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notjustjavierpena · 4 months

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(Mid)summer Loving

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A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season.

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare.

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling.

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him.

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left.

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same.

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background.

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you.

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him.

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing.

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now.

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable.

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.”

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him.

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants.

You.

He wants you.

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible?

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social.

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment.

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know.

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too.

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again.

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side.

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you.

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?”

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in.

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over.

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high.

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you.

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound.

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so.

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?”

“No?” Your reply is almost a question.

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you.

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time.

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees.

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation.

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight.

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

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#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

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skzdarlings · 13 days

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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. “My husband isn’t coming for me.”

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand. You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer. The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone.

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return.

Hyunjin was quiet on the call. Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation. When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster.

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business. He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family. Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you. When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties.

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld. The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved. Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call. Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance. He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call. You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned. At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster. You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport.

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes. They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown.

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst.

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said. He ended the call seconds later.

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says. He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife. It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat. “Or else.”

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim. “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening. They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds.

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth. Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you. He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental. There is a professional distance between you. His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business.

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity. He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies. He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind.

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you. You often catch him staring. He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up. His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions. You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter. He seems more than content to listen. He remembers everything too.

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else. He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away. He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon. He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card. It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship. You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations. There would be consequences if the marriage fell through. You would be blamed, not him. Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him.

He politely rejected you at every turn.

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job. It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse. You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom. You could hear him cursing above the running water.

You only meant to peek. The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over.

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder. There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars.

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty. His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain. Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head.

He froze at the sound of your gasp. His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair. They captured yours.

You held your breath.

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“You can come in,” he said. “This is your home too.”

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through. Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder. You could see the wound was a thin stripe. It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering. You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start. You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut.

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact. You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever.

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection. “You – you have people to protect you.” You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face.

“I do,” he said. “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

This did not surprise you to hear. It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people. It is a fact known to few. It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him. He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private.

You have never known another man like him. Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you.

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others. If something happened to him, what would become of you? Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter? This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin. This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless.

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke. “Please make sure you always come home, okay?”

He did not answer at first. When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire.

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization.

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine. It made him stand a little straighter. “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked.

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger. He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said. “I know that. And I know that you’re – good.”

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue. You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself. He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted.

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked.

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady. You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting.

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before. You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity. Of him, of all that he was, all that he did. His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband.

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive.

You desperately wondered what was on his mind. The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response. Was he feeling the same tension? Were his thoughts the same realization?

My wife.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so. It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss.

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face.

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time.

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire. It was so different to that kiss. You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that. You never knew what you were missing.

Your quiet husband and his multitudes. All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin. His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever.

He walked you backwards. With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back. He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself. Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath.

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain. He looked at you like he already loved you. He looked at you and saw the reciprocation. You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled.

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place. His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body. You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now. It is why it became your favourite.

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body. It broke through that last layer of ice. He surrendered with a choked breath.

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket. Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt. You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard. You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires. No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real. His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way. He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before.

Recollection makes you crave another kiss. You think you will always be starving for more.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest.

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed. He kissed you again, long and slow. It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.” He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat. “Please, my wife.” He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it. “My wife,” he repeated.

“My husband.” The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness. He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way. His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness. Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you.

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers. It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth. He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth. He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you.

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time. He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you. It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before. You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind. His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together. You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars. Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses.

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless. He always wanted more.

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled. However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever. He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business. You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations.

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed. There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance. The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing. But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before. But while his silence was significant, so was his glance. Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud.

You granted him some distance for a time. When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap.

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side. You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants. His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up.

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything.

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing. You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair. He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair. When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek.

There were some wipes on his desk. You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up. His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist. He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself.

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face. Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied.

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe. Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him. This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees.

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly. You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten.

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face. He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe. The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body. You were completedly naked underneath.

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began. It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh. You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants. It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.

“Please,” you said.

He would never deny you anything. Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture. When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour. You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat. His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise. He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth.

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment. He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink.

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds. That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one. He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss.

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed. The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment.

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame. When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it. His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up.

“What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat. The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower.

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over. He licked and kissed back up to your mouth. “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you. His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him. It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small. Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception. This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like he was a life preserver in a storm. The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise.

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you. He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat.

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you. You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man. He understood. He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure. His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before. You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms.

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs. It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered.

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again. He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over.

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more. Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you. You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world. You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him.

You have been out of his arms for too long. Your visit to your family grew tedious before long. Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return.

Now it seems you may never see it again. You may never see him again.

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now. You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue. You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business. You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision. You must eliminate the need for choice.

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies. When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings. There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them.

It is true, you do not like violence.

That does not mean you do not understand it.

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement. Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown. You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway.

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle. You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants.

Then Hyunjin emerges. You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it. If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now. There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely.

Then he stumbles, recognizing you. You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you.

He looks nowhere but your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” you finally say.

“I—” He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress. He shakes his head. Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say. You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply. You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business. The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry. You’re late.”

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth. He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says.

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand. His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.

You turn to watch them go. In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm. He is fast, effectively disarming you. He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him. You throw your arms around him. The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain.

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe.

“I’m all right now,” you say. “Sorry I beat you to the punch. I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles. That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger. He tips your head so he can look at your face. He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find. He is enchanted every time.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I take care of what belongs to me.”

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space. He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless.

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says. His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary. It makes you tingle from head to toe. “Do I need to remind you?”

You never actually answer. You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home.

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold. He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place. Now, he is not slow or subtle. He is a force of nature. He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call.

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body. “I’m your husband. There is nothing I should be holding back.”

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair. You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers. “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath. “Do whatever you want.”

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down. He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites. You shiver at every suggestion.

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed. He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

“You’re my wife,” he says. The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress. It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce. “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.

This time a yelp escapes your lips. You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress. He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers. You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next. You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together.

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again. “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down. “My husband,” you say again.

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you. With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold.

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking. His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead. You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place. Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows.

“I make you feel good,” he says. “I take care of you. You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently. Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up.

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess. “Just for me,” he says in that whisper. “Just for your husband.”

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you.

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up. He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed. You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap. He forgets to remove his necklace. All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you. You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you.

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions. When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase. When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever. When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms.

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart. Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow. Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him. You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels.

Before it ends, you change position. He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely. He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down. Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name. His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body. Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again. He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately. Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you.

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin.

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn. His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth. There is no more ice, no more cold concrete.

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh.

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly. It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art.

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says. “Just like you rescued me.”

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him. It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back.

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x you #hyunjin x you #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

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taeyongdoyoung · 2 months

Text

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

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elliethefroggy · 3 months

Text

What if Eddie had been a little less oblivious and had invited to Buck to trivia-karaoke night.

They’re all three going to hang out at the karaoke bar, and at first Buck’s nervous because Tommy is super cool, but once the trivia quiz actually starts, all the nerves go away, and Buck’s sponge of a brain has a chance to shine.

He gets question after question right, barely having to consult the two others. Eddie’s probably used to this side of Buck, but Tommy gets to sit there, mesmerised because not only is Buck exceedingly attractive but he also has brains (does Tommy have a competency kink? Who’s to say).

By the end of the night, Tommy’s probably forgotten all about trying to answer the questions, too busy watching Buck’s eyes light up every time he knows an answer (and those eyes light up an awful lot). Overall, the night goes well, and Buck’s amazing brain probably wins them a pitcher of free beer or something.

Because that night went so well, all three of them start hanging out more and more. Maybe Tommy somewhat discreetly suggests to Eddie that they invite Buck along, just so he has the opportunity to stare in Buck’s eyes some more.

But Tommy doesn’t do anything at about his developing crush, at least not right away.

Firstly it’s because Tommy’s trying to figure out just what the deal is between Eddie and Buck. Are they dating? Are they the most healthy divorced couple of LA? BFFs? Platonic soulmates? Not-so-platonic soulmates?

Maybe it doesn’t take him that long to figure out that those two are not together, but then he still needs to make sure that there isn’t some unrequited or very-requited-but-they’re-both-oblivious crushing going on between Eddie and Buck.

My guess it takes him a while to finally decide that they’re some flavour of queerplatonic life partners (he decides on this after a lot of subtle and not so subtle questions; Christopher is probably his most helpful informant).

(Realistically, Tommy would have probably just straight up asked one of them if they were together because Tommy seems pretty good at communication, but that’s no fun for me.)

But then, once he’s figured out that Eddie and Buck are definitely not a thing, he still needs to figure out what exactly Buck’s sexuality is.

Because, sure Buck’s only ever dated women and is such an ‘ally’. But Buck spends way too long looking at other men’s asses. Tommy notices this because he’s probably caught Buck staring at the same asses Tommy himself was just looking at (remember the hanger scene when Tommy very blatantly checks out Buck’s ass).

So now Tommy’s having to figure out just what Buck’s sexuality is. Is Buck gay? Is he closeted? Is he as straight as he claims to be? Is he repressed? Also what’s with all the flirting (because of course Buck’s going to be unknowingly flirting with Tommy; Buck just can’t help himself).

Eventually, Tommy and Buck are going to have some one-on-one bonding time without Eddie.

Buck takes him up on those flying lessons which means Tommy gets trapped in a confined space with Buck on a regular basis, having to deal with his growing feelings towards what can only be a golden retriever in human form. Buck is kind and sincere and so so earnest, Tommy has no choice but to fall for him.

But Tommy still doesn’t know where Buck’s sexuality lies, and he’s getting to the point where’s pulling his hair out in frustration, trying to figure it out. Because no way can a heterosexual man stare at Tommy’s lips that often. There is no straight reason for that, right?

He then makes the mistake of also offering Buck Muay Thai lessons.

He doesn’t realise his mistake until they’re both sweaty and shirtless. Buck looks very good sweaty and shirtless. But it’s fine, Tommy manages to cope, he just avoids looking at the large expanse of wet skin right in front of him. He’s not distracted by all that skin. He’s fine.

(Luckily, Buck doesn’t know enough about Muay Thai to notice how badly Tommy is fighting.)

Somehow they both get tangled up and they fall to the ground (I don’t know shit about Muay Thai). Buck lands flat on his back and Tommy ends up on top of him. Tommy goes to get off Buck immediately because Tommy’s not exactly light, but then he makes another mistake: just as he places his hands on either side of Buck to push off the ground, he looks at Buck’s face

Buck’s cheeks are nice and red (because of exertion? Because of Tommy’s close proximity? Both?), Buck’s breathing heavily, his breaths getting faster and faster the longer Tommy stays where he is. Buck’s eyes are near black, his pupils leaving only the thinnest band of colour.

Buck’s staring at Tommy, and Tommy’s staring at Buck. Then Buck once again glances down at Tommy’s lips as Tommy is lying over him, their sweaty chests pressing against one another.

And Tommy cracks.

He throws himself off Buck, getting to his feet, and crosses over to the other side of the mat to put some distance between himself and Buck.

When he turns back to look at Buck, Buck is still lying on the ground, now leaning back on his forearms, looking up at Tommy. Which is a sight Tommy would love nothing more than to see again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Tommy says, “but are you really straight?” Which is definitely not how Tommy wanted this conversation to start, but sue him, he’s having a breakdown. “Sorry,” he repeats, “It’s just there’s been a lot of flirting and a lot of starring at my various attributes,” he tries again, poorly, “Not that I’m complaining; I would love nothing more than to have you stare at my lips and flirt with me for as long as you want. But I need to know where we stand before I lose my mind trying to figure you out.”

And the thing is, Tommy’s not the only one who’s been struggling these past few weeks.

Buck’s been dealing with these weird feelings towards Tommy since day 1. At first he just figured it was because Tommy was so cool (which he is), and then he thought it was because he was jealous that Tommy was spending so much time with Eddie, thinking maybe Tommy was trying to steal his spot in the Diaz household. But is wasn’t either of those things. Buck’s been wracking his brain for weeks, trying to figure out just what he was feeling towards Tommy.

And here’s Tommy, all sweaty and shirtless, so much glistening skin on display, and Tommy’s offering Buck a possible answer to all these feelings he’s been unable to name.

And what Tommy’s implying makes some sense. Buck thinks over all the instances he’s hung out with Tommy, compares his behaviour to the times he’s had crushes on women, and thinks maybe Tommy’s onto something.

Buck, who is a big believer of the scientific method of experimentation, figures there’s an easy way to test Tommy’s theory.

Buck slowly gets up from the mat as his brain goes into hyper-drive, processing the fastest sexuality crisis known to humanity.

Maybe Buck flexes a bit as he gets up because Tommy’s watching him and he’s always liked attention.

By the time he straightens up, the sexuality crisis has been dealt with and he’s ready to act on these newly revealed feelings.

He likes Tommy’s theory a lot.

“I have been staring at your lips a lot, haven’t I?” He says, purposeful flirty.

(Once again they have both been (knowingly or not) starring at each other longingly for weeks, they are both shirtless and covered in sweat, and had their naked chests pressed up together just moments ago; neither of them are thinking very rationally.)

And Buck (flirty Buck who made picking woman up into an art-form) walks/stalks over to Tommy, leaving enough room for Tommy to back away if he wants to.

“Maybe you should do something about that?” Buck suggests, and very deliberately stares down at Tommy’s lips.

Tommy knows they should have a more thorough discussion about where both of them stand, but he’s only one man.

Tommy closes the gap between them, places two fingers underneath Buck’s chin, and slowly leans in to finally kiss Buck.

The kiss lasts no more than a moment, not nearly long enough for either of their tastes, but Tommy needs to be sure that Evan’s sure.

“So?” he asks simply, fingers still under Evan’s chin.

“Yeah, definitely not straight.” And Evan leans in to kiss Tommy again. Tommy does not mind at all.

(They then spend the rest of their Muay Thai lesson making out.)

#911 #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan buck buckely #I need more canon divergence fics with these two #please someone write this for me #i don't have the time #someone write me a long-ass slow burn between these two #please #i'm not above begging

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number1mingyustan · 5 months

Text

-Cuffing Season-

His Friend

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader x boyfriendsbestfriend!jungkook

Warnings: established relationship, kissing, cursing, explicit smut, striptease, size kink, threesome, unprotected sex, protected sex, oral (f.+m.), gagging, fingering (f.), squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, a lot of sexual tension, mentions of a safe word, surprisingly healthy communication

Summary: (What SZA said)²

Word Count: 5.3k

_______________________________________________

(a/n: ive never written anything like this, it's not really my thing but before i was a carat, i was an army and i fear that will never change)

The city lights shine brightly outside. Beams of red, green, white, and occasional blue reflect from the buildings surrounding you. You don't pay it much mind, thoughts elsewhere as the rays of light zip past your line of sight.

The train is moving pretty fast, and the window in front of you isn't all that clean, making it difficult to pinpoint where the lights outside are coming from. It's where everyone must be, you figure, considering the car train is empty.

Mostly empty anyway.

The two men sitting in front of you are engaging in conversation without you. You're standing, hands gripping the silver pole beside you as a means of support. Your eyes shift between your boyfriend and his best friend as they laugh and talk.

The vehicle suddenly comes to a stop, brakes working at full force to let the passengers off from the other cars. The sudden shift causes you to lose your balance, stumbling over.

A pair of strong arms act fast, reaching out to hold you up in your drunken state.

"Be careful," Mingyu mumbles, pulling you in by your legs to hold you up. Your hands move from the silver pole to the hand holder above you as you step closer to your boyfriend.

"I am being careful," you furrow your brows.

"Sure you don't wanna sit?" Jungkook asks, looking at the space between him and Mingyu that you occupied only a few minutes ago.

"I'm fine," You protest, walking away from the two men in front of you and back to the pole in the middle of the train. You spin around it mindlessly, nearly losing your balance again and giggling to yourself.

Your mind is a bit hazy, high off of pure fun, and maybe one too many drinks. What started off as innocent fun has slowly segwayed into much more.

You're not entirely sure how you even ended up here.

See, Jungkook and Mingyu have been best friends for years. They met when they were teens and have been pretty much inseparable since. But as they grew older, their lives took them in different places.

Mingyu stayed closer to home, but Jungkook has a more adventurous spirit. He moved about an hour away into the city, and opened up his own tattoo shop.

Of all Mingyu's friends, Jungkook had to be your favorite.

Of course the two kept in contact with one another, but they didn't see each other as much because of the distance. With both of them working and Mingyu's job being so demanding, it had been months since they'd actually seen each other. There were time where their schedules aligned and plans could be made.

Like tonight, the two made plans in the city and you decided to tag along. You found somewhere in the middle, hopped on the train and spent the night out drinking and singing karaoke. The time flew and before you knew it, people started to go home and you realized it was time to head back.

But you guys hadn't seen Jungkook in so long and you were having such a good time, didn't really want the night to end. So you invited him back to your place for the night, making it obvious that you didn't want the fun to end. Matter of fact, it hadn't even really begun yet.

You scan over his features, noticing his facial expressions and body language. You can tell something is weighing on his mind. He pulls at the piercing on his bottom lip with his teeth and his leg hasn't stopped bouncing.

You all know what's going to happen tonight. There's been a thick tension brewing the entire night and you've all silently agreed to it. You wonder if he's having second thoughts already.

"Something on your mind, Kook?" You ask softly, walking over to the tattooed man.

He lifts his head up, meeting your half-lidded eyes. You take in his features, roaming over the piercings littering his ears, lip, and eyebrow. His hair has gotten longer too, forming into light waves. He looks good.

He blinks at you, blush creeping up his cheeks and nose. The drinks he had earlier already had him flushed, but now you're the one causing it.

"All good, Shorty," Jungkook flashes you a grin.

You return it, lips pulling upward at the sound of the nickname. He's always used it with you, understandably so. You were much shorter than the two men before you, and even Mingyu towered over Jungkook.

You pat his head lightly, running your fingers through his soft hair. "Okay."

He watches as you make your way back to the pole, spinning around it playfully. The skirt you have on is entirely too short, and it's doing a poor job of covering you as your body rotates around the pole.

Jungkook's leg bounces faster and he crosses his arms over his broad chest. Fuck.

The train comes to another stop moments later and you lock eyes with Mingyu. He stands to his feet, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"C'mon Kook, it's our stop."

___________________

It's been a while since Jungkook stepped foot in this apartment. You've decorated it nicely, surely it was your doing and your doing only. Mingyu's never had a creative eye. There's pictures of the two of you scattered across the space and Jungkook can't help but feel like he's intruding.

It's a fleeting thought though, he doesn't dwell on it. He buries it deep inside, beneath the alcohol pumping in his veins, clouding his thoughts and filling it with the desire brewing in his cock. Jeon Jungkook is not a man who lives a life of regrets.

He averts his gaze from the pictures, following you into the bedroom. You take off your black leather jacket and hang it up. "You can have a seat," You tell him.

He sits down on your bed, facing you. Like a man, his long legs take up most of the space as he sits wide.

"You want something to drink?" You ask, leaning against the door frame.

Jungkook nods. "Something strong."

You raise an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts already?"

"Never, Shorty," He grins.

He eyes you shamelessly. You've ditched your jacket, exposing the little black croptop you had on. He's seeing now that you decided to go braless, perked nipples peaking through the material of your short. You're not wearing your boots anymore either, removing the extra height you had earlier and placing you directly in his line of sight. His eyes are clouded with lust, scanning over your frame as he nibbles on the piercing on his lower lip.

Just as you turn to walk out of the room, Mingyu's body appears, blocking you from fully exiting.

"Sit down, sweetheart," Mingyu nods his head toward the bed.

"I'm serving our guest," You cock your head to the side defiantly.

Mingyu towers over you and his eyes grow intimidating. He narrows his eyes, erasing every hint of amusement in his expression. Goosebumps rise up along your skin and your body shivers.

"Don't need your drunk ass dropping any glasses, I'll get it," He says, holding you by the shoulders. He turns you around and disappears to another part of the house.

Almost immediately, you're sitting down on the bed. You're obedient, Jungkook takes a mental note.

MIngyu comes back a few moments later holding two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He fills up both the glasses and hands one to Jungkook, keeping the other for himself.

You frown. "Gyu."

Mingyu takes a sip, allowing the brown liquor to leave a satisfying burn in his throat. "Hmm?"

"Did you consider that I might have wanted a glass?" You huff.

"Don't throw a tantrum in front of our guest," Mingyu says, extending his glass to you. "You don't even like whiskey."

He's right, but it doesn't stop you from taking the glass out of his hand and taking a sip for yourself. It goes down smoothly, but leaves an ache in your throat and a bad taste on your tongue.

Mingyu takes the glass back and takes another sip for himself. "Kook," Mingyu says.

The tatted man averts his attention to your boyfriend. "Ground rules."

"No hickeys, she's still my girl and I don't want you leaving any marks," Mingyu says.

Jungkook nods. "Okay."

"Can't cum inside, or on her face, shit's disrespectful. You can be rough, but not too rough. No hitting or anything like that.," Mingyu continues.

You can't help but sit there smiling to yourself. The lisp in your boyfriend's

"I wouldn't do that to your girl, Gyu." Jungkook interjects.

"I know, but I just wanna make it clear. I trust you, but I gotta make sure she's safe and comfortable. Pretty much anything else is fine if she doesn't have any problems."

"You got any problems?" Jungkook inquires.

"As long as she's okay with it, I'm okay with it. Just listen to her. Slow down if she needs to slow down, and stop if she says stop. She's submissive, but she's in control no matter what.

He looks at you. "If it's too much, you say something. Use your safeword. What's your safe word, gorgeous?"

"Mango."

Mingyu nods. "Good. You heard that, Kook?"

Jungkook shifts on the bed, visibly growing more comfortable in your presence. "Loud and clear."

"This isn't something I'd normally do, but we're all a little drunk and Kook, I trust you with my life. Y/n and I have talked about it before, so don't make me regret it."

Oh? You guys have been planning this? Jungkook thinks to himself. He knew you were comfortable around him and he's heard in great detail from Mingyu about your very active sex life. But to think you'd actually discussed this? He's kind of flattered.

"Never," Jungkook blinks. "I'll be careful."

Mingyu sits down on the bed, large body dipping into the mattress as he makes himself comfortable. He takes another sip from his glass and his gaze doesn't leave you. "Go ahead, Sweetheart."

You stand before them both, in a similar position to how you were on the train. Smirking, you bend over and pull your black miniskirt off before tossing it. You now stand in just your black lace thong and your shirt.

Both men watch you in a trance. It stirs a feeling of boldness in you, having their attention like this. Confidence pumps through your veins as your hands dance over the fabric of your top. You pull it off slowly and toss it onto the ground.

You stand in front of them wearing nothing but your lacy black thongs. Both of them are silent, eyes locked in on you and only you. Mingyu's seen this view plenty of times, but in this moment he's seeing you through Jungkook's eyes. Like it's his first time and he can't look away.

There's just something about you.

You leave a little to the imagination, climbing onto the bed without stripping yourself bare. Your knee dips into the mattress and you wedge yourself between the two men.

You lean your head in toward Jungkook, pressing your nose against his. He lets out a ragged breath as the tension in the room expands. You lick your lips slowly before removing the gap separating you.

Jungkook's kisses are different. They're slower, but by no means hesitant. He kisses you like he cherishes you, doesn't want it to be a fleeting moment. He takes his time, appreciating the way you taste and the way you feel. Smart man, knowing this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You pull away, resting your forehead against his. He leans in again, but you back away just enough that your lips don’t collide. He lets out a shaky breath, chewing on his pierced lower lip.

You tug on his shirt, “Take this off for me.”

You climb off Jungkook’s lap and onto Mingyu’s. You cup his cheek, leaning in and kissing him softly. He leans into your touch, kissing you back with desperation.

Mingyu... Mingyu kisses like like he's got no time left, yet it feels like all the time in the world. It's ironic almost, because he's sure he's going to spend the rest of his life with you. But he's impatient, desperate even, in the way he touches you and presses his lips against yours. But everything about him is so familiar, you always find yourself falling deep into him. His kisses are consuming, much like everything about him. Makes you feel like you're floating, and 30 seconds feels like an eternity.

You moan against his lips, placing a firm hand on his chest as your lips move against one another with haste. You feel one of his hands grip your ass and decide to pull away. You move his hand onto his own lap.

You lean back, leaving your boyfriend breathless and aching for your touch. You shift your gaze back to a now shirtless Jungkook. His tattoos are on full display, decorating his muscular body. The ink of his sleeve is nearly full, trailing all the way down to his fingers.

You climb off Mingyu’s lap, leaning in toward Jungkook. His gaze is intense, hazy as his eyes shift between your lips and your eyes.

“Kook,” You breathe out. “I wanna suck your cock.”

Jungkook’s mind feels hazy. The concept of you is messing with his mind. You’re submissive, but you know what you want and you’re not afraid of vocalizing it.

He holds his glass in his hand, swiftly bringing it to his lips and downing the leftover contents in the transparent dish. He sets the now-empty glass down on the nightstand.

Honest, he’s never looked at you this way before. He’s never had these kinds of thoughts about you. You were gorgeous and had a nice body, but anyone could see that. It was undeniable.

But he never actually had thoughts of you. As long as he’d known you, you were Mingyu’s girl. His best friend’s girlfriend, not the girl he’d ever imagine asking to suck his dick.

But who was he to deny you?

He licks his lips, giving you a small nod. You adjust your body, laying flat on your back. Jungkook stands over the edge of the bed, towering over your small frame.

He undoes his jeans, pulling them down with his underwear. His cock is already half hard, finally free from the material restraining it. You lick your lips slowly, waiting in anticipation.

His initial movements are slow, stroking his cock and dragging the tip along your lips. He teases you a bit, making sure you're comfortable before tapping his cock against your lips, signaling you to open your mouth.

You oblige, allowing your mouth to fall open and letting the tattooed man feel the warm slide of your inner cheeks, satisfying his newfound desire for you.

He exhibits great patience, taking his time to test your waters as he fills your mouth little by little. The weight of his cock on your tongue stirs a warm feeling in your belly.

"That's it," Jungkook groans, murmuring under his breath. There's a rasp in his voice that you've never heard before and it has you pressing your thighs together.

Of course your boyfriend could never be forgotten, finding solace between your legs. He pries open your legs, pressing them down on the bed as he pushes your panties to the side. There's a look of mischief written on his face as he disappears between your thighs. He immediately latches his pretty lips onto your clit, licking and sucking on your sensitive bud.

You nearly choke, letting out a moan around Jungkook's length. The warmth of Mingyu's tongue is driving you mad, causing your toes to curl up as you squirm on the bed.

One of your had entangles into Mingyu's hair, gripping and pulling at the lose strands. Mingyu grunts, sucking harsher on your clit and making you feel dizzy as you coat his face with your arousal.

Jungkook begins thrusting his cock down your throat, starting slow and building up to a steady pace.

Your mind feels hazy. There's so much going on, your brain can't keep up with everything that's happening with your body. Your eyes roll back and you gag around Jungkook's cock. He pulls out immediately, causing you to whine.

"You okay?" Jungkook asks.

You nod eagerly. "Don't stop."

He's taken back, but obliges nonetheless. He slides his cock back into your mouth, letting out a shaky breath as he watches the bulge appear in your throat. He finds his pace again, pressing the tip of his cock against the back of your throat with each thrust.

Mingyu slips a finger into you and you moan against Jungkook's length. You're soaking your boyfriend's finger, making it easier for him to slip in another, curling them and fucking them in and out of your tight cunt. He stretches you open, fingers moving at a fast pace that has you struggling to keep up.

You're careful not to use your teeth, remaining conscious and hyper-aware of the tatted man above you. Saliva pools in the back of your throat, and your other hand starts stroking the tatted man's length.

Your cunt squelches as it stretches around your boyfriend's fingers. Your hips move on their own, thrusting into his fingers and meeting his pace. He continues to suck down on your clit, groaning against your wet cunt and sending sensations traveling through your body.

You can feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. Mingyu can sense this, so he starts pumping his fingers into you faster and harder, curling them against the sweet spot that has your legs shaking in moments.

The pressure is building fast and you have to pull away. You move your head, and Jungkook's cock slips out of your mouth. You continue stroking him lazily, but your orgasm interrupts your mind and body.

"Oh fuck-" You cry out.

Your legs wrap around your boyfriend's head, nearly suffocating him as you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your hips grind against his tongue, moving frantically and quickly as the pleasure overwhelms you.

Your legs are shakily and your high-pitched moans echo through the room. Jungkook watches the view below him, forever etching it into his mind.

You ride out your high on your boyfriend's face, tugging harshly at his hair to pry him off once you come down. He lifts his head up, licking his lips as he stares at you with hazy eyes.

Your body falls limp on the bed. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as your fingertips tingle and you begin to fully tap back into your senses.

The room feels suffocatingly hot and your body trembles. The sheer intensity already has you tired, but your brain is screaming moremoremore. Your cunt throbs and aches, need to be filled–gotta be stuffed full.

"Need a break?" Mingyu asks.

You sit up, shaking your head. You slide the last bit of material covering your body off and look him in the eyes. “The opposite."

Your boyfriend smirks. "There's my girl, always insatiable."

You lean in, minimizing the gap between you and your boyfriend. "Feel so empty..."

Mingyu licks his lips. "Think I'm gonna let Kook fuck you first, okay sweetheart? I know that's what you want."

You nod eagerly in agreement.

"How do you want it?"

"I want-"

"Tell him, not me baby," Mingyu cuts you off.

Your body stiffens and you turn to meet Jungkook's hungry gaze. You bat your eyelashes at him. "From behind, fuck me from behind Koo.."

Jungkook doesn't need any more of an invitation. The tatted man reaches into the pocket of his discarded pants and pulls out his wallet. There's a shiny gold packet wedged between his two fingers. Naturally, he tears it open with his teeth and rolls the latex onto his length. He comes up behind you, pressing your back down so you're on all fours.

You feel the tip of his cock pressed against your folds. You're absolutely soaked, making him slide in easier than he thought he would, He planned to tease you a big, but your cunt invited him in so easily.

"That's it Shorty, let me in," Jungkook whispers.

You whine, gripping the bed sheets as he pushes his cock into you. He fills you up slowly, making you feel every inch of him. The stretch of his cock is delightful, filling up your lower tummy with a familiar warmth.

"Oh my g-" You whisper to yourself, voice muffled as you bury your head into the pillow.

"You're taking it so well baby, so good," Mingyu praises.

Your boyfriend's large body appears before you. His muscles are toned, stature stands above you almost intimidatingly.

"You're doing so good sweetheart, can you handle me too?" Mingyu asks.

You nod eagerly. Your back arches and you lift one hand to guide Mingyu's cock into your mouth. You moan around his length, allowing him to fuck your throat.

Jungkook finds a steady pace, ramming his cock into you from behind. The pleasure fills your body as he stretches your cunt. He slips in and out easily as your arousal drips on his cock.

The force of his thrusts make it easier for your boyfriend's cock to touch the back of your throat. Mingyu holds the top of your head lightly, guiding your mouth to maintain control and make sure it's not too rough.

You try to focus on your boyfriend, but the force of Jungkook's cock fucking you open makes it hard. You take a break, lazily stroking Mingyu's cock as you moan out.

You can feel the tension building between your thighs. Jungkook's cock is distracting, making it hard to do anything but moan and babble over the sheer pleasure.

"Please..." You beg. "Fuck–I"

He thrusts his cock deep into you, tip nudging against the sweet spot deep inside of you. The tension builds and you hardly have time for a warning. Your body is instantly overwhelmed and you completely lose control.

"Holy fuck..." Jungkook breathes out in disbelief.

You're cumming so hard you don't even realize the rush of liquid leaving your body. Your mind goes blank and your vision fills with dots, sinful moans, and screams echoing throughout your home. Your entire body trembles as you squirt all over your boyfriend's best friend.

The squeeze of your cunt forces him out and you gush all over the bed. He's quick to fill you again, fucking you through your orgasm. Jungkook buries himself deep in your walls, allowing the tightness of your cunt to pull his own orgasm out of him. It hits him fast, but the blissful feeling drags out for seemingly an eternity.

He groans, filling the condom with his load. It's filthy and overwhelming and you love it. Your entire body trembles and Jungkook pulls out once your grip has loosened. He lay on your back against the mattress.

His chest rises and falls as he breathes heavily, lungs desperate for air after experiencing his high. He climbs off the bed, disposing of the condom.

There are no words that can be said in this moment. It feels like forever before your eyes blink open and your vision clears. You look up, seeing your boyfriend's flushed face.

Mingyu looks down at you, hair falling over his face perfectly. His broad shoulders hover over you, making you feel even smaller under his gaze. "You good, baby?"

You whine, nodding.

He kisses your shoulder. "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

Your stomach does backflips at the sound of his promise.

Your boyfriend is all-consuming once again. His presence alone never fails to overwhelm you. Heat flows through your entire body as he fills you up. The familiar stretch has you trembling and squirming on the bed.

"Fuck!" You cry out.

Your entire body spasms, arms flailing as you desperately try to find something to hold onto. You can't keep still, nearly pushing Mingyu out.

A pair of large arms suddenly pins you down, holding you in place. You whimper.

"Hey..." Jungkook coos. "Where are you going, Shorty? Hmm?"

Unlike Jungkook, Mingyu has no interest in teasing. He's been on edge all night, since the moment you put on the damn skirt before you'd even left to go out.

It's almost cruel, how quickly he finds his pace, plowing his cock into you hard. It hurts, cunt sensitive from being used all night like this. But the pain is so good, it's almost addictive. It'll catch up to you later, but your body aches for more.

Jungkook's breath is hot against your skin, gentle hands applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you in place. His thumb draws small circles on the palm of your hand as he holds you. It deeply contrasts the sensations of your boyfriend's ruthless fucking.

"Shit.." Mingyu groans.

He can't stop himself, fucking his cock deeper into you with every thrust. The burn is so satisfying, fulfilling your every need and more. You wrap your legs around him, forcing his cock deeper into you.

And with that, you're squirting again. Another rush of cum leaves your body, soaking your boyfriend's lower half. He pulls out momentarily to let it happen, but he fills you back up in no time.

He lets you fully ride out your orgasm on his cock. Your sensitive inner walls tighten and spasm around him as he bullies his cock against your g-spot. He sinks deep into your aching cunt, relishing in the tight squeeze around his cock that soon drives him into his own orgasm.

You sob out in relief when the tension in your stomach is eased. A warm buzz flows down your thighs and your legs shake. The pleasure is so overwhelming you feel lightheaded.

Your mind is so clear, relishing in the pleasure of it all. Mingyu's deep groans bring you back into your senses, allowing you to feel the way he fills you with his load.

Your boyfriend pulls out, mind hazy as some of his cum drips out of you. You lay there on the bed, body completely spent. Your cunt is swollen and throbbing from the absence of touch.

Both of the larger men crowd around your exhausted body, ensuring that you're okay. You let them know honestly that you're fine and they help to clean you up and redress you and themselves in comfortable clothes for the night.

They change the sheets, discarding the ones you so shamelessly soaked. Not many words are exchanged, but a comfortable quiet falls over the room.

You sleep in the middle of the large bed, sandwiched between the two men comfortably.

___________

You're the second to wake up. When your eyes flutter open, your left side is empty. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend sleeping peacefully.

Your head is pounding from the hangover and there's a soreness between your thighs. You look around, seeing Jungkook is standing on the balcony outside your bedroom.

You climb out of bed and open the screen door, coming up behind the tatted man.

"Morning," He says first.

Jungkook stands over the banister with his arms crossed, tattoos on full display with a cigarette wedged between his pointer and middle finger.

"Morning," You greet him back.

You walk over to him, standing by his side. "Cigarettes for breakfast? You know there's food in the kitchen."

The tatted man grins. "I know, bad habit of mine."

He takes a long drag of it, and allows the smoke to pass between his flushed lips. You take the cigarette out of his hand and inhale. "Can't say I'm much better than you though."

He chuckles. "Gyu told me you quit."

You shrug. "Mostly. He doesn't like it, so I don't really smoke around him. Only something I really do when I've got something on mind." You look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Something on your mind?"

You hold your hand out, extending the cigarette back to him. He takes it back and sighs.

"I don't know Shorty, think I might be ready to settle down," Jungkook confesses, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You bump your hip against his playfully. "The Jeon Jungkook? What's gotten into you? I fucked some sense into you?"

Jungkook's jaw slacks open. He lets out a genuine laugh at your comment. "Kind of, Shorty. I'm not gonna lie."

"Really?" You raise an eyebrow.

Jungkook has always been free-spirited. Never really committed to women, always just there for the ride. It was by no means a bad lifestyle, at least the way he went about it. He wasn't the type to hop from bed to bed each night, it was more of an occasional thing. But by no means did he seem to ever want anything real with anyone. For Jungkook everything always seemed so.. temporary.

He'd been in serious relationships before, his longest one lasted nearly 3 years. But even then, he wasn't really fulfilled, never felt satisfied.

Nothing ever felt permanent.

He nods, taking another drag. He hands it to you and exhales. "Last night was pretty fucking crazy I can't lie. But here we are cracking jokes and sharing a cig like it was nothing."

You take a hit, leaning your back against the banister.

"Mingyu's in there asleep without so much as a worry on his mind cuz he trusts you, you know? Like we can keep things cool between us and he doesn't doubt that cuz he's got genuine love and trust. I don't think I've ever felt that way with someone in my life, not enough to do some shit like last night."

You hum in agreement and hand the cigarette back to him.

"I guess I just realized it's actually kind of admirable, more than it is crazy. Got me thinking I can find my own girl I trust and love that much, you know?"

He takes another drag, inhaling and blowing the smoke out of his mouth. He hands it back to you.

"Gotcha, you wanna find a girl just so you can have threesomes with her and her friends," You joke.

Jungkook chuckles, hitting your shoulder playfully. "C'mon Shorty, don't twist my words."

"I'm just fucking with you," you giggle. "But in all seriousness, I get it though. I never imagined doing something like that either, but I know he's the only person I'd be willing to do it with. It's a rare thing in this world, glad I got lucky." You exhale and hand him back the cigarette. "I think you will too."

"Can only hope," Jungkook breathes out.

"You will Kook, just gotta take things seriously," You cock your head to the side and grin. "And when you do, and you marry her, I'm gonna tell Mingyu to mention last night in his best man speech."

Jungkook snorts. "You two are definitely getting married before me, c'mon now. During my best man's speech, I'll sure as hell tell the story and let everyone know you're a squirter."

You punch his tatted arm playfully. "You're the worst!"

"You started it!" Jungkook grins.

"Fair enough," You smile.

"Can't lie it's kind of a great story to tell. You took it like a champ," Jungkook comments.

"My entire family will be at my wedding, don't even think about it," You laugh. "I'm sure they won't appreciate hearing how I quote, 'took it like a champ."

"Fair enough," He grins.

It falls quiet again as the two of you smoke the rest of the cigarette. When it's done, Jungkook kills it on the floor of the balcony. You kick it off to eliminate the evidence.

"C'mon, Mingyu's gonna be up soon and I'm hungry."

You lead Jungkook back into the bedroom, greeting your sleepy boyfriend with a bombard of pillows.

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen angst #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen drabbles #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #kpop #cuffing season #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu smut #mingyu #jeon jungguk

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eloquent-edits · 7 months

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🗡️ “I can assure you, we are just friends.”

definitely not something that’s a little more than friends 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

While Person A is chatting with their friends, Person B sidles up to A and subtly trails a finger up their spine (does A stutter? go completely silent at the electricity going through their body? start to get red but manage to keep their composure? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS)

B begs A to not leave any marks because they just can’t let this secret get out

For that beach episode: A takes off their shirt, exposing scratch marks from a recent session… B hides a sly grin as A is questioned about who they’re with

A is very physically affectionate in general, but has fallen into the habit of only bothering B in public with it

^ A wants to interact with B in many ways and just ends up biting their arm jokingly to satiate that desire (yes, their friends think this is weird)

B needs to be held accountable for finishing their work, so A comes over to hang out… they do not get work done for a while

At a party, B can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when they spot A flirting with someone

A’s childhood friend is in town and A is super excited to have them meet B (B is quietly panicking over making a good impression and wondering what A has said about them)

A and B are in the same anatomy class and they spend a lot of time studying together (A is most certainly a hands-on learner hehehehe)

“Is that B’s shirt?” “What? Oh, uh, yes… My shirt got dirty the last time I was over there so they’re washing mine for me.”

“Is that A’s shirt?” “Yes. What about it?” “…Does A know you have their shirt?” “Nope!”

They really only planned on the midnight rendezvous, not falling asleep afterwards, so A and B go get morning coffee together (they are both very grumpy but still enjoying each other’s company)

Inside jokes during sexy times bleed into their normal banter, leading to some questionable looks from their friends

A gets a little drunk and B expects them to slip up and expose their true relationship, but instead A is very wholesome and remains steadfast on their boundaries; B is so proud of them for this

B is desperately trying to get something off their mind, so A offers a distraction for the night… it’s Mario Kart and whoever loses owes the other a favor

Any of their plans to go out have to include wiggle room in case they get preoccupied (soon it’s not just B that’s always late to events)

While their friends are occupied in another room, A and B intertwine their bodies and try to stay quiet—key word here is TRY

“I bet A would really like [insert kink here]…” “Nah, they’re not really into that.” “How the fuck do you know that?”

All their friends take the BDSM test as a joke and A and B secretly take notes on what the other person likes/dislikes to make the benefits side better

If given the choice, A will always pick the seat next to B so they can tease them under the table

During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)

Whenever B cracks yet another terrible joke, A has to refrain from kissing it off their face

A and B take a break from the benefits whenever one of them wants to pursue someone else (your characters can have healthy boundaries and communication!!! I am BEGGING y’all to write characters that actually communicate with each other)

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harmoonix · 1 year

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🌃⚡Stormy Astrology Notes⚡🌃

⚡ - Moon aspecting Mars can end up with anger issues, is because sometimes they know how to control their emotions and sometimes they don't

⚡ - Mercury in Sagittarius/Gemini might have a different way of expressing their words and the way they communicate might be also different than others

⚡ - Neptune aspecting Moon gives beautiful eyes and face features, definitely i think of angelic placements

⚡ - Natives with heavy Aquarius or 11th house placements are THE BIGGEST defenders of their friends, they won't let you to talk bad about their friends

⚡ - Heavy Taurus or Cancer placements can possess cooking talents or they just may like to cook and try different types of food

⚡ - Moon prominent in a chart makes the native sensbile, spiritual and magic, they have a mix of everything honestly because of their imense intuition and power

⚡ - Asteroid Devine (3561) in the 7th house can have a blessed relationship and the type of "I wish to have this type of relationship just like they have"

⚡ - Asteroid Pandora (55) aspecting Ascendant can be seen as someone who is always curious and looking for things to do, their curiosity might be too much sometimes

My reaction: 😍😍

⚡ - Mercury aspecting Moon or Venus are AMAZING artistically people, they are extremely talented in arts, acting, music painting etc..

⚡ - Lilith in Virgo/6H house is not an easy placements but is definitely not for the weak because Virgo who is the (Virgin) meets Lilith who is like the baddie who does naughty things and in this placement Lilith can embody both dark and light energy

⚡ - Lilith in Gemini/3rd house have kinks to love and hear their partners moaning or calling their names during breaking bed time, they love this

⚡ - Lilith in Cancer/4th house might be obsessed with their partners chest, or muscles they just habe this secret addiction to chest and muscles

⚡ - Aries Mars/Scorpio Mars and Sagittarius Mars are no joke when it comes to breaking bed time, they are REALLY into it without stopping...all day all night 🌃

⚡ - An UNDERATTED thing about Lilith - Sun aspects is that they love the dark aesthetic, dark movies, dark books, dark clothes everything basically who has this Darcie/Villain type of energy

⚡ - Asteroid Lilith (1181) aspecting Ascendant can't help it to make other people fall over them, they are always in someone's eyes and in someone's else heart

⚡ - Gemini in the 5th house/Gemini Venus may have multiple crushes or can end up as a love triangle between them..Yes I know this is not K-drama material but can feel like it

⚡ - You tell me you have Aquarius Venus or Aquarius Juno and your friends didn't fall for you?That's an rare event because people with these placements often end up with their friends falling for them or vice versa

⚡ - Hekate (100) - aspecting Ascendant is extremely spiritual gifted, and also embodying Hekate's energy, i love people with such placements..it always makes me think to Hekate putting them in the right path

⚡ - Hekate (100) aspecting Moon could have been a witch or having some business with sorcery in a past life because moon can repsent past life topics

⚡ - Having 11°, 23° degrees in your (Sun, Moon, Rising) can show gaming addiction, they might have a passion for gaming or playing games in general

⚡ - Having 4°, 16°, 28° degrees in your (Sun, Moon or Rising) can show an aesthetic related to sky/stars/celestials/ and even astrology they can love astronomy and study it

⚡ - Having 6°, 18° degrees in your (Sun, Moon or Rising) shows that you prioritize your health a lot, you like to keep yourself healthy and in good form and always trying to keep an balance

⚡ - Virgos and their obsession with cleaning is something else, if they find even a little crumb on the floor, they would clean it until their floor shines

⚡ - Libra/Taurus in Sun. Moon, Rising is the IT placement for being the "lover girl" kind of thing. Love is their thing since they are the being kids of Venus

⚡ - Nothing is as juicy as someone with Capricorn and Scorpio placements in their chart, they are the juiciest people you will ever met

⚡ - Psyche (16) - or Vesta (4) in water signs... How does it feel be a starchild?? Is honestly intense and beautiful, they were always giving this type of "I'm not from this world im just visiting"

⚡ - Neptune can repsent addiction aswell so people with a heavy Neptune in their chart may have different addictions to different things

⚡ - Pluto aspecting Mars placements are on the list of being the naughtiest people...Life can always get crazy if you have these aspects in your chart

⚡ - Air Placements really love the cloudy weather...well it kinda makes sense because they are represented by the air element but I mean the vibe this cloudy weather brings them

⚡ - Having 5°, 17°, or 29° degrees in your Sun, Moon or Rising gives that type of person who is always in the spotlight, they receive a good amount of attention and it can be anytime of it. Like people staring at you because they are curious or interested in you

⚡ - Not me discovering at 3 A.M that having Chiron in the 2nd, 4th, 8th and 12th houses just means you inherited pain 😭 like you have to carry some pain but that is coming from other people not you #staystrong

⚡ - Moon in Sagittarius/9th house can be really outgoing if you give them that chance, like you can see them dancing in the middle of the floor on some Nicki Minaj songs and you'd be still wondering if they are drunk on is just their personality (Applies if you have Moon in Sagittarius Degrees 9°. 21°)

⚡- Having 2°, 14°, 26° degrees in your Sun, Moon or Rising makes you so charming and lovely, this is truly someone who is beautiful inside and out and shares a good energy to people

⚡ - Girlie be having Pluto/Saturn in the 11th house and has either that type of friends who betray them either their friends become a lesson for them 😭

My reaction:

⚡ - Saturn in the 6th house/12th house natives be getting tried so fast, is like the energy goes out of them in the moment they wake up 😭😭

⚡ - People with the sister signs in their chart and either get along or hate eachother forever, for example: 2 Cancer Risings can like eachother and it can happen for 2 Virgo Risings to hate eachother

⚡ - Is very important for natives with Neptune in the 1st house or Neptune aspecting ascendant to be around good and positive people, because if they are around bad people these natives can get really easy influenced by others so please take care of your surroundings

⚡ - "I think I'll miss you forever" gives Pluto - Venus aspects and it's so true because those natives love the deepest

⚡ - Storms are magnificent and dangerous in the same time, especially seeing it at night, it's wonderful how mother nature wants to show the world how amazing she is ⚡

⚡- Hope you enjoyed the post, may your day be with a good vibe and light energy 🌃

H a r m ⚡ o o n i x

Harmoonix2023®

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