#and chan ???????????? fuckin HELL

[faunandfloraas]

Stray Kids for W Korea.

#literally I.N + alexander mcqueen is so fucking good #and changbin ?????????? fuckin hell #and chan ???????????? fuckin HELL #stray kids #w korea #skz

[majimassqueaktoy]

Yuki and Majima had a more believable sibling relationship than half the actual siblings in the series. And I love them very much.

#like they were both so mean to each other in such a brother sister way #reminds me of my brother and i lmao #but then theres the fact she genuinely had missed him all those years and clearly worried for him and still thought of him #and he quite literally said he thought of her as a baby bird leavin his nest and shit as a like. 24 year old. #he wouldnt have gone to follow her when he thought she had a boyfriend unless he cared #went about it a bit weird but that def was genuine affection #also when she said he looks like he eats crickets. #anyway I love those two #and he better still be pals with her. #I also loved the fact that Yuki would really be like Shut the hell up you fuckin bitch #and hes like Oh yuki chan you wound me #but he absolutely needs that! he needs someone to banter with and put him in his place #good for him i think #anyway <3 god bless yuki chan and shes a babe #she'd be in her fifties now #i hope she got that girltoy girlfriend from k2

[sanakimohara]

Chan takes his Dom status seriously. You are essentially his to care for and unlike being the leader of Stray Kids who’s always in the public eye the Chan you know is able to be authentic with you behind closed doors.

So, yes he does leave noticeable marks on your skin just for the hell of it. “Want everyone to know you’re mine little one..” Yes, Chan does spit in your mouth during sex and he’ll watch you swallow it when he’s done. He’ll smile while watching your tongue slide back in your mouth. “Swallow it, princess. Mhm, perfect,” he’d praise you. Yes, he does hold and pin you down for another round even after you’re crying and shaking from coming so much. “You can take it. I know you can baby. Daddy promises m’kay?”

Of course Chan fucks your pretty face until you’re drooling with tears rolling down your tinted cheeks and his cum seeping down your throat. “Fuck, you take my cock so well…mph yea just like that..” he’s practically panting as you pleasure him. Of course he makes you beg for him to touch you. “Use your words little one. I can’t understand you when you’re whining like that.” Chan is well aware of what you want but loves to see you get shy and flustered. Of course he’s quick to get high off the sight of your fucked out state after he’s filled you to the brim with his cum. “So fuckin pretty when you cry love. Can’t take it…fuck,” he groans in your ear as he releases deep inside you. He’ll let you rest then, satisfied with your lack of coherence, and proud to see your cunt leaking his release. “You did so well, princess..”

You’re his little slut after all. Chan refuses to let you down, let alone keep his hands off of you when you’re so desperate to please him.

#bang chan smut #bang chris #bang chan #skz smut #skz #stray kids

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes. #* #this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

[milky-aeons]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘

౨ৎ . . . there was a saying in the port mafia; that amongst their ranks hid an angel in disguise, who, through simple words alone, could make any man bend to her mercy. nobody could really resist her blinding charm. her mafioso boyfriend, of course, was no exemption.

౨ৎ . . . alternatively, you convince CHUUYA NAKAHARA to try on a maid's uniform. You like it a lot more than you thought.

warnings: criminal themes, swearing, female reader, slight manipulation, pet-names, suggestive content, w.c 1.9k

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄, at first. For your stout, temperamental mafioso lover was always such a pleasure to tease. He took everything so seriously, in that adorable, flustered way of his. Not many would think that the Chuuya Nakahara was so easy to work up. He commanded soldiers, legions; men were terrified of the underground General who was also a mortal master of gravity. Maybe it was a side to him he kept reserved just for you. That soft, cheeky side. The blush that always heated his ears to the colour of his hair whenever you decided to play with him.

"No fuckin' way."

You stood there in the bedroom you both shared — lavish and expensive, sitting on one of the highest floors of the Port Mafia's headquarters. He had already discarded his coat and hat, was busy scratching the crown of his head when you had put the question to him. Interrupting his yawn mid-way. Chuuya's eyebrows had scrunched, he'd shot you a disbelieving retort — the hell did you just say? Then, he caught sight of what was draped across your bent forearm.

His eyes had flickered from yours, to the dress, to yours, once more. When he asked you to say that again, that he didn't think he had heard you right, he had shut you down with that very blunt denial.

"Please?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes. "It's just a bit of fun. You'd look so adorable, Chuuya!"

"Hah?! No!" Chuuya snapped. He was like an angry kitten, his canines sharp and baring. "The fuck did you even get that thing, anyway?"

"I think Mori ordered the wrong size for Elise-chan," You held up the dress so it draped down, almost the length of your body, but not quite. It just barely sat a size too small. With its narrow set waist and countless little frills, you were, at first, a little disappointed — that such a pretty thing was going to go to waste. And then, the gears in your mind began their mischievous little tune. You looked at Chuuya with wide, imploring eyes. "Are you scared to put on a dress, my love?"

Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not scared of anything, baby doll."

"Then put it on."

"Go fuck yourself."

"You're so mean!"

At your wounded tone, the General's shoulders tightened a little. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw the way your eyebrows drooped over your sad doe eyes, how your full lips formed that pretty little pout. Damn him, he was not considering this shit, there was absolutely no way Chuuya Nakahara was going to fit himself into that ugly piece of cloth just to make you happy. Murder, espionage — sure. For you, he wouldn't even give it a second thought. It would come as natural to him as breathing air.

But this?

He poked his cheek with his tongue. He began angrily tapping his foot against the carpeted floor. Stealing a second glance at the woman he loved, he caught the shadow of disappointment hanging over your head like an ominous raincloud, and felt the last shred of his resistance dissipate into sorry little afterthoughts.

Chuuya let out an extremely exaggerated sigh. Blinking, you glanced at him. He had his head bowed a little and was holding out one open, gloved palm.

"Hand it over."

A little startled all of a sudden, you gawped, making a strange sound. "Huh?"

An impatient growl echoed in the air. Chuuya looked up to glare at you from underneath his fair lashes, his eyes the colour of diamonds, of hard impenetrable sapphires. They narrowed dangerously when you were staring too long at the rose that blushed against his alabaster skin.

"So? Are ya gonna give me the shitty little thing, or not?"

Quickly understanding that he was actually taking you seriously, that he was considering your little charade, you had become too stupefied to do anything else. With hesitant fingers did you hold the maid's dress out to him, which he snatched from your grip in one forceful, swiping movement. You thought you caught the ends of the fuckin' shit I do for this woman, at the tail of it, but you couldn't be totally sure.

Seething, Chuuya balled the garment in his fist and marched off to your on-suite bathroom. He took a little longer than you expected him to — of course, he had never tried on a dress before. Maybe he was having trouble getting past all the ribbons and buttons, ties and zippers.

"Fuck me!" You heard him swear through the door after a few more moments of silence. Tender chuckles rose like bubbles in your chest — he was trying so hard to please you, exposing that soft side you kept under lock and key, only for yourself to indulge.

You lifted your hand to knock softly on the door. "Do you need some help in there?"

A growling blue-streak of profanities. Somehow, becoming more colourful and creative than the last. "How the hell do you women wake up in the morning and do this shit, every day? There's like, a million buttons on this ugly piece of crap!"

Crashing and banging mixed into the collection of sounds that was coming from the small bathroom. Amused, but also a little worried that he'd pull a little too hard on one of the ribbons and fall backwards against the toilet seat, you placed your hand on the golden doorhandle.

"Because us women are just that amazing," You mused, not resisting the urge to goad him. Your voice then dropped into a serious lilt. "Really, it's okay, Chuuya — you don't have to—"

That was when you felt it — the cool, insistent press of gravity, the humming in the air that told you your lover had activated his fearful technique. Your eyes shot down to where it was coming from, and to your immediate surprise, you saw the soft glow of crimson enveloped around the handle you were trying to unlatch — holding it securely in place.

"No. I said I'd fuckin' do it, didn't I?" Chuuya remarked through the wood. "So I will. Go wait over at the bed."

Prideful, stubborn man, you thought, rolling your eyes at his defensive tone, oh, how you loved him. "Okay." You sang sweetly, then stepped away from the bathroom door so as to sashay over to your expansive king size. You barely had a chance to set yourself down on the satin sheets when — bang!

The on-suite door had been thrown off of its hinges and cracked against the neighbouring wall with the force he put behind it. And standing there in the doorway in all his blood-boiling, skin-heating, frill-covered glory, was that very General who instilled terror to even the most seasoned of underground criminals. The long black dress that stopped just at his ankles and puffed at the shoulders threw his wild fiery hair into focus. The frilly white apron hanging loosely at his narrow waist contested with the bright red flush creeping up his neck.

You must have been staring at him for a little too long, because Chuuya snarled. "You happy now? I look damn ridiculous."

You didn't laugh. Nor did you tease him, as always, but you rose slowly up off of the bed and began to walk over to him. Stalk him, quietly, your expression a smooth, unreadable slate. The extreme lack of a reaction from you was making Chuuya's eyebrows knit, his lips softening from snarl to frown.

"O-Oi?"

When you reached him, you shot out to grab the little lapels of the dress that collared his long neck and tugged him down. So that he came just eye level with your own darker, smouldering ones. Oh, you were going to pounce on him. Packaged up in that pretty little parcel for you, you were going to devour him where he stood.

You smiled, leaning in, and whispered, "Told you you'd look absolutely adorable, my pretty, pretty boy."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!

WRITING REQUESTS

#oh i absolutely loved writing this one #it was so fun #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya #🎋 — writing requests #line divider by fireflygraphics <3 #adorable heart dividers by cafekitsune

[shhuuga]

Puppy chan in "rut" AKA it's been so long since he's last seen you that even the faint scent of your perfume and shampoo left over the hoodie he stole has him bricked up. The moment he sees you? Strong leader bangchan is out the fuckin door and he's just your lil Wolfie/puppy who needs to breed you full of pups -🦇

stuck in a rut.

warnings: cussin, p in v, unprotected $3X (don't do that <3), breeding k¡nk, taboo p0rn plot bc im corny like that, (smut under the cut!)

chan hates his ruts. usually, he handles then himself. stays in his room with his food and just lies around naked, preferably not touching himself. when he does, he can't stop. it'll take him hours, and even sometimes a day for him so stop going.

but with you, it's different. he doesn't know how to tell you when literally smelling you makes him horny, your clothes make him horny, hell.. your new acrylics make him horny. (okay, those always did the trick, but still.)

so when you call from the laundry room that you've gotten stuck in the dryer, new leggings that are hugging your ass so much.. fuck, he's got to have you.

"please, please, baby.. i just need to.. can i? can i fuck you baby? please?"

and who were you to deny your little puppy boy? who you knew was fucking struggling with his rut but refused to just ask you for help. now you had him right where you wanted him, and he didn't want to go anywhere.

the second he gets your panties off, (which took a while due to him fumbling over his words and accidentally rubbing himself on your thigh) he's going all in. as fast, hard, and deep as he can, he's going to go. you weren't sure if it was his heat or not having him inside you for the last few weeks that made his dick feel fatter, a delicious stretch that made your gummy walls pulse.

"thank you, baby. fuck, yes...shit! thank you so much, baby. thank you for- fuck! oh yes, thank you for taking my cum, baby." is all his mouth can muster as he pumps his third load in the last twenty minutes deep into your pussy. you feel the warmth escape him again with a hearty moan before being heaved out of the machine, the dark of which had comforted your eyes.

"i-i'm sorry, baby.. i am, but- could we go to the bedroom? im still so horny.."

and who were you to deny your puppy boy's wishes?

#🩷.txt #🩷 qu33ncard 🩷 #skz x reader #changbin x reader #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader #skz x y/n #skz fanfic #skz x black reader #bangchan smut #skz smut #bangchan fluff #bang chan hard hours #bang chan imagine #skz ff #skz fanfiction

[chxnnies-laptop]

bang chan drabble #1

18+ MDNI!! bang chan x afab!reader

content warning: swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, chan loves taking pictures after he’s done ;), degradation

you bring up the idea of riding for the first time, and chan is more than pleased... :)

word count: 950

not proof read, sorry ;-;

“you wanna…what?”

“i wanna ride you,” you smile innocently, throwing a leg over your boyfriend’s waist. the lump chan swallows is clearly visible, as is the hand moving to place itself over his growing erection. “you don’t have to say yes—”

“god, no, of course. uh, yeah, fuck, i don’t know why you saying that is so much hotter than i imagined,” he mumbles, hands moving to place themselves on your ass. the yelp you let out as he squeezes gives chan the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your ass as he hums.

“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted this, y/n, fuckin’ hell…” chan whispers. “take these off for me, baby.”

you lift your hips to allow him to slip your shorts off, hand cupping your pussy. “channie,” you whimper, hips rolling against his still hand. “please.”

you may have experimented plenty before during sex, but riding was just something you had never really been up to doing. that was, until chan was on tour and you were alone and desperate, wanting to chase a release through porn. of course, it wasn’t nearly as good as chan’s fingers inside you, but it would have to do.

an endless amount of scrolling for a good enough video had you stumbling on one, coincidentally, with the girl riding him like no tomorrow. and safe to say, you came almost as quick as chan could make you. you’d rewatched the video again and again, studying the angles and such, hips grinding into your hand as a mantra of chan’s name fell from your lips.

“let me, baby,” you smile, undoing the buttons on his pants and tugging them down. giving his dick a few slow strokes as you prep yourself. “god, just 2 weeks away and i’m tight again.” you watch the way chan’s breath catches in his throat when you say that, eyes fluttering closed.

“if you hadn’t brought up the idea of riding me, i’d be between your legs in a fucking second,” chan mutters, kind of to himself as he grips the sheets. “don’t..don’t make me cum already, f-fuck. i’d rather do it inside you, angel.”

you decide to yourself he won’t last too long if you continue, one leg swinging over so you’re hovering above chan. finger playing with the pre-cum collecting at his tip a little more just to get him more riled up, until he’s had enough and grips your wrist. “please.”

“patience, my love,” you giggle, your own broken moan interrupting you as you sink down. your body falls forward a little as chan throws his head back, shuddering.

“god, you’re so fuckin’ tight,��� he groans, holding onto your waist as you bottom out. “so beautiful on top of me, hm? all for me to admire, all mine. mine, mine, all mine. the last 2 weeks were such hell, fuck.”

one of your hands places itself on his chest, nails digging in slightly as you roll your hips, letting chan’s hands find friction in fondling and squeezing your tits. he sits up to be able to take your left nipple in his mouth, teeth tugging gently as his tongue works itself against the sensitive bud.

“ch-chan, baby… god, that feels so good.” you’re not entirely sure if he can actually hear you; you can’t even hear yourself over the muffled ringing in your ears as you bounce yourself on his dick at a much quicker pace.

“so good for me. my pretty little slut, taking me so well. so desperate to sit on my dick, huh? take it like the pretty whore you are, god…” he mutters, nipple still in his mouth as a hand wraps itself around your throat.

you’re not even responding anymore, just the lewd sounds of how wet you are mixing amongst your moans of his name. “fuck— chan, you’re gonna, sh-shit… gonna make me cum,” you manage. chan pulls away, admiring how hard your tits are bouncing from the speed you’re moving at, his own hips snapping up out of nowhere. an especially loud, choked moan being muffled by your lips pressing against your boyfriend’s. you’re far too close to try and maintain the dominance you tried so hard to muster up the courage for, letting chan take full control.

he wraps his arms around your torso and leans back against the headboard, sucking on the skin under your ear hard enough to leave a mark. planting his feet as he just absolutely pounds into you, knowing it isn’t too long before either of you are close. “let me, chan, let me, please—”

“let you what, princess? you wanna cum on my dick? cum on me, doll. god, you’re gonna make me blow.” his voice is higher in pitch, more desperate, soft pretty moans in your ear.

your head falls against his shoulder as the tight feeling in your stomach uncoils, thighs shaking hard, soaking chan’s lower half and the sheets underneath you both.

“fuck, baby, that’s it— oh, f-fuck, i can’t,” he whimpers, slamming up one last time before he cums, hips stilling.

you’re placed on your back as chan pulls out, almost instantly growing hard again from the way you’re just clenching around nothing. reaching over and looking through the viewfinder of the camera as you smile from the clicking sound, chan’s cum slowly dripping out of you onto the bedsheet.

“so beautiful, angel. my gorgeous baby,” chan whispers, kissing all over your face. your fucked out expression imprinting in his brain as he just lays down beside you. he’s far too gone to be able to find the strength and get up to clean you both up.

#bang chan smut #bang chan #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x female reader #chan x reader #bang chan hard hours #skz hard thoughts #bang chan hard thoughts #christopher bang #stray kids x reader #the bangchan brain rot is real

[changbinheart]

okay, my fic hot takes:

1.) Jisung is not a sub. Yeah he can be cute but that MF is the horniest man alive. He'd go absolutely FERAL in the bedroom. Manhandling, spit, choking, etc. Yeah he might be a little whiny at times but he'd groan and growl in your ears and be rough as hell with you.

2.) Seungmin is a bit mean yes. but he's also a whiny baby. He'd tease and bullying is his love language but he'd be absolute fucking putty in your hands. He'd melt into the praise and he really really just wants to be a good boy for you.

3.) Chan definitely gives off Daddy vibes but again, he also just wants to be good for you. PRAISE KINK TO THE MAX. He'd beg, whimper, he's a needy MF and his favorite thing ever is eating his partner out, getting things sloppy, and he'd do everything to get you off without needing anything. I feel like he's someone who could cum untouched just from hearing the sounds his partner makes when they climax

you completely read my mind dude!

people are quick to call hannie a sub and like listen... i get it... like he is babygirl as hell - but I firmly believe that boy is a feral beast

pussy drunk!jisung but like in the pleasure dom way, you know?

I feel like some people have no idea what to do with seungmin for a character so they just default to mean dom, but he's a puppy like he's gonna be so loving and doting and just do whatever you want him to do! i feel like he's very soft, vanilla in the best way! he just loves youuuuuu~

I have many opinions on how chris is portrayed in fics (the joys of your bias being smut fic fuel) and that man is so incredibly a pleasure top who wants to be spoiled and babied every now and then!

like I mean this in the most serious way possible, but be so fucking for real and tell me that this man, who is working all day, being a group leader, and never sleeps wouldn't want to be pampered and pleasured in the most relaxing way ever... BE SO FUCKIN-

pleasure dom!chris is the most logical viewpoint on chris imo

thanks for participating!

#annonies #hot takes #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #kim seungmin smut #im personally begging for more people to write maknae line fics #bc there simply is not nearly enough seungmin and jeongin on this hellsite

[maddogofshimano]

Hello! Seeing this blog was an insta-follow. JW, did u do a translation somewhere of…whatever this is? https://youtu.be/tfAqq15hv5s?si=xXzvWG1ImZ_qGGGb

I’d love to know what she’s saying, I’m scraping and scrounging for more Goromi content. There *is* a translation in the comments section, but it’s worded strangely…

hey thanks!! I am waaaaaaaaay less confident in translating spoken stuff, especially with Goromi's wildly fluctuating accent and general screeching but at one point I did go through and do some of the easier ones. however!! a kind soul has transcribed everything in the comments since the last time I checked so I'm doing this proper now. under a cut because it got long lol

italics is Goromi dropping into the masc Majima-style voice

0:00 どーもー ゴロ美でーす。真島? あ? 誰やそれ つべこべ言わんと はよドンペリ入れんかい! Hiii I'm Goromi. Majima? Huh? Don't talk about whoever that is, hurry up and bring out the Dom Perignon! 0:13 はぁあん 仕事もできる女 それがゴ・ロ・美 またモテてまうわぁ はぁ 参るなぁ Haaa~ A woman can do work too. That's Go - ro - mi. She'll be popular again. Haa~ Give me a call~ 0:28 めっちゃジロジロ見られたわぁ 嫌やわぁ セクハラちゃうー? I'm gettin' stared at so much. I don't like it. Is this sexual harassment? 0:35 よっしゃー! 暴れるでぇお前らー! All right! I'm gonna go ballistic on you all! 0:39 あ? パンツ見えてる? だからなんやねん Huh? Ya can see my panties? Watch where you're lookin'! 0:46 あーあ 早う桐生ちゃん来んかのぉー Ahhhh… won't Kiryu-chan hurry up~? 0:53 なんや 俺は安い女とちゃうで　 What is it? I ain't a cheap gal. 0:59 あ? パンツ見えてる? いやーんこのドスケベー 目ん玉くり抜いたろかぁ! Ya can see my panties? Ooooh ya perv~! I'll gouge out your fuckin' eyes!* 1:08 いやーん ええ飲みっぷりやないかぁ ちょっと見直したでぇ Oooh, you seem like ya can hold your drink~ I'm startin' to come around on ya~ 1:16 うち 強い奴が好きやねん うちを その気にさせたいんならぁ 殺す気で来いやぁ! Me, I like strong guys. If ya want me to like you… then ya better come at me like ya want me dead!* 1:27 やだ ゴロ美ったらドキドキしてる 気に入ったでぇ おぉ! ドス持ってこいやぁ! いっちょやり合おうやないかー! No way, ya got Goromi's heart all flutterin'. Oh! This is perfect for my dagger! Time to fight!" 1:39 うちも一杯もらってええか? 今日はなんだか飲みたい気分やねん Is it alright if I get one too? Today I'm in the mood to drink. 1:48 はい どーぞっ! ゴロ美特性 ゲロマズカクテルやでぇ なぁ 飲めや Here you go! Goromi's special super yucky cocktail! …Hey, drink it. 1:57 桐生ちゃん 驚くやろなぁ Kiryu-chan's a surprisin' guy~ 2:01 ゴロ美 ドキドキしちゃう You're gonna make Goromi's heart flutter.* 2:04 うちが ナンバーワンキャバ嬢 ゴロ美や 覚えときー I'm the number one cabaret girl Goromi, ya better remember that. 2:12 ヒーヒッヒヒヒー 惚れても知らんでぇ Hehehehee not my fault if you're fallin' for me~* 2:16 ますますべっぴんになってくでぇ I'm becoming more and more beautiful~ 2:20 奇麗なバラには トゲがあるんやでぇ A beautiful rose still has its thorns. 2:26 魔性の女 それがゴロ美やでぇ Goromi, a woman with a devilish nature~ 2:31 ゴロ美の新たな魅力 感じてやぁ Experience Goromi's fresh new glamor. 2:36 ふぉーん なかなか見どころあるやないかぁ ま、けどアフターはお預けや There's a lot of good things to see, aren't there? Well, that will have to wait for the after hours date. 2:45 やるやないかぁ へえぇ ゴロ美アフター権 進呈したるわ このボケがぁ! Well it can't be helped. I'm presentin' ya with the rights to an after hours date with Goromi. Ya dumb ass! 2:56 ご指名 おおきに Thank ya for requestin' me.* 2:59 男女がやる事いうたらー 喧嘩しかないやろがぁ! There's a thing that men and women do together… They fight each other! 3:06 か弱いレディーに 何するんじゃボケェ! This weak lady, what the hell are ya doin' to her, idiot! 3:10 あかーん そんなんじゃゴロ美は濡れへんでぇ! Siiiilly, that kind of thing won't get Goromi wet! (tl note: I……………………. I feel like there's something I'm misreading here. but. turns out I'm not!!) 3:14 当店はお触り禁止じゃぁ! We don't allow touching in this establishment!!! 3:17 野暮な男は嫌いやでぇ! I hate men with no manners!!

(tl note: the rest of these are various battle callouts) 3:24 ボトル入りまーす! Bottle comin' through! 3:26 これ うちの名刺! Here's… my business card! 3:30 ゴロ美に惚れたら 火傷するでぇ! If ya fall for Goromi… You're gonna get burned! 3:35 お客様は神様 なわけあるかボケェ! The customer is king… what a stupid idea! 3:41 イーヒッヒヒヒー 太客認定したるわぁ! Eeehehehehee, I just bagged a big spender! 3:46 シャンパン入りまーす! Champagne comin' through! 3:49 花は いつか散るんやでぇ Flowers will… always scatter… 3:54 終わりがあるから 美しいんやでぇ Because they must end… They are beautiful… 4:01 またのご来店 お待ちしてまーす! We look forward to seeing you agaaaaiiiin! 4:05 はぁ うちをもっと燃えさす奴はおらんのかいなぁ Haaa… is there no one left who can get me fired up? 4:11 ゴロ美の「み」は 皆殺しの「み」じゃぁ! The "mi" in "Goromi" is… from the "mi" in "minagoroshi"! (tl note: wholesale slaughter) 4:16 稼ぎ時を逃さん女 それがゴロ美じゃボケェ! Goromi, a woman who's never let a chance to make a profit escape her! 4:23 ヒヒッ ゴロ美 ほてってきたでぇ Hehe, Goromi's burnin' hot! 4:29 ヒヒッ 延長やぁ 当たり前やろ! Hehe, an extension. Obviously! (tl note: for using a continue in a fight) 4:36 ごっついのぉ Real strong, huh… (tl note: for losing)

whew! as usual if I fucked something else please tell me some of this stuff gets real in the weeds. all I can do is my best

thanks again for the follow and for suggesting this! I'm real glad I took another look, that minagoroshi line really made me laugh. unrelated to Goromi but I'll have a new event up in a week or so because the one going on right now is so incredibly funny to me. it's a Saejima event. look forward to it * Edit: a couple of line corrections thanks to @imustbenuts Thank you again!!!

#rggo #ryu ga gotoku online #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #like a dragon #Goromi #majima goro #trickinabucket #majima

[sluttyminghao]

hi alicia !! this is my first time sending you an ask hehe but omg congrats on 7k !! that's so cool i really enjoy your work and i want you to know that you deserve these (almost) 7k followers and so much more <33

for the sleepover,, can i pls request svt's reactions when you keep sucking them off after they cum? thanks in advance if you end up writing this but if not then that's okay too :)) take care of yourself !!

ooh also i want to interact w you more often so i was wondering if i can be 🎐 anon?? heh >:3

seungcheol: gets extremely twitchy and would pull you off his cock by your hair or shoulders, with an evil grin, and flips the table on you and makes you cum multiple times in overstimulation

jeonghan: just chuckles and lets you do whatever you want, because he knows as soon as you're done he's going to fuck you stupid and you won't be able to do anything about it

joshua: his whines grow higher in pitch and he becomes a whiny babbly mess, and when you make him cum again he trembles violently until he comes down from his high and fucks you stupid

junhui: would try to hide how good he feels but when you deepthroat him he just ends up fucking your throat until he cums down your throat a couple more times

soonyoung: "fuck fuck fuck" he would curse and curse until his throat is hoarse and then would tease the hell out of you for hours afterwards until you're begging

wonwoo: remains as stoic as he can, but the overstimulation would have him whining and biting his fist. when he can't take it anymore he would tie you up and make you cum until you can't take it anymore

jihoon: he wouldn't take this lightly. he's going to have you on your hands and knees so fast and spanking you until your ass is numb and red, before he fucks you senseless as punishment

seokmin: this man would be a whimpering mess and it would take him so long to recover, he'd just be thanking you profusely and wanting more and more

mingyu: if you thought he was loud before, you've got it wrong. this man when overstimulated is the loudest puppy ever, and hearing him moan your name like a mantra only keeps you committed to the bit

minghao: "so fuckin insatiable..." just babbles nonsense while you overstimulate him, and you don't think he's ever been this submissive before. he snaps out of it quickly though to give you the best head ever

seungkwan: whimpering like you wouldn't believe! he would be so whiny and has his hands in your hair and tugging harshly, would be so overstimulated he's on the verge of blacking out

vernon: starts out stoic, but as you suck and deepthroat him, he grows louder and by the time he's overstimulated he's trembling and just wanting to fuck himself into your mouth

chan: I feel like he starts to grow submissive, but would swing back to a hard dom stance and just ends up fucking your mouth and then fucking you stupid until neither of you can move

#sluttyhao smut #anons: 🎐 anon #seventeen smut #kpop smut #7k super sleepover

[merlucide]

Crossdresser x BLLK (2nd) pt2

Notes: SHIDOOOUUU (I’m so sorry if he’s ooc)

warnings: reader is female, cursing, cringe lol

pt1pt2pt3pt4 pt5

ISAGI’S VER KARASU’S VER

2ND SELECTION(SHIDOU’S VER)

Y/N entered the room and looked around for any familiar faces.

Suddenly, a large arm draped over Y/N shoulders. ‘Aye your not ranked to low- join our team!’ A tall, tanned boy with fuchsia eyes asked. 

Y/N was rather put out of by his lack of understanding of personal space. 

Another trailed behind him, he was beefy, big, dark skinned dude and stared into Y/Ns soul.

‘Is thata yes?’ The fuchsia eyed boy peered. 

Apparently she took to long to answer so he did for her ‘perfect, perfect- ‘ her mouth agape, looking at him with pure confusion.

‘ m’ Shidou, he’s Shiguma-Chan and yer’? Shidou asked, sliding himself off of her.

She told him her name and they looked for their first opponent. 

Shidou walked over and pretty much demanded they play against them. 

They agreed and everyone headed to the field.

The opponents were Hiragi, Tanaka, and Haiji.

No one knew anything about each other or their weapons. 

Shidou wouldn’t shut up and Shiguma wouldn’t talk, so there’s that. 

‘You better not get in my way’ Shidou warned as he held to ball, ready to kick off. 

‘That was cocky’ Y/N thought, she rolled her eyes and took position. 

Shidou kicked off the ball rather high, Tanaka charged towards it and passed to Haiji.

They were at halfway mark when Y/N intercepted it and ran down the field. She passed to Shiguma and he shot the ball towards the goal. 

Hiragi dashed to the goal and saved it with a head butt. 

The ball was headed towards Haiji, Shidou was trailing behind him and was about to steal it. Haiji quickly passed to Tanaka, who was by the goal. Tanaka shot into the goal. 

1-0, the game had just start so Y/N tried not to stress to much.

Shidou grabbed onto Shiguma’s jersey. ‘Why’d the hell ya didn’t pass to me?? Hah?? I was fuckin’ open!’ Shidou yanked on him. 

Y/N trotted over towards them trying to pull them apart. Shiguma wasn’t doing anything about it, he just justified his actions by saying Shidou wouldn’t have been able to catch it- which added fire to the pot. 

She was ‘successfully’ able to pull Shidou off of him by reminding him it was just one point and the games not over. 

….

The game finished at 2-3

Shidou scored a goal and Shiguma scored some crazy long distance goal. 

Y/Ns team lost, and Shiguma was picked. She was frustrated, this wasn’t how she planned this to go.

Shidou was pissed. Pissed that he lost, pissed that he didn’t get picked, just overall pissed. 

Shidou snapped at Y/N saying she was ‘fuckin useless’ and ‘coulda passed to me more’.

She was not gonna deal with his bitching.

The both dragged their feet to the losers gate. 

Shidou demanded they have another match this instant. 

The door opened and revealed someone Y/N would never expect to find here.

Kunigami was sitting down rolling his thumb back and forth. His eyes darted to so who was entering the losers section. 

He was also surprised to see Y/N. Shidou peered down at Kunigami, with his hands shoved in his shorts. ‘Play against us’ Shidou demanded, rather boredly.

Kunigami agreed.

It was Kunigami and Reo vs Shidou and Y/N.

‘No hard feelings yeah?’ Y/N asked holding out her hand

‘None’ Kunigami responded and bro-fived her. 

Reo kicked off the game and and Kunigami was headed towards it- Shidou cut him off and kicked it straight into the goal. 

no one was expecting that. 

Y/N scored a goal and Shidou scored 2 more. 

Kunigami and Reo barely reacted to Shidous plays, he was insane. 

It came time to pick to was to join them. Y/N was set on Kunigami, Shidou then spoke up saying he scored more goals so he decides. 

He chose Reo- ignoring Y/Ns objections 

‘I’d rather have purple topknot…than a puny, naïve hero like you. People who can’t destroy themselves.. can never create explosions. Let’s go Y/N-chan.’ Shidou stated as he shuffled back to the winners gate. 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt awful. Kunigami’s soccer career was over, and she part took in the ending of it. 

She whispered a sorry and followed behind shidou with Reo trailing her.

They headed to their new room and Shidou claimed the top bunk bed.

Reo offered to take the bottom bunk, Shidou and Reo headed to the bathroom to shower. Y/N showered when they finished.

Shidou apparently snooped around and got another team to play against them tomorrow, so that was settled.

Shidou got bored rather easily so he just asked Y/N a bunch of dumb questions, or tried to get her to spar against him- she declined. 

Reo just moped around, like a wet noodle.

She just went to bed and got good sleep. 

Next game they won with the score of 3-1, Y/N chose the player Kurona Ranze, he was pretty fast and scored a goal so he seemed pretty solid.

Kurona was low maintenance unlike Shidou and not in a depression like Reo, it was nice to have a normal guy around. It was really cute how he repeated his words.

Another match and they won again with the score of 3-0, Reo chose the player Sokura Testu, he’s chill.

Y/Ns team had all 5 players and were headed to go against the world 5. No one was able to score any goals. Shidou and Y/N got pretty close to scoring but it got blocked or it missed.

They had finished all stages.

Y/Ns team was the last team to finish.

They walked through the sliding doors and Y/N spotted her former teammates in Team Z (Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Gigamaru, Igaguri, Raichi)

She waved and smiled at them, happy to see that they made it.

ISAGI’S VER KARASU’S VER

NEXT PART ISNT OUT YET :>

made March 8th 2024

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock kunigami #blue lock scenarios #blue lock shidou #shidou x reader

[angelzai]

plastic jesus

i don't care if it rains or freezes long as i got my plastic jesus sittin on the dashboard of my car!

wc: 1.5k

cw: gn! reader, dark era, alcohol, smoking, canon-typical violence, dazai-typical suicide mentions/attempts, language, fluff, crack?

reid: kind of chuuya's pov? he is so done with you both. bless his soul. you may also find this on my ao3 linked in my pinned. enjoy :)

. . . .ᐟ

The only other one to have been plucked up out of the dirt by the demon prodigy himself was that brat, Nakahara.

Okay, he wasn't that bad. He was a brat, yes, but you and Dazai certainly played your part in influencing him, and it wasn't like he'd ever take your place. Reason number one on a long list: the kid couldn't hold his liquor.

Teikyuu, some PM-adjacent bar, was your agreed-upon (by you and Dazai; Nakahara tagged along with only half of his own consent) haunt for the night. The interior was dark and decently crowded, dingy but cozy enough to be homely through the air of bar-typical disgust; a speaker pumped out bass from somewhere or another - it was reliable, wandering eyes minimal. When Dazai insisted on a fourth round of shots of American tequila, Nakahara laid his fiery head on the bar, groaning.

"What's wrong, Chibi-chan? Chibi-chan can't hang!" Dazai took every opportunity he could to taunt him. He reached across your lap to shove Nakahara's head upward, outward. "C'mon, Chibikko. You're a fuckin' bummer." Three more shot glasses, packets of salt, and lime slices were dealt in front of you.

Chuuya swatted him away, catching you in the crossfire. "Fuck off, dude, 'have s' much shit to do tomorrow." But shit to do would have to be done violently hungover, judging from the ginger's current state. You wedged yourself between the two before they could embarrass themselves.

"Chu-chan, you're whining," you chuckled, and his face grew as red as his hair.

"Am not! 'M not fucking whining," he insisted, but it sounded even whinier than before.

"Then do this shot with me." You nudged the little clear glass toward him while Osamu took up his own. Chuuya grumbled out a fine. There was one problem: Chuuya couldn't shoot his alcohol no matter how hard he tried, especially when he was already drunk. He didn't understand what the hell it was you two saw (or rather, tasted) in the rancid liquid that made you so eager to down it so cleanly. Regularly, his shots dribbled from the corners of his mouth onto his shirt, or he'd only get halfway through it, and he'd receive a firm reprimanding from one or both of you about wasting the precious substance. He preferred wine, or if he was in rare form cherry schnapps, but no one goes to the bar to drink wine! The two of you would never let him hear the end of it, so he drank the god damn tequila.

The three of you toasted to "your mom," having dedicated your previous three toasts to "this dick" (Osamu), "being enemies of the state" (you), and "how fucking much the two of you make me want to choke on my own vomit and die" (Chuuya). By the time you had downed yours, face clean and unmoved, Chuuya was still looking at his shot contemplatively.

"If you don't want it-"

He took it.

"'Atta boy, kid."

Both you and Osamu watched expectantly, enthusiastically for the recoil. Chuuya's face twisted up, and you poked the lime in his direction. When he coughed and looked toward you with teary eyes and a red nose, you and Osamu giggled like children.

"'S not-" He coughed a bit more. "'S not funny, assholes!"

But it was very funny to you, and the two of you only laughed harder as he hailed a cup of water. Amidst your fit, you nearly tipped your barstool backward - Chuuya might've moved to catch you if you weren't being so goddamn insufferable (and his head wasn't whirling), but his stomach barely had time to drop as Osamu was clumsily wrapping you, chair back and all, in his lanky arms, so short of breath from cracking up that he was almost wheezing. After you were upright again you continued to laugh for such a long time that Chuuya, in his disoriented and half-dissociated state, thought perhaps you'd both finally lost your god damn fucking minds. He was going to have to find his way home, hammered and alone, all because you and Osamu were flaming inebriated morons.

And then you got quiet. And Chuuya grew genuinely concerned, because the two of you were usually anything but (he'd learned that well enough from living sandwiched between both of your rooms in that crummy ass apartment building for the longest three-week period of his life). But you were just being even stupider now - foreheads pressed against one another as you calmed back into the steady drone of the bar music, whispering some things back and forth that he wasn't meant to hear.

Chuuya gagged audibly, and it had nothing to do with the taste in his mouth.

An hour and three shots later, you slipped your poor bartender a generous stack of bills and stumbled your way into the street. It was beyond Chuuya how you two seemed to be able to maintain a straight line as you walked - he trailed a bit behind you, feeling like the unfortunate lovechild of a pair of teen parents. You stopped to light up a cigarette (also an American brand) and he ran into you. He wanted to push back at the way you snorted, but he realized you were only doing so because he was toppling and you were holding him up. He bit back his bitching. You were stupid, sure, but he did let you drag him along after all, and his blood felt too hot and his mouth felt too sticky for him to send shots right now.

"You want a hit, Chu-chan?" But he waved you away because nicotine probably would've made him yark immediately.

Not once in Chuuya's short visceral life had he ever seen someone fluster Osamu Dazai until you, and vice versa. It made him nauseous to admit it was sort of cute, but even further, he'd never admit it made him nauseous because, truly, the two of you found joy in nauseating people with how in love you were. Though he'd never heard those words out of either of your mouths, it was excruciatingly obvious that you were two sides of the same coin. You looped your arm around his, Dazai took the other, and he trotted along in his stupor with your help, sandwiched in between you once again (and equally as annoyed about it as he was before). The smoke never left your fingers but Osamu hit it often, lifted to his lips above Chuuya's head. You guys talked about something, but he could barely keep up. He was fucking obliterated. All he knew was that your words joined seamlessly with Dazai's, your banter flowed like dual-colored beads being strung alternatingly down a cord, and the warmth between the two of you made him feel kind of soft. He knew that later in the early morning he'd be hunched over the toilet - he could picture it vividly, you would be pushing his hair back, Osamu would be calling him a pussy but rubbing his shoulder every so often, and it would be horribly gross and embarrassing and he'd feel like hot garbage - and yet, he'd undoubtedly still get the sense that he was sitting in the backseat of a honeymoon car.

He looked up at you once in the blur of the a.m. and took note of how rosily you glowed, and when he turned toward Dazai, it was like a mirror. Chuuya was aware of that list, too, and none of you were idiots - no matter how much Mori pushed it, no matter what Twin Dark even meant, you alone were the sole complement to Osamu, the dead ringer, the only one fully cognizant of and attuned to his turbulent unpredictability. Perhaps that was why you were heading toward the water with him now.

"You fuck!" one of you called; he wasn't sure which. Chuuya was too busy crumbling to the ground in a puddle of himself, sweaty and pinching your cigarette between his fingers. When had that gotten there?

And you chased Osamu off the rocks into the river, current unhurried, undemanding against both of your bodies when you fell in. Chuuya didn't think too much of it when you bobbed under, because he knew you'd come back up connected at the lips - no, ever since you, Dazai hadn't really wanted to kill himself. Not yet. He knew it that day you all went to get high at the beach when you asked him to jump in with you and he hesitated for the smallest second. Not human? Chuuya wanted to laugh. Dazai had suffered, yes, but Dazai had loved. That conceded dissent in that beat of silence was the most human thing one could hope to achieve, and god damn it, Dazai had done it, with everything he was, in the face of the human he loved the most. He'd jumped in with you anyway, but there was no intent to die.

Without fail, you both walked him back home, drenched.

#bsd dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader #bsd osamu dazai #angelzai original.ᐟ

[moonlit-imagines]

Angel with a Shotgun

Eddie Brock x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @starlit-epiphany: “ON THAT NOTE, I do have a request for the event: could I pretty please request a blurb with Eddie Brock (romantic relationship) and the song “Angel With A Shotgun” by The Cab?”

Eddie was a lot of things, but a coward was not one of them. He lost you once a long time ago, breaking up was the worst pain he’d ever been through. He’d never let it happen again.

But life on the West Coast, something caused a strain. Something he couldn’t hide for very much longer as it slowly took over. Venom. Eddie thought that he’d never be able to keep you with this…alien melded with him.

But you came home to the house a wreck and Eddie looking like death. Who is that? What is he doing? “Jesus, Eddie, are you high?!”

“No! No, babe!” Eddie scrambled to his feet in his soaking wet clothing. “Babe, it’s not what it looks like!” He pleaded as he chased after you.

“Sounds like something a high person would say. I cannot fucking believe you.” Your back was turned to him and you headed towards the door, eager to get away from the scene you weren’t aware you were misunderstanding.

“Y/N! No, don’t fuckin’ leave me again!” Eddie’s voice started to sound different. Like it wasn’t human, and you were terrified to turn around while your palm lay on the doorknob. “You have no idea what happened. Don’t you want to stick around?” Was he growling?

“What…the hell?” You looked behind you, wide-eyed once you saw a transformed beast behind you. He looked as if he were made of black ooze, but he was standing right where Eddie was mere moments ago. “Eddie?”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @locke-writes // @bad4amficideas // @milkiane // @xoxobabydolls // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @scarthefangirl // @elenavampire21 //

#eddie brock imagine #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock #venom #venom x reader #venom imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day thirty-two!)

the last thing you wanted was to scare off your most recent friend, and by no means did you mean to, but it was painfully obvious what you’d done when katsuki got his coffee to-go.

that night had been horrible. you barely got any sleep because you were just so incredibly anxious that you were tossing and turning all night. you didn’t want to scare katsuki off, but it was just as scary confronting him about it. however, after a very long night of internal struggle/debate, you opted to confront him. after all, it was that, or lose him.

“medium black. t’go.” katsuki grunted as usual when he came in. you nod, your lips sealed tight. you had told yourself you were going to mention it immediately, but, well, it just didn’t feel right.

who were you kidding? you were just chickening out.

“okay.” you rung him up, made his coffee, and set it down on the countertop. he took his coffee and turned to leave and you could already feel the regret washing over you. you’d missed it. you missed your chan-

“katsuki!”

katsuki turned around. you swallowed, immensely relieved but twice as nervous.

“what?”

“can.. can we talk?” you ask breathlessly. katsuki narrowed his eyes.

“…yeah.” he agreed finally. “what?”

“i’m sorry.” you confess, before glancing around. you come out from behind the counter, your hands sweating as much as you’d imagine katsuki’s did. you swallowed a lump in your throat as you approached him. he looked down at you. he really was quite tall. “for all this.”

“you mean your weird-ass behavior.” katsuki ascertained. you nod, looking down at your feet. katsuki was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. you looked up when he did.

“did… did i do somethin’ or some shit?” he grumbled, looking away and scratching the back of his neck.

“what?” you blink, processing for a moment before frantically reassuring him. “oh, no, no! not at all! trust me, it’s not in any way your fault.” technically speaking, it was, because he was the one you were pining over, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

katsuki finally looked back at you. as usual, you could read him like a book— he was trying so hard to maintain his tough-guy attitude, but he clearly felt like he might’ve had a part in your strange behavior.

“i’m happy we’re friends.” you tell him, meeting his eyes. such pretty eyes— carmine red, with the outer ring of his iris a beautiful crimson. “and i’m sorry for acting how i did. i don’t want this to become the norm.”

“yeah, whatever.” katsuki’s lips twitched into the slightest smirk. “fuckin’ dumbass.”

you smile, and your shoulders go limp. you knew him, and you knew that his smirk was the telltale sign that he’d be back tomorrow, sitting in his rightful seat.

“thank you,” you exhale. “katsuki.”

“tch!” katsuki clicked his tongue. “shut up, loser.”

“you shut up.” you manage a breathy laugh amidst intense relief, lightly hitting his chest.

“you’re fuckin’ tiny, y’know that?” katsuki snickered. “tiny fuckin’ hands, didn’t even feel ‘em.” there was only one natural response to a short joke, though, and you executed it perfectly: a swift kick in the shins.

“oi, what the fuck?!” katsuki demanded, jerking his now incapacitated leg back and grabbing his ankle to support it. “the hell was that for, huh?!”

“serves you right.” you stick your tongue out, and katsuki flicked your forehead. “hey!” you laughed, and it was the first time you’d laughed since that period of awkwardness.

“i hate you.” you gasp amidst laughter.

“nah, you love me.”

“so, um…” you trail off to catch your breath. “are… are we good?”

“obviously.” katsuki rolled his eyes. “same as always.”

“but you got your coffee to go yesterday.”

“some chucklefuck scheduled a meeting at 5.” katsuki scowled. “dunno who yet. gonna kill ‘em when i find out.”

“so— so it wasn’t me?” you gape. wow, how self centered of you.

“like hell, moron.” katsuki flicked your forehead again. “now move it. i have to get to a damn follow-up meeting.”

“the door is behind you, i’m not in the way.” you retort, poking him in the chest in retaliation.

“whatever. go do your damn job.” katsuki snapped, whirling around to head to the door. you smiled to yourself as he walked out.

it was good to be back.

“i’m happy we’re friends.”

(feel free to comment + give ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity @jazzafayesworld @failingstudents-blog @stevenknightmarc @chuugarettes

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader

[inniessick]

Thinking abt bf!Innie taking you to see a horror movie with his friends, but while watching the movie y/n gets rlly scared so Jeongin puts her on his lap and cuddles her. Then he fingers y/n in the car to make her happy💗🙁

oh ho ho nonnie... now you've put that idea in my head, and damn is it a good one.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smut, cussing, petnames (babe, baby, pretty, lovely, princess, jeonginnie, jeong, innie) dom!jeongin, semi-public fingering, idk that's probably it. let me know if I missed any!

You were supposed to meet the guys at Hyunjin's place for your weekly movie night. there was only one problem, it was a horror movie. Despite yours and felix's protesting, it had been decided. You disliked horror movies, you were easily scared. You tried to convince Jeongin to not go this week, but he said he'd be right next to you so you didn't have to worry. That didnt help though, you didn't want to be scared.

"Baby, you almost ready to get goin'?" Jeongin knocked on the door to get your attention, peering his head into the room. You were picking up your phone from the bed, looking visibly pissed off. "Mhm, we can leave." your voice was flat as you opened the door fully, walking right past Jeongin. "Princess, dont be upset, it's just a movie. It's not supposed to be all that scary, anyways. We've been doing these movie nights for a year." You knew you shouldn't be this upset, but you hated scary things, you've always been that way. Jeongin hugged you from behind, murmuring into your neck, "Promise i'll keep you safe, pretty. it'll be over before you know it." You hummed, "If i scream its your fault! Lets leave before they get on your ass for being late again."

He held the door open for you, both of you making your way to the car. The ride wasn't long, you had started to relax a bit. You heard Jeongin take the keys out of the car, before he was making his way to open your door, holding his hand out, "C'mon, I know they're waiting for us." You both made your way up to the door, knocking and it being answered quickly. "Hyun!! They're both here, you can get the movie started!" Chan yelled to Hyunjin before greeting you both, "Made it on time this week?" You playfully hit his arm, "Shut up it was one time!" "You were literally an hour late!" "It was one time, Chan!" You both started laughing.

Everyone was figuring out their seats across the couch and floor. Chan spoke to the group, grabbing their attention, "Alright make room, the loverbirds have arrived." Han and Minho looking at each other before saying "Ew..." "Boo, tomato, nasty." Both of them teasing you two. Jeongin spoke, "Yea whatever, talk when you can actually get a girlfriend." Han rushing to defend himself, "Hey! I've had girlfriends before!" Seungmin turned to him, "When? In like 7th grade, for a week?" "You're supposed to be on my side dude!" "Just saying the tru-" Hyunjin clapped his hands, "Alright shut up, movies gonna start!" Everyone began to quiet down.

You and Jeongin sat on the far end of the couch, his arm holding your waist, giving you reassuring squeezes every time a jumpscare occurred. You weren't happy, but the movie seemed pretty tame. At least, that's what you thought before it started to get real gruesome. A loud noise coming from the tv causing you to gasp, "Fuckin hell.." Jeongin leaned his head down, "You alright babe?" "No Innie, it's getting too scary." "Cmere, sit in my lap, i'll hold you till its finished." You moved yourself onto his lap, still watching the screen, his hands holding your waist and thigh. Each time you got scared, you would push yourself into his chest, an involuntary reaction. What you hadn't noticed was each time you did that, your ass would move right against jeongin's crotch.

You felt his hands push your hips down, "Stop moving like that, we're in front of all the guys." You could finally feel how hard he was under you, your clothed cunt sitting right against it, you moved your hips forward slightly. He squeezed your hips again, pushing you down against him, leaning in towards your ear, "Behave, or I'll fuck you right in front of everyone." You nodded, focusing on the movie again, attempting to not move when you got scared. You had been doing a half-decent job, he knew you were trying your best. You gasped again, the main character getting dragged into a basement before having some not-so-pg13-things happen to them, you shook your head, grabbing jeongin's hands. "Shh, shh I got you." "No jeonginnie, it's too scary, dont wanna watch it anymore." "Movie is almost over, hang in there and i'll make sure you feel better in the car." "But-" You looked up at the screen, another jumpscare, making you push yourself against him, a feeble attempt to get away from the tv. "Just close your eyes baby, innie's got you. It's almost over, nothings gonna get you." You listened to him, closing your eyes and turning your head away.

It wasn't all that long before you started to hear everyone begin to speak. changbin spoke, "Alright, it wasn't that bad, look even felix was able to watch it." "Yea, could've been a lot worse." Felix looked over at you two, "Did it scare her?" He had asked Jeongin, "Mhm, she made it through most of it, though." Han patted your shoulder, "That's progress! Maybe next time you'll get through the whole thing." Your eyes widened, fuck that. "I'll stay home the next time if you guys wanna watch horror, Innie can go by himself." Jeongin squeezed your hand, "I think we'll both pass, don't want her getting freaked out again." Hyunjin chimed in, "That's probably a good idea, sorry we scared her." Jeongin tapped your leg, "C'mon, time to go home." You stood up from his lap, grabbing your belongings off the couch. "We're gonna head home, text me later so we know what were gonna do next week." "Yea! we'll make sure its some cringey romcom or something." You waved at the guys, wishing them all a goodnight.

You got into the car, holding Jeongin's hand. "Don't make me do that again Jeong, freaked me out too much." He moved his hand onto your thigh, "I know baby, 'm sorry." He moved his other hand to grab your chin, giving you a kiss. "Didnt think it'd be that bad, lovey." His hand ran up your thigh a bit more, your breath hitching because of how close he was to your core. "Want me to make it up to you? Make you feel good?" You looked at him, "But- We're in the car, what if someone sees?" "The boys are gonna stay inside, and its dark out, nobody's gonna know."

You nodded your head. "Want you to make it better innie.. was so scared." His hand moving to unbutton and unzip your jeans. "Mhm, I know. Let innie make it better." He leaned over more, kissing you while he slipped his hand into your panties. He moved his fingers right over your clit, rubbing it slowly, taking all your moans into his mouth. you moved away, trying to catch your breath, "Jeongin please, need your fingers, dont tease me." He moved his lips along your neck, "Alright, princess. Whatever you want." He gathered your slick onto his fingers, "So wet for me.." You moaned, bucking your hips against his hand. He pushed two fingers into your needy hole, causing you to gasp at the sudden stretch. "Gonna make sure you feel better," He curled his fingers, pressing against your sweet spot, slowly pumping the two digits into your pussy. "Fuck jeongin, there- need more, gimme more." "More what baby? What do you want?" "Innie~ Want you to go faster, need your fingers to make me cum." You threw your head back as he immediately fulfilled your request, fucking his fingers into you quicker, thumb making circles on your clit. "Can feel you clenching around me," "Fuck- Jeonginnie... mmm, please.." He curled his fingers again, grazing that gummy spot. Your back arched as he gripped your jaw, kissing you deeply before pushing his tongue past your lips. "Mmph.. mm-" You moaned into the kiss, moving your tongue against his. God you were so close, you were right there. He separated from your mouth, mumbling sweet nothings to you.He applied pressure to your clit, moving his thumb against it faster. "Innie.. baby wan' cum." "Go ahead, cum all over my fingers." "Shit.. ahh- cumming- innie~", gripping onto his wrist as you screwed your eyes shut, walls spasming around him.

"There you go, did so well for me." He removed his hand hand from between your legs, you whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He licked his fingers clean, "Always taste so good.." "Thank you, feel a lot better." He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, before turning the keys and starting the engine. He took your hand in his, "Lets get you home so I can properly fuck you." You squeezed his hand a little, giggling at his comment. He flashed you a cheesy grin before driving away from Hyunjin's house, eager to do just as he had said.

a/n: thank you so much for being my first ask, nonnie! i loved writing this and may have gotten just a bit too carried away 😅😅.. I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS AS MUCH AS I ENJOYED PUTTING IT TOGETHER!! YOURE ALWAYS WELCOME BACK INTO MY ASK BOX... remember, let's play ♡.

likes, reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡ my requests are open! let me know if you'd liked to added to a taglist for future works!

#*yoori writes #*yoori replies #ー♡Nonnie #i.n stray kids #i.n skz #i.n scenarios #i.n smut #i.n x reader #i.n x you #yang joengin #jeongin #jeongin imagines #jeongin fanfic #jeongin scenarios #jeongin x reader #jeongin x you #jeongin x y/n #jeongin smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #skz #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader

[nostalgic-muffins]

bored out of my mind so here r my obey me hcs for what halloween costume they would wear. idk

lucifer

i just know his ass is the parent with no costume walking behind all of his brothers and having to carry their candy. BUT if he HAD to wear a costume then i think hed wear like a vampire costume or smth. idk i dont think hed wear anything

mammon

werewolf. need i say more

leviathan

he has like a whole bunch of cosplay already so either a tsl character, ruri chan, or like a random ass anime character. asmo would see him putting on his ruri chan costume right before they go trick or treating up in the human world and be like "HELL NO YOUR NOT GOING OUT LIKE THAT" and make him wear something else. anyway he went out as a diff anime character. but SPECIFICALLY an anime character that has headphones so he can listen to happy halloween by junky on loop throughout the night to drown out the sounds of his brothers arguing while belphie and satan plot ways to kill lucifer (they are literally plotting out loud right behind him and lucifer repeatedly goes "you two realize i can hear you, right?" at least four different times and every time he says it they look at him like hes insane before going back to plotting out loud)

satan

either a werewolf or cat

heres why.

cat: for obvious reasons

werewolf: if lucifer decided to go as a vampire then hed go as a werewolf bc i just KNOW hes read twilight (source: trust me bro). if hes upset about being werewolves w mammon then hell go as a cat instead

asmodeus

its the one time of the year where he can wear whatever the fuck he wants so he goes all out!! makeup, dresses, high heels, everything!! hed probably wear one of those sexy nurse costumes and be silly all night while flirting w the humans that r giving out candy

beelzebub

burger. like the burger costume jade west wore from victorious. (please know what im taking about please know what im taking about please know what im taking about please know what im taking abou-) it makes him hungry tho so yall have to stop by mcdonalds every two seconds (rip ur wallet bc none of them have human world money </3) either that or a werewolf just like in the halloween event

belphegor

he wears the fuckin snork mimimi old man pjs and he has the long ass hat and fuzzy slippers and he carries around a candle and everything. also hes carrying his candy in a pillowcase and ends up making lucifer carry it not even halfway through the night bc "hes tired"

diavolo

hed be like "yippee!! human world candy!!" in his demon form and the humans giving him candy would be FUCKING TERRIFIED. theyre shaking and slowly giving him the whole bowl of candy and hes like "oh my!! i didnt know humans were so generous!"

barbatos

he probably wouldnt wear a costume. hed just be following diavolo around tho. diavolo would beg him to do smth tho so hed end up going in his demon form or smth

luke

he was debating what he should dress up as like the whole month of october and every. single. time he asked, the brothers would be like "go as a chihuahua." and hed lose his shit. he ended up going as a flying squirrel tho so that was adorable.

simeon

idk i feel like he wouldnt wear a costume. hed help luke carry around his candy tho. luke would beg him to just wear his angel outfit and hed give in. he would get soooo many compliments throughout the night.

solomon

hed be like a mad scientist w a white lab coat and safety goggles and gloves and everything

OR (this one is my favorite out of the two for him)

jack skellington. now here me out on this one-

#obey me swd #obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me nightbringer #idk how to tag this HELP ME #obey me satan #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon