ʚɞ i post inconsistently because i work, i’m a uni student, and do marching band
please keep this in mind when making a request!
ʚɞ MY FICS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN IN A LITERAL CONTEXT!! remember most of the people i write for are REAL PEOPLE. my fics do not portray how they are in real life in any way shape or form.
ʚɞ i will only write for fem!reader because i am a female and don't feel comfortable writing anything else.
ʚɞ NONE OF THE IMAGES I USE IN MY FICS ARE MINE!!! all credits go to their rightful creators.
ʚɞ i will write for any fandom depending on the request. however, my ults are bts and skz.
ʚɞ i will write smut, fluff, and whatever else your heart desires! use of "y/n" will also be limited.
ʚɞ most if not almost all of my fics are/will be smut fics so this blog is an 18+ ONLY blog. i am not responsible for any media you consume if you lie about your age.
ʚɞ this is a safe space for EVERYONE! no homophobia (i myself am part of the lgbtq+ community!), racism, and any other kind of disrespect will be tolerated.
ʚɞ i am a proud asian-latina and most if not almost all my fic titles are with spanish songs. if it bothers you, simply don’t interact.
ʚɞ i hope you guys enjoy my fics just as much as ill enjoy writing them!
•or: hey cute jeans, you seem to have caught chans attention before a race. and your a fan, might as well take you for a drive, call it fanservice. he's got a sports car, and he's got a good idea of what to do with you while he drives it reallll far.
•warnings:MDNI! contains sexual content. unrealistic depictions of riding while...racing. unrealistic everything tbh. he has a dick piercing (woah, pause.)
•a/n: you KNOW I had to make a chan one. (lino one here :>) we will be getting fluff soon I just need to get this freak out of my system.
“you, yeah you. wanna go for a ride?”
what?
you stop dead in your tracks, hearing a deafening vrooming and a voice that you recognized all too well.
you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the bang chan, infamous street racer who’s won more races than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.
“really?” you mumble, you could smell his loud cologne. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘c. bang’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.
“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat, manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the passenger door flies open on its own “i take it you’re here to see the race?”
yes. yes you were. but you were kinda speechless given your current circumstances, so you just nod, a school girl blush making its way to your cheeks and he just snickers. cute.
without a second thought you make your way inside. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream and you were screaming on the inside.
immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of the car. it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its beauty. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it.
“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” chan says smoothly, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.
indeed, you heard about how chan built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic (yes we WILL be getting a mechanic!chan fic soon trust). but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.
chan tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”
“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.
“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. chan’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.
sweetheart, that single pet name had you feeling hot. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, he’s so pretty—he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the race, a gloved thumb taps against his steering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”
shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘bang chan’ in bright bold letters.
drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.
one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.
“hold on, sweetheart,” chan purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that stood in front of the row of cars.
chan’s got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.
it was intense, you feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. a tall woman dressed in black carries a hefty checkered flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.
the cars that were lined up beside and next to chan start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement. chan gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast.”
and he wasn’t kidding.
the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.
his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way. he’s flying by each checkpoint.
you feel the thrill ghost through your veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. chan makes a few sharp turns, with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each mile.
fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—
“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own fantasies. chan’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place.
with a quick glance at his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”
“i—”
it’s like his cologne got louder.
you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. was he flirting?
not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shameless thoughts.
and the more you stared at his hardened bulge, the more thoughts you had.
but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.
not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked—literally.
chan positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his pants just so you could ride something else entirely.
chan groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing.
chan knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over. but where's the fun if theres no danger?
you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length with each thrust.
belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f-fuck, what about t-the race?” you speak in a breathy tone.
“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further up to your chest. he cups one of your tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, so pretty. look at you,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.
both of you groan in unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars already catching up.
they didn’t have a chance, though.
they looked like tiny dots in the far distance. chan even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.
“c-chan,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. gasping every time his piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold metal makes your thighs quake and your panties were lazily shoved to the side as he didn’t even bother taking them off.
yet.
unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f-fuck, who taught you how to ride? , tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”
your whiny moans only pitch louder, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.
“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, your mind growing more and more hazy the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock.
chan’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the street races.
“bet you are. so sloppy,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down on his lap over and over, your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.
erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. chan feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”
whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock.
with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips-” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.
you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a upward thrust of his hips. seconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, chan uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.
he was close.
the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and chan groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.
once he puts his car in park, chan falls back into his seat, his dark eyes flickering back before screwing shut, releasing a shuddering breath through his teeth.
you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with slick.
with a raspy tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”
“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.
as he grabs your hips, steadying you—tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you a final thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body, his tense muscles bulging.
“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty mouth open in breaths and eyes screwed shut.
chan’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed squelching down your slick cunt.
he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist as you settled downfrom your high, breaking away from his lips and setteling in the crook of his neck, nibbling into his skin.
you’re just sat on his lap, too weak to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.
a hum was your only reply, and hes resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.
chan couldn’t care less about any scandal though—he had you on his lap and he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him.
~
what youve learned today was bangchan was absolutely filthy. but, hes still a gentleman, he drives you back to where you described your house was, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “thank you,” you watch as he puts his helmet back on.
“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”
your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your neck. “yeah, please.”
“such manners, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s upcoming races. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. chan slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.
maybe not that much of a gentleman.
chan’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your chest. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes before putting the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”
you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y-yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.
but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.
with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of chan’s car before he pulls off.
hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,
you're done with the day by the time you reach the door, but the hallway has some surprises you definitely weren't prepared for.
pairing: lee minho x reader, neighbours to lovers
genre: fluff; eventual smut (not in this chapter)
warnings: none
word count: 2.16k
kysa's note: i've been planning this for a while. if you wanna enjoy a cute fluffy fic that slowly gets heated, you might want to follow along ! have a good time and let me know what you think in the comments :) xoxo
listening to: youth by lee know
who was this cute little ball of fur ?
and more importantly, what was it doing in front of your apartment ?
the day had been a rare, slow-motion train wreck. usually, you prided yourself on your efficiency — you were the type to have your inbox at zero by noon and a 6:30 p.m. date with a murder mystery and a bowl of ramen. but today, the universe had other plans. by the time you finally stepped away from your desk, your brain felt like it had been put through a paper shredder. every 'quick' meeting had evolved into a two-hour deep dive into nothingness. if you closed your eyes, you could still see the green gridlines of an excel spreadsheet burnt into your retinas.
with a heavy work bag digging into one shoulder and a laptop bag clutched in your hand, you finally entered the apartment complex. the air conditioning in the lobby hit you like a blessing, cutting through the humid layers of the city you had been carrying all day.
moving to seoul for your job in finance five years ago was a decision you never regretted. if you were willing to hustle, the city welcomed you with open arms; of course, it comes with its own cons — the endless sea of commuters and the pressure to always be on — but you had managed to formulate your life just as you liked it. you lived in a safe area, not so quiet that your thoughts echoed, but not so loud that they were drowned out either. you had saved vehemently for two years to buy a flat in this specific complex. the architecture was a dream — white stone interiors and soft ambient lighting. elegant potted plants placed along the entryway made the air smell more like floral and natural fragrances than the noxious fumes generally permeating the city.
"good evening mr. shin, hope your day went well !" you greeted the guard. he was a sweet 60 year old man, and you had developed a special bond with him. you still remembered the day you moved in, struggling with a massive floor lamp, and he had wordlessly taken the other end of the box and guided you to the lift with a soft smile. over the years, he had become a warm fatherly figure in your life.
the wrinkles around his eyes creased deeply as he offered the same soft smile. "good evening to you too, ms. y/l/n. looks like work was tough today."
you let out a long sigh, nodding as you adjusted the slipping strap of your bag. "ah yes, i can't wait to just.... cease to exist for a few hours. remember to drink some water okay ? it's way too hot out there for you to be sitting here all day."
mr. shin nodded, pointing proudly to the water bottle on his table — the one you had gifted him a while back because you noticed he never had a drink nearby. "i always keep this bottle with me, don't you worry ! have a great evening, now. get some rest."
you smiled back, the interaction giving you just enough energy to make it to the lift. as the doors closed, you rolled your sleeves up to your elbows, unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, and let out a breath you felt like you had been holding since 9:00 am. you leaned your head against the cool metal wall, closing your eyes and just letting the hum of the lift vibrate through your skull.
the lift dinged.
8th floor.
you moved towards your apartment, half-imagining your bed and that warm bowl of noodles you’d been craving since lunch. as you reached into your purse, fingers scrambling for your key card, you saw it.
a blur of grey in your peripheral vision.
you stopped mid-motion, key card forgotten. there, sitting right in the middle of your doormat, was the most adorable creature you had ever seen.
a dark grey kitten.
one look and you were absolutely swooning. all the day's stress — the deadlines, the emails, the spreadsheet — it all vanished. the kitten padded softly over the bristles of the mat, looking confused, his little head tilting as he tried to figure out where he was.
without a second thought, you kicked off your shoes and tapped your key card, pushing the door open just wide enough to toss your bags onto the entryway chair. you didn’t even make it inside before you were spinning back around, dropping to a crouch to meet him at eye level.
in the three seconds your back was turned, the kitten had made a move. he had somehow managed to get himself halfway inside your discarded shoe. he looked like he had found his new home, like he wanted to live the rest of his life right there in that leather loafer. his tiny hind legs were sticking out, wiggling as he tried to burrow deeper.
"is this your new home ?" you couldn't help but coo, slowly reaching out to pet him, your fingers ghosting over his fluffy little head. he stared up at you with beady, glittering eyes — wide and curious. but as he tried to shift, he realized he was a bit stuck. the shoe was a tight fit, and he started to look a little uncomfortable, his tiny paws scrabbling against the leather to find a way out.
"oh, hold on, let me help you," you murmured, your heart melting into a puddle on the hallway floor.
you carefully reached in and pulled him out of the shoe, scooping him into your arms. you tucked him against your chest, and the second he felt your warmth, he stopped squirming. he cuddled right up to you, his tiny heart beating against your arm in a fast, rhythmic drum. you started stroking his fur, and his eyes began drooping. he was settling in for a nap right there on your arm, and you were just looking down at him, adoring him, admiring every tiny whisker and the way his ears twitched in his sleep.
minho was panicking. just slightly. but yes, definitely panicking.
moving into the new apartment had been wreaking absolute havoc on his sanity. he had originally planned for a methodical sunday move, but an unexpected appointment had forced him to shift the entire operation to a friday. now, instead of being settled, he was living in a half-unpacked mess at 8:00pm, his timeline completely in tatters.
cardboard boxes were piled up ceiling high, forming a maze he hadn't quite figured out yet. tape dispensers were lost, the kitchen was a disaster, and he had been so busy sorting through joonie's stuff that he had completely lost track of time.
and he’d lost track of the kitten.
he suddenly realized the apartment was way too quiet. he hadn't felt a tiny tail brush against his ankles or heard the sound of claws on cardboard in way too long.
he called out the name, his voice echoing against the empty walls. he looked under the fridge, his heart starting to race. he flipped over empty cardboard boxes, checking the closets, checking behind the heavy curtains. his pulse was thumping in his ears because this was a new place — joonie didn't know the layout, didn't know which corners were safe.
and then, minho saw the front door. it wasn't fully latched. the movers must have left it ajar when they brought in the last of the furniture.
"please don't be outside," he muttered to himself, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.
he rushed out into the hallway, his gaze darting toward the moving boxes piled up near his door. he started shifting them, checking if joonie was hiding in the shadows of the crates, his mind playing out every nightmare scenario of the kitten finding the stairs or the lift.
just then a sweet cooing voice fell into his ears.
"aw — you're such a sweet baby, hm ? wanna sleep ? sleepy baby, it’s okay. have a good sleep, hm ?"
minho’s head whipped around.
he saw a woman sitting on the floor right near his apartment door. she looked like she had just come back from a long shift — shirt and trousers — but she was currently occupied. joonie was almost completely asleep in her lap, cuddling her arm like he had known her his whole life. he was a ball of grey fluff in her arms, looking more content than he’d been all day.
minho stood there for a second, half-relieved that he had found joon and half-awkward.
how do you even ask for your own kitten back when he looks that peaceful in a stranger's arms?
he stepped closer and cleared his throat, the sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor.
"hush — he is sleeping," you whispered, instinctively, eyes still locked on the tiny angel in your arms.
minho froze.
did she just hush him ?
a little spark of amusement hit him, cutting through the leftover panic.
she was kind of bossy.
and he kind of liked it.
"as much as he looks comfortable," minho replied, his voice a bit dry, a bit teasing, "i would rather have him sleep in his own bed than in the middle of the hallway. i'm not sure the hallway carpet is the best for his back."
your eyes snapped up to the source of the sound.
the brown hair was the first thing that hit you — it caught the hallway lights just right, messy in a way that looked like he had been running his hands through it in stress all day. then you saw his face. his features were sharp, almost feline, with eyes that watched you with a mix of relief and a hint of something else you couldn't quite place. he was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing lean, toned forearms that looked like they’d spent the day lifting heavy furniture. he looked effortlessly good for someone currently living out of boxes, which felt slightly unfair.
"oh — ohh! yeah, my bad — here, you go," you stuttered, feeling the heat rise to your face. you felt like such a dork. you had just bossed around a man while holding his cat hostage on the floor.
he nodded, stepping closer and extending his arms forward to take the kitten. you stood up slowly, your legs a bit wobbly from crouching so long, and carefully handed the tiny, warm weight over to him.
as he reached for joonie, his arm grazed yours.
it was a tiny touch — just a second of skin on skin — but it sent a sharp, unexpected jolt through you. you weren't the type to get flustered, and you certainly weren't looking for a 'moment' with a stranger. you were just tired, you told yourself. that was all.
"thanks," he muttered. he didn't say much else, just turned around and went into flat 0801 with the kitten tucked securely against his chest.
minho shut the door and immediately let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. he tried to walk further into the living room and promptly stumbled into an empty box he’d thrown haphazardly while he was searching for joonie.
"dammit," he huffed, kicking the box aside.
he moved across the messy room to the only corner that was actually set up in the entire house. joonie’s corner.
had he figured out where he would sleep ? no.
was his own life unpacked out of the bazillion boxes towering over him ? no.
but had joonie's bed been arranged with the little sheets, his tiny pillow and all his toys ? yes.
priorities.
he put joonie into the bed gently, watching the kitten curl into a ball and let out a soft purr.
"you had to go sleep in a pretty girl's lap, huh ?" he whispered, his voice low and a bit gravelly.
he paused, the word echoing in his head.
pretty ? yeah, she was.
even with the 'long day at the office' look, she had a certain glow that made his chest feel a little tight. it was a bit suspicious how quickly he had noticed that, but he blamed it on the moving-day adrenaline.
on the other side of the wall, you were standing in your entryway, staring at your own closed door. you looked out the peephole and saw the number of moving boxes still piled up next door.
the mystery kitten owner had disappeared into flat 0801.
yours was 0802.
he went into the flat beside yours.
he was your new neighbour ?
"well," you whispered to yourself, the silence of your apartment feeling a little less empty than usual. "guess i'll be meeting him again."
