to have it out for a bit but I still need to work on the arcs and major plot points. So I don’t have the story fully shaped out for now, which is why I want this to rest and check for engagement and reactions. Seriously—don’t crash out, I know this one will take time and that’s absolutely my intention!

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Respect isn't given in Tokyo's underground—it's paid in cash or blood.

You roll the cherry lollipop against your teeth, counting seconds in your head like engine timing.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours since you left Kalo and his overpriced Supra in your rearview on the Hakone downhill, his taillights disappearing around the corner while you took the perfect line through the hairpin that everyone else brakes too hard for.

It's nighttime at Daikoku.

You cross one leg over the other, letting your heeled boot dangle casually off the edge of your AE86's hood. The mini skirt wasn't a random choice. Neither was showing up without your racing gear.

Because tonight isn't about driving—it's about collecting.

"Kalo's nowhere to be seen," Maya says, leaning against your car's hood, arms crossed. "Dipped hard."

You don't bother looking at her, just shift the lollipop to the other side of your mouth with your tongue. The neon from nearby signs reflects off the polished black and white paint of your 86.

"What?" Maya catches your expression. "I'm just saying. Word is he's been avoiding this spot since you embarrassed him."

"While still flashing cash at that club in Roppongi," you add, voice flat. "Buying drinks for anyone who'll listen to his bullshit version of what happened on the mountain."

You tug at one of the layered chains around your neck, watching the crowd that's gathered tonight.

The usual suspects are here—wannabes with more money than skill taking photos of each other's cars, veterans huddled around hoods talking suspension setups, scouts looking for the next race.

Everyone except the one person who should be here with your money.

"So what's the plan?" Maya nudges your shoulder. "Just gonna sit here looking pretty until he magically appears?"

You roll your eyes. "Since when do I just sit and wait for anything?"

"Fair point." She grins that wolfish grin of hers. "So?"

"So I track his ass down." You twist the lollipop stick between your fingers. "He owes me fifty thousand yen. But more than that, he owes me the respect of paying up and admitting I smoked him fair and square."

Maya snorts, exactly as you expected. "Called it. Knew you wouldn't let this slide."

"It's not about the money." You straighten up, adjusting your cropped leather jacket. "It's about the principle. You lose a race, you pay your debts. That's how this works. You don't just disappear like some amateur who can't handle defeat."

"Especially not when he talked all that shit beforehand," Maya adds, picking at her black nail polish. "What was it he said again? Something about how no girl could ever handle his—"

"'No girl could handle my power on the downhill,'" you quote dryly. "Right before I passed him on the outside of that corner everyone brakes for."

The memory brings a slight smile to your face.

The shock in his eyes when you appeared in his side mirror where no car should have been able to fit.

The desperate overcorrection that sent him nearly scraping the guardrail while you smoothly accelerated away.

"Exactly." Maya pushes off your hood. "So what's the first move? Hit his usual spots?"

You pull the lollipop from your mouth with a pop. "Already did. Club Seventh in Roppongi. The garage where his uncle works in Setagaya. That ramen shop he's always at in Shibuya."

"Stalker much?" Maya raises an eyebrow.

"Thorough," you correct her. "There's a difference."

A brief silence falls between you as you both watch a metallic blue GT-R roll into the lot, bass thumping hard enough to vibrate the pavement.

Not Kalo's crowd—these guys run with the Yokohama crew.

"Kenji might know," you say finally, referring to your mutual friend who somehow knows everyone's business in Tokyo's racing scene. "He mentioned Kalo's been hanging around some new spot in Meguro the past week."

Maya pulls out her phone. "Want me to text him now?"

"Already did." You tap your boot against the bumper of your car. "He's supposed to meet us here in—" you check the time on your wrist "—fifteen minutes ago."

"Typical." Maya rolls her eyes. "That guy couldn't be on time if his life depended on it."

You're about to respond when you spot a familiar face weaving through the crowd. Kenji, with his signature sunglasses despite it being well past midnight, making his way toward you.

You straighten up slightly, not wanting to appear too eager for information.

"Ladies," he greets with that irritating smirk of his, adjusting his sunglasses even though there's absolutely no need. "Looking dangerous tonight, Y/N. Someone's not here to race."

"Just tell me what you know about Kalo," you say, cutting through his bullshit.

Kenji leans against your car without asking—a liberty you allow only because he's useful.

"Direct as always. That's what I like about you."

"Kenji," you warn, patience already wearing thin.

"Fine, fine." He holds up his hands in surrender. "Your boy's been hanging at this new garage in Meguro. Place called Midnight Rush. Trying to get in with that crew that runs the Wangan on weekends."

You raise an eyebrow. "The twins' territory? That's desperate even for him."

"After what you did to his reputation?" Kenji shrugs. "Man's gotta find somewhere to start over."

Maya laughs. "Not how this works. You don't just reset when you lose."

"Exactly." You shift your weight, boot heels clicking against the pavement. "So he's there tonight?"

"Should be. They're prepping for some big run tomorrow. Word is there's serious money changing hands. He's trying to buy his way in."

The conversation halts as the distinctive growl of an approaching engine cuts through the night.

Not just any engine—something with a tune you've never heard before.

Sharp. Aggressive. Perfectly balanced.

Heads turn as a midnight purple Skyline R34 GT-R glides into the parking area, before coming to a stop under the harsh parking lot lights.

"Who the hell is that?" Maya straightens up, suddenly alert.

Kenji's expression shifts from boredom to interest in an instant—a rare change for him. "New player. Goes by Jaque."

You study the car, assessing rather than admiring.

Aftermarket body kit, but tasteful. Custom wheels. The stance is aggressive but functional.

Whoever built this wasn't just throwing money at it—they knew exactly what they were doing.

"Jaque?" you repeat, keeping your voice neutral despite your curiosity. "What kind of name is that?"

"Latino guy. Showed up about a month ago." Kenji lowers his voice, shifting into the gossip mode he lives for. "Been cleaning up. Undefeated so far."

Your eyebrow rises slightly at that.

Undefeated is a bold claim in this scene.

"Never heard of him," Maya says, voicing what you're thinking.

"That's because he's been running mostly on the Wangan line. Outrunning cops, taking stupid risks. The kind of shit that gets you noticed fast." Kenji's eyes remain fixed on the car. "Word is he beat Hayato's record on the C1 loop last week."

That gets your attention, though you're careful not to show it.

Hayato's record has stood for three years.

This guy has broken it in a month.

Who the fuck is this?

Your question is answered when the driver's door opens, and the crowd's murmur intensifies. A figure emerges, oozing the confidence of someone who knows they belong anywhere they choose to be.

Not tall, but with a presence that fills the space around him. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and a smirk that suggests he's already three steps ahead of everyone else.

"He drives like he's got nothing to lose," Kenji adds, a note of genuine respect in his voice that you rarely hear. "Like he doesn't care if he crashes or dies. It's... I don’t know man. Something else."

You watch as the driver—Jaque, apparently—leans back against his Skyline, surveying the crowd like he's taking inventory.

His gaze sweeps across the parking lot, until it lands on your group.

Or more specifically, on you.

He gives you a small nod, as if acknowledging territory.

"Looks like you've got an admirer," Maya mutters, nudging your ribs.

You shrug, unimpressed. "Looks like another ego with a nice car."

But you don't look away, and neither does he. It's a standoff of sorts, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.

You've played this game before with countless racers who thought they were hot shit.

You've never been the first to look away.

"Don't dismiss him so quickly," Kenji warns, surprising you. "I've seen him drive. I’m dead serious, it’s not normal."

"Nobody's unbeatable," you say, finally breaking the staring contest to look back at Kenji.

Just because you had to look back at Kenji.

"Maybe." Kenji shifts uncomfortably. "But this guy... he doesn't race like a normal person. It's like he's got some kind of death wish, but with the skill to back it up."

You scoff, though something about Kenji's tone—the genuine concern beneath his usual bullshit—gives you pause.

"Death wish or not, a car's a car, and physics is physics. There are rules to this game that nobody breaks."

Maya's watching you with that knowing look she gets when she can tell someone's gotten under your skin, even just a little.

"You want to find out, don't you?"

"I want to find Kalo and get my money," you correct her, though your eyes drift back to the Skyline against your will. "That's why we're here."

You scoff at Maya's knowing smirk, about to tell her to shut it when fragments of conversation float over from where the newcomer stands. One word cuts through the ambient noise of engines and chatter.

Kalo.

Your head snaps toward the source.

The Skyline guy—Jaque—leans against his car, talking to a small circle of racers. His hands move expressively as he speaks, gold bracelet catching the neon light.

"Kenji." You cut him off mid-sentence. "Who exactly is this guy talking to?"

Kenji follows your gaze. "Nobody important. Some Yokohama kids trying to get noticed." He adjusts those stupid sunglasses. "Why?"

"He just mentioned Kalo."

Maya straightens beside you. "You sure?"

No mistaking it. Not when you've been hunting that name for two weeks.

"Excuse me," you say, already moving.

Maya sighs behind you. "Here she goes again."

You don't look back. Your boots click purposefully across the pavement, moving slowly. Not rushing—you never rush. But determined.

Three guys surrounding Jaque glance up as you approach, their expressions shifting from interest to wariness. They know who you are.

He doesn't turn immediately. Keeps talking, voice carrying a rhythm unlike anything you've heard in Tokyo. An accent that doesn't belong here.

Only when you're close enough to count the stitches on his leather jacket does he acknowledge your presence.

And even then, it's just a partial turn. Forty-five degrees. Neck cradling slightly to look at you sideways.

Performative, if anything. Like he knew you were coming before you did.

You cross your arms, weight shifting to one hip. His mouth twitches upward at the corner, eyes traveling from your face down to your boots and back up again.

Not subtle about it at all.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this sight?" Velvet slides from his lips.

One eyebrow quirks upward, the slightest movement. His Japanese is fluent but different—consonants softened, vowels stretched in places they shouldn't be.

You narrow your eyes. "You mentioned Kalo. What do you know about him? What's your relationship?"

He studies you for two full seconds. Not answering. Just looking. Like he's trying to read something written in small print.

Then he chuckles, using two fingers to move a thin strand of dark hair that's fallen across his view. The movement is unnecessary. Theatrical. Done for effect.

"Why so serious, princesa?"

It’s Spanish, the last word. You know that much, know from the way the word rolls off his tongue, deliberate, inserted where it doesn't belong. Like he’s testing boundaries, hoping for a reaction.

"I asked you a question." You keep your voice unimpressed.

"And I asked you one too."

He turns to face you fully now, leaning back against his car with the casualness of someone who's never been afraid of anything.

"But since you came all this way... Kalo. The Supra guy, right? The one who races like he learned driving from a video game?"

The description is so accurate you almost smile.

Almost.

"I hear he owes someone money," he continues, watching your reaction carefully. "Someone who smoked him on the mountain course two weeks back. Embarrassed him so badly he's been hiding like a scared rabbit."

His three companions take subtle steps backward, no longer interested in being part of this conversation.

Smart.

Maya appears beside you, silent backup. Though her presence changes nothing in his demeanor.

"And how would you know about that?" you ask.

He shrugs one shoulder.

"People talk. I listen." His accent thickens when he adds, "Es lo que hago." (It’s what I do)

"Is that right?" You don't react to the Spanish. "Interesting that someone who just showed up knows so much about other people's business."

"I'm observant."

His eyes lock with yours.

"For example, I observe that you're not here to race tonight. That outfit? Those heels?" He clicks his tongue. "You're here to collect. To make a point."

Something cold slides down your spine. Not fear—you don't do fear. Something else.

Being read so easily isn't a sensation you're familiar with.

"What's your name again?" You ask it like you've already forgotten, though you haven't.

"Jaque." He says it with a slight emphasis on the second syllable. "And you're Y/N. The 86 driver who hasn't lost a mountain race in what, two years?"

"Nineteen months," Maya corrects automatically.

You shoot her a look.

Jaque's smile widens. "Nineteen months. Impressive."

"If you're done wasting my time," you say, turning slightly, "I have a debt to collect."

"From a guy who isn't here."

He pushes off his car, closing the distance between you by half a step. Not enough to be threatening. Just enough to make his presence unavoidable.

"And won't be. Not tonight," he adds.

"And you know that how?"

"Because I passed him on the expressway heading in the opposite direction. About twenty minutes ago." He taps his wrist where a watch would be. "Running scared, looked like."

You clench your jaw. If he's telling the truth, you've wasted your night. Another dead end in your hunt for the coward who owes you.

"So you just happened to recognize a stranger's car?" Maya asks, skepticism heavy in her voice.

"A white Supra with that terrible aftermarket body kit and the Rising Sun decal on the hood?" He makes a dismissive gesture. "Hard to miss. Hard to forget, unfortunately."

That description matches Kalo's car exactly; and the sick feeling in your stomach tells you he's not lying, as much as you'd like him to be.

"Well," you say, voice cooling by several degrees, "thanks for the information."

You turn to leave, disgusted at having your time wasted. First by Kalo's absence, now by this newcomer who clearly just wanted to get your attention. Another night, another waste.

"I'll pay you double what he owes you."

The words stop you mid-step.

You turn back slowly, measuring every movement.

"Excuse me?"

Jaque's expression hasn't changed, but something in his eyes has.

They’re gleaning.

"Fifty thousand yen, right? I'll make it a hundred." He says casually, like offering to buy a coffee. "If you beat me."

Maya makes a small sound beside you, something between a scoff and a laugh.

"And why would I race someone I don't know for money I don't need?"

You almost laugh. As if this is about the money. You were born into more yen than he’s ever seen—this is about respect. About principle. About owning your loss when someone beats you clean. No excuses. No saving face. Just bow your head and pay what you owe.

But he’s not done.

"Because you're curious." He says it like it's obvious. "Because you've been the best for nineteen months and you're bored. Because you want to know if I'm as good as they say."

"As good as who says?" You roll your eyes. "I've never heard of you before tonight."

"Then I must be doing something right." His smile shifts, becomes syrupy. "But if money doesn't motivate you, how about this—I win, I get to run with your crew. Race in your territory."

You can't help it—you laugh. Short and dismissive.

"That's not how this works. You don't just buy your way in." Your eyes flick to his car. "No matter how pretty your GT-R is."

"I'm not buying," he corrects, that accent slipping into his Japanese again. "I'm earning. Difference."

You narrow your eyes.

Maya leans close to your ear. "You're not seriously considering this?"

You should walk away. This guy is nobody. A newcomer with a nice car and too much confidence. The racing scene sees them every month. They come, they crash, they disappear.

But.

Something about the way he stands there, utterly certain of himself, gets under your skin.

Like he already knows your answer before you do.

And maybe it's the wasted night. Maybe it's two weeks of hunting Kalo with nothing to show for it. Maybe it's just the need to put someone in their place.

"One race," you hear yourself say.

Maya's head whips toward you in surprise.

"One race," you continue, "and when I win, you pay double what Kalo owes me, and you don't bother me again."

"And when I win," he counters, not missing a beat, "I race with your crew. Simple."

"If," you correct.

"When." He doesn't back down.

One calculated step closer brings his scent into focus. Leather, naturally, but beneath it something that doesn't compute. A scent that belongs to ryokan inns and meditation halls, not this arrogant foreigner.

Hinoki.

"You're awfully confident for someone who knows nothing about me or how I drive."

"And you're awfully defensive for someone who's supposedly unbeatable." His voice drops lower, meant for your ears only. "What are you afraid of, princesa?"

The Spanish word again. A barb. Challenging.

"Afraid?" You match his tone. "I'm trying to save you the embarrassment. And the money."

He laughs, so genuine that it catches you off guard. "So it's settled then. You and me. Tonight."

From the corner of your eye, you see Kenji approaching, drawn by the developing scene. Others are watching too.

Word travels fast in this world.

"Fine." You extend your hand, a formality in this world of verbal contracts. "My terms. My course."

He takes your hand. His grip is firm but not aggressive. Just right. His palm warm against yours.

"Your course," he agrees. "But I pick when."

You raise an eyebrow. "When, then?"

His smile widens, showing teeth. "Now."

Death has a rhythm.

Tonight, it sounds like Daddy Yankee.

The mountain is yours—every curve, every shadow, every inch of guardrail. You've memorized each crack in the asphalt like the lines on your palm.

Yet as you sit at the starting line, engine purring, the midnight purple Skyline beside you blasts "Gasolina" loud enough to vibrate your windows.

He's not even looking at the road.

Jaque's got hand on the wheel, the other tapping the window frame in rhythm.

Kenji stands between the cars, arms raised.

You grip your steering wheel tighter.

Focus. Calculate. This is your mountain. Your rules.

"Ready!" Kenji shouts.

You check your gauges, settle into position, drop your breath rate. Your 86 is an extension of your body.

"Set!"

Jaque turns to you—actually turns his head away from the road—and winks.

Winks.

What the fuck is his problem?

Your jaw clenches so hard you hear teeth grinding.

"GO!"

You snap into the first gear immediately, launching forward as your tires bite into asphalt. Perfect traction. Perfect release. Your 86 shoots ahead exactly as calculated, exactly as it always does.

The Skyline stays even.

First corner approaches—tight right-hander with a nasty camber that catches amateurs by surprise. You brake at the perfect moment, downshift, feel the weight transfer as you clip the apex.

Textbook. Flawless. The corner you've taken hundreds of times.

The Skyline mirrors you exactly, staying in your blind spot. The bass from his music is still thumping through the night air.

Second corner. Third. Fourth. Each attack perfect, each line immaculate. And still, he's there. Not gaining, not falling behind. Just... present. Like a shadow you can't shake.

"What the hell is this guy playing at?" You mutter, taking the next hairpin with a controlled aggression that should give you an advantage.

Should.

Doesn't.

The Skyline follows, its midnight paint swallowing the moonlight instead of reflecting it. Through the next three corners, it continues—you lead, he follows, neither gaining ground.

Until the straightaway.

The road opens up, and you floor it. The 86 responds instantly, pushing you back into your seat. This is where your lighter weight should shine.

But the Skyline surges forward, twin-turbo engine unleashing a growl that slices the night.

He passes you.

Not aggressively. Not dangerously.

Just... efficiently.

Like it's the most natural thing in the world.

For the first time in nineteen months, you're staring at someone else's taillights.

"No fucking way."

You push harder, finding speed you rarely tap into. The gap closes slightly on the approach to the next corner—a sharp left with a cliff drop on the outside.

No guardrail. No room for error.

Normal people brake early here.

Jaque, as it turns out, is not normal people.

You don't brake until the last possible microsecond, throwing the 86 into the corner. The tires scream, traction at its absolute limit. You can feel them searching for grip, dancing on the edge of adhesion.

You exit the corner a car length behind him.

"Come on!" You slam the gearshift, pushing for more.

The next section is technical—five corners in quick succession. Your territory.

It's where precision matters more than power.

You close the gap. Corner by corner, inch by inch. Three more and you're on his bumper. Close enough to see his fingers still tapping against the frame slightly to the rhythm.

The next hairpin is your chance. The inside line is risky—there's barely enough room—but it's your mountain.

You know exactly how much space you need.

You dive for the gap.

For one beautiful moment, you're alongside him. Equal. Your front bumper inches past his door.

Then he does something impossible.

Instead of defending the line—instead of doing what any rational driver would do—Jaque throws his car into a drift so aggressive it sends the back end swinging wide, nearly touching the guardrail.

The move creates an arc that cuts you off, forces you to brake or crash.

You brake.

The maneuver costs him speed, should give you another chance to pass on exit.

But before you can capitalize, he's already accelerating out of the drift, the Skyline's all-wheel drive finding traction where none should exist.

"What the actual—"

The move was insane. Suicidal. The kind of thing that ends with twisted metal and sirens.

And he pulled it off like he was parallel parking.

For the final stretch—three corners and the last straightaway—you throw caution aside. Push beyond limits you usually respect. The 86 responds, giving everything it has.

It's not enough.

The Skyline crosses the finish line two car lengths ahead. You slam your palm against the steering wheel.

The taste of defeat is metallic in your mouth, foreign and despised.

You bring the 86 to a hard stop, tires protesting at the sudden deceleration.

The music still pounds from his car. That same goddamn song.

You throw open your door, adrenaline and anger propelling you forward. The cool mountain air hits your flushed face as you storm toward his car.

Because that last move? It wasn't just reckless—it was deadly. The kind of stunt that gets people killed on these mountains.

Words build in your throat. Sharp words. Words about respect for the mountain and death wishes and arrogance.

His door swings open as you approach. The music blasts louder without the barrier of glass and metal. He slides out with that same casual grace you saw when he called you princesa, when he winked before accelerating.

And something stops the words in your throat.

He shakes his head slightly, dark hair falling across his eyes before he pushes it back with one smooth motion. His other hand remains on the Skyline's roof, some golden ring catching the moonlight.

When he turns to face you, there's no triumph in his expression. No arrogance.

Just... satisfaction.

Like he's found something he's been looking for.

His eyes meet yours across the short distance. That smile appears again—not the cocky smirk from earlier, but something more genuine. Lips curved just slightly at the corners.

"Thanks for the adrenaline rush, mami," he says, voice carrying over the pounding beat of Daddy Yankee.

You've never hated Spanish music more in your life.

goal: 500 notes

taglist: @cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx @rpwprpwprpwprw @jkrailme @graydolan12

next | index

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby

- gojo satoru x reader

a domestic life with your husband and baby

genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo

note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫

and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here

general masterlist

Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.

"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.

And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.

He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.

"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.

"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.

"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.

Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.

"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.

Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"

Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.

"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."

"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."

"...A lot of bad things."

"Heh, is that so?"

The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.

"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."

Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."

He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.

"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."

"Hmph."

"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"

The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.

Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.

This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?

Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”

He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.

“He is so… defenseless.”

“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”

Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.

“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.

Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.

“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”

[heechwe]

cotton claim | 𝐥𝐦𝐡

୨୧ pairing: lee minho x fem!reader || ୨୧ word count: 0.3k || ୨୧ genre: smut, comedy, fluff || ୨୧ tags: (newly) established relationship, marking, unprotected sex || ୨୧ synopsis: "Are you wearing my shirt?" || ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: For my darling @loserlvrss!

↪ WANT A DRABBLE DIARY ENTRY? REQUEST ONE.ᐟ

Minho thinks he may have lost it the second he walks into your apartment to see you wearing his button-up and nothing else.

Is it an illusion? Some image he conjured up due to a long day of dance practice?

It wasn’t your fault you could not find anything clean to wear and his shirt just so happened to be left behind on your desk chair. It still smelled like him too, an added bonus.

Did you expect it to cause your boyfriend such sensual distress? No, but you loved it.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, but the answer isn’t needed. The smirk on your face and widening of his eyes speaks for you where words don’t.

He’s ravenous by the time he pulls you in close and presses his tongue to the inside of your mouth. He bites on every exposed piece of skin he can touch with his lips, marking you so the presence of him stays long after his shirt ends up in the laundry bin.

When you try to shuck the fabric off of your shoulders so he can touch and taste more of you, he growls at you to keep it on. He loves that you’re wearing it, so why would he let you take it off? He can see enough anyway, the hint of your breasts and pussy just enough to get him hard and bend you over the back of the couch.

And when he fucks you so hard you’re biting down on the leather furniture and he’s riding up the bottom of his shirt to feel your ass between his hands as he bucks into you, he thinks he may have to leave more of his clothes in your apartment. Maybe he shouldn’t leave altogether. That way you’ll always have an excuse to steal his clothes.

@yvnempire @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[2neaky]

❤︎ .𖥔˚𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚎𓍼ོ.𓍢ִ໋

𝓜𝓓𝓝𝓘 ☆ 𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢 - reader is aroused from getting a tattoo (soft core) / Eren x Blackreader | mini drabble—working thru a writing slump so bear w. me on these shorter fics, enjoy <3

Over a hundred times per second, thousands of times per minute—the needle keeps hitting delicate skin.

Sometimes it breaks, leaving droplets of blood in its wake. Other times, it’s just strong enough to withstand the attack, leaving the skin raw and swollen.

‘It’s probably red,’ she thinks as her thighs clench around the chair.

There’s a moment of clarity; The needle has been lifted.

“You good?”

His voice almost makes her shiver.

Her closed eyes squeeze together.

“Mhm.”

She hears him moving around some tools behind her. “Use your words.”

“Yeah…”

Low, green eyes bore into the back of her head, watching closely.

From their first meeting, she could tell that Eren was an ‘all-about-the-details’ kind of man. Analytical, almost to a fault (noting the times he’s kept her in his chair longer than needed, just to perfect a tattoo). She doesn’t appreciate him any less for it.

Yet, she’s burning up under his stare. She almost wishes he would look away, as stupid as that sounds.

“Tell me when you need a break.”

She nods and turns her head to the side to rest against the headrest, eyes still closed.

“𓊆ྀི⋆˖ ⭑˚⊹𓊇ྀི.”

Soft mink lashes blink as she peels her eyes open to look at him—as best as she can from this angle, anyway.

“Tell me.”

He’s a soft-talker, quiet most times. But the added edge to his voice at times just gets her.

Usually, she laughs it off, making a joke about him. It makes it easier to ignore the way his tone fires her up.

She can’t laugh this time.

Her body inches up higher against the back of the chair, her wide hips do a meager half-drag against it.

Why did she wear jeans?

“Okay.”

The whine of her voice almost alarms him. His gaze lingers on her for seconds more as his mind replays the way her full lips twitched into a pout.

He saves an apology to continue his work.

The second the needle touches her skin, her spine tenses beneath his hand. It isn’t so much of a big movement that he has to take a pause. Just a tiny shift beneath the skin. Still, he notices it.

He also notices the restless sway of her right knee every time he lifts the needle. And how her hips keep anchoring down against the seat. Even how her breathing picks up.

During their first ever session, he wondered why she would never tap out for breaks. But, it’s too obvious that she enjoys more than she should. Even when she tries to hide it.

A breath of amusement leaves through his nose.

The needle trickles half an inch lower, closer towards one of her back dimples. He applies more force behind the gun.

Her eyes roll back shut. Her arms shield her face, keeping him from seeing her tug her bottom lip between her teeth.

A stifled whimper sneaks out.

“This is gonna be a long one,” he mutters.

He doesn’t lift the needle.

It’s getting harder and harder for her to keep still. She releases her bottom lip and it trembles.

Eren glances up at her and presses a little harder. The sting reaches deeper.

Her lips part as her face pulls together.

“I’m almost done, you could hold out.”

A tiny mewl slips from her. It’s soft and broken, so unlike her strong, brazen attitude.

Something in his chest drops; It free-falls down his stomach and to his dick. He lifts the gun with a sigh.

His breath fans against the raw skin of her back. She shivers as her hips twitch against the chair again.

“Good job.”

[softspiderling]

i’ll run my fingers through your hair | j.v

synopsis: jace + modern au + hair

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

word count: 1,1k

author’s note: just a little not very serious drabble/mini fic about you tying jace’s hair in a pony… bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it during work. unedited, written on a whim in like 20 minutes on my phone… @eldrith put the gun away. also football ✅⚽️ not ❌🏈

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ever since Jace had grown his hair out he had only seen positive changes his new hair cut had brought in his life. He had gotten tons of compliments (from friends, family AND strangers), questions about his “hair care routine” (water, shampoo and leave in conditioner… was that enough steps to call it a routine?) and of course, the way you were tugging on it whenever he was between your legs. That, he enjoyed particularly.

In all the upsides, he had never thought there would be downsides as well. Clearly, he completely forgot about the football season.

The last games had already been over before his hair started curling around his ears, the process of growing it out taking longer than expected. But now that training was back on, he had been struggling with his curls sticking to the back of his neck or falling into his face while he sprinted across the field and Jace actually started contemplating getting it cut before the first game.

“Don’t you dare,Jacaerys Targaryen.”

Jace flinched when you full-named him, quickly locking his phone, the hair dresser’s online appointment website fading to black. You only ever full-named him when you were serious about something. He hadnt realized you were so invested in his hair.

“I wasn’t gonna get it all chopped of!” he insisted. “Only like a trim maybe.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But babe,” he whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, one of his most used weapons to try to get his way with you. “This season’s so important, and I can’t be distracted by hair.”

It was his first year starting as captain of the Dragons, the last thing he needed was being distracted by his hair, He would not lose because of vanity.

“There are less drastic ways than cutting your beautiful hair off!”

You ran your fingers through his brown locks, your nails scratching against his scalp and Jace nearly melted into the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Like what?”

His words sounded breathless when he spoke and you were grinning when you climbed over the back of the couch, plopping yourself next to him.

“Come down here and I’ll show you,” you said, gesturing to the floor in front of you. Jace sighed, but did as you asked anyways, folding his legs under himself. He leaned back against the couch as you combed through his hair with your hand, making his eyes flutter closed. His muscles automatically relaxed as soon as you put your hands into his hair, it was like magic.

“- half-up half-down…Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re not gonna listen when I’m trying to help you-!”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening, sorry!” Jace reached back to curl his hand around your wrist, bringing it forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “You said something about half-up half-down…?”

You huffed.

“I need my hand back, Jace.”

Jace let go of your wrist and you sectioned his hair off with your fingers, tugging on it a little, as he shifted on the floor, before tying his hair off with an elastic.

“Look at it.”

Jace grabbed his phone, opening the camera on it to look at himself, the upper half of his hair now pulled back in a small pony, leaving his face free of his hair. For some reason, he had never thought about tying his hair off.

“Isn’t that… Girly?” he asked,

You gave him a look.

“Your father had the same hairstyle for your mother’s birthday last month. I think we can both agree on the fact that your father is not girly.”

Jace let out a huff, settling back against the couch. He did not like how lilty your voice got whenever you talked about his dad. He looked at the camera again, starting to get used to it.

“Doesn’t look half bad,” he admitted, looking at his hair from all angles. “What if I can’t tie it properly though and it’ll just unravel in the middle of the game? I think that might be even worse than just starting with my hair untied.”

“If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hm,” Jace hummed, tilting his phone to snap a picture of the two of you, your laugh echoing in his ears.

Said picture now was opened on his phone, as Jace tried to use it as a reference to tie his hair off. The first game of the season was about to start, and the whole team was in a frenzy. This was usually the opportunity Jace used to give his team mates a pep talk, rally them around, but he was too busy fighting with his hair and his vice-captain Cregan was still in the showers, taking his ritualistic ice bath (yes, he was superstitious; when they lost 3:4 against the White Walkers, Cregan insisted it was because he didn’t have time to take his ice bath, Jace knew it was because Addam had been out injured and Aegon had taken his place in the squad).

“Shit, how the fuck did she do it?” Jace muttered, bringing the hair tie around his hair, glancing between the reference picture and the mirror.

“Hey Cap, the cheerleaders are starting in ten minutes so we should be out in five, are you done fixing up your hair?” Ulf asked, stepping way into Jace’s personal space, despite Jace telling numerous times to fuck off.

“Shut up,” Jace huffed, his eye twitching in annoyance when his phone screen darkened. “Do me a favor and go get my girl from the stands.”

“Ooh what, the big ol’ Prince can’t start the game without seeing his ‘wittle girlfriend?” Ulf cackled, but his grin soon faded when Jace turned around to glare at him, his hand still around his hair.

“Do you want to start off the season on the bench, White?”

“Sorry Cap, I’ll go get your girl right away.”

Ulf scampered off with his tail between his legs and Jace sighed, letting go of his hair.

“Cregan, you’ve got about one minute to get your ass out of the ice bath before I replace you with Aemond!”

“I’ll be right out, Jace!”

“We better win this goddamned game,” Jace muttered to your smiling face on his phone.

They won 5:2.

But their victory was only a byline in the uni’s paper the following week, a picture of Jace’s half-up half-down hairstyle taking up half of the front page.

DRAGONS’ CAPTAIN GRACING THE FIELD WITH NEW HAIRSTYLE!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked it🫶🏼

[ryiju-muunie]

jjk men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume and it makes them feel a certain way? chousou and getou please!!!!

Love me, girl..

JJK Men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume! [Choso, Geto, Gojo, Toji]

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/JJK MEN Warnings: established relationship, drabbles kind of, suggestive content, Geto breaks a door, Clingy!Satoru Gojo, Toji is just pure fluff sorry ;P Word count: 1645 DESC: JJK MEN's reactions to your new perfume!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!!!

This isn't super explicit but I thought you'd appreciate it anon!!

Also follow my spam if you want unfiltered funkle @garfunkle8008

Choso Kamo Whiny!

Choso was instantly intoxicated by that … that scent. It was hard to ignore as you walked through the door, busy on a phone call for work. At first, something sweet made him perk his head up and watch you stride into the kitchen. But it was strong. It filled his head and his senses for hours, although they were mere minutes. It was chocolate, with a hint of cinnamon. That smell was almost nostalgic as it brought him back to a simpler time with his family. However, the nostalgia turned into something else when you sat beside him. 

Innocent thoughts of cuddling next to you and inhaling your new scent were turned into things that were making his cheeks begin to flush. Kamo wasn’t inherently horny, in fact, he had the lowest sex drive of any guy you had ever been with. So he was surprised by the sudden arousal building in his pants. All from a smell? No, it had to be something more than that. Maybe he was ovulating? No, men don’t do that… Maybe he was just due to masturbate?

Your hand brushed over his knee, your body scooting closer to him as you began to speak delicately about your day. Your boyfriend, try as he might, wasn’t listening in the slightest. All he could think about was the warmth radiating off of your body. And that damn smell. It was making the man salivate as he tried to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. Not your neck, no, not your arms… Was it…? 

Choso snuck a very shy look down to your mini skirt, barely hiding the plush fat of your thighs. A lump formed in his throat as he stared; That’s where the smell was coming from, huh? His hand trailed down your thigh until he reached the end of your skirt. Slowly, he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric, until he was feeling up to your underwear. 

“Choso?” Your soft voice broke through his thoughts, causing the man’s face to tilt to see yours, flushed with embarrassment, “What are you doing?”

“You have a new perfume, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, “I wanted to… smell it.” It was a lame ass excuse to get into your pants, but whatever you did was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. Within seconds, he wrestled off your pencil skirt and then tossed your panties, you wouldn’t be needing them anyway. Your legs, they were spread perfectly for him as he gazed into your pussy. That’s where it hit him. You must’ve doused your whole body in this shit, and god was it amazing. Choso didn’t even want to move, the angle he was at, pressing his face into your thigh, was perfect enough to inhale you. To practically taste you without savoring you on his tongue. Not yet, no he was going to have fun with this.

Suguru Geto Impatient!

Suguru noticed you had been taking an extra long time in the shower. It wasn’t anything unusual, you were probably just shaving your legs. But something about it today was setting him in an impatient mood. He stared at the door and felt his leg bounce, hearing you hum and smelling your body wash waft into the air. Or at least, he thought it was that. Something about it was different, like honey but stronger. It captivated the air and made him stop for a moment. Was this new? Was this the right body wash he bought you yesterday?

He wasn’t complaining. Actually, he was rather content smelling you from there, sitting on your bed. After a moment, he cleared his throat, “Honey, are you almost done?” The man didn’t expect a response, seeing as you were busy doing something in there. He wasn’t expecting your voice to sound so … different. 

It was angelic how you laughed through the door, “Almost, dear!” You called out in the way you always did, but why was it so different now? Why did it send butterflies through his heart and a burning sensation down his pants? There was something wrong with him. Suguru stood and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe if he just saw you he’d feel normal, instead of these urges. It was the usual arousing urge he always felt when he got in the mood. Wanting to take you and make you his, breed you until you choked on his cum. Hold you close and slowly thrust into your warmth, grab your neck, and pull you into a messy kiss. 

The man went to the door and pressed his forehead against the wood, “Honey…” He whispered, voice threatening to rasp against his throat, “Open the door.” Your response was something basic like ‘Huh? Speak up!’ but it was killing him. Being this close and not even being able to touch you, let alone see you. And smelling you. This scent. It was honey and pure, melted, sugar. He could practically taste it on his tongue, as his hand grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Suguru was surprised to hear it jam. You locked it. 

Geto pressed his lips together and turned the doorknob again, “Honey,” his voice was louder now as the doorknob snapped and opened with ease. He’d be replacing that later. He pushed the door open and stared at you, water-slicked hair clinging to your forehead as your bare frame was seated on the side of the tub, shaving your legs. He could see your back, rolls of fat perfectly seated on your sides into love handles, and your ass, perked up on the edge of the bathtub. 

He was going to make sure you couldn’t walk after this.

Satoru Gojo Handsy!

Satoru was already clingy, that was a fact. His best friend was so relieved he found you to take on the responsibility of babysitting him, so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t mind, in fact, you loved being able to spend time with him. And he loved it more than you’d ever know. He’d religiously check your location until you arrived home, so he could pester you until you were seated in his lap watching movies until the latest hours of the night. Did he have a problem? Maybe! But he didn’t care. 

When you came home from being out with your friends he was in the kitchen preparing dinner. At first, your new perfume didn’t hit him, that was until you brushed your form past him to grab the salt for your meal. It made your boyfriend pause and stiffen in his tracks. This was a new one, and this wasn’t a scent he had bought you. The obvious cheating thoughts ran through his head before that smell started to clog it. Mint and chocolate were filling his senses and making his head turn to you. When did you start wearing that lipstick? Was that new too? He never noticed your lips and how full they were… Or how your eyelashes clung to your cheeks when you looked down.

“Hey,” you felt your boyfriend's body press against you from behind as you tried to assemble your salad. Large and lanky arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you in, making your own mind blank as he continued with a soft voice in your ear, “When’d you get this new perfume?” Satoru’s nose pressed against the back of your ear, with his lips practically ghosting your skin. 

“I got it today at the mall, it’s nice right?” You replied, moving away from his grasp to grab the shredded cheese for your monstrosity of a salad. Gojo let a frown pull at his lips as you moved away, staring at your body as he attempted to make a new plan. Every part of his body was on fire unless he was clinging to your side. This was normal for him, but now it was intense. More intense than usual. It had to be that perfume. 

“So…” He purred, grabbing both of your shoulders and pressing himself back against you, “Why don’t we eat this stuff in bed?” On any other person, this level of seduction from this tall hunk of a man would have made them melt. But you were used to it. So instead of swooning as he hoped you would, you giggled. 

“Sure, just don’t get any crumbs on my side, okay?” Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Toji Fushiguro Straight to the point!

Toji was already on you as soon as you got home. It was less than a minute before he was taking hold of you and pinning you to the wall, pressing his face into your neck to inhale that holy smell. For him, it was less arousing than it was comforting. The rest of the guys on this list felt more lust than love, but I think Toji would be the opposite. 

He had a rough life, and when you came in and graced him with two beautiful children, he was forever grateful. It was hard for him to show how much he loved you, instead opting to show it in physical ways rather than being vocal. Smelling this on you, and holding you close as he did so was his way of hoping you’d never leave. Pressing his body to yours and cradling you close. He never wanted you to go. He never wanted you to turn away and tell him you didn’t love him because Fushiguro wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was alone. 

“I love you,” he muttered, tightening the hold he had on you. You let out a breathless laugh, mainly from the fact he was stronger than he realized with his grip, and wrapped your arms around him. You were different than him, but you both loved each other regardless. 

“I love you more,” you smiled to which Toji pulled back with a frown.  “No bitch. I’ll never stop loving you.”

[bvidzsoo]

So, you are Yunho...

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Warning: lots of weed consumption, cursing, unprotected sex Word count: 7.2k Rating: mature Genre: smut, stoner au, post uni setting, one-night stand au, humour(?) Summary: Your friend, rather your dealer, invites you to a party where you know few people, but the promise of a good time and most specifically weed convinces you to go. You have work the next day so you can't stay for too long, which prompts you to leave early. With your senses dulled and your mind hazy, you fail to notice just how badly you have to use the toilet, so that leads to you walking inside a kind stranger's home who just wants to help out...maybe in more ways than just one.

A/N: Hello, hi, yes, my lovelies, we don't speak of this! Whatever this man did to me at the concert needs to be studied because I haven't stopped thinking about him ever since--I think Mingi is actually quite in danger with being my nr1 as of now, only time can tell whether he'll get knocked down to nr2 lmao (although I'm keeping myself strong and not giving in to Mr. Jeong, as we can see with the existence of this damn drabble...) The smut isn't that big of a deal, once again, but I had to get this out of my system or else I would've gone crazy (guys, I haven't stopped thinking about Yunho since the 14th of February, I need to see my therapist again-). My brainrot was influenced by his outfit too, which you can't see too well in the pics since they are small but oh well, he was hot that's all you need to know (those pics are actually mine because I couldn't find anything on Pinterest and Twitter so, uhm...anyways). Lmk how this was, I promise to update Mingi's mini-series tomorrow! <3 I hope you enjoy, your feedback is much appreciated! ^^

Ending up in this place wasn’t part of your plan. If one would ask how you got here, you’d need a second to remember who in the first place had even dragged you here. There were only two people, though, who could, and it was most likely your friend—who wasn’t even your friend—but he’s adopted you into this weird friend group that wasn’t exactly a friend group, just a bunch of stupidly hot men who got together once in a while to smoke their minds out. If you recall correctly, it was the birthday of one of them, San, and you wondered how Yeosang even knew him. Maybe it was through Wooyoung, that’s how you’d met the pretty guy called Yeosang half a year ago, or maybe it was by pure chance on a night out when both Yeosang and San were, well, high…like right now. Laughter echoed around in the room, the music less loud compared to the living room where a makeshift dance floor was improvised by Wooyoung and someone called Seonghwa, who was hauntingly gorgeous, so you never spoke to him. His eyes seemed kind but his glare scared you shitless whenever you even as much so as looked in Hongjoong’s direction, at least you think that’s what the shorter one was called.

You had long stopped smoking, declining the joint being passed around a few times already. It’s gotten your mind all hazy and fuzzy, and you were sure that a little bit more would either knock you out or send you into an anxiety spiral that you didn’t need right now. Wooyoung, the only person who you knew relatively, seemed to be busy with making the birthday boy laugh any time he got the chance, so you knew no one could look out for you in case of an emergency. Maybe Yeosang, but his unfocused eyes told you that he couldn’t take care of himself in case of an emergency, let alone of another human being. It was alright, you didn’t mind since you knew your limits and just shook your head again when the guy next to you tried coaxing you into taking a whiff.

“Why are you even sitting in the circle if you won’t smoke?” He asked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. He’s been giving you judgmental looks for a while now, and while it was funny, you had a loose mouth while high and didn’t wish to get into a fight with one of Wooyoung’s friends…or, well, sort of friend.

“Does it say somewhere that this is a puff circle or something?” You quirked an eyebrow, your tone a bit sharp as the guy raised his eyebrows and passed the blunt to the intimidatingly tall guy sitting next to him, his lips pulled into a constant smile ever since he had sat down into your circle.

“It’s quite obvious, it doesn’t have to say so, sweets.” You chuckled, placing your chin in your palm.

“Already giving me petnames? I almost thought you hated my guts, not that you were trying to get into my pants with all that judgmental staring.” The man smirked, his pretty lips pulling into an amused grin as he leaned slightly closer to you. His manly perfume hit your nostrils and you needed a second to collect yourself, its scent too potent for your sensitive nose at the moment.

“The only person whose pants I wanna get into is Yeosang’s, sweets.” He winked as your eyebrow raised in question, eyes looking around the room blindly to find the mentioned man. He wasn’t here, making you realise that you were now in a room full of mostly strangers. That wasn’t an issue since you made conversation with anyone easily, but there was something underneath your skin tonight that made you a bit jumpy. It was strange, but weed did make you antsy from time to time if you didn’t feel completely safe in your environment, “I’m Jongho, by the way. I’ve already introduced myself, but I bet you’ve forgotten.”

You grinned at that, extending your hand for Jongho to shake, “Right, I can’t even recall when that happened.”

“Three months ago, sweets.” He snorted under his breath and took the blunt that was being passed back to him, different than the one he had been smoking, and you wondered whether mixing and matching right now was a safe option. But if Jongho thought it was alright, then it must be, he was a responsible adult after all, “How do you know San?”

“I’m supposed to know everyone sitting in this circle,” You pointed out, eyebrows furrowing when you still couldn’t recall the man’s name sitting next to Jongho, “But Wooyoung and I ran into him one time when we were running errands.”

“Did those errands include mind-blowing sex?” So, Jongho knew more than you thought at first, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as the extremely tall man next to Jongho laughed, leaning forward to look at your reddening face.

“Wooyoung’s not that good in bed, Joongie.” There was affection in his voice as he lightly pushed Jongho’s shoulder, and you wondered how close the two were.

“How’d you know?” Jongho wiggled his eyebrows, grabbing the guy’s chin to squeeze his cheeks together, “Thought you didn’t sleep with friends.”

The man giggled and sent a flying kiss at Jongho, which made him immediately release the very smoked-out guy’s chin, “I’ve spoken to enough people to know, besides, all it takes is one look at him…right, babe?”

A beat of silence passed as you looked at the two men, not realizing he was addressing you. He just blinked at you with his small eyes, lips jutting out as he waited for your answer. You blinked again, slightly more confused than you were before and Jongho snorted, throwing his arm around the guy’s shoulder and yanking him down to his height, “Y/N, this is Mingi. A bit of a flirt, a bit of a goofball, a sloppy kisser, but a great company.”

You spoke before you could think about it, grinning at the two guys, “And how’d you know that, Jongho?”

The guy cringed as Mingi tried to press a kiss to his cheek, instantly pushing him away and making you laugh at the murderous look on Jongho’s face, “Dare gone wrong, don’t make me recall it, please.”

“It wasn’t even bad!” Mingi exclaimed, sulking as the joint magically appeared in his hands since it was passed back by Yeosang, who finally came back inside the room holding three cups. He handed one to Hongjoong, whose eyes were rather red and glossy. Seonghwa sat beside him, whispering things before he helped the guy drink his water, a small thankful smile on his lips as he thanked Yeosang for the water.

“What wasn’t bad?” Yeosang asked just as your alarm went off, making you jump and Mingi yelp as it sharply cut through the somewhat serene atmosphere of the room. You got a few questioning glances as you tried to put the alarm out, but the words were blurred together on the screen of your phone so you needed a second to figure it all out.

“Don’t mind Mingi, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.” Jongho mused as he grabbed Yeosang’s wrist and roughly yanked him down, the not-so-petite man looking jostled by the sudden move. He gasped as he landed in Jongho’s lap, the liquid from his cup splashing onto his leather pants, a pout appearing on his face.

“You made me spill it.” He muttered to himself as Jongho hummed, his hand patting down the leather pants. You watched the two as you grabbed your cardigan from the floor and wore it, more than sure you’d be shivering outside in the late summer night’s refreshing breeze. You always felt too cold when you smoked weed, even if it was way too many degrees outside. Jongho’s palm settled on Yeosang’s thigh once he was done patting the water off, and you noticed the way his fingers flexed, Yeosang averted his eyes with a nervous gulp as he nudged Mingi with his elbow, “I mixed it for you, just don’t drink it fast.”

“Thanks!” Mingi grinned, necking the drink instantly, and you snorted as you made sure to pocket your phone to avoid what happened last time. It took Wooyoung three hours to find your lost phone, and then it took two more hours to listen to his nagging and chastising while you were trying to sleep, Wooyoung’s body heat making you sleepier and sleepier despite his sharp tone right by your ear.

“I’m going, guys, I have work in the morning.”

“Party popper!” Mingi shouted, making you laugh as others glanced at you again, “Be safe, though, do you want me to walk you?”

You grinned as you shook your head, making the room sway with you as you closed your eyes for a second. It didn’t help much, but at least it didn’t make you feel nauseous, “Thanks, but I know my way around…it’s not that late yet.”

“Call me if you need help, though.”

“She doesn’t even have your number, jackass,” Jongho muttered under his breath and Mingi huffed, turning his back to him and Yeosang, who didn’t look like he’d get off Jongho’s lap anytime soon.

“I’m not speaking to you, where’s Yunho?” You waved at the three men as you started walking away, catching Yeosang’s answer as he sighed and leaned back into Jongho’s body.

“Left a few minutes ago, said he was hungry and wanted to stream.” And with that, you left the house. You didn’t attempt finding Wooyoung since he was most probably entertaining the guests, too busy to notice either way that you were gone. You didn’t want to disturb his fun, so you made a mental note to text him once you had gotten home that you were safe and sound, ready to get into bed. Your apartment wasn’t too far from this neighbourhood, but you had to walk a good ten minutes until you reached the bus stop which had the right route to take you home. Your legs felt a bit heavy and the soles of your feet ached for some reason, but that might’ve had to do something with you standing on your feet all day long at work today. The call from Wooyoung was random this afternoon, and you accepted his invite without a second thought because you felt too wrung up, your boss getting on your last nerve. You were planning on quitting, but you had to find another job first and that wasn’t going as smoothly as you had wished. Being a receptionist wasn’t really your thing, and you’ve decided to finally make use of your business degree and find something that suits your interests better.

The evening air was cool, just like you had predicted, and you hugged your cardigan closer around yourself as you shivered, your feet not working as fast as you would’ve liked them to. The buses didn’t come and go as often as during the day, and you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait for too long at the station, goosebumps now covering your body as you walked down the sidewalk, glancing this and that way. The houses had almost all the lights turned off, most people were usually asleep after midnight. You should have been too, but you deserved to unwind after a long day and strenuous week…and it wasn’t even over yet. In your state, however, what you failed to notice before leaving the house was the fact that you had to pee, and badly at that. You licked your lips, wondering whether you could trick your mind into believing that you didn’t actually have to pee so badly and that you’d certainly be able to hold it in and get home first. But walking further down the street, you started to realise you were very wrong. You stopped and took a deep breath, debating what to do. You could just find a bush and do whatever, but were you ready to commit to that? It was a bit embarrassing, and if a police car could pass by—let alone a random person—you weren’t ready to expose yourself like that.

Deciding that walking would do for now, maybe you’d find an open store and ask them to let you in, you took off again and almost cried at the pressing feeling in your lower abdomen. It was terrible, you were screwed, and your smoked-out brain wasn’t actually helping with finding smart and safe solutions, it was only making you panic and almost hyperventilate. You jumped as a door closed loudly to your right, and as you turned your head, your eyes fell on a really tall guy who was walking towards you. A dark trash bag was in his left hand while a cigarette was in his right hand, raising it to his pouty lips to take a drag of it as he continued walking towards you, his eyes on you. You gulped, suddenly feeling frozen in your spot as he opened the small gate separating his front lawn from the sidewalk, his eyes still on you as he held the cigarette between his lips to open the trash bin closest to you, throwing the bag inside. You licked your lips again, eyes falling on the cigarette and intermittently on the guy’s puckered lips, and you felt a sudden pull. A strong one at that, your inside coiling as your eyes raked all over the man’s body, slightly off thrown by how handsome he was. And before you could think first and feel ashamed, your mouth was already moving, “Can you let me go inside to pee?”

The guy paused, his eyebrows shooting up underneath his blonde hair, which framed his forehead as a black beanie was pulled over his head, “Like—inside my house?”

You nodded quickly, crossing your legs because you genuinely were on the verge of giving it all up. The guy gave you a look of slight concern mixed with amusement, then nodded his head towards his house, “Sure, come on inside.”

And before he could open the gate for you and lead the way, you sprinted past him, hearing his loud snort as you practically barged inside his home. The lights were mostly on and you whipped your head around as the guy walked up behind you, nodding his chin to the only door in the hallway, “That’s the bathroom, go on.”

He wasn’t finished speaking and you were already messily stepping out of your sneakers, almost tripping and embarrassing yourself even further in front of the hot guy. You barged inside the bathroom and fiddled with the light switch before you found it, locking the door behind you as you then raced towards the toilet, your skirt above your hips before you had even sat down. A groan left your lips at the instant relief and you lowered your head, holding it in your hands. It was warm inside the bathroom and you could feel your trembling limbs finally ease up a little bit, your head swimming around now worse than before due to all your hectic movements just now. You wondered how to thank the guy for letting you inside as you finished up, flushing the toilet and then walking over to the sink. Your cheeks were red so you splayed some cold water on them, groaning at the feeling as you dried your hands in your black skirt. You sighed as you looked at yourself, trying to tell yourself that this wasn’t as embarrassing as peeing yourself would have been, and that you were just really lucky that a kind stranger allowed you to use their bathroom. Which reminded you of the fact that you had to walk out before he started thinking you were doing something weird inside his bathroom.

You opened the door and peeked your head around the doorframe, finding the guy sitting on the table, which was pressed up by the wall behind the front door. You jumped in fright as you didn’t expect him to be there, and cleared your throat when you realised that he had been watching the bathroom door the whole time. Smoke wafted from around his lips as you flipped the switch and then closed the bathroom door behind you, trying to keep your eyes on his face, but you were just too embarrassed. He looked…more amused than annoyed or judgemental, and he even chuckled when you stumbled into the wall since you failed to notice the huge Golden Retriever underneath your feet.

“Oh my God,” You muttered to yourself as you looked down at the cute dog, its tongue out as it stared up at you, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

The dog then plunged off the floor on his two back legs, jumping up on you and making you yelp as your back hit the wall again. A laugh left your lips as you ruffled the fur on its head, petting the dog while it tried licking at your face. The guy just continued to sit on the table, watching you with an amused look on his face, cigarette held between his thumb and index finger.

“Get down, boy, you’ll make her fall over.” He called out, whistling to get the dog’s attention. You didn’t mind the friendly animal, but its weight was getting a bit too much, so you were thankful when it finally got off you and headed towards its owner. The dog’s tail was waging as it barked lightly, rubbing its head against the guy’s leg to make him pat it. You grinned as you readjusted your cardigan, its sleeve having fallen off your shoulder.

“That’s a cute dog.” You heard yourself saying, making the man look at you again. He wore dark grey loose jeans, a long-sleeved black blouse and over that a black t-shirt that reached just below his crotch. There was also a chequered-patterned shirt tied underneath all those clothes loosely, and you wondered if the guy had just arrived home. His street-like outfit paired with a black beanie with his dirty blonde hair falling into his dark eyes made the guy really attractive, and you needed to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be staring at him so blatantly. But the weed made your brain process everything slower, so you couldn’t exactly help yourself this one time.

“Cute and harmless, seems like he likes you.” The guy commented, his lips pulled to the side as he pushed the dog’s head away playfully, making it bark again before it ran off further into the house. You didn’t turn to watch the dog go, not wanting to peek further inside this stranger’s home. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, and that made you realise you had definitely overstayed your welcome. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to seem like you had your shit together while the world whirled around you, “I don’t assume you want to also sleep over?”

You gulped, surprise coating your expression as you felt your cheeks heating up, “I was just about to go, I’m really sorry about all of this. The bus stop is quite the walk away and I would have—I mean, yeah, I really had to use the bathroom, so, thanks.”

The guy watched you with even more amusement on his face, and you averted your eyes when he took a whiff of his cigarette, rounding his already pouty lips and puffing out circles. You tried not to watch but it was incredibly hot, you gulped, your throat feeling rather dry all of a sudden.

“Pity,” The guy smirked, getting off the table as he walked over to the front door to open it for you, “I’m a great cook, could’ve made you something nice in the morning.”

Well, fuck that. You hummed with a forced smile on your lips, trying not to ogle his body as you passed by him, his sweet perfume permeating your senses as your jaw clenched. He wasn’t just hot, he smelled good too, and that was maybe your undoing. You reached the door and stopped next to him, looking up at him with a loud gulp as he continued to smirk at you, extending his cigarette towards you. How was it still lit? Had he gotten a new one while you were in the bathroom? But then again, it didn’t stink like the usual cigarette, and the realisation hit you at the same time as the guy spoke up, “Want a hit? It’s not too strong, I’ve rolled it like twenty minutes ago.”

You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the blunt, debating it. But there were multiple reasons why you shouldn’t accept it, and yet you were still debating it, “I mean…I have work in the morning.”

“That’s not a no.” He smirked, stepping slightly closer, and then pushed the blunt into your hand, giving you no choice but to take it, “I saw you at San’s party, you came with Wooyoung, right? Where’d you leave him?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you raised the blunt and took a tentative drag of it, glad that it didn’t taste as disgusting as the one Wooyoung had made at the party, “He’s with San, I didn’t want to bother them. Who are you?”

“Yunho,” The guy answered as you handed him the blunt back, surprising you by gently closing the door right in your face. You looked at the empty space now in front of you and felt goosebumps on your skin as you looked back up at Yunho, his grin not too menacing, “Wanna play some games?”

“That’s…that sounds scary.” You muttered, only now realising you really were just about to leave without your shoes. Just how high were you if you weren’t even sensing what your body needed anymore?

“I meant on the switch, Jesus.” The guy chuckled, turning around and walking further inside the house as he turned the light off in the hallway, leaving you alone and in darkness. Your heart raced both in slight scare and intrigue, “If you don’t want to, you can just go! I’ll lock the door later, Mingi’s supposed to come over either way.”

“You know Mingi?” You heard yourself asking, and then instantly realised, “Ah! You’re the Yunho who left the party because he wanted to stream?”

“And also eat ramen.” He appeared around the corner again with a smile, holding a cup of ramen up sheepishly, “I made too much, so, if you’re hungry…”

Damn, so he was one of Wooyoung’s friends…would it be too bad if you stayed for some ramen and maybe a game or two? You hoped not. Before you could convince yourself that staying to eat ramen and play games with a guy you didn’t know wasn’t smart, you found yourself nodding to Yunho’s silent offer, making his smile instantly widen. He turned and then led the way further inside his house, your eyes were a bit hazy and you struggled to see in the dark, but thankfully the next room was flooded with light as Yunho had led the way to the kitchen, his cute dog sitting by the counter and hungrily staring up at the other cup filled with ramen.

“Are you sure this is for me?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows as Yunho nudged his dog when it wouldn’t move aside, the two sharing a look as if they could communicate. Maybe Yunho could speak to animals, you almost giggled to yourself at the ridiculous thought.

“Yeah, sure, Mingi doesn’t like ramen when he’s high, it would only go to waste,” Yunho explained, then grabbed the cup of ramen and pressed it against your chest, giving you no choice but to take it. You nodded as you looked down at it, its scent was delicious and you couldn’t remember when was the last time you ate today, so you grabbed the chopsticks and went to town with it.

“How do you know Mingi?” You asked to fill the silence just as Yunho’s dog whined, looking up with puppy eyes at its owner and you chuckled, amused by the blush that suddenly spread to Yunho’s ears and neck.

“Stop that,” He muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the dog, “You’re embarrassing me, Shnucks.”

You paused, eyebrows furrowing as you couldn’t decide whether to laugh or not, “Your dog’s name is…Shnucks?”

When Yunho just nodded, very obviously letting some of the ramen slip to the floor for his dog, you burst out laughing, “What type of name is that?!”

“A silly one, just like this fella.” Yunho giggled, and the sound made your heart lurch as you stared at his handsome face, his cheeks lightly flushed and puffed out as he was munching his food, “Mingi named him, we were both high when we got the doggo. It’s ours, actually.”

“You live with Mingi?”

“Nah, we switch babysitting every other week.” Yunho shrugged, raising his eyes to look at you with mischief, “Don’t tell Mingi, but the fella likes me more than him.”

“Has he told you?” You teased Yunho with an amused smile as you gulped down more of your ramen, the warm food settling nicely in your stomach.

“Of course,” Yunho giggled again, licking his lips as he placed his cup down on the counter, rubbing his hands together, “So, how do you know Wooyoung?”

“Uh, well…that’s a long story?” You quirked an eyebrow, wondering how to make it simple for Yunho. It wasn’t actually that complicated, but you didn’t want to go into detail.

“Make it quick, then, I wanna go play.”

“And stream?”

“Nah, not anymore.” Licking his lips, Yunho leaned slightly down to be closer to your face, “I’ve got a playmate now.”

You gulped, trying not to think more into his words, but the way he eyed you up had your blood rushing quicker through your body, something burning low in your abdomen. You tried to ignore it as you smiled, placing your cup down next to Yunho’s abandoned one as you heard Shnucks’ paws pitter-patter against the floorboards as he walked away from the kitchen, “Right, I’m not good at games, though…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to take it.” You shrunk a bit in on yourself as Yunho chuckled, tapping the tip of your nose before he gently grabbed your elbow to veer you towards the living room, “My blows, I mean, I rarely lose so I hope you’re ready to face defeat.”

“You’re not being very encouraging right now.” You narrowed your eyes at Yunho as he chuckled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. You knew you were staring at him, but you couldn’t help yourself when the guy right in front of you looked like that. As you arrived inside the living room, which was a very simple space with a couch in the middle of the room, a TV with his switch station hooked up to it and a desk underneath the window, you realised you still hadn’t answered Yunho’s question about how you knew Wooyoung, “Back to Woo, uhm, well…we stumbled into each other at a club and hit it off well…and I guess we are friends now?”

“So, he’s your dealer, huh?” Your eyes widened minusculely as you whipped your head around to look up at Yunho, who had a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, that’s how we all met Wooyoung, don’t worry. He’s a funny guy but he can’t take a hint for the life of him.”

“Meaning?” You asked as you sat down on the grey sofa while Yunho went to turn on the TV as well as the switch, taking two gaming consoles before he walked back towards you. The sofa wasn’t huge but it had enough space for the two of you to sit comfortably without touching, however, that wasn’t the case as Yunho sat down so close next to you that your thighs were pressed up to each other. You decided to ignore it as his body heat permeated yours, your eyes meeting for a second as he handed you one of the consoles. Your fingers brushed together and your heart skipped a beat once again, but you quickly averted your eyes as Yunho smirked again, facing the TV.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” Your cheeks flushed at Yunho’s words, but before you could think more of it, he continued, “Are you ready to get obliterated in Mario Kart?”

“That’s really fucking rude, Yunho, I know how to play that game!” Yunho just laughed as he started the game, a knowing look still on his face. You, in fact, were not ready for the embarrassing number of times you’ve lost to Yunho in something as pathetic as Mario Kart. He was having the time of his life, teasing you and laughing at you at any given chance, only managing to work you up more and more until you couldn’t contain your rage and ended up threatening to exit the game while Yunho was scoring the most of points. He thought you were joking at first so he only laughed more, but after you did it once, he knew not to mess around with you anymore.

You had no idea for how long you and Yunho had been playing on his switch, but you were sure you were close to hitting the second hour. Your ass had gone numb and your legs were a bit antsy, but you were determined to win against Yunho in this round, finally having gotten the hang of the new game he had shown you. That was until you felt Yunho’s large hand sneaking up your thigh, just underneath the hem of your skirt to squeeze your thigh and tell you to be a good girl. It took one shared glance filled with heat to have you crawling over his lap, your lips meeting in a frenzied kiss. It was hot, messy with spit and full of teeth as Yunho’s fingers dug into your hips, pulling your body as tightly into his as he could. Your fingers curled into the blonde hair at his nape, the beanie still on his head, and you gasped when he started kneading your ass cheeks roughly. Ripping the beanie off his head, you yanked his head back and kissed down his neck, open-mouthed kisses that left marks on his milky skin.

Yunho was breathing hard as he let you have your way with him for the time being, and in your dazed state, you hadn’t even noticed the way he had started rubbing his bulge against your core, pulling you lower into himself. Sounds spilt from your mouth as Yunho grabbed the back of your head and pulled your face up, staring at you with hazy eyes before he smashed your lips back together, groaning into your mouth as you rolled your hips forward while pressing down a bit harder, gasping into his mouth as the friction finally increased. He was big but perhaps you weren’t too surprised by it, his height should’ve been a fair warning that he was packing downstairs as well. Your skin felt hot, and perhaps Yunho could feel it too because his long fingers hooked into the collar of your cardigan and slowly slipped it down your shoulders while grazing his fingertips against your arms, covering your skin in goosebumps. Your head lolled back as Yunho dived forward again, sucking bruises into your collarbones that you’d hate tomorrow but right now felt euphoric as his hot tongue swiped against the small bruises to soothe the bites.

“I’ve been eyeing you up all night,” Yunho whispered in your ear as you fumbled with the hems of his layered shirts, “Who knew you’d stumble right into my lap?”

You chuckled as your fingers finally found the button and zipper of his pants, making swift work with them as your eyes met Yunho’s, “Yeah? I don’t recall seeing you.”

“That’s because you were busy with Wooyoung…until he left you alone to entertain San.” Yunho smirked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “Much to my happiness…I thought you’d go home with him tonight.”

You smirked and yanked at Yunho’s pants, pulling them as down as you could due to him sitting on the sofa. His eyes fell down onto your hands, which were slowly slipping inside his boxers, a wet patch already staining the fabric. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning too widely, it brought satisfaction to know Yunho was in such a state so quickly and from just a little bit of sloppy kissing. It might’ve been the weed adding to it as well, but you disregarded that thought as you teased the skin underneath the elastic of his boxers, “Wooyoung and I aren’t a thing.”

Yunho scoffed a chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding it finally onto his dick. He gulped as your eyes bore into each other’s and you chuckled, gripping his shaft before very slowly dragging your hand up and down. He gulped, his pupils blown wide as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, the fingers that still gripped your hip now digging into your skin through your thin blouse.

“I would’ve fucked you even if you were a thing.” Yunho groaned out, face contorting in pleasure as you twisted your wrist, smearing his precum around the head of his dick. His cheeks were flushed, the redness spreading down to his chest as his eyes fluttered closed before you squeezed him a bit harder.

“Right,” You mocked, cocking an eyebrow as you fastened your pace, having Yunho whimper underneath you, “You speak as if you had the balls to approach me at the party, Yunho.”

Yunho gulped and closed his eyes, letting you do whatever as you watched the pleasure on his face, making your lower abdomen burn as you yearned to be touched as well. Yunho still held your wrist as he gasped for air, and you dove forward, kissing his neck and playfully biting his Adam’s Apple as Yunho’s dick twitched in your hand. That seemed to make him realise he was neglecting you, and before you knew it, you were being flipped over and pinned to the sofa. It was rather uncomfortable, Yunho was too big for the sofa and it felt like you disappeared completely underneath him, which only made the fire burn stronger in your stomach. You gulped as he smirked, finally pulling the many layers covering his torso over his head, baring his naked skin to you. Your eyes took in the dark brown spots, the little moles that littered his fair skin and you reached out to touch them, trace them as Yunho got rid of his jeans, clumsily shaking them off his legs. He tucked himself back into his boxer, then flipped your skirt up and grinned, tracing the outside of your thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched Yunho’s dark eyes trace your body hungrily, and he leaned down to press soft kisses against your navel, making your stomach coil. You tried to close your legs out of instinct, but Yunho stopped you by planting himself firmly between your thighs, gripping your left thigh with a bruising force. You shuddered as his finger now traced dangerously close to where you needed him most, and he smirked as he pressed down on the wet patch making you gasp.

“Look at you,” He chuckled then, pushing your panties to the side and not even warning you before two long fingers entered you, making you gasp loudly. You grabbed his arm as your back arched, eyes boring into his as he set a fast pace from the start, your breath quickening to the point you thought you’d start hyperventilating, “You’re even prettier underneath me.”

You moaned quietly, your toes curling with Yunho’s fingers as he plunged deeper, hitting sensitive nerves that made you see nothing but darkness for a second. He seemed to be enjoying your reactions as he added a third finger, stretching you out for something you knew you needed prepping for. Your hands trembled as your hips kicked off the sofa to match his thrust, and you called his name when he started rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Fuck, there, keep going.”

But instead of doing what he was told, Yunho stopped and chuckled, pulling his fingers out and making you sit up as you realized he was about to get off the sofa. He raised an eyebrow as his smirk returned, then, he leaned in for a kiss before pushing you back down onto the sofa, “Don’t worry, I usually finish what I start.”

“Then where are you going?” You snapped, your desire bleeding into your tone as Yunho clicked his tongue, grabbing you by the elbows and yanking you up.

“Don’t you want to ride me?” You cursed silently as he continued to smirk at you wickedly, settling you back on his lap. This time, however, you wasted no time and pulled his dick out of his boxers, allowing him to push your panties to the side as you aligned yourself, very slowly sinking down on his dick. The initial stretch was unpleasant and you didn’t try to rush as your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that the guys were right all this time. Wooyoung did have a small dick compared to Yunho, and your toes curled just at the thought of what he’d be capable of doing to you.

Yunho held your hips as he guided you down all the way and your fingers curled into his shoulder, nails digging into his hot skin as your eyes squeezed shut, “Fuck, gimme a second.”

“Too much compared to Woo?” Yunho’s voice was amused as he rubbed circles into your skin and your jaw clenched as your eyes snapped open.

“Don’t bring Woo into this, he’s not a terrible lay at all.” Your tone was harsh, maybe you weren’t too close with Wooyoung, but he was a decent person and you didn’t want Yunho making fun of him in any way. Besides, he was ruining your mood by bringing Wooyoung up right now, “He’s attentive, unlike many guys.”

“Can’t have that, then.” Yunho chuckled, an evil grin spreading onto his lips then, “Let me fuck you properly.”

And then he lifted you and slammed you back down on his dick, making your eyes round in surprise as you gasped, falling forward into his body. Yunho chuckled then fumbled with your blouse before he was bringing it over your head, burying his head into the valley of your breasts as you lifted your hips on your own, his dick dragging against your walls and making you keen. He was big and it reached places few managed before, you took a deep breath before sinking down again, the pace not too rushed since you wanted to enjoy the ride. Yunho’s teeth nicked at your skin, sucking a hickey right above your breast where the skin was thin and sensitive, making you moan as you let him set the pace by guiding you up and down his dick. It wasn’t too fast, but it was just enough to have your back arching towards him, fingers gripping into his hair and yanking his head back to look into your eyes. Yunho grinned before he smashed your lips together, finally thrusting up into you and meeting you halfway, a whimper leaving your mouth.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, gasps and keens leaving your lips against Yunho’s mouth as he quickened his pace, pistoning up into you as your thighs trembled trying to keep up with him. It hasn’t been long since you’ve had sex, but it has never been like this one. It was fast, hot, and loud as Yunho kept slamming back up into you, quiet grunts leaving his lips as you pressed your mouth against his jaw to try and keep quiet. You weren’t one to be loud in bed, but when Yunho hit a specific spot, your back arched and a loud moan left your lips as your arms circled his shoulders.

“Keep going, there.” Your jaw clenched as Yunho hummed, shifting his hands to grip your ass for better guidance, the slapping sounds echoing nastily in the room as your eyes squeezed shut.

“Feels amazing,” Yunho groaned against your neck, hissing as your walls clenched around his length. “I’m close.”

“Already?” Your eyebrows furrowed as Yunho hummed, continuing his relenting thrusts, and you found yourself unable to speak or even take a full breath as he drew you closer to your own orgasm as well. But you realized he didn’t use a condom, which wasn’t a smart idea, you had forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, and spoke up hurriedly, “You can’t come inside.”

“Fuck, please?” There was a whine to Yunho’s tone as his hand wrapped around your throat while the other continued to knead your ass, and you bit your bottom lip, eyes boring into his. You were tempted to give in to him, to just say yes and let him fill you up, but you couldn’t be so irresponsible, so you shook your head and kissed his lips instead to appease him. Yunho groaned but continued to hit your sweet spot over and over again, your body buzzing and trembling at the same time as you drew closer and closer, but then he was pulling out and jerking himself off, his throat convulsing as he came all over his stomach, his body going limp underneath yours. He looked hot, but you were clenching around nothing and you weren’t about to leave this place without coming too, so you grabbed his hand off your ass and guided it to your core, nudging his cheek with your nose.

“You’re forgetting something,” When he made no move, you smirked, biting his earlobe before whispering, “I always come with Woo, it really isn’t about the size but the skills, Yunho…”

That was all it took for Yunho to kick back into action, three fingers entering you at last as his thumb rubbed your clit fast in circular motions, making you choke on your next inhale. Your eyes squeezed shut as keens left your mouth, the closer you got, the higher they went in pitch until Yunho’s fingers managed to hit your sweet spot again and again, tipping you off the edge as your body locked and your back arched. You moaned into Yunho’s ear and he groaned, kissing your neck as his fingers guided you through your release, getting too much when his fingers didn’t stop plunging back into you. You stopped him and slumped against him, his sweet perfume on your lips, tongue, and in your nose, as you pressed a kiss against a mole on his chest. Yunho’s breathing had significantly calmed down, but you were still fighting to find your breath. Then, there was a noise coming from the front door and Shnucks came suddenly barrelling outside of a room, barking loudly.

“Mingi’s home.” Yunho said with a smirk as he suddenly stood from the sofa, your legs around his hips as he led you towards an unknown room, “Let’s get you covered up, unless you want him to see us like this…”

“He’s not my type.” You said with a lazy smile as you felt satisfied by how your night had turned out.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho chuckled then pressed a kiss against your nose as he closed the door behind you two, “He is mine…”

Masterlist

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[evertidings]

Happy Birthday to my wonderful, grumpy and emotionally constipated warlock, K! They've lost track of how old they are and quite honestly, they don't want to know, but, somehow, they're reminded of it every year because of a certain half-vampire... Not for lack of trying, of course.

You'll be able to see K again very soon in Chapter 12 and (perhaps) be able to officially lock onto their romance route later this year...? Ahem. Unfortunately, you won't be able to kiss them, but it's the thought that counts, right?

As a mini-celebration, I've written a small drabble on what each of the ROs got K this year (and what they want from the Hunter). Happy K day, everyone <3

—

K didn't ask for any gifts, never does, never will, but the thing about having friends is that they'll get them anyway.

[A] got them a leather-bound notebook with their initials engraved on the spine because they're "conceited like that." After a deadpan look, they pulled out the second part of their gift: a fountain pen that K has seen at high-end stationary shops. They almost feel bad, considering how much it probably cost, but they know [A] won't allow a return so they keep it.

Blane and [N] combined a gift, handing K a set of first-print, collector's edition novels that they'd had on their mind for a while. They're not even sure how the two of them caught wind that K wanted it—they must have let it slip. They've lost their subtlety since accepting their role in the friend group.

Rylan gifted something similar: an annotated copy of one of K's favourite books. The commentary was comedic at some points and thoughtful at others—Rylan's personality in a nutshell. They paired it with a set of teas from England. Apparently, it took over a month to arrive.

But while K is grateful for the gifts and truly, truly loves them all, they can't help but feel greedy wondering what yours will be. They shouldn't be so selfish. Over a century of life and they're still getting presents like they're a child. They shouldn't be receiving anything at all, let alone getting excited for it. But they are—and they want to know. Whether you got them a pastry from the bakery you pass by every day or a simple letter, they want it. Because it's from you. Because you thought about them and cared enough to do something, even though they were nothing but cold and distant for the better half of your relationship.

They want anything to do with you.

So they'll wait as long as it takes. Even if you text them at 11:59pm, the very last minute of their birth date, they'll wait for your message. You were patient with them so now, they'll be patient with you. As long as you don't think it's too late, they have a chance. Whatever you got them, they know they'll love it. Just, please, don't leave them hanging any longer.

[tiny-twinstars]

Crinkled Wrappers

A/N: Just a drabble to help me break into the Tumblr scene! It's rather gender neutral, using you/you're pronouns and it has been a while since I produced fanfiction, so I don't mind constructive criticism. I'm planning on making this a mini fic with sweettooth! Sevika :)

Divider credit goes to @adornedwithlight ♡

“For the last time, no!”

You laughed at Sevika as she grumbled on the other side of the couch that stood between them. The other woman glared, eyeing up the box of wrapped candy that was tucked to your chest.

“Why not? You aren’t gonna eat all of that sugary shit anyway.” Sevika rolled her eyes, making a grab for the box across the couch. With quick reflexes, and some luck, you stumbled backwards out of her reach with the box still in your grasp. Her bionic hand clutched the worn out couch, talon like fingers ripping new little holes you were sure to complain about later. Sevika’s flesh hand was bundled into a loose fist, drawing back to her body. The scariest woman of Zaun, your girlfriend, was pouting.

“You’ll just eat them all! Then your teeth will ache and your stomach will hurt.” You reasoned with the buff woman as you carefully side-stepped your way around the couch. Sevika’s movements mirrored yours, trying to see which way you’d take off. Silvery eyes glared at you, eyeing each movement and watching the box like a hawk. “Sev. Don't even think about it..”, you muttered, backing up as Sevika's grip on the couch tightened. Suddenly, she jumped over the couch, making you curse as you took off.

The floor of the apartment shook as Sevika landed, missing you by a few moments.

[mins-fins]

119

&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.

pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader

genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff

warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚

word count: 1.2k

notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33

you are going to murder na jaemin.

the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.

maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.

jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.

"are you alright?"

you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.

"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".

jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"

you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".

fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—

your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".

jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"

you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".

jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.

but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.

if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.

that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.

when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.

"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".

you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"

"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"

you choke on your spit.

"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"

soooo natural, y/n.

jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".

you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?

"is this your way of asking me out?"

you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.

jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"

you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.

"are you serious?"

jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.

you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"

"well to be fair—"

"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"

"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"

you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.

"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."

"can i kiss you?"

the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.

you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.

"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"

you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.

though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.

you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.

but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.

and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).

"was that romantic enough for you?"

even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.

he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.

and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.

jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.

"so what happened up there?"

"clearly they got it on".

upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.

jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.

for once, one of his ploys finally worked.

[7brownsuga7]

Ghostface killer

Kinktober 👻

Jungkook x reader

Ghost face killer pt.2 here

Word count: 1k +

Genre: short drabble, smut - minors DNI

Summary: Dominant Jungkook fucks you at a Halloween party in his ghostface costume.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, praise kink, spanking, orgasm denial

Note: been a while since I wrote some smut. Literally wrote this straight after I got ghosted and then blocked & was done being a dramatic mess lmfaooo. Anyways enjoy :) and stream 3D <3

Dominant Jungkook fucking you in his ghostface outfit while you’re bent over the sink taking his cock like the good girl you are.

You’re a stuttering mess, not just because you can feel him hitting your stomach with each hard stroke, but because you can see both of your reflections in the mirror, and how wicked is the sight, given that it is Halloween night, you both fit right up to the part, especially Jungkook who has a firm hold on your neck, his ghostface mask discarded, sitting on top of his head so you can see his lips between his teeth, loud grunts escaping them with each thrust.

“Baby baby please oh my god”. The grip you have on the sink makes no difference in supporting you when your legs become a quivering, weak mess. Jungkook uses his free arm to keep you up as your pussy clenches around his cock.

His hand leaves your neck, moving down to your pussy to rub you through your mini orgasm. He watches you with low eyes as you moan his name. He loves watching you from his position, how you’re always ready to take him and how submissive you are. The way his name rolls off your tongue is enough to send him straight to his orgasm, but he doesn’t want this to end so quickly.

You’re not surprised Jungkook has managed to make you cum so quickly, and you’re definitely not surprised when he shows you no mercy.

“Nuh uh I ain’t even done yet”. You watch him through the mirror. His eyes dark as they trail down your bare spine to your ass.

His pace slowens a bit before he harshly thrusts into you, knocking any air out of your lungs. He holds his position while his cock is balls deep inside of you. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to this new pressure.

His hand moves to your neck again softly caressing it as his deep voice coos in your ear,“Breathe y/n”

You finally release a breath and shudder at the same time, you’re sure you can already feel another orgasm coming.

“Well done baby, you’re doing such a good job taking me” his thumb enters your plump lips and you immediately suck on it as you moan. “Good girl”.

He watches you in the mirror, your eyebrows furrowed as you adjust to his full length, bottom lip puckered as you softly suck on his thumb, a truly great sight for him.

With no warning he begins again at a slow pace which shorty quickens enough for you to be stumbling on your feet over the sink again. He grabs you by your face pulling you up so that your back is up against his torso. He harshly kisses you while mumbles, “fuck baby, you’re so good for me”

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are watery from the unbearable pleasure you’re feeling and the slight pressure that was on your neck. Your makeup is smudged from the sweat and the way Jungkook held your face with his hand. Your breasts are spilling out of your bra and your stockings already have your juices running down onto them. Your whole costume may as well be discarded.

The background consists of loud music and murmured voices from the party. But the people are the least of your worries, you’re worrying about how you’re going to survive the night with Jungkook, or in this case ghostface because you’re sure he is trying to kill you when he lifts your leg up so he can get better access to your entrance.

You’re not sure what’s taken over Jungkook tonight, whether it’s the ghost face costume or the slight tension that’s been lingering between you two for the past week, but the way he’s ramming into you with your leg resting on the counter, pussy open for him, has you loving this.

Your juices coat his cock and his and your skin connect with each stroke. He feels your pussy clenching around him after each movement, both hands around your neck as he roughly enters you with a grunt.

“J-Jungkook p-please” you choke out a whimper, feeling him stretch out your walls. The sound of your wetness mixed with his pelvis connect with your ass is enough to send you over the edge.

“Hmm yeah. Take this dick baby” he grabs your face and turns it again so he can kiss you. “Jungkook I can’t I’m gonna cum” your words are muffled by his sloppy kiss.

“Nah I’m not done with you” he chuckles almost devilishly.

“P-please Jungkook I- I I’m gonna” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so fucked out.

You hear him chuckle behind you at your state.“You ain’t coming till I say so princess”

You moan both in pleasure and annoyance. You’re growing tired and your pussy is definitely going to be sore in the morning. You take your leg from off of the counter.

“Just hold on baby. Can you do that for me yeah?”

You don’t answer him which earns a smack to your ass. You yelp looking back at him in surprise.

“I asked you a question” his eyebrow is raised. You can barely form a sentence let alone answer his questions.

“Yes yes just please” you moan out for him as both of his hands grab your waist, guiding you to his desired pace. Your ass continues to hit his pelvis, causing there to be a slight ricochet that makes him bite his lip at the sight.

“Fuck baby, just like that” he grunts when you circle your hips on his length.

“Baby please I’m gonna cum” your legs are closed as much as you can close them, you’re trying your hardest to prolongue your orgasm but the way his strokes are so intense really makes it hard for you.

He lets his tip rest just in the entrance of your pussy before slamming into you.

“Shh, I’m almost there princess. Just hold on a bit more” his hand caresses your cheek.

You cry out in pleasure, it becoming to unbearable for you to handle. You clench your pussy to try and stop your orgasm from coming but that only makes you grip on his dick which earns another slap to your ass.

“Fuck, this pussy’s so wet just for me” he admires how your juices cover his cock.

When he doesn’t hear anything from you other than your moans and heavy breathing, he gives you another slap to your ass. “Tell me”.

“Ugh this pussy’s just for you Jungkook, fuck”

“Hmm that’s right, say my name again” he can feel his orgasm approaching and the sound of your needy voice is enough to quicken the process.

“Please Jungkook”. You whimper to his desire.

“Hmmmm” he grunts and that’s enough to send you over the edge. You tried your best.

“Oh my god. Fuck Kook please” your eyes are tightly shut and your legs are a quivering mess as you cum undone all over his length. Your wetness trickles down your legs, your body slumping over the sink as you go weak, limp.

A few more thrusts and Jungkook is shortly following you. “Fuuuuuck”. His body hunches over yours as he gently hugs you from behind, his nut filling you up. You feel the warmth inside of you which makes you hum in content.

He rests inside you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, both exhausted and a mess. He sends small kisses on the back of your neck, whispering, “Happy Halloween baby”.