Have y'all seen those fragantica TikToks that choose notes for different moments in anime characters' lives? Luckily for me, I love both anime boys and also fragrance (side-eyeing my perfume collection now), so I've been eating GOOD lately.
The downside, unfortunately, is that people choose the notes more for the *vibe* and less for the actual scent, which is good storytelling but terrible perfume creation. So I took matters into my own hands, even though nobody asked.
Here is what I would create as perfumes if I were put in charge of a KnB generation of miracles + Kagami high-end perfume collaboration.
Tetsuya Kuroko
Kuroko asks the elusive question of "what does *nothing* smell like?", and I think I figured it out. Most of his notes are super light, fresh, and barely there. There's a certain sharpness to the light notes, so you know you're smelling *something*, but you shouldn't be able to put your finger on exactly what it is. The smoke is probably the only part that really makes you know that it's there, and even then, it's nothing more than a disappearing act. This would be great if you love airy smells that are a little synthetic and barely there.
Taiga Kagami
Kagami is categorized as "just a guy" in my head; he's a bit of a meathead, he's not got a lot going on in his noggin, and he's here for basketball and only basketball. There are three key traits that I tried to capture here: dude smell, the warmth of being Kuroko's light, and his angry, hot-headed nature. I took a lot of inspiration from Clue's perfume Warm Light Bulb. It should smell warm with a little bit of anger from the spices, and then the very base layer underneath should smell like Axe body spray. This would be great if you like warm smells or traditionally masculine smells.
Ryota Kise
My ultimate goal for Kise's scent was to find a balance among basketball player, it-boy model, and mannequin. He's still a basketball boy, so he does still smell like sweat and skin musk, but he's got the notes of tonic water, lemon, cashmeran, and vanilla to really lean into the high life. Plastic, powder, and minerals should give that sort of fake feel I was going for. I would expect this to smell smooth and luxurious, with just a bit of bite underneath to keep it interesting. This would be good if you like powdery or traditionally more feminine scents.
Shintaro Midorima
Midorima is probably tied for the second most complex smell on this list. This mixture should smell lucky and green and a little earthy in a grounded kind of way. I started with sweat (spoiler: they all have sweat), clover for four-leaf clovers, and gold for good luck. The clay, paper, and benzoin would give it an earthy quality that almost smells dry without smelling dirty, and then the green leaves, bergamot, and green tea flower should brighten it back up with a little earthy citrus. This would be good if you like really green smells, maybe things with matcha or green citrus in them.
Daiki Aomine
I wanted Aomine's perfume to smell dirty without being unpleasant. Like, yes, there's dirt and sweat and salt and musk; he's going to smell like a true working man. However, there are also these clean wood smells, these creamy lactones, and this bright, citrusy, and interesting yuzu. The choice to include lactones was partly inspired by the incredibly controversial perfume Seminalis by Orto Parisi. People tend to really, really hate the smell, but I wanted Aomine to smell a little...scandalous? Salty and milky and dirty...idk, you get what I mean.
Atsushi Murasakibara
MY MAN, MY MAN, MY MAN! The goal of this scent was to capture the smell of eating snacks in the bed you've been rotting in all day. It's sweet with the bubble gum, cotton candy, raspberry, and popsicle. It smells like a warm bed with the sweat, musk, linen, and skin. The soda bubbles and the ozonic notes should balance out the hyper-sweetness of it while also nodding to his snack addiction and his excessive height. Unfortunately for me, I don't love gourmand sweet smells, but if you like things that are a little fruity and heavy on the candy but want more than just one note, this would be good.
Seijuro Akashi
When I sat down to make Akashi's, I wanted to go with notes that were what an emperor may smell like. There's a lot of tea, incense, and flowery notes that smell expensive, a little powdery, and a little older. It's like rich antiques and unbridled power, and it would likely lean a little east asian in the scent profile for obvious reasons. Amber and vanilla would ground it and make it a little more masculine and modern to the point of being wearable. The piece de resistance, though, would naturally be the absinthe note, which would give it that dangerous and sharp feel that matches his personality. This would be good if you like flowery or tea smells, or if you really like black licorice, I guess.
Hopefully, this was fascinating or interesting to you at all. Let me know if you think I should do this for other shows. I just finished watching The Summer Hikaru Died, and I'm thinking I might be able to pick 2-3 doomed yaoi couples to create perfumes for.
{P.S. Also, more fics are coming soon, I promise!}
Oh Renjun. My sweet boy, single boy left out by the government yaoi ships that are NCT Dream. You are a victim, my dearest beloved, and I want to fix it.
Hopefully things with Huening Kai are working out. Yo, who said that???
Title: 7 is an Odd Number
Rating: Teen
Warnings:
Renjun-centric, a lot of background and internal musings, lightly featuring Mahae and Nomin and Chenji, multiple relationship reveals, Renjun isn't lonely, He's just independent, Dream is 7 for convenience, also this was written before Mark announced he was leaving, brief mentions of making out and oral sex, teen rating for a reason, fluffy fluff for the rest of it though!
Characters & ships: Lee Haechan x Mark Lee, Lee Jeno x Na Jaemin, Park Jisung x Zhong Chenle
Word count: 6k words
Renjun starts to believe that he is the only one still single.
More below the cut!
Renjun wouldnât call himself lonely. He is independent, and there is a very distinct difference between those two things. He felt independent when he discovered increasingly convoluted ways to open jars that didnât hurt his wrist. He felt independent when he only cried a few tears on the top rung of the ladder as he was changing the battery of the fire alarm. He felt independent when cooking dinner for himself and only himself night after night after night after night.
And it was totally independence that was pooling in the pit of his stomach as he lay alone in his dark room, the sheets just a little too cold, the fan just a little too loud, and the bed just a little too wide.
Because if you admit that itâs not independence, then youâre sad, and Renjun isnât sad!
Okay, it did help significantly that his members are on an âofficialâ dating ban, which of course just meant do what you want but donât get caught. Itâs been years since Renjun had accidentally walked in on another member with a girl in places they probably shouldnât be, and itâs been even longer since theyâve come to Renjun for girl advice. Once he came out, he wasnât really seen as an authority on the topic.Â
So, this night, itâs just like any other night. Renjun is in the kitchen independently making himself dinner, and the dorms are quiet, and it feels a little like he lives alone. The oven beeps to signal itâs preheated, and Renjun slides the tray of vegetables in at the same time heâs setting a timer on his phone, and then heâs back to scrolling through the same three social media apps. Every once in a while, he sips from the glass of water that sits on the counter next to him, and the tap of it against the marble is the only sound in the room. Itâs so quietly normal that he forgets for a second that he lives in a house with six other men, so when Jaemin and Jeno walk through the threshold to the kitchen in all their loud glory, Renjun's soul nearly flies out of his body.
âAiiiiiiii, Renjun!â Jaemin exclaims, his bright smile plastered across his face, and then Jeno files in behind him, carrying at least a dozen grocery bags in his fists. He sets them on the counter with ease before offering a small, apologetic smile and a wave to Renjun.
Jaemin, naturally, isnât carrying a single bag.
âYou two scared me,â Renjun laughs, still sounding a little shaky as he bends to check his food in the oven. âItâs been so quiet around here lately that I thought maybe everyone had moved out and didnât tell me.â
The other two boys meet each otherâs eyes, but neither of their faces changes, and it only annoys Renjun a little because after a decade of this all day, every day, it loses the sting it once had when they were younger.
âWe didnât mean to frighten you, Renjunnie,â Jeno offers, sounding apologetic as a small puppy-like smile pulls his cheeks up.
âAhhhh, well, I canât stay mad at a face like yours,â Renjun playfully admits before turning to Jaemin, who has started taking groceries out of the bags and prepping them for something he seems to be making tonight. âYou, on the other hand, have a face I can never forgive.â
Jaeminâs smile somehow gets wider. âThatâs my specialty.â
Renjun laughs softly in response, turning his attention back to his phone, the timer still ticking down diligently second after second. He can see Jaemin and Jeno out of the corner of his eye - not in a creepy way, just that heâs able to see movement. The two live in their own world half the time. Even now, they move around each other like they share a brain; neither is speaking, yet they both know exactly the other personâs next move, next need, and do what they have to make it all easier. Their conversations happen eye to eye, and it just seems like itâs always been that way.
What Renjun catches next happens so innocently at first. Itâs the briefest brush of fingers against skin, Jenoâs hand reaching out to Jaeminâs as heâs cutting yet another vegetable for whatever elaborate dinner they were cooking for themselves. Renjunâs brain immediately filled in the blanks. Jeno just handed Jaemin something, simple as that.
But the moment made Renjunâs stomach involuntarily flutter, and what an odd reaction that would be. So he plays the moment back in his brain, trying to see the movement in the periphery of his mindless meme scrolling, and he swears that Jeno wasnât handing Jaemin anything. He was just grabbing Jaeminâs hand. His fingers slid up his wrist, brushed against the soft skin by his thumb, and hesitated for a millisecond at Jaeminâs pronounced knuckles. He knows thatâs what happened. He knows thatâs what he saw.
The timer on his phone rings, shaking him out of the investigative playback looping in his head. He glances over at Jeno and Jaemin, and theyâre still both enthralled in their own tasks. Jaeminâs moved on to adding his vegetables to a broth before shimmying it over to the stove. He wiggles his eyebrows at Renjun.
âYou mind if I add another cook to the kitchen?â
âMineâs done anyway.â Renjun takes his own baking sheet out of the oven, shifting the space so that Jaemin can take over cooking, and as heâs plating his dinner, his peripheral vision is focused on every small movement the other two men make towards each other.
But thereâs nothing. Itâs totally normal.
Finally, Renjun takes his bowl of food and starts down the hallway towards his room.Â
It was the specific way that Jenoâs hands slid across Jaeminâs. Heâs not crazy - he knows that heâs not crazy - so it must have been out of the ordinary. Just replaying the scene in his head made a shiver curl down his spine. If a man like Jeno grabbed his hand like real Jeno had grabbed Jaeminâs, Renjun would absolutely freak out about it. It would have to mean something, and that canât only be true because Renjun is gay, right?Â
As he closes the door to his bedroom behind him and sets his bowl down, he realizes that in his confused haze about what he just saw, he left his drink sitting on the kitchen counter. With a loud, annoyed groan, he shuffles back out the door, down the hallway, around the corner, and into the kitchen, where he freezes in his tracks because Jeno is now leaning against Jaeminâs back as they watch the water boil.
Most importantly, Jenoâs arm is wrapped around Jaeminâs waist, and his lips are pressed against the curve of Jaeminâs neck, nearly his shoulder.Â
Continued on Ao3...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I've decided to do it. So here's my Mark / Haechan fic that I wrote before Mark left the group but have been using to sop up my tears from his departure over these last few weeks.
Lowkey, I don't even really believe in MaHae, but I do very much believe they make fantastic fics, so you'll be getting a handful like these.
Title: Journey Mercies
Rating: Teen
Warnings:
MaHae, Religious Guilt, Written by someone who is not even remotely religious (but I promise I did research), Haechan-centric, I don't believe in calling him Donghyuck so he's exclusively Haechan, Sad Haechan, a little angsty, Haechan is guilty about that kiss, you know THE kiss, not entirely canon compliant - the timeline is a little messed up tbh
Characters & ships: Lee Haechan x Mark Lee
Word count: 13.1k words
Summary:
When Mark gifted Haechan a bible after the disaster that was their first kiss, Haechan got the message loud and clear. But just because he knows Mark doesn't want him doesn't mean the feelings - and the deeply embedded religious guilt - go away.
More below the cut!
Haechan knew it was over from the moment he ripped the wrapping paper off the Bible.
He had to stop his face from falling to disappointment as he ran his fingers - yet to be calloused by time and stress - across the textured cover. Mark was still standing in front of him, studying him for a reaction, and if it was anything other than excitement, Haechan knew that it was going to tip their already precarious relationship over the edge into unsalvageable oblivion. This, of course, did not stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces when he opened to the inside of the front cover and saw the thing you need most scribbled in Markâs weirdly pristine Korean handwriting.
Things had, naturally, been weird since the kiss. Totally fair considering Haechan didnât really plan it out well, and instead of preceding it or following it up with a confession of his feelings, he took Markâs absolutely red-faced, delirious anger as more than enough of a rebuff and tried to pass it all off as a total accident and a lack of self-control. It didnât make Mark any less mad, but it did protect him from an outright rejection, which he took as a win only after he convinced Mark not to leave the company and move back to Canada in the aftermath of the whole ordeal. He figured heâd have to find a different way - maybe one a little less intrusive and surprising - to tell Mark that he was madly in love with him.
He thought he had time to make a plan. They were only kids after all.
But the Bible was a subtle yet telling indicator that Mark was not interested.
âDo you love it?â Mark asked, his lips still pulled back into a large cheetah smile as he watched Haechanâs face for any reaction.
âY-yeah!â He nodded vigorously, hoping the movement would shake his brain enough that heâd start to believe his own words. âItâs a beautiful edition.â
âI asked my dad to send it from home. Itâs specially printed overseas.â
âIt must have been a fortune.â
Mark shrugged, a slightly uncomfortable blush peppering the tips of his ears at the tone of Haechanâs kind words. To be frank, it wasnât that much money, but when they were eleven, any amount spent on each other was a lot of money. âWorth it if it means helping out a friend.â After a moment of silence, with Haechan still turning the book over in his hands, unsure of what to say next, Mark ended the conversation. âI really think itâll be good for you. Some guidance. Self-control. And, dude, if you ever have any questions or anything, Iâm right here to help.â
They never spoke about it again. The kiss, not the religious stuff. They talk about religion all the time. Haechan took Markâs recommendation to heart, read the Bible forward and backwards and forwards again, and he can recite stories off the back of his hand like heâs the pastor giving liturgies, and he never really stopped to think about how he actually feels about it all because that would leave too much space for him to remember the kiss.
Now, at his big ripe age, Haechan always feels a lightning bolt shatter through his chest when Mark grips his hands to pray because his brain connects the feeling of the warm touch of their lips together with Markâs devotion to the church, and it feels so gross in his body that half the time he canât even string together fake words to fake pray in his head. So, instead, he stands there, hand in hand with Mark and disassociates long enough to promise God that heâll pray later, alone in his room, when it actually means something.
âAmen,â Mark whispers softly, and just as he is opening his eyes, Haechan feigns the same movement, giving a small smile to Mark as heâs supposed to. âDo you feel ready?â
âAs ready as I usually do.â
âSo not at all,â Mark jokes, a big smile pulling his lips back away from his teeth, and it makes Haechanâs knees wobble just a little, and thus he sends another apology up to God for good measure.
âMore ready than you.â Thereâs this guffawing laugh that Mark gives when heâs nervous, and it warms Haechan up enough to really feel like they can do this. Theyâve done it a million times before, so why would this time be any different?
The feelings Haechan had never went away. He spent the last fourteen-ish years choking down his ever-deepening crush on Mark. To be honest, it wasnât that hard. When you spend every waking moment together, juggling two teams, living together, practicing together, you donât really want for more. Emotionally, the relationship was fulfilling, and there was no physical aspect, but itâs not like Haechan struggled to find willing participants when he felt a little lonely. Heâs had a rotating door of women in his bed, and they mostly filled the void as he shoved the romantic feelings he had for his best friend into the deepest, darkest corner of his body. He patted those feelings down, deeper and deeper, and filled the empty space within him with the scripture from the Bible he was gifted, so they had no chance of seeping out.
And, yeah, maybe the emotional stuntedness of one-night stands is sinful, but itâs not as bad as the sin of falling madly in love with your male best friend. He likes to think that God would appreciate the trade-off he was making, especially since it was mostly to save Markâs salvation at the end times. If Mark was right about it all, and the Bible was real, then he didnât want to be the reason Mark didnât get into Heaven.
How noble of him.
Continued on AO3...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It's been a while. That's my bad. Yada yada life's been busy, yada yada insert copy and paste author's apology and excuse here. The good news, though, is that I now have a master's degree and a desire to get back into writing and posting!
As I'm getting things set up to jump back into writing (Kinktober 2026 is calling my name...), I do have a quick question for all of you.
If I were to start posting real person fics about, say, a handful of K-pop boys, would they do well, or would they be a total cringey flop?
I will read and love your RPFs because I like the way you write
I will read and love your RPFs because I like RPFS about K-pop boys
I'll give anything a try once!
I'll ignore the RPFs, but I'll still be here for the anime fics
I will actively block you if you start posting RPFs
Voting ended onMay 6
Excited to see my next chapter (literary pun intended), regardless of the direction! Thanks for being patient, and I promise I'll be back soon, for realsies this time đ€đ
âomg youâre so creative. how do you get your ideasâ i hallucinate a single scene in the taco bell drive thru and then spend 13 months trying to write it
"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.
You know that feeling when you rebound to your ex who left you after your replacement for him abandons you in the same way to go chase his passions? No? Just Kuroko?
Might be more chapters in the future. The more I sit on this story the more it writes itself in my head.
Title: Rebound
Rating: Teen-ish?
Warnings:
AoKuro, Post Kagami Leaving Japan (non-canon timeline), Exes, Depressed Aomine, Messy Kuroko, KagaKuro Mentioned, Euphemistic Sex on page, Like it's never directly said but we all know what happens, Emotional Hurt, Pain
Characters & ships: Aomine Daiki x Kuroko Tetsuya
Word count: 4.4k words
Summary:
âWe should go to sleep.â Kurokoâs voice sighed and creaked with a tired weight, one not solved by sleep alone.
âDo we have to?â
âIâm not interested in making mistakes tonight.â
âNeither am I.â
~~~~~~~~~~
Kuroko ends up on Aomine's doorstep in the rain after Kagami leaves for the US. Against Aomine's better judgment, he invites him in.
More below the cut!
It was raining when Kuroko ended up on his doorstep.
Aomine knows this because he hates the rain - has always hated the rain. It drenches everything, dulling the world to a quiet, gray thumping that felt like it matched the feeling inside him a little too closely. Thereâs a dissonance when it feels like your worldview and real-life click into place, into focus, for just a few moments, and it feels like everything you ever believed was right all along, and at that point, itâs hard to convince yourself to keep going.
He lays on the couch, cheek against one arm and ankles resting on the other, his feet unflinching and dangling over the edge. His arm limply hangs off the couch, his fingers the only part of him moving to brush the itchy carpet against his skin so slowly that it almost feels like sandpaper. With the lights dim and the television loudly playing a game show or the news or maybe some American reality TV show he couldnât understand, his eyes stare hazy and unfocused ahead, his mouth drooping slightly open to breathe softly and steadily, and the rain outside pelts against his house like it has a vendetta.
Itâs morningâŠor maybe eveningâŠitâs definitely afternoon when the doorbell rings. Not expecting any visitors, Aomine reacts the way he has been since the rain started: he does not move.Â
Then the doorbell rings again.
And again.
And again.
With a very loud huff and a sudden rush of anger painfully gushing through his veins to temporarily thaw the quiet, depressive cold that had settled through him, Aomine picks himself up and drags himself to the door, muttering curses beneath his breath. He swings the door open, every movement of his body feeling fluid and natural, his gift on the court being a curse in a body and brain that felt so foreign any other goddamn time, and God why is anyone even fucking bothering him?
âSatsuki, I swear to God-â But the sight before him cuts his air off in his throat. His face softens. The anger recedes, rushes back to his core, and his veins feel sore at the intrusion when such a face is standing at his door.
âTetsu.â
Kuroko looks up at him, dripping from the ends of his hair like an abandoned kitten and dripping from his nose like someone who had just been sobbing. He gives a little shake of his head, and Aomine has spent enough time staring at his face to know that heâs biting the inside of his cheeks to quell any lingering emotions.Â
âIâm not Momoi-san,â He considers for a second, bringing his eyes back down to stare at the ground. âIâm sorry.â
âNo, I wasnâtâŠâ Aomine doesnât know what to say.
They stand there as the rain pours around them, Kuroko barely safe from the heavy drops thanks to the pseudo canopy that hangs over Aomineâs micro porch. Aomine feels frozen, stunned into confusion by the sight before him, one he hasnât seen in years, Tetsuya Kuroko standing on his doorstep. Finally, Kuroko breaks the ice.
âItâs cold out here, Aomine-kun. May I please come in?â
Continued on AO3...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The one about the ship no one else cares about, or the deeply unpopular character, or the extremely unusual AU?
The fic that got no comments or kudos when you posted it?
Months or years from now, that fic might be exactly what someone is looking for in the sea of fics about all the popular characters, ships, and AUs.
Your fic might be the only fic out there that has what someone is looking for. The only fic that scratches the itch that it turns out you and that reader share.
Anyone else watch Wind Breaker and proceed to lose their mind over Jo Togame? My poor girlfriend hasn't been the same since we finished it...
Title: The Very Ecstasy of Love
Rating: Explicit
Warnings:
AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, situationship, public sex, m-receiving handjob, PV sex, unprotected/no protection mentioned, m-receiving oral VERY briefly, reader on top, Togame isn't *submissive* but he's whiny and needy, you get caught, reader doesn't finish
Characters & ships: situationship!Togame Jo x AFAB!Reader
Word count: 3.5k words
Summary: Your surprisingly romantic summer fling, Togame Jo, wants to show you around the Ori theater, but you don't see much you're not already familiar with đ
18+ Minors DNI!
More explicit below the cut
Shhhhhhhhh he shushes you softly, your shared giggles poorly stifled as he pulls you by his soft grip on your wrist into the theater at the Ori, where his gang hangs out. Heâs got this soft smile on his lips and a childlike glimmer in his eyes, and itâs hard to remember when he looks at you like that that your situationship is with the second in command of the most notorious gang on your side of town.
Togame Jo met you outside of a coffee shop one early evening in the summer. You were drowning in work, sweating rivers down your back in the oppressive summer heat, and he knocked into you while you were leaving and he was entering. Immediately, you could tell he was trouble by his jacket; you recognized it as Shishitoren, and that rang the bad news alarm bells in your head. He wasnât alone, but he seemed to be the only Shishitoren member who even saw you. You mumbled a quick apology under your breath and attempted to duck away from him and out the door, but his arm came up too quick, blocking your exit. Your heart jumped, caught off guard, as you met his eyes through the orange lenses of his glasses, and he drank you in for just enough moments to feel like a lifetime. You distinctly remember the way he brought up the half empty ramune bottle in his other hand to his lips, his tongue darting out to catch the drink as he tilted it back, and not once did he look away from you.
He let you go without saying anything to you, but it wasnât the last time you saw him.
You didnât meet Togame Jo until a few days later when he came into your work.
âAfternoon, stranger.â The first time you heard his voice, every hair on the back of your neck stood up. It was deep and melodic, and it vibrated in your brain in a way that would be memorable if you had heard it before. When you look up, you see him staring back at you from the entrance of the small record store you were working at as a summer gig. He was alone that time, but he still stood there, one arm blocking the door and the other holding a nearly empty ramune bottle to his lips, his thumb caressing the edge of the bottleâs mouth. âDidnât know you worked here.â
You pulled a face. âSomething tells me you definitely did know I worked here.â
He smirked. His side smirk, the one that went half way up his cheek and made him radiate confidence, gave you butterflies. âYou caught me. Asked around.â He sauntered up to the checkout counter, tapping his bottle against the wood. âDidnât recognize ya the other night, so I thought Iâd do some investigating.â
You leaned back away from him, still wary, but you two were in public. How much trouble could he cause? âWhatâd you find out?â
He looked down at the counter, using his other hand to draw small pictures against the grain of the wood. His eyebrows jumped behind his bangs, and his tongue tapped his front teeth as he considered. âYouâre here for the summer from college. Lived on the other side of the tracks when you were in high school, but your family moved over here after you left. You work at the record store on the corner of,â He waves his hand dismissively, âwhatever these two streets are, and you love a good macchiato.â
Now, your own eyebrow arched high on your forehead, unconvinced. âYeah?â
He shrugged, that smirk dancing up his cheek again. âThat last one was a guess.â
âA correct one.â
He sucked his teeth, making a sharp, proud sound at your confirmation. Holding out one hand, he fully smiled this time. âTogame.â
You shook his hand briefly, pulling back quickly to give yourself space from him again. âA pleasure.â
âAnd your name?â
âYou didnât figure it out in your research?â
Another smirk. He just kept smirking. âDidnât want to be too creepy.â
âNo offense, but itâs a little late for that one.â
He eyed you, and when his deep voice whispered your name, a hint of uncertainty in the way he squinted his eyes and cocked his head, he was looking for confirmation.
You whistled softly. âYour informants are good.â
âWell, Shishitoren wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood, and-â
â-is that all?-â
âAnd, I wanted to ask you out. This Friday?â He stared at you, his eyebrows high and vulnerable, as you considered for a moment. The alarm bells rang a little quieter in your head, and his pretty, soft green eyes and gentle nose were doing wonders on the voice that was yelling to not get involved with a gang member.
âArenât you in high school?â
He scoffed a laugh out, smiling like he outsmarted an opponent. ââGraduated,ââ He added the air quotes himself, âin May. Just rounding out some of the more boring aspects of my position before passing the torch in a month or two.â
It didnât take much more to get you to agree.
That date was the best date youâd ever been on. Despite his exterior, he was easy to talk to, he was gentle with you and protective without being overbearing, and he didnât push you into anything you didnât want, which is how he ended up just a situationship. He was absolutely smitten with you, but he wasnât willing to tell his friends - colleagues? - about you, and you liked him a lot, but you knew you had to go back to school sooner rather than later, so it was easy to see him as just your summer fling. Nothing more.
Thus, it was one late summer night that you found yourself breaking into the Ori theater with him after everyone else had gone home. He didnât like bringing you around for a lot of reasons, all of which you understood, but you were unendingly curious about the place he called home, so he took you to show you.
âYouâve got to be quiet,â His dark voice flutters as heâs unable to wipe his stupid, beautiful smirk off of his face.
âIs anyone even here this late?â
He shrugs. âNot usually, but the last thing we need is Choji catching us. Heâll have a field day with it.â
You had only ever heard stories of Choji, but the small things you knew were enough to convince you to stay far away from the rest of the Shishitoren boys. You were lucky you found this one.
âWell,â He throws the hand up thatâs not still connected to your wrist, his fingers gently pressing against your pulse point and feeling the thrumming of your heart in your veins like he did whenever he held your hand. âWelcome to my humble abode. Mi casa es su casa.â
You look around, taking in the space, the giant stage and the broken down seating and the worse for wear ambiance. âI thought yâall were a gang?â He raises his eyebrow in questions, and you give him a playful smirk of your own. âThis is giving more low budget Shakespeare in the park.â
He scoffs, feigning a look of hurt on his face. âOh, Ophelia, you wound me!â
You scrunch up your face at his statement. âOphelia? As in-â
âHamlet.â He cuts you off, pulling your closer and guiding your arm around his waist as he wraps himself around you. He drops his face close to yours, his gaze drifting between your eyes and your lips, and your heart jumps a little. âNymphs, in thy orisons, be all my sins remembered.â
You lean up to kiss him, smiling against his lips after a moment. âYou are so surprisingly bright, Togame.â
He laughs just enough to gently breathe into your mouth. âYouâre surprised?â
âWell, when your school house looks like this,â You shoot a glance to the broken down stage again, âAnd your curriculum is from the school of hard knocks and you majored in fist fights,â This makes him chuckle, âIâm surprised you know who Shakespeare is let alone that you can quote Hamlet from memory.â
He shrugs, pretending that the compliment rolls down his back like it didnât add to the peacock feathers he seems to have sprouted. âSomeoneâs got to hold the house down around here.â
You hum a little, pretending to believe his nonchalance, as he kisses you again, deeper this time. His lips mold to yours, his tongue teasing yours, and you canât tell if your skin is heating because of his attention or because of the bright stage lights that are shining down on you two. You reach a hand up to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, and you can feel him smile against you this time. When his teeth find your bottom lip and scrape against it gently, you canât stop the tiny moan that escapes from your lips, and this breaks the dam on his throat. He lets out a long groan, rolling his neck back to release the tension, and you take this opportunity to steal soft kisses against his neck, trailing down to the collar of his shirt. At this angle, you can feel his Adam's apple bob against your lips and the rumble that shudders through his vocal cords with your lips. You canât help but purr at the sensation.
âGod, baby,â He drawls, âYouâre driving me crazy.â
At his words, you drag your tongue slowly up his neck with exaggerated movements, and this sends a sharp shiver down his back. He grips one of your wrists again, bringing your hand to the front of his pants and pressing your palm to the hard length that has grown there. You gasp a little, closing your eyes to appreciate his arousal, and he smiles, pressing another kiss to the side of your lips.
âThis is the very ecstasy of love.â
You smirk. âHamlet. Again.â
He shrugs a little. âIâve got a theme going.â
You give him a little laugh at this, snaking away from him to press your palms to his chest and push him to the front row of seats right next to where youâre standing. Heâs surprised when you push him down, guiding him to sit in a seat, and you lean over his lap, your hands on his thighs, as you meet his lips for another soft, sensual, teasing kiss.
âIâve got an idea,â You whisper, and he smiles as his eyes drift slowly down the length of your body and back up.
âI love when you have ideas.â
You smile up at him, dropping to your knees between his thighs, and soon your hands are finding his belt and pants button and zipper. He hisses out in surprise, but quickly, heâs helping you slide his pants off his waist. With familiar ease, your hand pulls his cock out from his underwear, and you waste no time before guiding his length, fully hard now if it wasnât before, into your mouth. He pants out a harsh breath, throwing his head back at the sudden wet warmth of your mouth. You give him just a few licks, letting your spit coat his skin, before you pull back and wrap your hand around him, opting to stroke him.
âI donât want you to finish too early,â You tease, taking the nails on your other hand and raking them down his thighs, making him jump a little in his seat.
âOh, f-fuck off,â He moans, his tone gentle and playful.
Your hand moves up and down his shaft and occasionally you circle the tip with the palm of your hand, gathering his pre-cum and pulling it down his length until the telltale slick sound is echoing through the theater. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and small gasps and pants and moans pour from his lips, his mouth praising you over and over.
Something you learned over your weeks with Togame is that he is a noisy boy. You couldnât keep him quiet if his life depended on it.
âOh, angel,â He moans out into a groan, his head rolling from the back of the seat to his shoulder to look at you with hazy eyes. âGod, your hand is so perfect. Every part of you is so perfect-fuck-and I love what you do to me.â
You hum in approval. âI like when you talk like that.â
He nods, his brain already completely fucked out. âYou like that, you like my words? Youâre an absolutely goddess,â A shiver trembles through his body as another glob of pre-cum drips from his tip down his shaft to meet your hand. âYou were sent here from heaven, and I am so lucky to be the one to find you.â
You reward him with a small flick of your thumb just under the head of his cock, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, the seat squeaking loudly with his shifting weight. You can feel each of his veins throbbing in your grasp, his heart beat matching the time of yours fluttering in your chest.
There is something about physical intimacy with Togame that just felt soâŠromantic?
âWhat a good boy,â You murmur softly, and he whimpers so loud that youâre convinced you see his soul leave his body.
âWhat did you call me?â He laughs breathlessly, his face scrunching up as his brain tries to keep track of the situation around him.
âYou just want to hear me call you it again.â
He groans. âThen will you do me the favor?â
This big time gang member, second in command and feared by more than a handful of people in a few mile radius, and he is so shameless under your touch like this. You flick the sensitive spot under the head of his cock again just to see him writhe. âI said good boy.â
The air leaving his throat is so strained it sounds painful. âYou voice is like honey. I wish I could record it and listen to it as I sleep. I want you whispering in my ear all the time. I canât get enough,â His words are rushed through his teeth. His cock trembles in your hand, and thereâs now a consistent river of arousal dripping down his length.
âAh, Togame, I feel the same way about your voice. So keep talking for me.â
âA-anything you want,â He groans, his hips starting to buck involuntarily. Your hand rakes up to his hip to keep him plastered against his seat with a soft but firm grip. âI love when you touch me. Your skin is so soft.â
âYeah?â
âY-yeah,â He gulps, his mouth sounding dry. âYour hand is perfect. It fits around me - o-oh God - perfectly, and it makes me feel so good.â
You reward him this time by dropping your mouth open again and leaning forward to tap the head of his cock against your tongue, and he nearly cums on the spot. His nails dig into the arm rests of the chair, and you smile softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes, but he only glances down at you briefly before hissing again.
âIf I look at you, I will cum down your throat,â He throws his head back again, his eyes squeezed shut.
âWell we canât let that happen before the final act, now can we?â You coo, and thatâs when you stand, letting go of his cock and shimmying your shorts down to the floor. His glazed eyes briefly come up to stare at your body as you settle yourself in his lap, and he groans into the whiniest moan when you lift yourself up onto your knees, shift your underwear out of the way, and take his cock in your hand again to guide it against your slippery slit.
âHoly fucking shit,â Itâs the only deep groan he can force through his lips, and it makes you feel so powerful. You bring your other hand to his chin, tilting his head down to look at you, and you get to watch the shock on his face, the wavering eyebrows and quivering, surprised lips frozen wide open, as you push him into your wet warmth. You move slow, savoring the amount of focus he has to muster to not cum immediately, and when his full length is inside you and youâve fully sat in his lap, you finally let out your own shaky moan.
âYou like this, Togame?â Your own voice is fluttery with arousal. He nods his head so fast that he looks like a bobble head, and it makes you laugh softly as you slowly start to ride him, bringing your hips up and down, gliding along the full length of shaft before dropping to feel him press against the sweet button inside you.
He can no longer form words, a soft muttering babble dripping from his lips like drool as his big arms wrap around your back, his hands finding your shoulders and keeping you close to him. You press your forehead to his, liking the feeling of his breath on you and being able to look into his hazy eyes as you make him lose his mind like this under you.
âSuch a big, strong boy,â You tease, âAnd you canât even handle a little pussy?â
He shakes his head quickly, his hips bucking into you again, and he goes deeper than usually, ripping a surprised gasp out of your throat. You bring your hands to his chest, holding yourself up.
âGood boy,â You encourage, âI want you to fuck me like that.â
He doesnât need to be told twice, always taking your requests so nice, and so he shifts below you just enough for leverage, then suddenly his rocketing into you at a gut-churning speed. Heâs whimpering and whining below you, and you can feel from the way heâs shaking and losing a consistent speed that heâs close, and the way heâs punching against your g-spot, youâre close too, and you gasp and pant and moan and cry out as you nearly, so so nearly reach your high, your sounds echoing through the theater like youâre performing on Broadway, the sounds so pretty against the harsh, deep, manly sounds of Togame below you, and God, your toes curl, and you feel it, and you feel him, and and and -
âKame?â
In a panic at the sudden third voice in the room with the two of you, you throw yourself off Togameâs lap, falling to the floor.
âFuck!â Togame cums suddenly, pouring over his length and spurting a little in your direction uncontrollably, hitting your face and hair. Before heâs breathed through his orgasm, before heâs even done cumming, heâs pulling his pants up his waist. You both whip your head up to the stage where a small teen is standing, hair curly and blond and Shishitoren jacket a little too big for him. You recognize him from Togameâs stories.
âYou two couldnât find a better room?â
âChoji, what the fuck?â Togame yells, his voice suddenly shifting into âwork modeâ, and it sends a shiver down your back.
Choji holds his hands up defensively. âHey! I saw the lights on and decided to do something good for once and come turn them off!â His eyes shift to you, a small smile painting his cheeks. âThis must be the girl whoâs been distracting you!â
You look back at Togame who canât hide the small blush covering his cheeks and nose. Choji jumps off the stage, landing a little close to you, and he squats next to you to get level with your face. He holds out a hand, his smile still painted on, and it makes you a lot more uncomfortable than Togameâs smile. âNice to meet you!â His eyes drag down your body, staying a little too long on your thighs. âI can see why heâs been busy!â
âOh my God, I hate you,â Togameâs voice betrays his feelings, sounding like an older brother to a younger brother, and it makes Choji laugh wildly until you shake his hand hesitantly. Once he gets what he wants, Choji skips past you and towards the side door.
âWhatever Kame!â He singsongs, ducking through the doors before poking his head back in. âYou two can get back to your little fun. Just, Kame, turn the lights off when you leave. The electric bill has been wild lately!â
The door shuts, and you can hear the soft echoes of Choji skipping down the hallway you came in. When the coast is clear, you glance back up at Togame, the panic finally draining from your face. He seems to be floundering with words.
âSorry about the-â He gestures towards the small streaks of cum that are still on your face and hair, but you hold a hand up, cutting him off.
âDonât worry about it. Not the worst part of that experience.â
He laughs a little at this before gesturing down the rest of your body. âI can help you finish if you-â
You cut him off again. âI would love that, but can we do it back at my place?â
He laughs again, standing and reaching a hand down to help you up. âCourse. Let me just get the lights.â
I think I already know how this is going to go, but I need to know which story you want next. Both are written and will eventually be posted, just which one would you like posted first?
Which story do you guys want to read from me first?
Wind Breaker - Just straight smut with Togame Jo x Reader
Kuroko No Basket - Teen-ish rated angst between Aomine and Kuroko
Voting ended onJul 26, 2024
Like I said, I think I know how this is going to go, but I wanted to see the results anyways.
