#first is a kinky little fucker that i release in most of my fics
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gn!reader x top!gaz
Soft, loving sex with Gaz - not after a difficult mission, not because someone said something that pissed either of you off; simply because you both wanted to.
It's not tearful or desperate or longing. It's calming and comforting, your bodies as physically close as possible. Warm skin on warm skin.
You're kissing him but it's delicate, tender; each touch of your lips together is passionate yet not messy, eyes flickered closed peacefully.
He's above you, and still you wouldn't feel overpowered even for a second. You're holding him up just as much as he's supporting his own weight, laying on top of you but not in a way to pin you down.
Your hands run along his body, memorising each new crevice and scar under your fingertips, your prints reciting the ones you already know. He caresses your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, gentle and adoring.
Light conversation in whispers, telling each other you love them, quiet groans and hitched breath from both you and him as he fucks you slowly.
You curl up together afterwards, putting on a DVD and falling asleep to it, cuddled in a fluffy blanket, legs entwined and heads resting on each other's.
#my asexuality has three personalities#first is a kinky little fucker that i release in most of my fics#second is this fella here who want soft loving shit bc so does irl me#third is the one that connects with trauma and wants to get halfway through sex then stop and just get comfort instead#might let the third one roam around my fic writing at some point idk#(i will force it to appear in the form of simon riley)#kyle gaz garrick#cw smut#gaz x reader#gaz x gn!reader#x gn!reader#x bottom reader#bottom reader
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Asks for a Fic Writer!
Tagged by @eemamminy-art and @nateharmonica thank you!!
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1. how many works do you have on AO3?
138! Which is weird cos it feels like only 2 minutes ago I was excited about hitting 100 lol
2. what's your total AO3 word count?
401,149 total
3. what fandoms do you write for?
My top 5 written for fandoms are FFXIV (27), Resident Evil (26), FFXII (15), inFamous (13) and FFXV (13)! But I have a load of others as well - atm it's Baldur's Gate 3, alternated with my perennial beloved FFXII
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
Point of No Return - Resident Evil, Chris/Wesker, time travel fix-it fic
Aphrodisiac - Overwatch, Reaper/Soldier 76, collaring and gloves kink
Like a Drug - Resident Evil, Chris/Wesker, STARS era drug bust
Filters - FFXV, Prompto/Ignis, 5 things fic about Prompto's photo taking
Between Death and Ascension - Magnus Archives, Jon/Gerry, post season 3 fix it that got immediately jossed upon s4 releasing lol. Honestly I'm amazed this one is here, considering Jon/Gerry is a bit of a rarepair. Or at least, it was back then!! I have no idea of the current state of TMA fandom (and don't wanna know, ugh lmao)
5. do you respond to comments?
Always as a rule, but usually quite a long time after I get them lksgfg
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Has to be From the Flames of the Fire, I Feel You, part 4 of my Sartauvoir/Basch series, because it's the fic where Basch dies at the end, and it finishes off with a notice from Noah about the death and funeral arrangements. I cried on my lunch break at work writing this fucker lmao
8. do you get hate on fics?
I've not had anything since my ffn days, where I got a very mean comment about OOC. I mean, it was true, but MAN.
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
It's very rare that I don't write smut! I think the yuletide fic I wrote was the first time in years lol. Either way, I like to write kinky porn with feelings and character study shit
10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?
Not any more, but the craziest crossover with the most specific-ass audience was a British Comedy RPF crossed with FFX, where David Mitchell is a summoner and Charlie Brooker and Robert Webb are his guardians. It's called Spira Infinita, and I never did end up finishing it lmao. Oops. Either way, I had a blast writing it and I still think it was fucking good, all 9 kudos of it!! God... this just made me remember I also wrote a brooker/mitchell crossover with mgs. I was on some shit back then I tell you what
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I'm aware of! I'm not big enough for that, I think
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
I thiiiink someone once asked me, but I forgot which fic it was tbh!
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes!! I co-wrote one of my fave Ashe/Basch/Vossler fics with my friend when we got assigned each other for an ff_land exchange - Five Moments of Desire. It was really fun, we had a great time!
14. what's your all-time favourite ship?
GOD this is hard!!! I think Nero/Credo tbh, I never get tired of thinking about them, even as sadly underrated as they are. Also Sartauvoir/Basch is highly up there, I've never been seized with such an insane streak of inspiration for a ship. They got me in their clutches and no mistake!!
15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I don't actually have much in the way of wips, but I do have 5k of a Sart/Basch AU where Sart channels his fenex summoning to bring Basch back to life, but it stalled a little due to a combo of scheduling for other things, other ships taking over my brain for a bit, and honestly the general lack of fandom for them? I have a few close friends I met because of the ship, but getting such low response to things is really demoralising and makes it hard to continue. I DO want to finish it for sure, but atm I am too gripped by other ships so idk if it'll happen.
16. what are your writing strengths?
I think dialogue for sure, and characterisation.
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
Fight scenes x_x Which is annoying, because I love them and have a lot of sparring/fighting related kinks!!! I persevere, but I hate every moment of writing them lol
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Uhh nothing I've ever done! I think it'd be fine if you're fluent in that language OR if you have a trusted friend who is, who can give you actual sense-making sentences, but otherwise, do not!
19. first fandom you wrote for?
Baby's first fandom was handwritten Redwall/Discworld crossover in reporter's notebooks as a very young child, but my first fandom-fandom was ffvii, where I wrote a frankly terrible Reno/Vincent fic! And idek why cos I don't ship it at all? I think I just had a boner for both of them and wanted to get it out. It is still on ffn alas, but eugh.
20. favourite fic you've written?
Honestly I think it's my SartBasch series, Body Politics. It caters directly to my own id, and I think it's really good! I actually planned it out as a cohesive series AND actually finished writing it! Proud of myself lol. And I just.... *clenches fist* love those old men.....
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tagging people, if u wanna do this, then consider urself tagged!!
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indulge.
pairing — hwang hyunjin x genderneutral! reader
genre — smut; dirty talk, masturbation, choking, praise kink, master kink, hand kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hard dom!hyunjin
synopsis — after avoiding hyunjin for weeks because you got off whilst imagining his face, he’s making it clear that you haven’t been the most subtle one when staring at him. alternatively, 5.5k words of hyunjin being a cocky little fucker.
note — today marks the one month anniversary of this tragedy of a blog, so here’s my gift to you all thank you for supporting me <3 please enjoy this pwp monster! i tried to make the reader genderneutral since the original request used they/them pronouns and fuck it was a challenge and idk if it’ll ever do that again. (writing porn without using the words dick or clit or good boy/girl when referring to the reader is hard i dare you and i cringed writing this out kms) in any case, the reader is a bottom in this fic!
Having a crush on your friend’s bandmate is one thing. Being attracted to said bandmate to the point where your underwear grows damp just by looking at him (in real life and on the internet) is something entirely worse.
It’s in the middle of the night when you wake up with your heart pounding against your chest and sweat trickling down your back beneath the loose t-shirt. Your wet dreams have been appearing a fuck times too often and feature the same person over and over again to your dismay. You’re lucky you’re the only one in the house over the weekend because you don’t necessarily want your moaning at 3 AM to be the main topic during breakfast.
Hoping to cool down while recalling the many times Minho has complained about one of his cats pissing on the couch isn’t working this time. In retrospect, thinking about Minho’s weird cat antics in an attempt to get out of the mood has never been completely effective for the past three months. Sure, picturing your best friend ranting with his mouth full of half-chewed Cheetos and getting some crumbs on your lap is a definite turn-off, but the needy wish of getting dicked by a particular bandmate of his still lingers.
It’s been three months since you realized that the horny part of your brain has stopped projecting different guys out of your mental archive of masturbation-material faces. Instead, it casts one incredibly handsome — he’s so handsome he should be illegal at this point, you decide — person in your mind. Every. Fucking. Time.
You’ve been trying to erase him out of your head, but perhaps it wasn’t your brightest idea when you tried searching for a new figure to replace him with a clear vision in mind. It took you approximately two weeks to realize that you were looking for someone with long and nimble fingers and plump lips and just everything that Hwang Hyunjin is.
Because of knowing that fucker named Hyunjin in person, you haven’t had any sexual release for the past three months. Again, it’s one thing to have a crush on your friend’s bandmate, but it’s a completely different thing when you get off on said bandmate and then have to face him every week and pretend like nothing’s wrong. You’re bound to see him at least once a week because Minho always forces you to be the judge of the group’s new choreography because it’s, quote Minho, “crucial to getting the opinion from an outsider.” And that although he knows you’re far from a dancer. (You’ve taken one single dance class because he hauled your ass to his studio before he became a trainee and ever since, you haven’t stepped a foot into the dance studio.)
You see Hyunjin more often than compared to the remaining members of the group. Because of fucking course, he’s part of the dance line and also contributes into making the choreography, so it shouldn’t be so surprising that he’s started to act comfortably around you. To your horror, him acting comfortably also includes being touchy. That being said, he’s developed a habit of throwing an arm around your shoulder or pinching your cheeks to spite you alongside Minho. It’s only a matter of time until you have no other choice but to give in because Hyunjin is getting more casual by the day. Then again, you’re holding off because you don’t want to have a bad conscience and—
Fuck it.
You hesitantly bunch your blanket to the side and slip a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear, shuddering at the slightest pressure and opening your mouth to let out a silent gasp. Fucking hell, three months of no touching has made you so sensitive. You try to take it slow, carefully ghosting around your weak spots as you graze your other hand over the inside of your thighs, a mewl leaving your mouth.
A wet patch has formed in your underwear and you’re leaking so much that it’s enough to coat two fingers in slick. By then, your body has switched to autopilot and before you can process it, a finger prods at your entrance and that’s when you realize there’s no use in beginning slowly but surely.
You pump your finger in and out of you at a slower pace and your body’s reacting to it astoundingly sensitive to your ministrations. Your hips buck up into the air in the hopes of more friction and muffled curses fly out of your mouth without intervention. All sense of reason flies out the window when you curl your finger and graze your sweet spot. At this point, you’re already imagining it’s Hyunjin’s finger teasing you, Hyunjin watching your squirming form with hungry eyes and knowing that you’re at the brink of begging him to hit your spot.
Once you’re fixated on Hyunjin, you don’t hold back any longer. You get rid of your underwear completely and then slip a second finger in, whimpering at the stretch. It’s been so long, way too long of having last felt this way and when you start scissoring your fingers, you can’t help but bring “Hyunjin, f-fuck,” past your lips. Why the fuck did you sentence yourself to a masturbating-to-Hyunjn prohibition in the first place? It feels so much better now that Hyunjin’s name spills out of your mouth like a prayer.
With every passing second, your movements grow more frantic. The sound of skin slapping and slick squelching in you and your ragged breath resound within your four walls. The bed starts to creak a little, the blanket has somehow found its way to the cold floor and all you can think about is an imaginary Hyunjin fingering you in a moderate tempo and reminding you how wet you are for him and how well you’re doing.
Your imagination is running wild to the point of no return. You’re imagining Hyunjin’s forehead covered in sweat as he fucks you over with his hands, imagining his bangs falling above his eyes, imagining his tongue hungrily running over his plump, pink lips as he stares down at you. He’d smile amusedly at your whines, would coo about how much he loves hearing you so vocal and then mark you up in purple bruises. As much as he’d want to let everyone see the hickeys he planted on you, he’d know better and settle for your thighs, forcing you to keep them spread out for him. And even then, you wouldn’t be allowed to cum unless he gives you the green light.
“P-please, Hyunjin—” you whimper as you sense your high approaching and your fingers speed up. The sensation is becoming too much to handle, the idea of Hyunjin looking down at your with a coy smile and mumbling profanities as he rams his long, slender fingers into you and abuses your spot without a break. You’re not entirely sure what he’d say, but you’re sure that whatever it is, it’s downright filthy and sexy and affecting you more than he’d initially expect.
“Please, Hyunjin, I’m gonna… f-fu-u-uuck… I’m gonna—”
Hyunjin is a cocky little fucker who thrives on control, so he’d pull out and grin at you wickedly, continuing to leave marks on your thighs and restraining your hands from touching yourself. Your cry comes out louder than intended as you do so and you keep your legs spread apart, breath hitching as the cool air hits you bare.
Hyunjin is a kinky piece of shit who loves power. He’s also pretty damn aware of how nice and big his hands are, and you can’t help but want the feeling of his hand wrapped around your neck and his fingers in your mouth. He’d be so fucking smug, waiting for you to get teary-eyed and thrash around pathetically before he lets you indulge.
“I’ll be good for you, just— please—” your voice cracks towards the end and you turn your head to the side to bury your face into the pillow, muffling out your moans when you slowly finger yourself again, trembling legs still spread apart. “Fuck, Hyunjin, please let me cum!”
“Mmh, cum for me,” you imagine him rasping between low groans, a smug smirk etched on his face. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”
You pick up your pace, fingers drilling into you in an abusing manner and your body jolts up. You’re too far gone to control your voice, high-pitched moans and sobs and broken cries of his name bounce off the not-so soundproof walls, but holy fuck, you needed this so badly. Although Hyunjin would bathe in your sounds, his superiority kink would be fed even more once he shoves down his free fingers in your mouth and burns your tear-stained face in the back of his mind. That’s definitely something he’d do, so you shove three fingers into your mouth, imagining they were his. You whine at the thought of him tapping your tongue, a silent order to suck.
When you cum, it’s with a broken sob and Hyunjin’s satisfied grin in mind. Your body is trembling from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, mind hazy from the excessive stimulation. Three months of sexual frustration, you’re riding out three months worth of sexual frustration, so you don’t give a fuck about the drool running down your chin, tears staining your cheeks or the fact that your bedding is now sticky in cum and sweat. As you slowly come down from your high, you wipe off your hand on your shirt and try to catch your breath, eyes staring at the ceiling.
Well, you’re fucked. You finally committed the sin of masturbating to Hyunjin. You’re still basking in your moment of bliss and thus, you don’t care about the aftermath for now. But tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow you’ll regret what you just did. You just hope the regret won’t follow you strongly for the rest of your life.
Four weeks later and you’re still regretting it.
Nothing has changed so far; Minho still spams your inbox when you’re not yet in the practice room to review a choreography even though you still have ten minutes to get there, and Hyunjin still casually throws an arm around your shoulder and buries his face into the crook of your neck when he’s exhausted and not too sweaty.
Nothing has changed so far except that so much has changed.
Obviously, you can’t avoid Hyunjin like the plague — even though that idea sounds fucking genius — but you’re trying to keep a distance from him. You’ve started avoiding his gaze, giving curt answers when he asks you if anything is wrong (“Why should it be? Everything’s peachy!” God Gracious, who the fuck uses the word peachy?) and always find an excuse to run away when you sense that he’s about to start a longer conversation (“Did you hear that? I should go help Felix!”).
You arrive at the practice room ten minutes later than usual due to the traffic jam and immediately slip out of your new shoes once the door slams shut. Fucking hell, you really should’ve worn those out first. “Minho, don’t even dare to bitch around, my feet hurt and it’s currently rush hour and the last thing I need is you breathing down my…” your voice trails off when you look up and only see Hyunjin raising a brow at you.
Oh. Fuck.
“Where are Minho and Felix?” you ask, realizing that you two are the only ones in the room. You try not to stare too much at his defined arms or plump lips or just the fact that he’s dressed in loose pants and a sleeveless shirt.
“Hello to you too,” Hyunjin scowls and walks towards your direction to put his half-empty water bottle back on the table. “Chan is treating them to hotpot. Well, he invited all of us but I really need to perfect this move, so I passed.”
“So that’s why Minho didn’t send me twenty voicemails today for being late, huh. And I can’t believe you passed on free food. Anyway—” you attempt to quickly slip your feet back into your uncomfortable sneakers. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, I’ll get going then—”
Before you know it, Hyunjin grips your wrist forcefully and cuts you off with a pout. “I still need someone to review my dance, though. Don’t you wanna keep me company?”
You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine and blink slowly. “Uh, you do know that I have no fucking clue about dancing.”
“(y/n), that’s not an answer to my question. Am I really that unbearable?”
“What? Of course not! I just don’t see how much of a help I can be here.”
His pout morphs into a smug smile. It’s as if he knows, but you can’t quite decipher what exactly. The grip on your wrist tightens to the point where you should be worried about your blood circulation but instead, you’re enjoying the long, calloused fingers on your skin.
“Then let me ask you something else. Do I ever cross your mind?” Hyunjin’s tone is light and melodic, but the underlying catch is hard to miss. You gulp, suddenly wanting Minho to appear out of nowhere and begin his speech about why the fuck cats deserve rights and are superior to the human race. The sudden mood shift grows insufferable as you slowly try to pull away. However, Hyunjin is persistent and never lets go and invades your personal bubble. That’s when you find your voice again. It’s small and shaky but it’s something.
“Hyunjin, you’re not making any sense—”
“Do you think about me? Dream about me?” you pale at the accusation. He knows. The smile on his face widens in victory. “Bingo.”
And just like that, he pushes you against the door before letting go of you. Now, you could run out of the room, the door handle is just a few inches away, but Hyunjin is strong and fast and there’s no way that you’d succeed in escaping. Not knowing what else to do without feeling as if you want the ground to swallow you whole, you just stand stiffly. Hyunjin laughs through his nose and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“C’mon, we both saw this coming.”
“Really?” you squeak, trembling at his presence. If only he leaned into you a little more, you’d feel his breath prickling your skin. “I-I mean, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really,” he sighs and then slams a hand against the door, right next to your face, the impact so loud that your body jolts. “Then please explain why you’ve been avoiding me as if I were carrying a contagious disease but then proceed to eye-fuck me when I turn my back to you. I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me and honestly, it’s so cute but also so, so naive of you to think that I’m blind. You do know that this room is full of mirrors, right?”
Your eyes widen in fear. “W-what are you trying to say?”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m intrigued by you. No, scrap that — I want you. I want to tear you apart. I want you to scream my name. I want you crying as you take my cock up to the hilt. I want a lot of things, so much more than you can imagine, but that’s not the point. Remember, I asked you a question: do I ever cross your mind?”
He reaches for your chin with his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. Albeit firm, his grip isn’t too harsh so that you can nod in response.
“Obviously,” he says casually, “I wanna know more though. Give me the gory details.”
You inhale sharply. Fucking hell. No. No. No. It’s already embarrassing enough that Hyunjin has noticed you mentally undressing him the entire time and you’re not going down the rabbit hole of “telling him all of the kinky shit you’ve imagined him do to you and potentially making your fantasies come true”.
Hyunjin makes a sad face, but his voice just drips in shameless glee. “I guess I’ll have to force you then. Didn’t peg you as a brat, but I can work with that too.”
“I’m not a—”
Before you finish wording out your complete thought, Hyunjin grabs you by the collar and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and devoid of care or emotion, but it leaves you boiling hot and dizzy. Hyunjin knows no boundaries and slings one arm around your waist to draw you closer to him, the other hand resting at the back of your neck. He’s kissing you feverishly like a man starved, forces his tongue into your mouth and doesn’t give you any chance to pull away and breathe. Meanwhile, your hands find their way to his head and tug on strands of pitch-black hair. It’s a weak attempt to break off the kiss, but it just elicits a groan out of the back of his throat.
When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. Catching your breath, you somehow manage to stumble all the way to the back of the room. Hyunjin pushes you onto the semi-comfortable couch before he starts to kiss you again, breaking it off once to discard his shirt. At the sight of his defined abs (you’re finally seeing them in person and not in shitty LQ pictures that a fan took during a concert, thank you God), you suppress the need to run your hands over them.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” he rasps with a grin before he latches for another uncoordinated liplock. Saliva is dripping down from the corner of your lips, but neither of you seems to care.
Eventually, his hands start to roam your body, undoing the buttons of your shirt before sliding it off your shoulders and throwing it into a corner. He detaches his lips from you and before you can complain, he leans down to suck on the patch of skin below your collarbone. A shaky moan escapes your mouth and you throw your head back, whimpering when he begins to bite. Perhaps you got that partially right. Hyunjin loves to mark, just in dangerous areas to your dismay. One slip up and people are going to see the bruises.
His hands begin to wander lower and lower. They’re halfway undoing the zipper when you sob at the faintest amount of pressure and weep, “Stop stop, Hyunjin— stop!”
He stops in his tracks and looks up at you, clearly impatient. “What?”
“I’m, u-uh, I’m really sensitive, okay?” you feel the blood rush to your cheeks when you say it out loud. “I haven’t got dicked in a while and also haven’t been, uh, touching myself, so uh…”
“Why the fuck not?”
“B-because the last time I touched myself, I’ve been thinking about you!”
“So you got off on… me?”
Hyunjin looks so fucking smug, so satisfied, and you’re pretty damn sure it’s not a trick of the light and his eyes really turned a shade darker. Yeah, that superiority kink? You were right on that, he definitely loves to bask in power.
“Yes, I did. Happy? As I was saying, I’m really fucking sensitive right now, especially my thighs, so don’t—” Hyunjin quickly zips down the rest, applying pressure in all the right places and when he strips off the jeans, he makes sure that his knuckles graze your inner thighs, “d-don’t do shit like this— oh f-fuck, Hyunjin!”
“Yeah, I don’t fucking care.” he shrugs and your pants to God knows where. “By the way, I cut you off before. What did you want to say? You’re not a…?”
“I’m not a brat.”
“You sure do act like one,” he says and adds after a moment of contemplation, “Tell you this. You tell me exactly what you imagined me to do when you touched yourself and I’ll see for myself if you’re really not a brat.”
“What?”
“I wanna know what you want me to do to you. You wanna be good for me, don’t you? Then tell me.”
“You were… I— wait, someone might come in—”
“The practice room is booked for us for another hour. Now go on, I’m listening.”
You squirm when his fingers ghost over the inside of your thighs. Any attempts to move away prove themselves futile as Hyunjin plants you onto the couch with his free hand on your hip. “You had— hhhh. o-oh fuck— your fingers in my mouth, told me to suck and— a-aaa-ah— fingered me then…”
He hums appreciatively before releasing the grip on your hip and violently shoving three fingers into your mouth. His fingers are longer than you expected and you close your eyes in bliss as you earnestly suck on them. Eventually, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, tempo getting faster with every movement and you almost gag when he reaches further into your mouth than you ever could with your own. “Baby, you should see yourself. You look so pretty like this.”
When you moan around his fingers, he snickers. “Do you like it when I praise you? We haven’t even started and you’re already doing so well.”
The disappointment you feel when he pulls out is quickly replaced by even greater pleasure when he presses his thumb directly over the wet patch on your underwear. Hyunjin’s not even applying a lot of pressure, but you’re already at the brink of screaming. “So sensitive for me. Fuck, that’s so hot. So sensitive for me and only me,” he hisses while pulling your panties down.
The direct contact of his spit-covered finger just grazing your entrance sends you into overdrive. Even you yourself didn’t expect to be this hypersensitive to everything he does. You’re growing more vocal by the second and slap an arm in front of your mouth to muffle your sounds. However, he’s not having it and chastises, “Stop that. I want to hear your voice. Don’t hold back.”
You shiver at the authority in his tone and before your brain fully processed it, both of your hands are gripping the armrest as if it were your lifeline, the moans coming out of your mouth unfiltered. Hyunjin smirks. “That’s it, baby. Moan louder for me so that everyone in this building could hear you if the walls weren’t fucking soundproof.”
“Hyunjin, don’t tease me, please!” you shake violently, craving more than what he’s currently giving you. His little touches are too much yet not enough at the same time. Partly frustrated and partly needy, your sobs grow more uncontrolled and tears are already forming in your glassy eyes.
But no, Hyunjin is a cocky little shit who loves the sight of you struggling.
“Hm? But I like seeing you squirm like this. How long is it going to take until you start crying properly?”
“I knew it! I knew you’d be like this!” you cry accusingly, “I can’t, I can’t.”
“Why don’t you do anything against it, then? You’re holding back, it’s cute.”
“Because I— fuck, fu-u-uuck, s-stop it— wanna be good for you. I won’t misbehave, please master, allow me to cum—”
“What did you just call me?” Hyunjin is suddenly tense, stops with his ministrations and stares at you wide-eyed. You mirror his movements, just as perplexed by your words. You didn’t even mean it intentionally, it just slipped out. Sure, you knew that he had that superiority domination kink going on, but did he really enjoy being addressed as— “Say it again.”
You lick your lips and watch him closely. “Let me come, master.”
Hyunjin shudders visibly and the groan that escapes his mouth is raspy and deep and liquid sin. “Since you’re so good for me…” you yelp when he suddenly inserts two fingers into you, and fingers you in a rapid speed. It takes him roughly five thrusts until he finds your weak spot before he repeatedly pumps in and out in the same angle, emitting a sob from your side. “Is there anything else you imagined master doing to you?”
“Hands around… a-aa-ah shit— around my…” Hyunjin raises a brow when you reach out for his free hand and sloppily guide him to your throat. Stars fill your vision as he understands and wraps his fingers around your neck, the missing feeling of air making you light-headed. You weep out a silent cry when he moves his fingers even faster and applies slightly more pressure on your throat.
“Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your neck. What’s next? You want me to gag you with my fingers? Pull your hair when I’m fucking your mouth? Run my hands all over your body as you get yourself off on my thigh? You seem to be really fixated on my hands.”
Hyunjin’s words send you jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body. You don’t even register the intent behind what he says, too focused on all the other sensations. At this point you’re too far gone to keep holding onto any thread of rationality; the tears are gradually streaming down, your thighs are trembling and it hurts yet it doesn’t, and your orgasm hits you so hard you don’t even process it until your body starts to sting.
While you’re recovering from your high, Hyunjin picks up your cum on his fingers and licks it off thoughtfully, his eyes raking up and down your fingers. And then he asks in a manner way too casual for the situation, “How often can you cum, hm?”
You’re already fucked out by his fingers alone, and if he keeps it up, the answer is not a lot of times. Hell, you’re pretty sure your limit is two, but you answer tiredly with, “As many times as master wants me to.”
Hyunjin seems satisfied with the reply and then he gets up on his feet. Cluelessly, you send him mental question marks until he motions you to get up too. “What are you waiting for? Take my pants off.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You just notice now how constrained Hyunjin is underneath the jeans that hung on his hips. Wanting to free him out of his misery as fast as possible, you quickly unbuckle his belt and work on his zipper with the lightest amount of pressure you can muster. From there on, it doesn’t take long until you’ve pulled the fabric down alongside his boxers, revealing his hard length.
At the sight of his size, the precum pooling around his tip and the girth of his length, your mouth waters. “Can I suck you off?”
“I’d love that, but not today.” Hyunjin chuckles when your face drops and grabs your chin, his voice suddenly sultrier and a few intervals lower when he says, “Don’t look so disappointed. I know you’d do a great job. If I fucked your mouth without warning, you’d still take it, right? You wouldn’t deny an inch of my dick, would you? Even if you started to gag, you wouldn’t complain because you want to be good for master.”
He drops himself on the couch and the corners of his mouth crook upwards. “I just thought of something better. I bet you look so pretty bouncing on my cock.”
“Holy fuck,” you whisper. He’s right, that’s so much better than having his pulsing dick in your mouth. Fuck, you’ve been fantasizing about this for the past months after all. And just like that, he’s serving it all on a silver platter.
“C’mon, make me feel good,” he mumbles impatiently as he guides you onto his lap and pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into the kiss, let him abuse your lips up until they bleed if he fucking insists, before smearing precum all over his throbbing dick. Once he’s all slicked up, you raise yourself and sink on him, hissing uncontrollably once his head prods at your entrance.
Despite having him loosening you up a little before with his fingers, the stretch is so intense that you break the kiss and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You’re not the only one who’s affected this badly, as Hyunjin lets a particularly loud groan. “Fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like you were made for me. Be good for master and take me to the hilt, yeah?”
With that, he grips your hips so tightly that they form bruises, and slams you onto the rest of his dick. You stutter out a cry and more tears stream down your face. Hyunjin doesn’t give you time to adjust and lifts you up until only his head is still buried in you, only to push you down again immediately.
“God, you’re taking me in so well. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?” he demands whilst continuing to manhandle you in this ruthless pace.
“You, master— a-aaa-ah, f-fuck— you’re making me feel this good, master!” you choke out, indulging the rough treatment. “You’re the only one who makes me feel so full!”
Hyunjin groans against you and begins to thrust his hips up into you like a madman. “You’re right, baby, only me huh—” he tugs on your hair with his one hand and kisses you in between your hiccups.
It’s hot, way too hot in here. The sound of skin slapping rings in your ears, as well as Hyunjin’s countless muffled praises. You’re both on edge, orgasm washing over you very soon. It’s prominent in the way Hyunjin’s movements grow more frantically, the way you cling onto him as if he were your saving grace, the way he rasps profanities in your ear.
“Cum for me, baby,” he pants, and it’s the one thrust that he delivers where he’s in you balls-deep and in the right angle that makes you come undone with a loud sob. Hyunjin helps you ride out your high before he pulls out of you completely and his release coats your stomach.
The next few moments are spent in silence, save for the harsh breathing. And then Hyunjin stands up to get a box of tissues next to the speakers and wipes off the cum on his abdomen before cleaning you up. You welcome his actions wholeheartedly, still basking in your post-orgasm bliss. Frankly, every inch of your body hurts and you’re damn sure you won’t be able to feel your legs until the end of the month.
“I’m pretty positive I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say once he’s done cleaning you up as much as he can with simple tissues and is now retrieving all the clothes on the floor.
“It’s what you deserve after putting yourself through your weird sex-deprivation thing,” he jokes and falls on the couch beside you, handing you your clothes and offering his water bottle. “Want some?”
You silently take the bottle and take three generous gulps out of it. “Not today. You said not today when I wanted you to suck you off.”
“I mean, if you’re up for a next time, that is. If yes, then cool. If not, that’s also fine by me.” The way he replies is so casual as if he didn’t get hard from being called master. “Anyway, let me help you get back to your clothes.”
“No cuddles? You are the worst in aftercare.”
“I was thinking of cuddling once we both look a tad more presentable, but go off,” he snorts. Nonetheless, he’s extremely gentle and careful when he helps you slip into your button-up. No words are exchanged all the while except for his soft apologies when you wince in pain because fuck, even lifting your legs hurts.
Hyunjin keeps his word. After fixing your hair to the best extent, he wraps an arm around your waist and you rest your head on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.
“I can’t believe we just fucked in the practice room,” he chuckles weakly. “If this becomes a regular thing, please let’s not do it in the practice room ever again. I work here.”
Of course you want this to be a regular thing. Fucking hell. But you don’t say that just yet. Instead, you opt for: “Well, if this becomes a regular thing, the dorms seem like a pretty sweet—”
“Absolutely not.”
You laugh quietly, but deep down inside you know he really wants to do that but doesn’t want to admit it out loud because Hyunjin’s a kinky little shit. “Whatever you say.”
Still, it’s a lot to process, everything that just happened. It’s so much that it drains you more than it should. Your eyes are starting to feel heavy and you sense yourself falling into a slumber. However, you still catch Hyunjin’s half exasperated, half panicked “don’t you dare fall asleep on me now, at least stay awake until we’re in my car!”
You’re not entirely certain if this is just your mind playing games on you or actual reality, but you like to believe that shortly after his outburst, Hyunjin kisses you fondly on the forehead and softly mumbles, “Whatever. Sleep tight, baby.”
#lulu end a story properly challenge failed i'm bad at this im so sorry idek#stray kids smut#skz smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#dom!hyunjin#sub!reader#smut.mine#hwang.txt#stray kids dark hours
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Charles x Reader- Game On
Request: ‘Hi! Love your smut fic “thanking him”, can you do another kinky smut fic with Charles Xavier please if you have time? 😌’
Warnings: smut (obvs), senses manipulation, kinky telekinesis use
Summary: You’re sick of Charles working late, so you make a bet in order to get him to bed. Little do you know, he’s got a trick (or a couple) up his sleeve...
Trust me, this gif will make a whole lotta sense in a little bit...
Charles was sitting at his desk, pouring over paperwork as he had been for hours. Not to get you wrong, you admired his work ethic, admired it even.
Sometimes you were able to tempt him away with dinner and the promise of something else to eat later on if he was good...
But when he was like this, so completely absorbed and drowning in files, nothing got in between him and that godforsaken desk.
Actually, scratch that. You had a theory. And you really, really wanted to test it.
“Babe, are you sure I can’t get you anything?” You asked for the fifth time. “Water, tea, a massage? You hearing this?! I’m even willing to give you a massage.” You goaded him; anything to get off his ass and away from that desk.
You could see the lines in his forehead carving deeper, his shoulders squared with tension and his hand cramping from all the writing. Even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he was working himself way too hard.
“You go on ahead, sweetheart, I’ll be finished here in a bit.” He barely even looked up from his work, which only added to your frustration.
“Nope, not without you. You’re done for the night.” You were sick of him pushing himself too far, sick of going to bed alone and sick of him crawling next to you in the early hours of the morning, apologising profusely but never actually following through.
“Y/N, I’m almost done, I promise, I just-”
“Nuh-uh. I’ve heard it all before.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accidentally pushing your cleavage above the neckline of your v-neck. This time, when he looked at you, his eyes lingered.
“Sweetheart, you distracting me is only going to keep me here longer.” He muttered, but he didn’t sound very sorry.
“Oh, really?” You drawled and stalked over to his desk. Let’s see how much paperwork he can do if you’re sitting on it.
You planted yourself directly on the file he was working on, and he had to yank his pen back to avoid you sitting on it.
“Y/N...” he cautioned, but his gruff tone only made your lips twitch and your stomach flip. Nonchalantly, you placed your legs on either side of his chair, leaning back onto your hands and staring down at him through your lashes.
“Professor...” you mocked back, to which he cleared his throat and came to rest his hands on your thighs, dangerously close to the edge of your gym shorts.
“As much as I am enjoying this little... display,” he motioned to your spread legs in front of him, “I really need to finish this work.”
“See, you say that,” you teased, inching your legs out further, drawing his eyes directly where you wanted them, “but I don’t know if you really mean it.”
“Neither do I,” he sighed under his breath before silently chastising himself, “No, no, I’m serious. There are pressing matters that-”
“Let’s make a bet.” You cut him off, and immediately his interest was peaked.
“A bet, you say?” He replied slyly, his hands tracing higher, toying with the edge of your shorts.
“Mm, a bet.” You repeated, smirking at him. “I know you’re a sucker for a good competition.”
“And I know you’re a sucker, period.” He quipped back, drawing a laugh out of you both.
“Maybe we could include that in the stakes...” you suggested, and you could see the moment all thoughts of paperwork left his eyes and they focused solely on you. His hands tightened on your thighs and your breath hitched.
“What sort of bet are we talking about, love?” His thumbs began rubbing circles into your flesh, making you shiver. But you didn’t come here to get bent over his desk, as good as that sounded.
No, you came to make him forget all about work, and everything else.
And you knew just how to do it.
You planted a foot in the centre of his chest and pushed his chair backwards, catching him off guard and giving you just enough room to drop to your knees in front of him
“Well, you certainly have a disposition for dramatics.” He chuckled low and throaty, but it cut off with a growl when your hands began snaking up his legs.
“Here’s the deal, Professor,” you began as you grabbed his semi-hard through his pants and watched his eyelids flutter, “I’m gonna make you cum in five minutes. If I do, and I will,” you promised with a wink, “you get out of this chair and get your ass into bed with me.”
“If, and in no offence to your skills, you don’t win?” He questioned as he ran a hand under your jaw and tipped your head to look him in his cerulean eyes.
“You get to stay here, and work for as long as you want,” you admitted, but your sly grin told him that wasn’t all, “but I’m thinking that you’re gonna want to follow me to bed anyway.”
“Interesting,” he nodded, tracing your jaw with soft fingers before gripping it tightly, making you gasp at the sudden pressure, “but I’ll do you one better: if I can make you cum first, which I will,” he echoed your cocky statement, “you do what I want. For a whole day. And I will go to bed with you now.” He added at your raised eyebrows.
“And if you don’t?” You were impatient to hear the answer.
“If you win, and I.. let’s say, loose my cool...first,” He grinned impishly, “then I’ll do whatever you want on a day of your choosing.” You weighed the implications of this, and once you decided the risk was worth the reward you nodded.
“Deal.” His eyes flashed at your response and his fingers inched towards your throat, stroking it softly.
Your stomach flooded with warmth which climbed up your chest, leaving behind a ruddy blush that he noticed immediately and grinned triumphantly.
“Just how are you planning on getting me off when I’m all the way down here? No offence to your skills, of course.” You challenged haughtily.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out love.” He sent you a devilish smirk before releasing your neck and leaning comfortably back into his chair, his eyes flashing at you, full of challenge.
You scoffed, thinking this to be an easy win.
You should have known that with Charles, it’s never an easy win.
Making quick work of his slacks, you pulled both his pants and boxers off and discarded the troublesome clothes behind you.
“Someone’s a bit eager.” He crooned but let out a hiss as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling it stiffen under your grip.
“Charles, I love you, but sometimes I really want to put a gag in you.” You threatened and he chuckled in response.
“Sweetheart, if you win, you can do whatever you want with me.” Motivated by his promise, you licked a stripe from base to tip, watching as he shuddered and gripped the arms of his chair.
“Game on, Professor.” You smirked before engulfing him with your hot, wet mouth. He swore and gripped your hair unforgivingly, his head falling against the back of his chair.
Going to town, you worked a merciless pace, using one hand to massage his balls in just the way you knew he loved, and the other to stroke his thigh.
“God, Y/N, feels so good.” His breath was coming out in short, hard bursts as you kept your unrelenting speed, determined to win this game.
That’s when you felt it.
You didn’t even realise how wet you were until you felt a single finger stroking your most sensitive parts. You moaned and buckled, yanking your head up and glaring at Charles, who smiled innocently at you.
Well, as innocent as anyone could look with their rock hard cock in someone’s mouth.
“Something up, sweetheart?” He questioned, cocking his head, and the phantom finger pushed inside you, torturously slow.
“You telepathic mother fucker.” You swore. You should’ve expected this.
Charles just raised the stakes.
“All’s fair in love and war.” He said unapologetically, sending you a devious smirk before touching fingers to his temple and increasing the pace of the digit inside you, and adding another.
Biting back groans, you gripped his member hard and brought it back to your mouth, letting yourself moan around it and send shivers up his spine. He pulled your hair tighter and let out a litany of curses.
It gave you great pleasure to see what you could reduce the great Charles Xavier to: a writhing mess. He watched you from under half-shut lids, his head tipped back in sheer ecstasy and soft grunts escaping his pink lips, which were open just enough to let puffs of air through them.
But he was giving as good as he was getting.
With each bob of your head, his phantom fingers continued at the same pace. If you speed up, so did he. If you tortured him slowly, his fingers mimicked. It was like you couldn’t get him to the edge without dragging yourself along with him.
He added a third and revelled in the way your eyes rolled back and your movements stopped temporarily.
“That’s it, sweetheart, give in to me.” He rasped, keeping his eyes trained on you and his hand in your hair. His other hand moved to caress your cheeks, which were hollowed against his cock.
You refused to give up, and instead steeled yourself and pushed the waves of pleasure he was creating to the back of your mind, focusing solely on the task ahead:
giving him the best blowjob of his goddamn life.
With renewed vigour, you took him to the hilt with no warning, relaxing your throat and allowing him to deep throat you. His hips bucked, sending him further down your throat as he cursed loudly.
“Fuck, Y/N!” He drew in deep, ragged breaths. You continued to swallow around him, keeping him in your mouth for as long as possible before drawing up for breath, only to take him in once again.
He sped up his phantom fingers, curling them inside you and eliciting a pornographic moan in response.
“If I’m going down,” he grunted, holding your head down until tears sprang at your eyes, “you’re going down with me.”
With that, he placed a fourth finger on your bundle of nerves, circling it with a pressure so good it almost hurt.
You became a moaning mess around his cock but managed to keep at it, taking him deeper every time, your own pleasure distracting you from whatever gag reflex you had left.
His hips bucked even harder, his abs tensing and his eyes fought to stay open as you knew he loved seeing you fall apart.
Your legs began to shake and you weren’t sure how much longer to could stave off your impending orgasm.
But it didn’t matter, as long as he finished first.
“My god, sweetheart.” He gritted his teeth and stroked your stretched out lips with his thumb, “You look so fucked out right now.”
You moaned in response as his phantom fingers continued to work you into a moaning, shaking mess.
“Did I make you like this? Huh? Who did this to you?” The closer he got, the more verbal he became, and the more crass.
He yanked your head off his cock with the hand in your hair and you panted, struggling to catch your breath.
“I wanna hear you say it, Y/N, who did this to you?” He picked up the pace of the fingers inside you when you didn’t respond.
“You! You did, Charles.” You cried out, your body beginning to convulse, your brain screaming at you to just let go.
He grinned in triumph and guided your head back down to his pulsing member, which you eagerly swallowed down.
There was no stopping it now, the pleasure became too much for you and you screamed around his cock as the tsunami of an orgasm hit you.
Your moans reverberated up his cock, and he let out an animalistic growl as your pleasure crashed into him in waves through the telepathic channel he was always logged onto around you. His back arched and his hips stuttered as he spilt down your throat, before pulling your head up and finishing on your face.
Still twitching from your high, you leant your head against his thigh, struggling to catch your breath. You were glad to see he was just as affected, his hand stroking your hair absentmindedly whilst he shuddered through the lingering throes of a mind-blowing orgasm.
You lifted your head to look up at him, and he shuddered again at the sight of you wearing his seed around your lips. He used his thumb to guide it back into your mouth, which you cleaned off happily.
“Careful love,” he rasped as you bit gently on his thumb, “if I wasn’t so spent right now, you’d be in all sorts of trouble.”
You were too tired to reply so you just rolled your eyes before trying to stand up, which worked about as well as having spaghetti for legs, resulting in you collapsing onto his lap where he cradled you close to his rapidly beating heart.
“You’re one of a kind, you know.” He whispered lovingly into your ear.
“Love you, too.” You sighed, nuzzling deeper into his neck.
“If I remember correctly,” he began in a sly tone, “I won.” You groaned in the realisation that yes, he did. “But for now, let’s go to bed.”
You revelled in your temporary victory because you knew it wouldn’t last long.
But as much as you were nervous, you couldn’t wait for him to collect his debt.
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