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yeoandmoon · 3 months
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cowboy take me away ( mingi x reader )
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as the child of a long forgotten freedom fighter, and a long time informant of kim hongjoong, you've been entangled in the bloody history & politics of strickland for as long as you could remember. when an invitation shows up at your door in the form of a familiar gunman, you find yourself grappling with the idea of gaining freedom & love in your harsh world or sticking in the comfort of your shadows.
smut + angst, ateezverse, outlaw!mingi & librarian!reader, afab reader, right person wrong lifetime, mentions of war & corruption, mingi is covered in blood, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, wc is 4.7k
NOTE: takes place almost directly after the events of the bouncy music video ( a whole comeback and a half late, but i think it's what cowboy mingi would want )! this fic was written across 2 provinces, 1 state, 2 continents and 3 countries its a world traveller <3 title is from cowboy take me away by the chicks. if you like this please consider reblogging or leaving a comment / an ask :)
BANG! BANG! BANG!
You hear the banging before anything else. You’re quick to get up, nearly tossing your book to the floor in your haste.
The clock on the stove reads 21:37, and you know exactly who awaits you on the other side of the front door. The news reports of the bombings of The Prestige Academy had been live for nearly three hours, and it was only a matter of time before they came knocking.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Another bang rings out through your apartment, shaking the wooden door and the small ornaments that hung around it - good luck charms, your mother had once told you.
It was silly of you to keep them up. You knew it was silly to still believe the bedtime stories of a broken down revolutionary, and the childhood she wanted so badly for you.
Yet, here they remain - framing your door in an arch of wooden dolls, and nearly forgotten symbols.
Everything you’d witnessed with The Eight; all the history that could’ve been and should have been of your world laid out right in front of you by a scary little man and his little hourglass wasn’t enough for you to pull them down. You told yourself it’d be disrespecting your mother’s memory by doing that.
Hongjoong and his boys made you believe in the stories of your mother, and the world she wanted.
It’s while staring at the smallest doll in the arch that you take another deep breath, and finally steal a glance at the shadows that are casted under the door. You can see the person shuffle in place, almost nervously. 
You know who it is, and what they want from you.
You almost want to be upset by the uninvited visitor. You want to throw the door open, and scream at him; you want to tell him how he ruined your life. You want to tell him how you should’ve called the Guardians when you saw them walk into your library that day; how you regret letting them pull you into this world you watched tear your mother apart.
But - you’re not really upset. The thought of them makes your palms sweat, and your cheeks flush and you don’t want them to go. You want him to come inside and hold you; you want him to stay here, and despite your threats, you could never call the Guardians on him… on any of them. 
You look back up at the small doll that smiles down at you, and try not to let visions of soft pink hair and gummy smiles invade your mind. You try to forget the feeling of rough hands against your skin, and his lips kissing your tummy. You want to push those to the back of your mind, and simply ignore the cowboy on the other side of your door.
BANG!
A final resounding bang rings out, and you finally grip the door handle before ripping the door open.
As if summoned by your inner complaining & contemplation, there is a man in a cowboy hat on the other side of your door. His hat sits low over his face, and a rifle hangs at his side; you could just see the blood splattered on his leathers and his cheek.
You try not to stare at the way the tan vest hugs his toned torso; or how the deep red blood speckles his neck and chest. Your knuckles turn white as they tighten on the doorframe.
Your lips kiss along his neck, while your hands are tight against his hips. You pull him closer to you and revel in the soft whimpers that fall from his swollen lips. His hands are warm, but you know he runs hot and you soak in the warmth.
“Y/N.” His deep voice breaks through the silence, as if slashing a knife through your daydream.
You give him a brief nod, “Mingi.”
There’s a smile growing on the outlaw’s face, “Were you hoping I would leave if you ignored me enough?” Mingi asks, gently pushing you to the side as he steps into your apartment.
You sigh before closing the door behind him, making sure the locks and deadbolts are tight before turning to him. You don’t answer, but your mind continues to linger on his comment and just how wrong it truly is. 
The last thing you want is for him to leave - for him to leave you.
“Hongjoong called you.”
You nod, and your eyes flicker to the drawer where your small burner phone sits in the kitchen. There’s a coded voicemail from Kim Hongjoong in the inbox, and you had listened to it enough times that you could probably recite it for Mingi.
Hongjoong and his boys wanted you to join the revolution - officially. You had been content hiding in the background of it; feeding information to Hongjoong in cryptic messages & sneaky meetings, and then letting them take the credit, but Hongjoong wanted you at the forefront now.
There was a reason, of course. You knew why he wanted you, of all people.
“I’m not my mother, Mingi.” Your voice breaks as you finally look up at the man in front of you.
Mingi looks down at you. His short pink hair is messy under the cowboy hat, and his brows are furrowed in frustration. As you look back at him, all you can think of is the wanted posters plastered through the city center, and how you wish the artists could see the vision you see.
His voice is soft as he finally speaks, “You’ve gotten comfortable, Y/N.” Mingi moves the rifle from his shoulder and onto your kitchen counter, careful to place the barrel and silencer facing the wall.
“You’re comfortable surrounded by your books, and letting Hongjoong take all the credit for your work. You should’ve been there tonight.”
You lean back against the door, right under the arch of dolls as you contemplate Mingi’s words. He’s mirroring you - standing under the arch of your kitchen door, but your apartment is so small that you can just feel the warmth of his body against yours. A part of your mind thinks you’re imagining it, but you know if you were to reach your arm out, you could take the outlaw’s rough hand into your own.
You almost do, too. You begin to reach your hand out when Mingi moves to speak again, “She’d want you to be there, you know.”
His words slam into you like a ton of bricks. Your hand falls back against your side while Mingi’s statement immediately fills your eyes with tears, and the vision of the bloodied man in front of you begins to blur. You look down to hide your tears from him, but you still find yourself nodding in agreement. He’s right. He’s right, and it makes you so angry just how right he is.
“But I don’t want to be there,” You finally say, “It’s not the place for me. I’m not like her. I’m not like Joong. I want what they wanted… what they want, but I’m better off behind you.”
Mingi shuffles closer to you, and his hand moves to hold your wrist. You blink, and tears begin to fall down your cheeks when you feel his nimble fingers against your pulse point. His body gently pushes you back against the front door.
“Would it change anything if I told you: I want you to be there? I want you to be there, right next to us? Next to me?”
When you look up at him, you see his dark brown eyes have softened. His face is still shadowed by the cowboy hat, and you reach your free hand up to gently push the hat off, letting it hit the floor in a soft thud. The warm light of your apartment immediately illuminates Mingi’s harsh features, revealing a sad smile as he meets your teary eyes.
You push his hair out of his face before cupping his cheek, and you revel in the way he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 
“I’ve watched this world tear people apart, Min. I don’t want to watch it break you too.” You tell him, your thumb gently brushing against his cheek, “I don’t want it to break me.”
You felt selfish as the words left your lips. Maybe you were being selfish, but you cared about him too much. You care about him enough that it’s dangerous - for both of you. You both knew your time together was limited and scarce, and soon all the work you’ve both done would finally culminate with Hongjoong’s plans.
Yet, here you stand - wrapped in a bloodied cowboy’s arms, half naked and crying, unsure if this will be the last time you see each other.
“I’m not going to break, Y/N.” His hand maneuvers from your wrist, and onto your bare thigh, just brushing under the hem of the night shirt you have on, “You wouldn’t, either. We wouldn’t let you.”
You stay silent, but you wrap your arms around Mingi’s neck and pull him into a tight hug. Mingi immediately reacts, with his own arms moving to wrap around you and his head falling into your neck. You can feel his lips ghost against your neck while one of your hands moves through his hair, almost holding him in place against you.
There’s things you could say; things you want to say to him (don’t die. come back. i love you.), but you don’t say any of that. Those are foolish thoughts for your situation, and dreams neither of you can afford right now.
Instead, you gently push him away so you can see him, both your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “Does Joong know you’re here?”
Mingi shakes his head, and you notice his own tears beginning to fall down his face. You keep your eyes on him as you nod, while one of your thumbs gently runs over his bottom lip.
“We don’t have much time then?” Your voice is hardly a whisper.
Mingi kisses your thumb before taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers and kissing your palm, “We’re leaving at midnight.” He finally says.
It takes a moment of contemplation before you surge forward in Mingi’s hold, leaning up to capture his lips in a harsh kiss. His arm around your waist tightens its grip before he kisses back, and you feel his other hand drop your own before beginning to move into your hair.
You pull away after a moment, leaning back against the door as you settle in Mingi’s arms. You look up at him - taking in the way his cheeks have blushed, and his pupils are nearly blown out. Your eyes glance over the now-smudged blood on his cheek and neck, and you have to think he’s doing it on purpose. He’d come to you after doing Hongjoong’s dirty work before, bloody & wrecked and he’d always laugh when he saw how wet your panties had become after seeing him like that.
“Take the jacket off, Mingi.” Your voice cuts through the silence you two had created. 
There’s a small smile playing at your lips when Mingi jumps before nodding, unhooking his arm from around you to pull the heavy leather coat off. Your eyes follow it as he unceremoniously drops it on your foyer floor.
His hands move to his vest, and your eyes are quick to follow as he begins slowly unbuttoning the leather.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” You narrow your eyes at him.
Mingi’s cheeky smile and the way his eyes glance up at you confirms all you need to know. You fake a gasp as one of your hands reaches out to grasp his, and you tug him back closer to you.
“You’re a tease,” you tell him as you kiss him again. 
He smiles into the kiss, while one of his hands moves to cradle your head and tilts you to gain easier access to your lips, “Am I?”
You begin to unbutton the remaining buttons on the vest, just as Mingi crowds you back against the door. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the way he deepens the kiss while his thigh moves between your own, pressing up against your soaked core.
You groan at the feeling of his jeans against your clothed pussy, “Am I going to come here?”
Another cheeky smile flashes at you, “I am a tease, aren’t I?” He hums.
Mingi pushes you down against his thigh as he speaks, with his hands holding your hips. The drag of your clit along his thigh rendered you speechless and hot, and you let yourself fall back against the door in your bliss.
You’re standing on your toes as you rock against him when one of his arms hooks around your waist. 
“Go on, baby.” He leans down to kiss your temple, “Use me to make yourself feel good.”
His other hand tugs at the hem of your night shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal your body to him. There’s a hunger in his eyes that makes you feel wanted and sticky, and you can’t help it when your hands move to grasp at the vest to steady yourself. Mingi’s free hand moves to your chest, his fingers gently begin thumbing at your nipple until it hardens. 
You let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, relishing in the way his touch fuels the warmth that grows within you - it’s a warmth that truly only burns for the Gunman, and part of you worries it might never burn for anyone else.
Your hands move into Mingi’s hair when he leans down to take your nipple in his mouth, and the whimpers that come from the man as you tug brings another wave of arousal that goes straight to your core (and the sticky mess that you’re sure are ruining your panties and Mingi’s jeans). You can feel the bulge in his tight jeans each time you rock your hips; it matches the hunger you saw in his eyes as he kissed up your neck, letting your shirt fall back down as one of his hands moved to cup your pussy.
You reach out to palm the bulge in his jeans, and a sleepy grin graces your lips when Mingi lets out a beautiful sound. He groans your name, his free hand gripping your wrist while you push against him.
He pulls your hand away, “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” He tuts.
“You sound pretty.”
Mingi’s thumb pressed into your clit in reply, and the action brought a near scream out of you. Your hips stutter against his hand, and you grip his vest tighter as you begin to lose your balance. Mingi’s hand around your waist moves to pick you up, using the imbalance as an excuse to pull you closer to him.
“Mingi…” Your voice is strained and full of neediness.
He hums into your skin, nipping at your collarbone, “I know, Y/N.”
His thumb presses circles into your clit, and your thighs shake as you wrap your legs around Mingi. Your head falls onto his shoulder as your hips rock into his hand, urging him to move faster and harder.
You kiss him, messy and rough when he brushes his finger over your entrance, pushing you over the edge to your orgasm. You tremble against him, and he kisses away your cries and whimpers, holding you impossibly close in his arms.
Mingi’s thumb slows its movements as you ride out your climax. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you know he’s talking to you, but you can hardly hear him. You can hardly guess what he might even be saying against the quiet of your apartment and the blood rushing in your ears.
“We’re going to bed now, baby.” He whispers to you, kissing your cheek and finally moving away from under the arched doorway.
You laugh into his shoulder, “Are you going to fuck me?”
He doesn’t answer on the short walk to your bedroom, but you don’t need an answer. You know how tonight will go. You always know with Mingi.
Mingi softly drops you onto your bed, untangling your legs from around his waist before quickly beginning to undo his belt. You keep your eyes on him as you pull your soaked panties off, haphazardly kicking them to the floor while you watch Mingi undo his jeans, leaving them open as he turns his attention back to you.
He looks positively wrecked, and all he’s done is made you come. This causes an undeniable high to begin racing through your veins, and the high only grows when you feel Mingi’s fingers dancing along your inner thigh leading right up to your soaked core.
“‘Gonna open you up, baby,” Mingi grunts, while he gently pushes you back against the bed and shoves your legs open so he can comfortably kneel between them, “We gotta make sure I fit, yeah?”
You gasp at the combination of his words and the feeling of his thumb against your clit so soon, but when you glance up, he’s smiling down at you. Your fingers tightened in the sheets and you wanted to curse Mingi. You were so wet from your previous orgasm that you knew you could probably take him with minimal prep - it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before.
But no; Mingi wanted to watch you writhe on the sheets as you took his fingers, nice and slow.
He gripped your thigh as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, and he chuckled when you threw your head back, a moan of his name escaping your lips.
“Min, please,” You bucked your hips up to meet the thrust of his fingers, “Just fuck me!”
Mingi kisses your knee in response, “We got some time,” He hums, but you could hear his voice waver as he adds another finger, and watches you grind yourself against them.
The short walk to your bedroom had hardly been enough time to recover from the orgasm you’d had against the door, and all you could do was soak up the increasing pleasure as you rode Mingi’s fingers. Although your bedroom was usually a quiet spot, it was soon overtaken by the sound of your soft cries and Mingi’s fingers thrusting into your weeping hole.
You let your head push back against the mattress as you whined in frustration and arousal. Your thighs were burning from Mingi holding them open to accommodate his large frame, and all you truly wanted to do was come on his cock.
Maybe you were made to ride his cock, a sneaky part of your arousal corrupted brain squeaked. Usually, you’d push those thoughts out of your mind but right now… You looked up at the man who sat over you. Mingi’s hair was a mess from you tugging on it earlier, with his vest hung open to expose his blood splattered chest and arms to you; leather string necklaces and chains hung from his neck, and it didn’t take long for you to pick out a pendant you had gifted him months earlier. His unbuttoned jeans stretched over his thick thighs, and hung low on his hips, exposing just enough skin that it made your mouth water.
Right now, you had no choice but to agree with the little voice that just maybe, you were made to ride Song Mingi’s cock.
You let out another whine at the revelation, bucking your hips into his hand as you reached for Mingi with a sweaty hand, “Min, I-I need you to fuck me now, please.”
Mingi takes your hand, using it as leverage to pull himself down and crush his lips into yours, “My baby needs my cock?”
His palm grinds against your clit, and the pressure is enough to turn any answer you might have for him into a broken moan. You kiss him harder, squeezing Mingi’s hand tightly in yours as you push your hips up to gain any kind of friction against him.
You wouldn’t even put it past yourself to begin grinding on his thigh wedged between your legs again - like some kind of bitch in heat.
The coil in your lower half begins to burn again, timing itself with the harsh thrusts of Mingi’s fingers and the way he kisses you, hard & unforgiving. When you move out of the kiss to place soft kisses and bites along his jaw, a broken whine escapes Mingi and it nearly topples you hard over the edge.
You buck your hips hard into his hand and kiss his neck, “I’m g-going to come,” You tell Mingi, who swears before kissing your cheek.
Hardly a second flashes before you, then the hand between your thighs is ripped away, along with it is the pleasure that you so desperately crave.
“Mingi!” You whine, trying to reach for him as he pulls his hand from your cunt, dodging your grabby hands and begins to move off of your bed, already tearing the vest off his body.
“‘think you should be good now,” Mingi gives you a teasing smile, beginning to push his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down his thighs.
He keeps his gaze on you as he begins to crawl back onto the bed, and you can see the fire that’s present in his eyes. He moves to settle between your thighs, though you can’t help but let your vision wander down his body.
A gruff laugh comes from Mingi as you feel one of his warm hands rest on your thigh. His other hand reaches for you, gently resting on your cheek as he moves over you, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”
You want to laugh at his bluntness, but he kisses you so hard that you can hardly react. His hand moves from your thigh to sit heavy on your hip as he pushes into you, and all you can do is whimper into the kiss.
Despite the prep (and your inner insistence that you could take him unprepared), Mingi is big, and you could hardly remember the last time you felt so full. It’s a euphoric feeling as he thrusts into you, holding you down against your mattress and pushing any non Song Mingi related thoughts out of your mind.
Your hands move as if they have a mind of their own; one of them moves to tangle back in Mingi’s hair, and Mingi groans before pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Min, it feels so good.” The hand on your hip squeezes, pressing you harder into the mattress.
He smiles against your skin, and presses a kiss to your throat, “I’m not sure how long I’m going to last,” His voice is weak, and laced with wanton pleasure.
Mingi had been restraining himself all night - that much you knew. You had felt the change in his energy the moment he propped you up on his thigh in your living room, but he still took his time. He took his time teasing you, and drinking in everything you could give him, but you knew wanted more. Mingi wanted every last drop he could get from you, and you wanted him to have it.
You nod at his words, and try to pull Mingi closer to you. The incoming familiar waves of pleasure were already tugging at your strings, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would find yourself over the edge again.
You’d like to think it was the pleasure that spoke the next sentence that fell from your lips; or, maybe even the Mingi corrupted part of your brain, but you knew that you meant the following stuttered request with every ounce of your being.
“I wan’ you to come in me.”
Mingi’s hips stutter and he swears, “If I knock you up, you’d have to come with me.” He gives a hard thrust, as if proving a point, and seems to revel in the way it makes you gasp and clench around him, “Then, I might just knock you up again - for good measure.”
You can hardly contain the broken moan that falls from your lips, “Mingi… fuck, Joong would kill us.” You grip his arm, your nails digging into the flesh as he thrusts harder into your heat. You’d never admit (especially not to Hongjoong), but the idea Mingi proposed erupted a fire within you, and it burnt from head to toe.
A low growl escapes from his lips, as he presses another kiss into your sweaty skin, “Nah, Hongjoong would kill me. He could never hurt you, baby.”
He continues his kisses along your neck, and you feel the hand on your hip slowly move over your soft tummy before you feel his fingers graze over your clit again. He presses down on the sensitive nub as you mewl, pushing your hips up to meet his thrusts. The new angle presses his cock deeper into you, and you can feel the tendrils of euphoria begin to wrack through your body with every movement of Mingi’s hips and nimble fingers.
In that moment, you’re not sure how anyone will ever make you feel how Mingi does; how anyone will fuck you like this, or just simply look at you the way the tall gunman does.
Mingi’s hips stutter again as he gently nudges your cheek with his nose, “Y/N…”
You grip his arms harder; hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for Hongjoong and the others to find in the morning, but for now you just nod, “Mingi, come in me.” You repeat the demand.
Mingi presses a kiss on your collarbone as he moans, a breath of your name leaving his lips before he comes. The feeling of his seed spilling into you, and the warm hands on your body is enough to set off your own undoing, pushing you hard over the cliff.
Stars take over your vision, and your back arches as you ride out your orgasm against Mingi, trying to pull him closer into your orbit. You vaguely feel his hand take yours, and you begin to slowly recover while he presses soft kisses against your wrist and palm. He’s sweaty above you, and you can see the flush that overtakes his cheeks while he comes down from his own climax.
“Do you have to leave now?” You manage to croak out, scared to look at the clock next to your bed.
Mingi glances at the clock, and a frown crosses his face - just for a moment. He shakes his head though, “No, not yet.”
His voice is soft, and you know he’s lying to you. He’s still holding your hand as he moves to lie next to you on your bed. The bed is small enough that he crowds you against the wall, but you two had done this enough times that you expect it; in fact, you almost welcome the crowding that comes from having Song Mingi in your bed.
You’d take anything to spend more time with him, but for now you settle with the soft kisses he’s placing on your hand.
“You know what to say if they come looking for us?”
You nod.
“I’m sorry,” Guilt racks his voice, and you’re not sure what he’s sorry for. Maybe he’s saying it for Hongjoong, who pulled you back into this, or maybe he’s sorry for leaving.
Maybe he’s sorry for loving you, when neither of you could afford to be loved.
You don’t want an answer though, and instead you pull him back into your orbit and settle for slotting your lips against his one last time.
When you wake alone in the morning, you can’t help but notice the small doll in the arch around your door is gone - only the blank wallpaper behind it remains.
As your hand moves to touch the mouth-shaped bruise on your throat, you somehow find comfort in the broken arch of charms.
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yalnizligincisi · 3 months
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Neden uzun uzun sarılmadın bana? Veda eden sözlerindeyim hâlâ..
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vividlyaro · 3 months
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on sunflowers; a platonic love letter
i knew you then. i know you now. but how i wish i could have known you in that space between the two. how i wish we could have grown together.
we were sunflower seeds in the dirt, and even then i knew you were something special. you were good, so good. (for a week, i was convinced you were otherworldly, more than human. because i had no other concepts to explain how seen, how understood i felt when i was with you.) i was a child longing for connection, and when you entered my life, i almost didn't know what to do with all of the joy that followed.
we knew little of the world. we had so much growing to do. and in another lifetime, maybe we could have remained side by side throughout.
but the wind scattered us just out of reach. and i had a tendency to release my grasp on every good thing. it was chance that led to distance, but it was my own fear that led to silence. and i am sorry for the time we have lost.
and yet. we grew, reaching for the same sun. we grew in parallel arcs, turning to face the light, unfurling our leaves to touch the world with gentleness and courage.
and now i see you, here in the sunlight. we ended up here. we ended up okay. we cannot look into the past to see what made us who we are. but we can see who we were. and we can see who we are.
and i can say to you:
i knew you then. i know you now. i am sorry for the time between. thank you for not giving up on me. i love the person you are. i am proud of us both. you are someone i always want in my life.
i hope the future is kind to you. i hope your best days are ahead of you. i hope you know how loved you are. and i hope we see each other soon.
with this letter, i am sending you hugs and smiles and candy and music and legos and cool rocks and funny videos of baby animals and all of the happiness in the world.
your friend,
vivid.
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studyingbutworse · 4 months
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reading, shelling beans, reading, making soup, reading (repeat ad nauseum)
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escapesecret · 2 months
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"İnsanlar gider, anılar kalır."
"00:00"
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zombilerindekalbivar · 6 months
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Bazen sevmekten çok sevilmek iyi hissettirir
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bitmissinniremm · 3 months
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Veda eden sözlerindeyim hala…
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yeoandmoon · 11 months
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i found the cure to growing older (and you're the only place that feels like home) ( hongjoong x fem!reader )
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you're destined to follow park seonghwa. that's how it's been your whole life, and you'd prefer to keep it that way - thank you very much. it doesn't really come as a surprise to anyone when you follow him across the country to seoul to join the lucrative music industry, but perhaps the real surprise comes in the form of seonghwa's 5'8, pink-haired leader - kim hongjoong - and the late night studio visits that he's prone to.
smut, idolverse, producer!reader, friends with benefits, childhood bestie!seonghwa, a lot of music references (both joong and reader are little music snobs), implied seongjoong x reader (if u squint), studio sex, come eating, fingering, clit play, praise kink, bratty hongjoong, marking kink, implied dacryaphilia, wc is 3.1k
note: :) hiiiiiiiii (louder than anyone else) it has been a while! ngl here - this might be a little rusty! but i hope you all still enjoy it :) title is from i slept with someone in fall out boy, and all i got was this stupid song written about me by fall out boy! (ps. shoutout to the girl at blenz who watched me down a peppermint matcha and then go crazy writing the second part of this)
You owed a lot to Park Seonghwa.
You owed him far more than the cheap soju and street side corn dogs you bought him on nights out, despite listening to him whine that he had the idol money and could easily buy for both of you.
Seonghwa had gotten you the job at KQ Entertainment after a drunken night of you musing to him that no one in all of Seoul was hiring musicians, and you were about ready to pack up and move back with your grandma (who had been, in fact, right about moving to the big city) in the countryside. He helped you settle in the small studio full of instruments and sheet music, and he spent time with you around his busy schedules & hectic idol life.
(“It’s like you’re deliberately trying to keep me by your side, Hwa.”
“I did promise your grandmother I’d make sure Seoul didn’t chew you up and spit you back out, didn’t I?”)
He pushed you hard on quiet days, and would sit on the dingy little loveseat on the far side of your studio while he filled you in on random idol drama and rumors that filled the music show halls. Seonghwa would sometimes patiently watch you record instrumentals for songs, and go through demos the company would send you. He’d laugh at the jokes you’d crack about the bad demos, and sometimes you two would produce silly little raps & songs for the demos - seeing if you could somehow save the tone deaf beats & loud guitars that filled the GarageBand app.
Those were the days you longed for; the days you missed with your sweet best friend.
You understood the high school days once filled with old Fall Out Boy songs and pepero sticks were long gone, but you still tried to cling to the remnants that remained in your life.
Perhaps then, it would only make sense that Seonghwa would be the one to introduce you to Hongjoong - KQ’s Golden Boy and his closest friend within the idol world. In Seonghwa’s mind, this was a logical friendship. You two were ‘similar’ and ‘weirdly into music’, Seonghwa would tell you while on early morning coffee runs. He would grin at you when you raised an eyebrow at him.
“‘Weirdly into music?’ You’re the one with your face plastered onto subway cars, Mister Global Idol.”
(The small quips didn’t stop Seonghwa’s mission, though.
“I want you to meet someone.” He had told you, stalking into your cluttered studio one day.
A familiar figure followed Seonghwa through the door, his small stature dwarfed by your best friend. Kim Hongjoong was a colourful man. His hair was a vibrant blue, and his nails were painted a hot pink. He wore a backwards dad hat with the picture of a pastel coloured bass on it and a corny saying that you couldn’t quite catch before he looked up at you with bright eyes.
“So, you’re the one who produced the One Direction and Fix On remix?”)
After all, Seonghwa knew you better than anyone else. He knew all your deep secrets, and happy moments; he knew the things that made you tick and the things that brought you joy. So - maybe that was why you didn’t find yourself surprised when, none other than Seonghwa’s pick himself, Kim Hongjoong showed up outside your studio at 3 in the morning a mere few nights after being introduced; maybe that’s why it didn’t entirely baffle you when he placed a pile of cds ranging from newly released hip hop to eighties new wave, & everything in between, and asked your opinion on each and every cd in the pile. You soon found yourself arguing over the cultural shift you felt ‘Jolene’ brought, and cackling over Hongjoong’s Matty Healy impressions. 
Maybe that was why you weren’t surprised when he reached over and kissed you hard while a Shinee song played from your old MacBook and drowned out the soft moans that soon filled the small studio space.
Perhaps it was the late nights that followed the ‘Shinee Incident’; or, perhaps it was the fact you were both workaholics. You knew you should talk to Hongjoong outside of the oasis you felt you two had built yourselves within the rooms of KQ Entertainment, but sometimes you found the quietness of your late night rendezvous and stolen daytime kisses in the empty practice rooms was easier than the loud bustle of the Seoul streets and the distractions that came with Hongjoong leading a loud group of 20-something year old men.
You could also think of a hundred more reasons why you and Hongjoong kept meeting like this, but you were also content with just ignoring it and accepting whatever was going on until it was over.
[ from: hongjoong :) ] are you around??? [ from: hongjoong :) ] i can hear you playing with the piano. lol
Just like clockwork, you thought when your phone lit up. 
The bright little clock on your phone reads 03:19, and the piano you were working on was nearly finished. You were tired and craving your own bed; your ass hurt from the hard bench you had been sitting on for hours at that point. Despite that, you still found yourself reaching for your phone.
[ to: hongjoong :) ] yea im next door [ to: hongjoong :) ] :-)
Maybe you were craving something else too; maybe part of you was desperate for human affection, and you knew Hongjoong could give you that.
[ from: hongjoong :) ] :-)
(One could only take so much of the vibrator tucked away in their nightstand, of course.)
There was a shuffling in the hallway before the outline of Hongjoong appeared in the stained glass of the instrumental studio’s door. You watched the doorknob slowly turn before Hongjoong peeked his head into the room, a dark green beanie covering his faded pink hair. He smiled, and you swore his eyes always brightened at the sight of you.
“Hi.” You say, wincing at the exhaustion evident in your voice.
Hongjoong stepped into the studio, his eyes glancing around at the array of instruments surrounding you both before stopping back to where you sat on the piano stool.
“Hi.” He echos, stepping further into the room.
He’s wearing a tan hoodie that has little purple butterflies flying up the sleeve - and for a brief moment - you think it’s so sweet and so Hongjoong that you almost don’t want him to take it off. Then, he takes another step towards you and you see how his eyes darken as they take in the way your own hoodie is falling off your shoulder, exposing the lace black camisole and deep purple bra strap underneath. Something in his look stirs you, and you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you look at the man in front of you.
“How’s the comeback going?” Your words crack, and you know your cheeks must be burning.
“It’s good,” Hongjoong says, his tone confident while he keeps his eyes on you, and pulls the hoodie over his head. A dark brown t-shirt is revealed, stretching across his chest and riding up enough to reveal to you the boxer band peeking from under his jeans. He throws the hoodie in the general direction of your computer chair and a smile plays at his lips, “Hwa and I are recording part of the rap tomorrow.”
He takes a step forward as he speaks, and you can hear the way his own words crack as he speaks so casually about your shared friend.
You know he needs this as much as you do - if the thick bulge in his jeans says anything about Hongjoong’s current state of mind.
You force yourself to pull away from blatantly checking him out and look up at him, “Did you happen to get that song I sent you?”
Hongjoong takes another step forward. “The Counting Crows one?”
“‘A Long December,’” you move to get up from the piano bench.
Hongjoong is suddenly on you with a sense of urgency, and the small talk portion of your evening is abruptly finished. “Don’t get up,” he tells you, pushing you back onto the bench. 
You see then how affected he really is; his pupils half blown, and his cheeks beginning to match the peach in his hair. “Cute.” The compliment falls from your lips before you can stop yourself, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.
It delights you the way Hongjoong’s cheek burn at the simple word, and he moves to his knees in front of you, “‘Want you to stay there for me, yeah?” One of his hands moves to rest against your hand on his cheek.
You swallow and nod, not taking your eyes off the man who had managed to pry your legs apart, and was getting comfortable on the floor between them. You’re suddenly aware of your body’s reaction to Hongjoong - how sticky your panties were becoming & how heated your body was beginning to get.
Despite how common this occurrence was becoming, you never seemed to get used to how overwhelming his presence was; how much Hongjoong overtook your senses in every way possible. His hands moved to your waist, and he glances at you again before moving to the waistband of your leggings. His fingers gently slip under the waistband, and he nods to you - a request to move forward.
His fingertips are cool against your skin. They feel nice, you think as you nod to him.
Like most things with Hongjoong, he begins to move with urgency after he receives your consent. He leans up to pull you into a heated kiss as he tugs at your leggings and panties, urging you to shimmy out of them so he can get his hands on your thick thighs and the soaked core that’s between them.
Once exposed to him, one of his hands is immediately between your legs - his thumb pressing into your clit while two of his fingers gently run through your folds, gathering the wetness that lays there and sending your brain into a frenzy of Kim Hongjoong. 
You moan into the kiss, and your hands move up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer to you in an attempt to deepen the kiss. He smiles into it, and you just know that if you weren’t too busy kissing the smile away, it would be that impish, cocky smirk he gets every time he succeeds and wins; it’s the same smile he holds every time Ateez wins a music show, and it's the same smile he holds every time he makes you cum. One of his fingers gently breaches your sopping entrance, and you let out another moan against his lips.
“That feel good, love?” Hongjoong laughs against your lips before stealing another kiss.
Before you have a chance to answer, Hongjoong knocks your legs further apart and presses his thumb harder into your clit. His finger pushes into you and all you can do is swear, “Fuck! Hongjoong!”
Hongjoong releases another breathy laugh from his spot below you before pressing kisses down your neck. You feel his other hand begin to crawl up your tummy from its spot on your waist before stopping just as his fingertips hit the wire of your bra - it rests on your soft skin, and he hums against your skin before softly biting down. The sudden sting makes you gasp and your hand in his hair tightens on the strands you were holding, making Hongjoong hiss against you.
“Take it off.” He tells you, his hand coming up over the bra and tugging at the top of the cup to free your tit. His voice is lined with a growl, and his hand on your thigh tightens.
You know there’s bruises forming under Hongjoong’s fingers - adding to the collection of bruises he’s already left along your neck, tummy and anywhere else Hongjoong could possibly mark you. The possibility of them excites you; fills you with a pleasure, and rush of arousal.
His fingers immediately pinch at your nipple and you bite back a particularly loud whine, your hips bucking up against Hongjoong’s fingers. You begin to peel the hoodie off, letting it fall to the floor in front of the piano, while Hongjoong wastes no time to move his hand from your chest and tug the camisole over your head. It quickly joins the hoodie on the floor, and you’re left in only a lacy black bralette for Hongjoong’s hungry eyes.
“Take your shirt off.” You say, locking eyes with him and reaching for the brown fabric, “I wanna see you too.”
The light blush returns to Hongjoong’s cheeks, and you feel a sense of accomplishment rush through your veins. He leans back onto his legs and looks up at you - in the low & warm LED pink lights of your studio, Hongjoong looks pretty. His eyes are dark, and his hair is tousled from your pulling & tugging on it.
“Okay, love,” Hongjoong replies, “just gotta clean up first.”
There’s a small smile playing at Hongjoong’s lips as he moves his hand from your core, and keeps his eyes on you as he brings his hand to his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick his fingers clean, and all you can do is watch in pure pleasure as he licks your juices off his hand. He lets out a small moan, and your eyes widen as another rush of arousal surges through your body.
You tighten your thighs and try - & fail - to conceal the whimper that falls from your lips, and Hongjoong tilts his head in faux confusion. He moves his hand from his mouth, “What’s the matter, sweetie? I just wanted to taste you.”
You’re utterly, and completely, speechless and all Hongjoong can do is giggle from his spot below you. 
He leans up to kiss you again, with his (now “clean”) hand coming up and cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer. You kiss him back and part of you revels in the faint taste of yourself on his tongue. Your hands move to the bottom hem of his shirt, and you break the kiss to pull Hongjoong’s shirt over his head.
It’s added to the ever-growing pile of clothes that are gathering at the bottom of the piano.
“You’re gorgeous.” You say, and you can’t help as your eyes rake down Hongjoong’s newly exposed body and the piercing that glints in the light on his left nipple.
Hongjoong’s eyes flash, and his other hand tightens on your thigh again, “Do ya’ think flattery will get you somewhere, sweetie?”
You play along with Hongjoong’s games. You pretend you don’t see the way he gets flustered & bothered when you compliment him, and he pretends not to notice that you like making him feel like that. You couldn’t deny the absolute rush it gave you every time he whined your name at the smallest praise.
You take a deep breath before nodding, “Will you let me cum?” You ask, giving him a pout.
Hongjoong’s cocky smirk is back, and your hands grip the edge of the bench. They’ve become so tight against the wood that you’re sure your knuckles are white; it was your turn to become flustered. Your mind was beginning to fray at the edges with every second that passes of Hongjoong’s intense stare and the way his hands slowly began to move up your thighs again. 
He pushes your thighs apart again, and promptly takes his spot back between your legs. He gives you a cheeky smile while you gasp at the cold air against your soaking core; before he pushes you back against the piano and pushes his two fingers back into your hole, chuckling when you let out a cry of his name. The piano keys sound out throughout the room, but Hongjoong ignores it as he drives his fingers harder into you.
If Hongjoong wasn’t so determined to fuck you stupid, perhaps you’d think he was trying to see what notes he could produce every time your back bounces against the keys. Perhaps, just maybe - you’d even suggest turning the microphone on, and recording the notes and moans that’d be produced.
You open your mouth to say something - possibly to beg, possibly to cry for Hongjoong but all thoughts are abandoned when Hongjoong leans forward and takes your clit in his mouth. He sucks on the little nub and you swear your brain goes blank.
You cry out in pleasure, and your hands go down to find purchase in Hongjoong’s hair. He groans against you, one of his hands coming up to hold you waist as you gently rock your hips up against his face.
“Joong…” You plea, “Hongjoong, I’m so close. You feel so good, Joong.”
He adds another finger into you, heightening your pleasure and beginning to scissor them to stretch you out as you gasp, “You’re gonna take my cock after this, right sweetie?”
You nod. It’s all you can really bring yourself to do - although you know you’d do anything for Hongjoong at this moment. You’d probably allow Seonghwa to see you like this, if he wanted you to.
Hell, you’d allow Seonghwa to join in, if Hongjoong asked you too right now. 
“Hongjoong, please…”
Hongjoong kisses your cheek, and you flutter your eyes open to find him level with you, “Go on, love. Let it out for me.”
The simple words were all it took for you to come. The overwhelming euphoria of Kim Hongjoong took over your psyche, and you cried his name as you gripped his arms. 
You ride out your orgasm while you chant Hongjoong’s name, and he kisses your cheek & jaw. He now stands over you, his hand gently running through your hair as you slowly recover, resting your head on his tummy and reveling in the feeling of his hand in your hair.
It takes a moment to look up at Hongjoong. You’re still panting, and you feel tears on your cheeks begin to settle. He smiles sweetly at you, before leaning down to kiss you - softer than any other point during the night.
“Do you want to keep going?” Hongjoong asks, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck.
You begin to pull away as your hands come up to undo his belt, “I gotta keep my word, don’t I?” You bite your lip to stop the smile beginning to grow on your face.
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lonelysoul235 · 3 months
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Bárcsak újra jóban lennénk, mindent megadnék azért hogy újra beszéljünk és találkozunk..
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yalnizligincisi · 4 months
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Öptün ve beni kalbine gömdün de; ama kendini öldürme, kıyamam sana gitsen de..
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deriinlerde · 3 months
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Beni öptüğün son gün gibi,
Gözümü kapat öldür beni.
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ruhaveda · 16 days
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💛
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civcivwq21 · 2 months
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