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#Hobie is none of those things
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Somebody needs to draw Hobie Brown in this shirt has anyone drawn him in this shirt Hobie needs this shirt cause this is a shirt he would absolutely wear
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cultrise · 7 months
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HATE FUCKING. PROWLER!HOBIE
⚝ CONTENTS NSFW, rough sex (consensual), reader gets manhandled, a little dumbification, degradation, hobie has a frenum & a lorum piercing ᵎᵎ wc 2.5k
ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !
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24 days, 18 hours and 4 minutes have passed since you and your now ex-boyfriend, hobie brown, have broken up.
life being hobie’s girlfriend wasn’t always pink. he didn’t like to open up that much, you often felt like he kept secrets and he always ignored any problems that arose in the relationship. and even though you loved each other, even though the relationship was great overall and the sex was amazing, the last straw was finding out that hobie was none other than the vigilante ‘the prowler’, which was hunted down heavily by police.
it all happened when you came across a box of interesting gadgets and designs, detailed schematics and tools to use for building them. now sure, you had some suspicions for a while about what hobie’s actual job entailed but hearing it out of his mouth was like getting stabbed. it wasn’t necessarily the information that he was indeed the prowler that gutted you, but more-so the absolute audacity of this man to put his life at risk and lie to you about it.
it all ended up becoming a huge fight that lasted for hours, time in which you insulted each other to the bone, yelled until your lungs gave out and threw everything you could get your hands on at each other. you were devastated. sure, your relationship might not have been perfect, but how did hobie expect for you to trust him if he couldn’t trust you with a part of his own identity? the summary of the fight resulted into you two breaking up in an ugly way and having the worst meltdowns possible because of it.
now, after so many days, you had finally tricked yourself into believing the outcome was for the best. you had stashed every item that had ever belonged to hobie into a box and placed it into the corner of your closet, saying you’ll throw it out when you get the time. obviously, that never happened, as you always found new excuses not to. you were sure you hated hobie.
and in retrospect, hating him was better than acknowledging how badly still loving him hurt. you dreaded the nighttime because you knew the moment you cuddled up in bed you were met with memories and dreams of him that would just not leave you be. even his pillow had lost all scent of him.
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you entered your apartment with a sigh, tossing your keys on the couch. it had been a long day, with a long shift at work and even though your stomach was rumbling and your house was a mess, the only thing on your mind was slipping out of those clothes and get into bed. as you removed your jacket you heard the sound of footsteps against the floor. you looked around, panicked. no.. must’ve been coming from outside? until, you hear it again.
you quickly grab a knife from the kitchen, holding it in a trembling hand as you make your way to the source of the sound: your bedroom. as you step in you see a tall, shadowy figure going through your closet and you raise your hand, to strike. with a sudden shift you feel a hand go to your wrist, a tight grip making you drop the knife to the floor. you were about to scream before one large hand dropped over you mouth and you felt the familiar scent of cigarettes hit your nostrils.
“what the fuck, woman? are ya’ insane?” hobie half-yells as he takes a step back, letting you take the information in. he was there. in front of you. in your room. he looked,, awful. “what the fuck are you doing in my house?” you say between grit teeth as his face softens and he sighs “i uh.. came t’.. get my stuff” his eyes trail to the prowler mask that lay on your desk.
“you could’ve called. i thought i was getting robbed!” you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrow “i did. y’blocked my fucking phone number!” oh yeah. you did do that. oops. you play with your fingers anxiously “right..” hobie says with a big breath as he turns around to the closet “okay, maybe stop going through my stuff?” you place a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away. hobie watches you with wide, confused eyes.
“i wasn’t? i’m lookin’ for my stuff because i know this is whe’e you keep your shit! stop making a fuss out of anythin’ “ he groans as he turns again “oh, i’m making a fuss?” “oh great, there we go” hobie scoffs as you grab him by his jacket “you listen to me. you don’t get to come to my house uninvited and start bitching. now move over so i can give you your shit and leave. i’m sick of you” you push him to the side with a hiss, starting to look for his box of things.
hobie rolls his eyes, trying not to let his demeanour drop. he didn’t come over with the thought of getting back together, even if it was permanently on his mind. but hearing you treat him like that.. it hurt. he sat himself down on your chair, propping his legs up on the desk as he waited.
after a short amount of time you pull the box out, placing it on the table with a loud bang “there. it’s all in here” hobie gets up and starts going through it with pursed lips “is this?…” he asks wide-eyes as he takes out a studded bracelet with your initials on it, his first ever gift to you “yeah.. it is.. i have no use for it anymore so feel free to give it to someone else” you cross your arms, not meeting his stare.
hobie did not consider himself a sensitive person at all. yet in that moment it was as if glass shattered into his toracic cavity and pierced through his every muscle “give.. give it to someone else?” he scoffs in disbelief “i gave this to you” he says as he holds a hand out, trying to see if you’re going to take it or not. you shake your head after a few moments of hesitation “no. i dont need it. and in case you havent realised it yet, i hate you. so please, be on your way” you gesture to the door.
this time, hobie is overcome by rage “say tha’ again?” your eyes finally meet his, watching them get darker “what? that i hate you?” you almost feel hobie’s patience snap in half “you hate me now, d’you?” he spits out. you, however, hold your ground “yeah. i do. i think i made myself pretty clear” a hand flies to your wrist once again, pulling you closer “i think you need to stop lying to y’self”
you try to pull yourself away from his grip “hobie! let go!” the man just towers over you, his presence now more intimidating than ever “no. i am sick and tired of this bullshit. you hate me tha’ much? then why haven’t y’thrown this shi’ away?” he points to the box of things, making you bite down on ur lip “you want t’play that game? fine. y’re nothing but a liar” he hisses as you turn to him, in shock “i’m the liar?! me?! after all of the years you have lied to me about being the prowler?!”
hobie lets out a low chuckle as he moves away from you “you still hung up on that, huh?” “still hung… hobie, the main reason of our breakup was the fact that you lied to me! you led me to not be able to trust you, do you even hear yourself?!” hobie’s hand grips at the table, the veins on his arms pulsating. “i did that to fucking protect you! y’think i liked leaving secretly every night to patrol the streets just so i make sure y’re safe?! no! but i did it anyway. fuck…”
you blink at him in bewilderment. your lips part, but no sound comes out of your mouth as your neck goes dry “you want to say y’hate me? fine. go right ahead. i can lie like tha’ too” you had never seen him so angry before. your hands tremble as you try to reach for him, not because you’re afraid, but because you don’t know what to say. “hobie..” you choke out his name.
you don’t even realise when hobie takes ahold of you, pushing you to a wall and kissing you like he’s starved, attacking your lips and biting them every chance he gets. you don’t take long to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in even more as your teeth clash together. his hands roam your body, fingers finding their way to the zipper of your jeans before he pulls them off. you break off the kiss, lips parted and face flushed with need as you follow suit and take off your top and unclasp your bra.
hobie watches you as you do so before scoffing “hate me but are quick t’get undressed the moment i get handsy? fuck, this is such a joke” he grunts before picking you up with ease and throwing you on the bed, flipping you on your stomach and climbing on top. you’re so wet. you shouldn’t be this wet. anyone else would be absolutely terrified with the way hobie was acting. yet you knew him too well, you knew his frustration came from missing you so much, from you telling him that you hate him when you clearly didn’t.
his hands grab at your hips as your face gets pushed down into the mattress and you moan the second you feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy “hate me, yeah? you’re nothing but a needy slut, lookin’ fo’ attention” his hands travel to your breasts, pinching at your nipples. your body shudders at the feeling “p..please, hobie– “ “please? please what?” “i need you” “do ya’?” a low chuckle “ain’t that funny”
he moves one of his hands to you panties as he slowly drags them down to reveal the mess underneath. your arousal drips down your thigh “fuck me, y’re so fucking dirty. a dirty liar, that’s what y’are” hobie growls before inserting two fingers into your cunt. you grip at the sheets, a long moan dropping from your lips as you raise your ass up even more so he can go deeper. unfortunately for you, that doesn’t happen, as hobie’s fingers suddenly leave your pussy and he watches as your hole clenches around nothing, in desperation “she wants me so bad, doesn’t she?” he purrs as you whine.
with a tug at your shoulders he lifts your upped body up, making you turn around to face him “clean this shit off” he gestures before you obediently suck on his slicked fingers, looking up at him. hobie lets out a sharp breath as his dick strains against the fabric of his boxers “you hate me?” he asks when you’re done, before grabbing your jaw and pulling you closer “nah.. i hate you” and he turns you around, pushing your head back into the mattress as he slips his pants off.
soon enough he slams into you, fingernails digging into your hips as you moan in the fabric of your sheets “hob.. hobie.. ahh.. oh god!” you scream as you try to adjust to his size. it had been a long time since you had fucked him and taking him all at once was a bit hard to do. but you were so aroused you couldn’t think straight, you wanted him to fuck you so bad it quite literally hurt “strugglin’ t’ take all of me in? missed this cock, did you, you slut? fuck.. i hate you” he mumbles as he goes faster, his lips stuttering at every stroke.
you soon become to fucked out to even think as hobie’s tip pressed against you g-spot just right. you move a hand between your legs, pressing two fingers to your clit as you try to get off, moaning into the sheets “look at you, tryin’ t’get off like a little slut. wann’cum that bad?” you whine as your digits drag over your puffy clit, your insides being absolutely destroyed with hobie’s pace and the way his piercing’s rubbed against your gummy walls.
“it’s too much, hobie… please” you manage to get out as he lets out a low chuckle “you’re begin’ me now? y’can take it” and you realise he’s right, that it would’ve been so much more painful for him to pull out at that moment and leave you there, hot and bothered, unable to pleasure yourself the way he did. and you knew the reason that hobie didn’t pull a stunt like that was because he was close, maintaining his pace as he starts to fuck up his words.
“such a.. f..fuck… such a dirty whore.. i hate you.. mhm.. i hate you so much” he groans as he throws his head back, adam’s apple bobbing up and down “say you hate me” hobie says as he slaps your ass, the sharp sting making you whine “i… i hate you” another slap “say it properly” “i ha… oh god, hobie!” you scream as you feel yourself come closer to orgasming. another slap “properly” tears stream down your eyes as, with a final rub to your clit you cum all over his cock, ruining your sheets.
hobie looks down at you as you drop limp on the bed, panting and too fucked out to utter proper words. he watches as your mouth opens but no words come out and he smirks “pathetic, ain’t ya’?” you bite your lip as you close your eyes, the words finally escaping your swollen lips “i love you” and hobie’s eyes widen, his pupils dilate and his heart thumps against his chest. you raise yourself, propping your upper body on your palms as you push your ass back, fucking yourself into his cock. the action catches him off guard, making him let out a guttural grunt of pleasure.
“want you to cum in me” you look back at him, begging him to keep fucking you. it doesn’t take long for hobie to comply to your demands, this time, staying silent. you try not to think of the nature of his silence and the reasons for it as his hips snap into yours. his strokes quickly become uneven and hobie parts his lips, staggered breaths coming out from between them.
“shit..” hobie moans as he grips your hips again, body shuddering all over as he shoots his cum inside of you, watching it drip from your pussy as he pulls out. you turn your whole body around, your back pressed against the bed as you caress his cheek with one hand. his eyes close slowly while you caress his cheekbone “i’m sorry” you whisper as his eyes open again, deep dark eyes staring into yours. and suddenly, his whole expression goes all soft, eyes closing again “so am i”
“i love you, hobie” you repeat your former affirmation as he caresses your waist and pulls a blanket on top of you. his lips find their way to your forehead, applying three gentle kisses “i love you too”
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© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.
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solitude4chiron · 10 months
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Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE
He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK
He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5
“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”
“Never even played.”
“NIGGA WHAT?”
Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done
“How many do you have left?”
“Boy move that damn hand.”
Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”
“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”
“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”
Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball
Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food
Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes
“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”
“Y’all use that shi?”
“who df are you bro…”
Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 
Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)
Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs
Hobie: Attachment: 1
disgusting creatures…
Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house
Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs
“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”
“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”
“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”
Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)
On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)
Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist
Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”
“Yo, were you stealing back there?”
“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”
“Nevermind.”
Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.
Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.
He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks
After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.
“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”
“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”
• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.
“imma get bro good this time..”
“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”
• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.
• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.
“Are you playboi carti?!”
“Bruv.”
over.
“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”
“bru…”
and over.
“you Opium?”
“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”
and over again.
• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.
“you good young’n?”
“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”
“that’s cool too”
• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.
• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around
• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.
• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.
anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛
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flamingo-writes · 10 months
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A/N: i am back from the dead after months. And it should’ve come as a surprise that I absolutely loved Hobie. Looks like a rockstar and is an absolute punk. My type in a nutshell.
I’m gonna be using some of these headcanon for future
Gal in The Chair — Hobie Brown x Artist!Reader
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I think Hobie would be the kind of guy to fall for someone who he’s known for a long while, that being said, you’d perhaps known him all of your life
Having grown together, the two of you shaped a lot of each other’s beliefs. So no wonder the two of you were so compatible.
After the spider bite, you saw the whole journey from Hobie freaking out at first, to him figuring out how to use his new abilities.
He designed his web shooters, being the genius he is with technology. You helped him with his suit, specially his mask.
You became his Gal in the Chair
You liked to fix up and personalise clothes. All of your pieces of clothings came from second hand shops and you gave them a make over doing all sorts of stuff on them to make them unique and yours.
You also did this with a lot of Hobie’s clothes. As well as teaching him how to use your sewing machine.
After graduating high school, you opened a small alternative clothing shop in with unique pieces, doing the same thing you did for your clothes on this one. As well as doing hand made jewerly like bracelets, necklaces and earrings. You also had a talent with plants, managing to almost magically bring plants back to life and reproduce them like crazy, you added selling plants into your small business.
As Spider-Man gained traction, he low key promoted your work to his followers and people who agreed with him. This in order to keep negative attention from falling on you, and keep bad guys from thinking and theorising that maybe you knew Spider-Man.
As a side gig, you educated yourself on coffee making, and learned about the different processes and types of coffee beans there were. It started as a hobby, but soon you also implemented that into your shop.
The fact that you were so versatile, made Hobie feel incredibly proud of you. You seemed to be so independent, and creative and that never ending curiosity and passion made him harvest feelings for you.
Eventually, the close friendship, and companionship grew into affectionate and romantic feelings.
Hobie was always flirty, but it wasn’t until now that you started behaving differently. Normally he played his electric guitar but now you found him playing his acoustic guitar more.
He showed you a song he wrote. And while it was unusual —however, not imposible— to hear a romantic song coming from him, it wasn’t until the first minute that you realised the song was about you.
That’s how he chose to tell you about his feelings.
He didn’t intend for it to be this romantic, he simply one day word vomited the song and used one free afternoon to add the music.
After hearing his song, it was actually you who grabbed him and kissed him.
More than satisfied with the outcome, he kissed you back, put his guitar down and pulled you over his lap.
You two became inseparable since. You already were, but now it was more evident.
You worked at home, doing all the creative things you did, selling them, helping Spider-Man with art shows and gigs.
Those who paid close attention, they were able to determine you were some sort of associate to Spider-Man. However, all of them were also punks and anarchist so of course they kept their mouths shut. Spider-Man was always looking out for those in need. They were going to help a brother back and not tell anyone whenever any authority or weird-looking threat asked if anyone knew Spider-Man, or someone close to him.
You became widely known between Spider-Man supporters, although none of them would ever dare to snitch on you.
After Hobie met Gwen, she brought her over, you two became close friends right away. Letting Gwen crash at your place more often than not. She even offered to help you with the dishes and the groceries as thanks for letting her stay.
“You’re Hobie’s friend, you’re welcome whenever you want,” You’d told her.
Pav was also a frequent visitor. He loved your coffee, he taught you how to make chai. And you had chai ready for whenever Hobie told you Pav was going to be there.
Pav also bought plants from you all the time. Most of them for his mom. He once asked you if you could make a set of earrings and a necklace for his mom.
The set was a success and Pav always told you how much she loved them,
Eventually Miles also came around. And it wasn’t until Miles met you that his suspicions of Hobie and Gwen dating dissappeared.
Miles saw the absolute pure love with which Hobie looked at you. He still made the same sarcastic and cheeky jokes while talking to you. But the way he looked at you was completely different to the way he looked at anyone else.
Hobie convinced Miles to buy a plant and some earrings for his mother.
“Listen mate, this is what my girl does for a living. Plus the world needs to learn to appreciate the handiwork of an artisan,”
Miles was even surprised at how Hobie still looked cool while being mushy and cheesy with you as he hugged you, kissed your head, or played with your hands or hair.
Hobie had zero fucks to give about what people think about him, he doesn’t give a shit about PDA. Gwen thinks it’s gross, Pav thinks it’s adorable, Miles is simply puzzled as to how he is still cool when seeing his parents doing the same thing would make him cringe so hard.
Hobie is amused by the different reactions he gets. Especially Gwen’s grossed out face.
He still loves kissing you every chance he gets. Whether if it’s kissing you passionately. A subtle peck. Sweet kissed on your cheek or your forehead.
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suuuupernovaaa · 10 months
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Pierced - Hobie Brown x f!Reader
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You've been seeing Hobie for a while, and he's just now finding your surprising piercings.
Mature. Smut. 18+.
Walking side by side down the street, I know that Hobie and I look a little odd together. Sunshine and rain. Day and night. Darkness and light.
Hobie is all sharp elbows, piercings, raised eyebrows, tattoos and piercings, shit-this and fuck-that. He's loud and aggressive and somehow always relaxed.
I am none of those things. I am crisp, anxious, soft-spoken, small, always dressing modestly and in muted colors, afraid of my own shadow, of any attention.
Except his.
When we're alone, there's no difference between us. Lying on my couch, Hobie's head rests on my stomach, and I watch it rise and fall with my heavy breaths.
He is laying between my legs, and I feel... warm.
His hand, large and calloused from years of playing guitar, travels slowly up my side, under my yellow sun dress. The air conditioner in the window hums, blowing cool air over us as the temperature outside climbs.
His hand leaves a trail of goosebumps wherever it goes. He lingers on the side of my breast, gently stroking, and I gasp. He chuckles.
"What's this?" he asks, and lifts his head up to look at you. His deft fingers have just brushed across the hard metal bar through my nipple. My one rebellious act, something just for me. And now for him.
I blush and try not to smile. "A nipple piercing."
He is almost too stunned to speak, which is truly a miracle for Hobie. "May I see them?" he asks, his words strung together in one lump. He's lost his breath.
I bite my lip and nod. He rushes to his knees, kneeling between my legs, and grabs the hem of my dress. Slowly, he pulls it over my thighs, my stomach, and finally reveals my pale bralette.
Sitting up on my elbows, I allow him to pull the dress over my head. My heart is hammering in my chest. This is the furthest we've gone, and even though I've desperately wanted to, I've been nervous - nervous to disappoint Hobie.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his fingers teasing the straps of my bra. All I can do is nod, there is a large lump on my throat, and gooseflesh covering every inch of me. My nipples stand erect as he pulls the bra over my head, and his hands quickly return to them. He runs his thumb gently over one, then the other, and I fall back onto the couch, letting out a soft sigh.
"Fuck me, Y/N," Hobie whispers. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen."
My blush deepens, reddening not just my cheeks, but my neck and my chest, as well. I can feel my body growing hot.
Without hesitation, Hobie leans down and takes one nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Involuntarily, my back arches off the couch, and I put a hand in his hair.
"Hobie!" I gasp, but he doesn't stop. He swirls the piercing around his tongue, tugging my sensitive bud with it, and I throw my other arm over my eyes, beginning to pant.
He releases my nipple with a soft pop, and immediately brings his mouth to the other, groaning as he takes it in.
"Oh, god," I moan. Heat pools between my legs, and I can feel my panties growing damp already. As if he can sense it, Hobie's hand drifts down my side once more, and tugs at the waist band of my underwear. He releases my stiff peak, and brings both hands to my panties, pulling them down, over my knees, and off.
I am completely exposed in front of him, and he is still fully dressed. I reach out for his shirt, and without missing a beat, he yanks it over his head. We repeat this dance with his belt, and his pants, until only Spider-Punk themed boxers are left.
"Really?" I ask flatly, and he shrugs and smirks, and then positions himself between my legs once more - but he's no longer paying attention to my nipples.
He presses a soft kiss just above my mound. "I want to taste you," he whispers.
"Yes," I reply immediately, my hands already in his hair as his head moves further south.
If I thought his mouth was magic on my nipples, it's nothing compared what he does with my pussy. He takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and swirling, humming to create a beautiful vibration that makes me turn my head to the side, moaning loudly into the back of the couch.
He brings two fingers up as he continues his assault on my clit, teasing my entrance, and I open my legs as widely as possible, beckoning him in.
He enters agonizingly slowly, and his thick, cold rings are a surprising treat. His fingers curl upwards, finding just the right spots inside of me, and I grind down onto him, desperate for more.
"Oh, fuck, Hobie," I say with a loud groan. Something tells me I should be embarrassed about how loudly I'm reaching, but I just can't be; I've never felt anything like this before. His long fingers stoking inside me, his mouth on my clit, and his other hand twisting and pulling at my nipple.
I cum with embarrassing speed, arching my back and screaming his name as I do, and he never lets up, wringing more pleasure out of me, until I have to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to mine. I can taste myself on him, and it makes my pussy clench again.
He pushes my hair out of my face and pulls away, just enough to smile down at me. "I'd like to fuck you now," he whispers, and I take in a sharp, fast breath.
"Please, fuck me," I say, realizing how empty I feel, how satisfied and yet unsatisfied I am.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "I don't wanna... go too fast. I was going to wait. The piercings, Y/N. My cock is so fucking hard."
I reach down, pulling his boxers off as far as I can, and he finishes the job, then settles between my legs, looking at me again.
"I want you so bad," I say, almost crying with the desperation of it, unable to think of anything else. "I want you inside me."
He reaches down and positions himself at my entrance, teasing me, and I thrust my hips up, crazy and desperate for him.
"Now, Hobie," I demand, and he listens.
He thrusts into me, and I gasp with a sharp pain, and an unimaginable pleasure. He's large, and he stays still, allowing me to adjust for just a few moments, before he starts to move.
His fingers were incredible, but this is something else altogether. Jesus Christ, it's magic.
I grip his back, digging my nails in, as he thrusts in and out slowly, stretching my walls around him, hitting exactly the right spot. I can feel another orgasm building already.
"Fuck, Y/N. You're so tight. So fucking ready for me," he whispers in my ear, his hot breath on my neck.
It's only a few more strokes before we cum together, and he moans my name in my ear while my pussy clenches tight around his cock, taking every drop of him into myself.
When we're finished, he collapses on top of me, his head in the crook of my neck, and we pant in rhythm together.
"I thought I loved you before today. Now I'm fucking sure," Hobie says.
I am so blissed out, and so tired, I almost don't catch what he's saying to me - for the very first time.
He looks up, and gives me a true, genuine smile. Something that is rare from Hobie.
"I love you too." I lean down, and press a gentle kiss to his nose.
"Got any hidden tattoos or anything?" he says with a laugh.
"You'll just have to wait and see."
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yeagerfate · 10 months
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their love languages.
characters: miles morales (earth-1610), gwen stacy, hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar, miguel o’hara
warnings: none! just fluff <3
notes: thank you guys so much for all the love on my previous posts! i have so much fun when i write these so i will definitely be posting some more soon. enjoy ur food lol
MILES MORALES
Miles’ love language is QUALITY TIME. He always wants to spend time with you and is definitely an “experience” rather than “materialistic gift” type of person. He gets very shy when expressing his love for you verbally, so he does it through quality time. He’ll draw you during study sessions (Unbeknownst to you, he always finishes before you. He just never says anything because he still wants an excuse to hang out with you.), will ask you to play video games with him, and is constantly going skateboarding with you, even if you’re bad at it. He just wants to see you, and is afraid to ask you to just “hang out” because he doesn’t want you to think he’s weird. In return, Miles would like ACTS OF SERVICE. A lot of people have betrayed him and hurt him, so he would really like someone who goes out of their way to help him. To him, it proves how much you care for him, and that’s really important to Miles.
GWEN STACY
Although Gwen can be cold to those she doesn’t trust, once you get to know her, she’s always going out of her way to support you. Her love language is ACTS OF SERVICE. She plays songs for you whenever you want, is always taking care of you when you’re sick, and somehow always knows when you’re upset. Before she comes over, she always gets you your favorite snacks and drinks. Gwen tries her best to look out for you the way she couldn’t for her late friend Peter. She just wants you to be safe, and she asks for nothing in return once you gain her trust. However, Gwen’s face would turn 50 shades of red with a significant other whose love language is WORDS OF AFFIRMATION. She loves it when you tell her how proud of her you are, when you tell her you’ll always be there for her… she’s immediately enamored with you. Oh, and when you tell her how pretty you think she is? She’s on cloud 9.
HOBIE BROWN
Hobie loves GIFT GIVING. Sometimes, when he returns from another mission, he’ll come back with some strange trinkets. They’re always fun to look at, to wonder what other people from other universes think of them. Hobie always makes sure to pick out the ones that you’ll like; it’s the one time he makes an effort to be consistent. A small smirk always appears on his face when he sees you wearing the earrings that he stole from another universe. When you’re going out of your way to make things easier for him, though, he’s a goner. Hobie would really be smitten for someone whose love language is ACTS OF SERVICE. He never blushes, but you’ll see a light shade of violet emerge on his cheeks when he sees that you ran errands for him while he was gone, or when you help him with his hair on wash day. It’s all very sweet.
PAVITR PRABHAKAR
Pav’s favorite way to express his adoration for you is PHYSICAL TOUCH. He loves to hold your hand, cuddle with you (he’s a little spoon), and kiss you on the cheek. Your warmth is one of his favorite sensations. He just likes to know that you’re there. It’s really scary for him to imagine a world where you’re not by his side, so he likes to give you as much affection as possible. He always wants you to know that he loves you. Oh, and if he has a mission soon? You won’t be seen walking around with him not right behind you. He gets super clingy right before he has to leave. On another note, Pav loves receiving homemade GIFTS. He’ll always wear anything that you make him, especially if it’s something for his hair. He’ll definitely brag about it when he travels to the Spider Society.
MIGUEL O’HARA
Miguel is very protective of you, so his love language is PHYSICAL TOUCH. Even if it’s subtle, he always is somehow close to you, whether it’s a hand on your back, a hand holding yours, or both. Miguel has lost almost everything, so he is always seeking out your warmth. However, he is not too fond of PDA unless it’s subtle, so he always keeps his affections elusive. It is also very important to him that his enemies do not find out about you, as his worst nightmare would be them coming after you. You are the very last thing Miguel has; he’d rather die than witness anything happen to you. Miguel would absolutely adore someone whose love language is ACTS OF SERVICE. When he comes back from a mission all banged up, and you volunteer to help him clean up? Suddenly his heart is beating 2x faster than usual and his pupils are dilated.
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xjoonchildx · 2 months
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kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away
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banner by the amazing @kth1 💕
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⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.
⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok
⚜️rating: mature, 18+
⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut
⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.
⚜️word count: 10.2K
⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.
thank you guys so, so much 💕
previous chapter masterlist
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Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it
– “Wait for It”
Hamilton, An American Musical 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.
You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap. 
“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”
Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.
“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”
There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.
“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.
It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames. 
But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.
So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet. 
But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.
You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand. 
Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.
“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”
You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.
“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”
You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.
So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.
Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”
“Has he asked for me?”
Hyeri blinks. “The King?”
“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”
The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”
“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”
You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence. 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”
“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.
You ignore it.
Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.
“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”
You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on. 
“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”
You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.
“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”
You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.
You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.
And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool. 
When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances. 
He’d finished you. 
“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”
Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white. 
“Your Grace?”
You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.
“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”
Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.
Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters. 
Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure. 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
The first snow of the season arrives early.
You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.
In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts. 
“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”
“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”
“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”
“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.
“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.” 
You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.
You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.
“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.
They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.
You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face. 
So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.
Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.
“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”
“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”
“I am pleased.”
The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side. 
“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”
The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.
“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”
The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way. 
“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”
You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.
“Your Grace.” 
The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”
What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once. 
You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”
The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. 
“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”
You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well. 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire. 
As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth. 
She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.
She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.
“Hyeri?”
The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her.  She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”
“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth. 
Is she trembling?
“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”
Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.
“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”
You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for. 
You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.
“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.” 
She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.
“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.” 
The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles. 
“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”
Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.
“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”
It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.
“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”
Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger. 
“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”
Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri. 
But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur.
“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”
You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers? 
The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”
“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours. 
“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”
“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her. 
“What were you reading tonight?”
Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.
“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”
“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks. 
“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”
It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman. 
“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.
“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”
“You must miss him,” you say gently.
“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”
It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.
Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.
“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “
Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”
Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.
“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”
Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.
When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face. 
And in the next, it has a name.
“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”
You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.
“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.
But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she? 
“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.
“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice. 
Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”
Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear? 
“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”
“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”
“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “
You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.
“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.
“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes. 
“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”
Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.
“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”  
Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.
“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”
And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.
With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.
But the situation is far weightier than that. 
You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it. 
You’ll not allow him to devastate you again. 
“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”
“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”
“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”
Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.
“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”
“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”
He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.
“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”
Every muscle in your body pulls tight.
“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”
The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark. 
The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike. 
“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”
He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.
“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”
“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”
Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.
“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”
“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.
“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”
You stop breathing entirely.
“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”
You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel. 
“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.” 
There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.
“My Lord, I – “
“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”
“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”
“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.
“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.
“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”
He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King. 
“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. 
“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”
He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.
But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.
“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”
Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.
“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire. 
You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.
Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed. 
When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.
“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”
“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”
Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.
“Can I touch you?” 
“Please,” he groans.
And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.
“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?
“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”
“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”
“Of course.”
He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.
“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.
He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.
“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.” 
The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.
“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”
You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.
“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown. 
You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover. 
“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”
You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone. 
You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.
“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.
“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”
Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him. 
Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it  finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.
“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”
There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –
You freeze.
“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”
He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.
“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”
In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.
“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”
He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.
“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”
And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance. 
And at once, you see stars.
“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.
But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.
And then he slides one long finger into you.
You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this. 
And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.
And then it stops.
He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”
But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”
He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”
He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.
And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.
“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”
“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”
Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.
“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”
Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.
“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”
You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”
And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you. 
Bodies sealed, fates sealed.
The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation. 
You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.
Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.
But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.
You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.
Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin,  watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury. 
“What happens now, Hoseok?”
You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”
You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.
“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”
“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.
You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.
Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”
But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration. 
“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”
You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know. 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
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y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕
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porcalinecunt · 11 months
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𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 !
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✟ 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
✟ 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅
𝐜𝐰 — tooth rotting fluff, but otherwise, none.
𝐚𝐧 ❥ finals finished today so i decided to write a little something to feed my hobie obsession. this was definitely self indulgent but im pretty unapologetic about it. i made this at 2am so it’s not much, but its something! enjoy. 🤍
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you’d meet your love during one of his shows, where amongst the bunch of murky colors and studs that shined in the lights, you stood out. a lot.
hobie’s eyes immediately fell onto you, the frills and bright colors had him drawn to you. your hair adorned in ribbons and bows that bounced with every move you made, it was adorably cartoonish.
after the show, to your shock, he’s approach you. confused, you thought he had the wrong person. until, he opened his mouth.
“no no, im sure im lookin’ at the right one..”
those words would spark a romance that even his peers would raise their eyebrows at. studded bracelets and cold, blood stained rings meeting lace bows and brightly painted nails. it was a bit of a shock.
then again, hobie doesn’t believe in consistency! especially when it comes to his romantic partners.
he adored you. like this man will internally melt at the sight of you.
sometimes, you’d let him tie your ribbons into your hair. in return, you decorate his wicks with cute hairclips! he acts like he hates it, but he fucking loves it.
mixing accessories became the norm for you two. a cute, bubbly outfit would be complete with heavy combat boots and a patched up denim vest.
meanwhile, hobie would wear your homemade bracelets with cute charms and messages on them! his wrist would be adorned with sweet little words like “ily! <3” and “kiss me! ~”
he’s call you loads of nicknames that he knows makes you weak in the knees. “doll”, “baby”, “love”, and “sweet thing” would always come out of his mouth when he talk to/about you. <3
steal his clothes! it doesn’t stop at accessories, he loves seeing you in his clothing. how much larger they are on you, and his shoes making you feel taller. your more cutesy demeanor clashing with his rougher style makes it all the fun.
pubs used to intimidate you, but not anymore! hobie’s arm would be wrapped around your waist, holding you close enough where your bodies practically were touching. you felt safe in his arms, knowing no one will even think to try you! not with hobie around. <3
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moralesluvr · 11 months
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Helloo✋🏾 I know it’s late af but I just wanted to get this request off my chest lol. May I request a hobie brown x reader where the reader is doing a “don’t kiss me” prank on him? Just a funny thought
'don't kiss me!' prank ft. hobie brown
♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x fem!black!reader ♡ summary: you see a prank that a girl pulled on her boyfriend from tiktok, so you decide to try it on hobie ♡ warnings: very sad pouty hobie, reader being a bit of a meanie ♡ a/n: i loved writing this! thank you for your request! ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡
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YOU KNEW IT WAS WRONG.
Okay, maybe not exactly wrong, but it was definitely morally cruel.
You had saw the TikTok while you were sitting on the toilet in Hobie's bathroom, chatting with him about any and everything while he showered. You decided to stay at his place because it was late and you had missed him, so you figured you'd just steal some of his clothes and sleepover for a night or two.
When the idea came into your head, you slumped back onto the toilet seat and pretended you were just watching videos about makeup so that Hobie wouldn't be suspicious.
"Can you hand me my flannel, lovie?" He requested, and you sighed at the use of his slang that you've had to pick up over the last six months. You grab his towel and throw it over the curtain rod. You hear him suck his teeth, "Why do you have to be so annoying, eh?"
You hum with a grin, "Dunno. At least I'm not boring."
Hobie pulls the shower curtain back, and you nearly bite your lip.
This challenge was going to be hard.
The towel that you handed him was wrapped firmly around his waist, his chest glistening to the water droplets that reflecting from the bathroom's cheap lighting. He walks over to you, ready to kiss you, but you stand up and cough. "Um...I'm..hungry. Yeah, I needa' snack."
"Did you not just see what I was tryna do?" He almost pouts, following you into the kitchen, "I wanted to kiss 'ya, then you left."
You grab a bag of chips from his pantry, sitting down at one of his island stools, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't notice."
Hobie hums at you, walking back to his room, "Whatever."
You were sure that you had already made him upset. He wasn't always in a clingy mood- actually, mostly rarely- but when he was, he was upset if he didn't get what he wanted.
And although you did feel like you were being mean, you needed to get the prank on video to show him, and to laugh at later. So you rose from your chair and ran after him into the bedroom. He had on simple black pajama pants and no top, his hair pulled up in a bun. He was fiddling around with his guitar while sitting on his bed, so he didn't even notice when you propped up your phone and pressed record on your video app.
You winked at the camera when you did it, sliding onto the bed with him. He stopped playing.
"So why can't I kiss you?" Hobie asked, "Does my breath smell bad? Swear I just brushed 'em, love, so I know that isn't it."
"It's none of those things," you assure him, tapping your nails on the outskirts of his guitar. Usually he would flip if someone did that, but with you, he didn't really mind.
You saw him lean closer to you, and then his eyes start to close, and you rested your palm on his chest as you pushed him away. He gives you a watery-eyed look, "Okay, Y/N. D-Did I do somethin'? Because you're not wantin' to kiss me at all. Talk to me, yeah? Please?"
His big hands are cupping either of your cheeks as he looks at you intensively, and you can't help but break. You lean in, your lips connecting with his. You expect the kiss to be warm and light, but Hobie had a different motive. His right hand left your cheek as he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to deepen it. A satisfied sigh leaves you as that same hand finds one of your braids. He twirls it in his fingers, pulling away from you, "So now you want to smooch me, hm? What's the matta'?"
You laugh, your head being thrown back at how humorous the situation was to you. Hobie's straightfaced, though, and he's not laughing when you look up again. You cup his cheek, your other hand pointing to your propped up phone, "Look, baby, it was a prank!"
Hobie gives you a playful slap to the shoulder, "Don't do that again, love, yeah? Was bloody painful."
You laugh, leaning in as you kissed your boyfriend.
"Don't worry, I won't." You smiled.
And maybe you wouldn't deprive him of kisses again, but when the time came, you'd definitely be playing more pranks on him sooner rather than later.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!
𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996
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eyesxxyou · 7 months
Text
Backstage Show Pt.3
★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader
rating. m
word count. 3.5k
synopsis. hobie invites you to hang with him and his band for your birthday. They have the birthday present planned for you
or
hobie lets his band have their way with you
🍒・.❕warnings. the sexual tension is palpable, lots of group teasing, group is just different versions of Hobie's concept art, voyeurism (sex in front of hobie), clothed sex, ass eating (f receiving), fingering, praise, three on one, kinda foursome, titty play, making out with multiple people, hobie has a bit of a god/ superiority complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr
backstage show pt.1 | backstage show pt.2
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Hobie had you on a leash. Metaphorically of course but you'd be more than happy to make it physical if he so desired. From that first night, you were hooked, waiting on every beck and call, obsessed was too light of a word to describe it. Fanatic maybe, in dire need of therapy is another option because you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you and he knew it.
Hobie took advantage of it in minor ways, asking you if you might send him pictures knowing that you would without so much as a second thought. He could ruin your life with pictures like that in his possession, your fingers in your wet pussy just like he instructed, so down bad that your own self preservation for any future endeavors was thrown out the window. But he had proved that he at least cared somewhat for you reputation and not getting you fired from your job by hiding your face from the tabloids when the two of you were caught fucking in an alley.
You were madly in love. Any fan would be if they were regularly fucking the person they idolized, the parasocial feelings you had suddenly becoming actualized and recognized by the one on the receiving end of it.
Never once did you try to place a label on things and Hobie appreciated it, you could tell. So often people will want to rush into trying him down to something he never really agreed to. You never tried to call yourself his girlfriend or claim him as your boyfriend because you were just happy to have him in any way he would allow. Maybe that’s why he was so comfortable letting you stick around, because you knew your place and didn’t infringe on those boundaries.
You were thinking about the long game, really. Not just the momentary gratification.
Hobie texted you after nearly a week of radio silence. For a moment, you feared he might be done with you even after the two of you stayed up texting into the early mornings about music and life, and all sorts of things. You ran through your messages time and time again trying to decipher if he had given any signs that he was upset with you. None were apparent. You told yourself that he was just busy to soothe your nerves and when you received his text, he didn’t address his absence. However, he did address something else of import.
Happy birthday, luv. You wanna come over?
Something you had offhandedly mentioned, something as important as you birthday, he took the time to remember. Even when you, who was too busy worrying about him to even remember, didn't.
It was hardly even a question you had to consider. You had tossed on a nice outfit as quickly as possible, did your hair and makeup. You grabbed your bag and left the house for the subway while asking him for the address. So quickly you had forgotten about him ignoring your text because you knew that in some way he was thinking about you and you were just lucky to even be acknowledged by him.
That’s how you got here, at this little building that was rundown but cozy, just how you liked it. The entrance was round the side and the door was left unlocked for you. You pulled open the rusting metal door gate before walking inside. You could hear the music from upstairs as well as the laughter emanating from the men and followed it up to their studio.
“There she is." Hobie's lead guitarist, Mace motioned to you as you entered the room. “Told ya she’s the punctual type.” He nudged Hobie who sat beside him with a joint. Their studio was a dim place, layered in a perpetual haze of smoke only illuminated by a red LED light in the corner. There were posters and decorations all over the wall, some spray painted art on the East wall. The boys were lounging around, listening to music while either drinking or smoking.
They were all beautiful and you’d have your pick of any of them, or rather, all of them if you could. Mace, the lead guitarist with his long locs he usually kept in a half up, half own style decorated in gold cuffs. He was cool, occasionally playful, and spent most of his time while you were around teasing. Cass, the rhythm guitar and backup singer, kept his locs in a ponytail with the font out and down his face. He was the quieter type, didn’t talk much, but he was kind when he did talk.Then there was Eli, the drummer, loud, eccentric with hair to match in streaks of white and red. He had the prettiest eyes, one blue and one brown. He was the one who brazenly flirted with you in front of Hobie.
But there was a way they all looked at you. It’s not surprising seeing as your very first interaction with them was getting fucked in front of them while they jerk off to it. Sexual tension was implied with an interaction like that.
Hobie smiled at you as you entered. “There’s ma girl. Com’ere, luv.” He motioned you to him with two fingers and you came. You slid into place beside him and he kissed you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and his fingers tracing the curve of your delicate jaw. He kissed you like he knew you were in love with him, always kissing with just enough passion to keep you on the hook but never enough to make you believe that you’re entitled to claim him in any sort of way. "Happy birthday, baby."
“Aw, I don’ get to have a kiss, doll?” Eli came over, placing his hands on the back of the couch on their side of your head as he leaned in close to you. You hesitated, your eyes widening as you look at Hobie for what to do. He doesn’t give you any reassurance nor does he show any sign that he’s upset about the question. He just takes a drag from his joint while the other two see what you’ll do.
On the other side of the room, Cass sat strumming to the melody of the song playing over the hidden speakers on his guitar. “Don’ look so fuckin’ terrified. He’s jus’ pullin’ ya leg, dove.” He scratched behind his gauged ears, his upper lip pierced with fanged angel bites pulling into a lopsided grin. "Happy birthday by the way."
Eli sighed and fell onto the couch beside you, tossing his arm over your shoulder. You were wedged between him and Hobie, both of them with an arm around you as Hobie passed his joint to Eli. Oh the things you thought about. All the ways they could manhandle you into any position they so desired. They could pass you around like that joint they have and you’d have absolutely no qualms with it.
“Nice shirt. You make it ya’self?” Mace leaned over Hobie’s lap to get a good look at your crop top with the band’s signature and “The Mary Janes” written in bleached letters. You nodded. “Took me forever to figure out what kind of design I wanted to do but yeah.” You find that he's looking hard. Your shirt is tight, leaves nothing to the imagination though it's not like they haven't seen you in various positions. He's checking you out hard. They all are in their own way and it's nothing new but it flusters you every time.
"Stop starin' at 'er tits, pervert." Hobie jabs him in the chest with his elbow and earns himself a tug at one of his wicks in return. They squabble like siblings, bickering between themselves while Hobie moved his hand to your thigh subconsciously. You're wearing a low-waisted black maxi skirt with platform boots. A simple outfit your haphazardly tossed together in the moment to get out of the house as quickly as possible.
Eli places the joint in front of you as it sits between his long, slender fingers. "You eva smoked before, doll?" He asked in a hushed whisper beside your ear. You look up at him. “Once when I was younger. I didn’t like it all that much… but I’d be willing to try it again.” He huffs out a laugh at this and hands you the joint to take a drag of it. The smoke immediately makes you cough and your face twist up, nose scrunching in slight disdain. Cass laughs at you lightheartedly from across the room. “Maybe smokin’s jus’ not for ‘er.”
You hand it back to Eli who laughs as well, placing the joint back between his lips. “Mmh,” He hummed softly, “tha’ strawberry?” He could taste your lipgloss on the tip, savored it a little before taking a drag. “Like ma girl’s with a lil’ flavor.”
“I’m not your girl though, am I?” You say this still while leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him with the smallest hint of a smile. Sometimes you took it upon yourself to flirt with the others. It’s not like you an Hobie are an official thing, you two are free to flirt with whoever you so please (though you’re sure if he were to give the attention he gave to you to someone else, you’d lose your shit).
“Sure ‘Obes wouldn’t mind sharin’, would ya ‘obie?”
Hobie stopped his wrestling with Mace to look at his sporadic drummer then at you. “Don’ usually like sharin’ ma tings… but I also don’t believe in consistency.” He glances at you, something mischievous brimming on his lips as he leans in and kisses you, his hand comes to cradle your neck, his thumb rubbing over your throat. “She’ll always know who she belongs to at the end of the day, won’t you?” You look him in the eyes and nod.
"Das ma good girl." Hobie hummed softly and pecked you one more time. "My bes' girl. I gotta surprise fo ma favorite." Your chest swelled at his praise and the thought that he thought enough about you enough to gift you a surprise.
Hobie got up from the couch, leaving a dip in the cushion from not moving for so long. "Since it's your birthday and you must be tired just fuckin' with me all the time–" He made his way over to a recording panel, plopping himself down in a spinning chair. He was joking knowing you could never get tired of him. "So, the boys offered themselves up. Let them make you feel good, birthday girl, if you'd like. No fucking or blowjobs in return."
You never thought you'd be in a position like this, surrounded by the most beautiful men in the world and they were offering themselves up to you for your pleasure. For your birthday.
"I-I don't know…are you okay with it?" You wanted to, you wanted their hands all over you, wanted their mouths in any way you could have them but you had a creeping suspicion that this was all some elaborate test to see if you really were loyal to him. Hobie didn't like sharing his things. He already made it every clear.
"Baby, that's up to you. I only agreed as long as I was there to watch." Hobie looked at you for a moment, the way you sit squeezed between the large, warm bodies of Mace and Eli. Cass had put down his guitar and stood up. “You said ya good wit’ us sharin’ ya girl here?” He made his way slowly over to the table and around it.
"No but how could I deny my girl on her birthday?"
It was like their minds ran in parallel with each other because they all had that same look on their faces. Mace and Eli turned in to you and you felt even more trapped between the two of them and Cass standing right in front of you, looking down at you with a smirk ghosting over his lips.
It was intimidating to be trapped between three men so beautiful you felt you might pass out and they all looked about ready to devour you. What a dream it would be to be splayed open, let them pass you round, take their turns with you until you’re all dumb and fucked out. Then you want Hobie to hold you, tell you you did an amazing job while he cleans you up.
It was Mace who kissed you first. Softly at first to ease you into it. You panicked a little admittedly when he pulled back, immediately looked to Hobie for some kind of approval of the situation but he completely left it up to you to decide that for yourself. Fuck you how and who you’d like, at the end of the day the two of you had no commitment to each other. He took another drag and crossed his legs, waiting. Plus, he wanted you to accept his gift to you.
You turned back to Mace, everyone waiting to see what you might choose, all willing to back off if you gave any indication you didn’t want any of this. It takes you a second that in the moment, you have all the power and if feels fucking amazing. You kiss Mace again and that give the signal for all of them to attack.
So many hands are on you at once, tugging at your clothes, grasping at your skin, removing as much as they could to expand their access to you. It’s almost overwhelming how quickly they leave you exposed and whimpering. Cass is on his knees, his large hands grasping your thighs while Mace and Eli trade places. Eli's much rougher when he kisses, his tongue demanding absolute submission from yours, his teeth sinking into the supple flesh of your lips. Mace busied himself with those pretty breasts of yours, his long fingers playing with the pebbled peak of your nipple while his lips latch onto the nipple of your other.
"Be gentle. Don't like ma tings broken, mates." Hobie makes eye contact with you and smirks. "Go on an' slut 'er out. She's a stupid cockwhore anyway. You-" he finally speaks to you like you aren't just an accessory in the room. "don' you dare take ya eyes off me, got it?"
Your only confirmation was obedience. Your eyes remained on Hobie even as Cass's lips kissed the lips of your pussy and his tongue dipped to test the waters. Even as Mace tortured your sensitive buds with his own tongue and fingers, pinching and nipping and teasing to no end. Eli’s lips teased at your neck, feasting on the way your breathing hitched at every overstimulating touch.
Hobie was relaxed, not threatened in the least by the way you could hardly handle the sensation of all of them on you. Cass’s head was slotted between your thighs. He took his time to explore, spit on your pretty little pussy like he intended to claim it. Eli helped him out, his fingers playing in Cass’s mess, teasing at your clit while his mate's tongue went back and forth between your little cunt and the taut ring of muscle of your ass. Cass kept your legs pried open despite how your muscles fought to cover your modesty and hide from the overbearing nature of their stimulation. Together, they had your pussy trembling.
Mace fondled your breasts in his hands obsessively. You wonder how many times in all of this he's thought about tit-fucking you. Maybe from the moment Hobie first brought you around. He left red marks against the brown of your skin, all destined to blossom into roses of blue and purple.
"H-Hobie." You moaned his name like he was the one with his tongue in your cunt and his fingers playing your swollen clit like a fiddle. It seemed he was enjoying the show from where he was sitting. "What is it, ma pretty girl? You enjoyin' yaself?"
Enjoying yourself was an understatement. They were making your pussy sing, playing you like a fiddle. Mace was teasing your nipples raw and you were sure you'd simply combust at any moment. You could only whine in response, looking at Hobie as he smiled and continued to talk you through your pleasure. "They've all been wannin' to fuck you for a while now, you know tha'? All they talk 'bout afta ya leave."
You could feel Cass chuckle against your clit while his tongue swirls between Eli's soaked fingers. "Have 3 holes 'n a nice pair of tits fo a reason." He spits on your clit again, making a mess of his bandmate's fingers and your pussy before dribbling down the underside of your pretty little asshole.
"Oh the ways we've thought 'bout usin' you, lovely." Mace added on with a rumbling chuckle of his own as he kissed down your diaphragm. "How we talked 'bout takin' turns fuckin' this magical cunt Hobie was goin' crazy ova."
"I talk high praise ova ma girl." Hobie murmured from the side as he took another drag. "Bes' pussy this side of the Atlantic."
"Tas'e like heaven." Cass murmured against your saliva-coated pussy while Eli continued to pinch and flick at your clit. Your pussy is pulsating, you moans growing in volume and cadence. Mace's lips are on yours again, his tongue exploring yours and savoring your taste, his long, skilled fingers teasing their buds of your nipples.
There was a thin line that separated Heaven from Hell, blissful pleasure from soul-crushing pain and you walked that line like a tightrope, wobbling a little into each from time to time but never fully surrendering to one or the other. All those hands, all those tongues, Hobie’s piercing gaze as he watched them have their way with your body. Cass’ tongue soothed the ache of Eli’s aggressive fingers, Eli’s lips kissed the bites Mace left on your body, Mace cooed at how well you were for them all while Cass went places only Hobie has ever known.
And Hobie— he was there to watch you fall apart completely and utterly. He took a drag from this joint before leaning forward to tap off the ashes as he stood. Your eyes were trained on him, muscles quivering from the onslaught of pleasure seizing them but you’d such a good girl that you never take your gaze from his pretty, slander frame.
He stood before you, partially over Cass who ate your pussy like a starved dog, lips wet with your slick ad saliva. Mace moves his hot mouth from yours and focuses more on your abused tits, littered in hickeys and bruises, nipples erect and slightly swollen from stimulation. Eli slipped his fingers down your smutty pussy and teased at the entrance of your cunt accompanied by Cass’ tongue. He used the heel of his palm to rub your clit as he sled his two long digits into your dripping pussy causing you to gasp sharply.
Hobie reached out, taking the opportunity to slide his thumb onto the wet pad of your tongue. “Close.” And you closed your lips around his thumb, suckling softly as you moaned in pleasure. You were so close to that high you sought everytime you were with Hobie. You looked up at his with those large eyes of yours, your body spasming as your tongue rolled against his thumb.
“You gonna cum, doll?” Hobie murmured at you, taking another drag as he pussed his thumb further into your mouth and down your throat until you gagged, your throat constricting. You nodded vigorously, your hips bucking uncontrollably against Cass’ face and Eli’s hand. Your hands were in Mace’s hair as he reached down and replaced Eli’s palm with his fingers now testing your clit. Your pussy jolted, throbbed with the beginnings of a climax as you moaned against his tongue. You drooled, Cass hands push your legs apart as you attempt to close them around the many fingers and single tongue against your cunt.
“Go ahead. I know they’re dying for it. They want my pretty, birthday girl to feel her best.”
Tears pricked the ducts of your eyes as your orgasm crashed down on you. Your cries were muffled by Hobie’s thumb as he weighed the pad of it down against your tongue. Your muscles spasmed, back arching off the couch as you shook. You kept looking at Hobie under the red LEDs and through the smoke from his mouth like a good girl, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on yours.
When he pulled his thumb from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you, he ran the pad of his thumb across your southern lip and cooed at you. “My girl.” You feel back against the couch, fucked out and sleepy while they one by one retracted themselves from you, starting with Cass, then Eli, then Mace.
“You’ve ou’done yaselves, boys.” Hobie came and sat beside you, pulling you into his lap while you trembled against him. His fingers ran circles along your inner thing, growing nearer to your swollen, used heat until his fingers her dragging through the cum and saliva Cass left behind. “Ain’t this the bes’ birthday eva?” Hobie whispered into your ear and with your arms wrapped around his neck, you nod against his cheek with your lips pressed into his cheek.
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vampireimiko · 10 months
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omg! could you make a miguel fic were like him and reader are like mom and dad to hobie pav miles and gwen. miguel being the like strict dad n reader being the mom that defends her kids with her life n yells at him when he’s being to mean😭
protective mom mode: activate!
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warnings, none !! just the reader being protective over her kids 🦭
note, AGHHH i actually love this request sm but it's been sitting in my inbox for a while so i wanted to get it out, HOWEVER. i might add on more to this scenario and make it sillier :3
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If there was one thing everybody around Spider-Society knew, it's that Miguel was super strict and almost always being serious. He was known for being harder on younger spider people. While you were the polar opposite, you were nice and understanding, and loved to joke around from time to time. You were known for being someone younger spider people could come too.
So with that being said, the younger spider people, as in Miles, Pav, Hobie, and Gwen could always come to you for safety whenever Miguel was about to scold them. For example, just yesterday Miguel was about to get on all four of them for almost jeopardizing a mission.
"Miguel we understand what you're saying but-" Gwen started only get cutoff by Miguel who has his hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face.
"No! You clearly don't understand! You 4 show me time after time again that you can't be trusted going on a mission together because all you do is-!" Miguel is then interrupted by YOU this time. Except this time, he goes quiet by himself. Your presence was enough to shut him up whenever he got to talking crazy. Cause if there was one thing about you, you did not play about those kids.
"Miguel, leave them babies alone! They ain't did nothing wrong!" You intervened, not letting him get in another word of scolding in. Miles and Hobie couldn't help but stifile a laugh at your intrusion which caused Gwen and Pav to bump shoulders with the two while also trying to stop themselves from laughing.
Miguel's eyes narrowed at your interruption, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his expression. He knew better than to argue with you when you adopted that protective stance towards the 4 younger spider kids.
You stepped forward, placing a hand on Miguel's arm in a gesture of both reassurance and defiance. "Look, I get it, Miguel. You want to keep them safe, and that's admirable. But they're still learning, and they need room to make mistakes and grow. We were all in their shoes once."
Miguel let out a sigh, his initial frustration giving way to a more measured contemplation. He glanced at the group of 4 once more before finally nodding, acknowledging the truth in your words.
"You're right," he admitted, his tone softer now. "They do need both sides of the coin. I'll work on finding a better balance."
A collective sigh of relief escaped from the younger spider people as they realized they had been spared from a severe scolding. They exchanged grateful glances and offered you appreciative smiles.
"I know I'm right, now watch your mouth when you speaking my kids like that." You playfully said rolling your eyes. You then turned towards the group of four, "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"
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𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; FINALLY GOT ALL FIVE OF MY REQUESTS DONE 🫶🏾 opening requests up tonight methinks
𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
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kanmom51 · 5 months
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Came here for a bitch rant
Because I could and because I wanted to.
I'm going to say this.
Now that the cat is out of the bag, now that we all know that JM and JK are enlisting together, going to be joint at the hip during their 18 months of military service, all I want to say is:
I friggin' told you so!!!
Yes.
I did.
I told you they are ok.
I told you not to worry, that nothing has changed between them.
I told you so.
But if you still don't believe me, please explain how these 2 young men managed to secure an enlistment together, as in going through the whole service side by side. And correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I know this is a first time this is done with an idol.
Only the two of them.
None of the other, as the ot7s will butt in to say, super close members.
If it's about either of their stability, safety, mental health (and not about how close they are and need each other), how is it that out of all of the members it's ALWAYS the two of them? How is it that RM isn't the one to go with JK? How is it not Tae or Hobi with JM (the best friend and 'soulmate' - yes, I did that)? But it's not, is it? Because it's about JM needing to be with JK and JK needing to be with JM. Period.
And if you don't see that, if you don't understand that, well, yeah, I guess either you are purposefully evading it (will talk about that one) or are just plain %$^&*.
Also, have to say this as well.
Now that we know that not seeing them over the past months together meant absolutely nothing about their relationship. This whole process and getting this approved, it takes time. If they haven't been wanting this for a long time and if they still at present didn't want this, well folks, it wouldn't be happening. They want this. They NEED this. And let me tell you something (been a lot of that going around today), knowing this is happening, them being together through this all, with the plus of Jin being around for the first 6 months, means that as far as they are concerned, I will definitely be sleeping well at night. Of course I would rather none of them had to go to the military, but this, my friends, is what we can call maximizing the best of a shit situation. I can sleep well at night knowing JM will be safe (we all worried about his safety, let's be honest) and JK, well, the thought of him without JM by his side. His anchor, his safe place, his catalyst, yeah. I was worried. And now I actually have a smile on my face. Kind of had it ever since I heard this was happening. Every single time I thought about their enlistment over the past few days and everytime I will after they enlist. They are together!!!
THEY ARE TOGETHER!!!
Yes folks, you heard this from RM.
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Thank you oh wise leader for letting us know those two share a bed. Can you please shout it out for the ones sitting in the back?
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Oops. Sorry. I forgot.
But seriously, the way the two were flustered at the end. Priceless.
So yeah, I guess that was my bratty way of telling off "oh ye of little faith"...
Will this change things up in the fandom?
Well, do you really want to get me started on that one? Not sure you do. I guess I'll suggest you brace yourself for this one...
I will start by saying that my daughters are convinced. I mean, they have kind of been getting there over the past year with JK's lives and behaviour and their interactions when we got them. But this, well yeah, this is GIGANTIC. And if you don't see it, or won't see it, then it's a you problem, not a them problem.
I'm 100% sure there will be those that continue to ot7-fy their relationship. And don't get me wrong here, I'm an ot7 gal all the way. Love all 7 of them to bits. But whoever does not and will not see that JM and JK, their connection, their relationship is just different, well they have an issue. And they will continue with this. Because for many of them to admit that JK and JM are closer with each other than with any other member, to admit that they are even the best of friends, is super problematic. Admitting that throws them straight into the boiling water. Admitting that means seeing it all. Seeing everything (the physical and emotional and sexual behaviours between the two). And doing that means two things. First, admitting that the two are together together, as in a couple, as in actually have sex with each other (to the homophobes among them that is a big no no). Second, to those who have this need to glorify the 7, and not understand that within those 7 are seven human beings with relationship that are not equal to one another. JK and Tae's relationship is unlike JK's with Hobi or JK's with RM and so forth. But more so, having a couple in the mix in their minds is possibly the beginning of the end, which is damn stupid, cause these two have been together for years now and are more ot7 than any claimed ot7 out there (you know, those claiming to be ot7 who constantly ignore or overlook Jikook interactions or for the matter of it, overlook JM, period). So, I kind of predict that won't be changing.
The spin-masters (TKKs, Yoonmin's etc.), well, they will keep on spinning. But not because they don't see it. No. But because they do!! And they need these stories and theories and plain ass stupidities to try and explain it away. The fun part about this one is seeing how every single time their story gets blown up to smithereens by facts, much of the time coming from the members themselves, but also from Bighit or others.
So, to sum it up, nothing is going to change, lol.
Well, maybe, just maybe, some of the reasonable ones out there, those that don't have their feet planted roots deep in the ground, those that do have the ability of critical thinking, they might just see it for what it is.
And if they don't well, wait till those two's travel show comes out, cause from what I'm seeing (from them - depends how it's going to be edited, but then again, how much can you edit out?), it's going to be wild.
Anyways, I do think I'll be back to post about the live, but in any case, will use this opportunity to wish all four of them a safe enlistment. May their basic training go by as fast and as easy as possible (it's going to be so cold...), and may these 18 months go by as fast as possible, but how ever fast or slow they go, I hope they keep safe and can be as happy as possible while serving their country.
I, for one, can't wait for them to come out on the other side.
See your hectic asses for Festa 2025.
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cheonstapes · 6 months
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PLS I NEED MORE OF MIGUEL X SPIDER-BARBIE IT'S LITERALLY SOOO GOOD
miguel o'hara stars in... 'LET'S GO BEACH' 。゚( ゚^∀^゚)゚。
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a/n ~ TY FOR THE REQUEST DARLING💗!!!!! i love spider barbie sm, i'm gonna make this into a series! i did write smut for this so pls let me know if you want it! ╰(▔∀▔)╯
previously...
summary; miguel attempts to take you on a beach date - alone. apparently, you didn't get the memo.
wc; 900+
pairings; miguel o'hara x spiderbarbie!reader
cw; SUGGESTIVE!!, miguel gets hard, petnamesss, reader is a little shit, drowning?, miguel was a lifeguard once upon a time, teensy bit of voyeurism, naked in a public beach, fwb!, pining, miguel is just downbad man, nawt proofread - i'm kenough
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ok, so after the whole ‘massage’ situation - you and miguel had started this sort of friends with benefits type of thing.
he beats himself up everyday for not asking you out then, he’s happy he has you like this at least. but it’s not enough. so he devised a master plan to get to to finally go out with him. setting up an entire day at the beach with just the two of you, along with a cute romantic picnic and sundown. it was all perfect — well until they came. 
maybe he should’ve been clearer, i mean - he never told you it was a date. naturally, like the sweetheart you are, you invited the rest of your friends. ben, hobie, jess, peter — along with mayday as he couldn’t find anyone to watch her - it was quite literally the worst day of miguel’s life.
“what’re you all doing here?”
and you coincidentally forgot to tell them the person you were going to accompany was none other than the big boss, miguel. they probably wouldn’t have gone if you did, considering the way they frowned deeply when they saw him. you laughed nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. you were just too sweet for them to stay mad at, dismissing you with a wave of their hands — smiling as they tell you it’s ok! 
miguel still wasn’t happy though, his permanent scowl somehow even deeper as he trudged along next to you as you all found somewhere to sit. obviously, he put his towel next to yours — even helping you put up your cute little chair and umbrella. he even took the liberty to put your sunscreen on for you — he just wanted to cop a feel, don’t blame him.
it turned out to be more fun than he expected, not that he’d ever admit it — but a small smile would grace his frowning lips ever so often. you looked so happy, surrounded by all the people you love, running around in that flimsy, little bikini. yeah, you looked hot as fuck too. the heat was making him feel dizzy, but so was the sight of your beautiful body — tits barely contained by those scraps of fabric, your ass making that stupid bikini look like a thong. 
anyone could see he was turned on. his cock poking through the tightness of his trunks, his eyes constantly trained on you and you only. and when you came over to him, panting and smiling so sweetly, he was so ready to pin you down and fuck you till you couldn’t think of anything but him. “miguel! d’you know where i put that floatie thing?” he nodded, grabbing it out of his bag and handed it to you — hand lightly grazing yours. “you going for a swim now? it’s a little late, isn’t it?” 
“look, there’s basically no one in the water — it’s the perfect time to go for a swim, migs!” he tilted his head, sliming softly at you as he shrugged. “you’re not wrong, princess. you got all of that to yourself, hm?” you smiled cheekily, bending over in front of him, clasping your hands in front of you. “mm, if only i had someone to join me…” rapidly batting your lashes as he chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “yeah, you’re on your own, sweetheart — i’m fine here. why don’t you ask jess or something? ‘m sure she’d be more than happy to accompany you.”
he’s so annoying, but you can be too. “pleaseeee! you’ve just been sitting here, grumpy, all day. just come in for a few minutes and then you can go back to sulking, old man.” old man? he raised a brow, smirking slightly — he pushed down his sunglasses, leaning back on his sun lounge. “sounds nice, princess, but i’ll pass. i was a lifeguard once, someone needs to save your ass incase you drown or somethin’.”
and drown you did. 
kidding! well — sort of?
miguel’s heart was beating faster than ever. he shot up as he heard you calling out for him, your body flailing in the water. the beach was practically empty at this point. the rest of the group had gone home, leaving you and miguel to finally have the beach date you were supposed to. but he didn’t expect this. he dived into the water, pulling your body up to the surface. “you’re ok, cariño, i got you. breathe for me, just breathe.” he stroked your face, cooing softly as he tried to calm himself down too, telling himself you’re ok.
you got tired of playing around after a few minutes, springing up like nothing happened. you grinned at him, as if you didn’t almost give the poor man a heart attack. “you should be a life guard again, watching you dive in like that was really hot.” he blinked at you, mouth hanging open. he growled lowly, “you think you’re so funny, ¡ay pillín! i thought you drowned!” his face was heating up, frowning deeply as he didn’t want you to see how badly he cares about you.
“aww, ‘m sorry. i couldn’t think of anything else to get you in the water!” he sighed, smiling softly as he put a large hand on your cheek — pinching the wet flesh. “yeah, whatever. don’t pull some stupid shit like that again.” he warned. you nodded in compliance, wrapping your arms around his neck. “wellll, since you’re here now… swim with me?”
he was about to agree, albeit reluctantly, before something under the water caught his eye. there’s no way he only just realised, so caught up in saving you that he didn’t see that you were literally naked. pink fabric floated behind you, riding the waves as he smirked down at you — reaching up to pinch your exposed nipple.
“missing something, princess?”
-cariño - sweetheart
-¡ay pillín! - you little shit/naughty (sorta interchangeable)
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-mmmmm, what if they had.... water sex....? hmmmmmm.....
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kairiscorner · 8 months
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omds i luvvvvvvv your writing so much 🤭🤭 could i req a earth 42 miles or a hobie brown fic where reader gets bullied for dating miles/hobie (whichever one u pick 🖤) because people think she’s “not good enough for him” because she’s like one of the quiet kids she doesn’t go to like parties and stuff like that she’s always studying and that kinda stuff and miles/hobie finds out when one of his friends confronts him ab it (you can write this however u like!!!!) and he talks w reader and stuff just a bunch of htc!! 🖤 thank you sooooo much
OH DAMN, sure thing anon !! i am just like y/n fr it's just that i don't have bitches 😭😭😭 but i hope u like this rahhh !!!
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
they're more than worthy of me. – miles 42 x reader
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nobody ever has a perfect life, let alone a perfect love life, but when you were with miles, everything felt just right. he loved you with a love that wasn't overbearing or possessive, he gave you your space when you needed it and supported you from the sidelines in every endeavor you dared to try. you didn't stand out much though, really, you blended in quite well into the background. you were used to not being recognized or acknowledged immediately, and you were fine with it—though you were confused why recently, a few of your classmates were acting a little mean to you.
you never harbored any ill will towards these people—as far as you were concerned, you doubt that more than half of these kids would even remember your name. every time you approached a classmate of yours for a question, they'd immediately walk away the minute you walked over to them, others would ask you in sarcastic voices if you couldn't even do something so simple with a smile that tried to get you thinking they meant no harm when in reality, they wanted you away from them. you couldn't even pretend and think that they were just busy or being realistic—that you should be able to do something as simple as the question to an activity that you were stumped on, but you couldn't—this was because a lot of those classmates of yours adored miles.
they liked miles and having his attention on them, angry if anyone else were to get his attention away from them. before you entered the picture, they were all over him—devoted and loved him like a friend, some had loved him in more than just a friendly way, but none of his friends and admirers in your class took it very kindly when they noticed you and miles getting along a bit too well back then; when you two became a thing, everything just got worse. miles still hangs out with some of these people, though he doesn't consider them his friends—tonight, he'd be attending a party of theirs with ganke, with you opting to stay behind and catch up on school works.
late at night, as you were finishing up your studying session, you got a text from miles, asking you to come down and meet him by your front door. you got up from your chair and walked down to your front door, and there he was, battered and bruised in the face—looking into your eyes with hurting in them. you asked him in worried stammers about what happened to him, who did this to him, if he was even okay. you checked his face all over, and when you saw the backs of his hands, they were reddened and scarred, you couldn't tell if the blood was his or someone else's, because you knew this was no accident that happened to him—he got into a fight, a serious one.
"miles, what happened?" you asked him in a shuddering voice, with miles bringing his red, bloody knuckled hands to your shoulders and wrapped you in his arms. he didn't answer you quite yet as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as his initial response. "how could they not accept that i love you?" he murmured as you gently placed your hands on his back, reciprocating his hug despite your confusion. "i... miles, what?" "ganke told me he heard a bunch of the guys at the party talking shit about you behind my back. i... i confronted them, asked them why they said what they said, but the last thing they wanted to do was cooperate and be honest. so i... i did some things i wasn't proud of. i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of people hurting you all for my sake–you deserve better, mi cielo..." he whispered as you pulled away from him, watching the tears form in his eyes as he frowned up at you amidst the cuts and bruises on his face.
you brought him into your house and sat him down on the couch, hurriedly getting him a first aid kit to treat his wounds. you wrapped his knuckles up in gauze, with him mindlessly following your hands with his gaze–him taking in all the gentle and softness of your touch. "i'm sorry, again, mi vida. i shouldn't... i should've handled it better." miles apologized to you again as you were tying up the gauze on his hand. "love..." you called out to him, placing your hand on top of his with concern and love filling your gaze. "i'm just glad you're alive and well. i wish you didn't have to get hurt or hurt anyone, but... i'm glad you love me enough to defend me like you did even though i wasn't there." you said in a quiet voice, smiling up at him with tears in your own eyes, matching the tears in his as he looked back at you and nodded, his lower lip quivering.
"i'd do it all again, and more, for you–mi cielo. i swear, you... you won't ever shed another tear... because of another person being an asshole to you–i can't not love you, cielo, i can't..." miles murmured with a cracking voice as he got more vulnerable. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close as he sobbed, muttering to you how he'd love you forever, that much would never change–no matter if the multiverse demanded you two cannot be, he'd make a world for just the two of you, even if everyone else would disagree.
tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @onginlove @euphovlq @meowmoraless
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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 months
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Everyone's opinion on Ghostflower
Peter B: Loves them, they are almost like his kids; especially fond of Miles, and wants to see them happy since the first day they met.
Pavitr: Absolutely enthralled by this love story, he knew something juicy was happening since he met Miles and wants to see how it ends.
Hobie: Has been curious about Miles since Gwen mentions him a lot, and as soon as he realizes he is cool he has been on board 100%.
Margo: "Oh they are a cute couple, I was just surprised Gwen was so jealous- Wait what do you mean they aren't dating already???" <- She thought they were a thing because Gwen wasn't subtle when Miles met Margo.
Rio and Jeff: Not a fan (for now at least,) RIP
Miguel: (Looks at you as if you haven't asked what he thinks of the anomaly who almost destroyed the universe and the girl who helped to blow another hole in the multiverse for spending too much time with the said anomaly.) <- The bane of his existence basically.
Jess: Very much telling Gwen to get over her crush without using those exact words because she wants to know none of this drama.
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deathbyyoongx · 8 months
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stuck with you; part 1 — myg
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╭ parts: 1, ...
╭ word count: 5.2k
╭ summary: After your best friend Hoseok told you you could stay at his place for two weeks, you couldn’t help but be more than thrilled. A studio in the middle of the city, away from home, and close to every club you loved to go to? It couldn't get much better than that. However, when you heard the news his roommate's plans got canceled, you soon realized you had to spend those two weeks together with none other than Min Yoongi. It wouldn’t have bothered you if you had to spend two weeks together with a hot guy, but unfortunately for you, you already knew Yoongi from high school. 
And he absolutely despises your guts ever since.
╭ pairing: yoongi x brat!reader
╭ genre: smut, just smut, okay maybe a bit off fluff, can't help it
╭ warnings: enemies to lovers, angry/stubborn yoongi, y/n is an aboslute brat but that's the usual in my fanfics, ex-friends from high school, he hates you but you don't really know why, back and forth bickering, drinking, hair pulling, name-calling, hate sex (?), spitting, hickeys, slapping, voyeurism, being stuck with a hot guy that secretly would love to fuck you for two weeks, ...
╭ author's note: I had to put some fluff into it, I couldn't help it. It's the hopeless romantic in me. Also haven't reread it (24/08) I'm tired.
btw, use InteractiveFics for a better reading experience ;)
“Are you sure about this, Hobi? I mean, the man despises me.” Today was the day you would stay over at Hoseok’s shared studio apartment. It was only a few rooms away from a full-on apartment, which you were not complaining about. The plan was, that both Hoseok and his roommate Yoongi would be on vacation, which meant that you had this lovely space all for your own. But of course, fate had other things in store for you when you heard that Yoongi’s plans got canceled. His friend got a bad stomach ache after eating at some shady place downtown, pity. If this news had come to you a few years ago, you would be more than thrilled. Yoongi and you used to be good friends in high school, so the idea of spending two weeks with him wouldn’t be anything to worry about. But ever since college…things changed between the two of you.
“Look, I promised you could stay over and you’ve already adjusted your schedule to it as well, so he’ll just have to get used to it. And besides, it’s not permanent, I’ll be back in two weeks. He’s usually in his room anyways, so he won’t be bothered by you too much.” Hosoek explained, trying his best to reassure you about the sudden change of plans. “Plus, he agreed to it so-”
“Yeah, when he was still planning to go on vacation himself. But none of us expected his plans to be canceled because his friend ate a bad lobster.” You felt bad for the friend, but at least the doctors said it would be alright. But still, now you were in this sticky situation.
“Yeah, that's very unfortunate.” Hoseok said pitifully. “Plus, how bad could it be” That’s when you both heard the sound of keys unlocking the front door, which made you turn your heads at the same time. While Hoseok didn’t change anything in his behavior, you on the other side tried your best to stay cool and not to think too much about it. But god, did this make you nervous. Especially since it has been a while since you’ve seen Yoongi. The last time you saw him, he was rocking that bowl cut, which did look undeniably cute on him, but that was already five years ago. Where did the time go? Now you were both in your early to mid-twenties, so you knew that he wasn’t going to be the same boy from before. So when the front door finally swung open, you were captivated by Yoongi’s change of appearance over the years. Fuck. He was painfully beautiful. He grew his hair out, and the back of it even touched his shoulders. He traited his bowl cut for a middle part, and fuck, did it look good. And even though he was only wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, you noticed how broad his shoulders had become. Yoongi briefly looked up, and that’s when he finally noticed your presence. It was of short due because your eyes only met for a second before he looked back down. “Oh, good. I was just planning to leave-” Hoseok quickly spoke to defuse the obvious tension.
“Enjoy your holiday, Hoba.” Yoongi quickly said before locking himself in his room. 
“Very bad, alright.” Hoseok looked at you, almost apologetic that this was the situation you had landed in. “Make the best of it.” Was the last thing Hoseok said before hugging you goodbye. He grabbed his luggage and headed out of the door. You just chuckled to yourself. If this is how Yoongi wanted to be me, let him. You were going to enjoy yourself, whether he liked it or not. 
Day one went by faster than you expected. The best option for you was leaving that grumpy man alone for the first day, letting him slowly accept the situation on his own. You just went to the bar with your friends, enjoying the fact that everything was so near to you now. You still lived with your parents, but you were slowly earning enough money to move out. It was just a matter of time. That’s why Hoseok did you the favor to stay at his place while he’s on vacation. He only suggested it because he knew Yoongi would be away as well, not knowing that his plans were short-due. Besides the fact that out of all people you were staying at their place, it’s the fact his expensive vacation got canceled that made him extra annoyed. Leading to situations like you bumping into each other, saying ‘hi’ to Yoongi, and him completely ignoring your ass. Nice. But today was day two. Another day of playing another game of: will Yoongi finally speak one word to me, or will he act as if I don’t even exist? Let’s find out!
So there you were, sitting on the couch Tuesday morning, eating your honey cereal as you were watching one of your favorite shows. The sound of Yoongi’s door opening up made your ears perk up, making you turn your head to the right to look at his sleepy figure walking towards the kitchen. "Good morning." You greeted, but without any luck of getting a greeting back. You child. “Hope you slept well.” You turned your head back to the television as you listened to Yoongi grabbing something out of the fridge and heading back to his room. “Great talk.” You said in a sarcastic tone, mouth full as you heard his door slam shut again. You knew he was a stubborn little guy, but you weren’t planning on giving up. Maybe he still needed some more time to cope. Yes, that’s obviously the answer.
[10:18] y/n: Joonie
[10:18] y/n: Wanna go on a coffee date with me?
Namjoon was one of your best friends, who is conveniently enough also friends with Yoongi. You could always go to him for advice or just a good time. I bet he knows what to do with Yoongi, right? 
[10:21] Namjoon: of course
[10:21] Namjoon: I’ll pick you up around 12
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“I tell you Namjoon, he just fully ignores my ass whenever I’m there. It’s like I’m a ghost.” As soon as you two sat down in the little café down the street and ordered, you started venting your heart out about this whole ordeal. “I’m real right?!” You started poking his cheek, making him scrunch up his nose and telling you to stop. It made you giggle.
“I just think he needs some time…maybe. He really started disliking you ever since college, you know.” Whenever Namjoon talked, he sounded wise. Even though he wasn’t that much older than you, he managed to sound like he had years of experience. “I never really knew why though, you two seemed to be good friends before.”
You took a quick sip from your coffee and quickly regretted it since you burned your tongue. “I know right?! It’s super weird. Besides Yoongi, is Hoseok the only one who knows, but he doesn’t want to tell me.” You sighed out of defeat and a pout formed on your lips. “I don’t remember having a fight or saying something inappropriate to him, so I have no clue what the reason is.” You took a moment to think and recollect your memories, but there wasn’t one that could indicate the reason for Yoongi’s sudden hatred towards you. You graduated high school one year after Yoongi, you went to college, and all of a sudden he stopped replying to your texts and avoided you at all cost.
Namjoon softly smiled as he gently placed his hand on your arm. “I know he’s stubborn, but he can’t ignore you forever. You’ll get through him one way or another.” His words were warm and sincere, making you feel more at ease about the whole situation. “Besides, you’re stubborn too, so I know the only option is for him to talk to you eventually.”
His comment made you laugh, ‘cause you knew it was true. “We’ll see.” You sighed. “I just feel bad for him that he needs to live with someone that he heavily dislikes. I wanna make it up to him, you know? One way or another.”
Namjoon thought for a second, stirring his little silver spoon around his coffee cup. “Maybe Hoseok’s knows what to do? You can always text him, he won’t mind”
A hopeful smile appeared on your face. “You’re right, but enough about me! How have you been? I heard you started writing a new book, that’s exciting!” After college, Namjoon started writing books. His first one wasn’t as successful as he hoped to be, but he had not lost heart, and luckily for him his last release was a hit. It’s kind of impressive how fast he could come up with new ideas. He also had a very poetic way with words, so to you it was just a matter of time until he got recognized.
“It’s going okay. I have a bit of writer's block, but I’ll get through it. And coming out of the house is fortunately one of the key factors of breaking it.” He smiled, his dimples shining through. The sudden buzz of Namjoon’s phone caught the both of you off guard. He fished his phone out of his bag, letting out an annoyed sigh as he read the caller ID. “It’s Jungkook, this is gonna take a while, sorry.”
Of course. Jungkook, your mutual friend, was known to keep himself busy with things that he knew he shouldn’t. You were just wondering in what kind of trouble Jungkook got himself into this time. 
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Day two wasn’t as successful either, but you weren’t planning on giving up. Besides, Yoongi and you used to be friends. Weird, right? Yeah, sure, it was high school, but you didn’t expect him to change his demeanor towards you that much. Besides, what could you have done to make him hate you so much? That’s why day three, you decided to ask for some help. And hey, the third time’s a charm, right?
[17:41] y/n: hobi istg this man doesn’t budge
[17:42] Hoseok: It's that bad huh?
[17:42] Hoseok: Maybe ask him to drink with you? I’ve never seen him say no to alcohol
[17:43] y/n: bet
Now you had a plan and all you had to do was wait until he got home. You just had to ask him to have a drink and he will finally be nice to you, easy right? So tonight, you decided to stay home, trying to socialize with Mister Grumpy. You were patiently waiting for him to get home as you were watching TV again. It was already 22:05, so he would arrive any minute now. So hearing the magical sound of the keys turning in the keyhole made you as ready as ever. “Welcome home, you wanna-”
“I don’t know why you keep on trying, but if it wasn’t obvious yet, I’m not interested in talking to you.”
Excuse me?! “Excuse me?” If Yoongi’s first sentence wasn’t enough to make you offended, his cold tone only added to it. Yoongi however, just ignored you again. He took his shoes off, took something from the fridge, and just went to his room again. You just scoffed before you yelled “Look, it’s only for two weeks. Then you’ll have your precious Hobi back.” But the lack of response made you even angrier. “It’s also not my fault your plans got canceled, so no need to be so mean!” You just pouted in your seat, not sure what your next move could be, if you even had that. Should you just ignore the fact that Yoongi was ignoring you? Absolutely not, you still had 11 days left with that bastard. So when day three arrived, you decided on a different approach. 
“Yoongi, can you-“ And with that, he closed the door in your face. Nevermind. You thought if you were more direct, he would finally be less of a jerk, but alas, you were wrong again. The weather seemed to be in your favor, however. It had been raining cats and dogs ever since this morning, meaning you were stuck with one another whether he liked it or not. You planned to stay in the living room for the entire day, so whenever he needed to leave to get something, he had no other choice but to be in the same room as you. But Yoongi wasn’t naive, he knew what you were doing. So this morning he grabbed enough resources to keep himself fueled for the day. The bastard.
But there it was, a sign from above.
It was already close to midnight when all of a sudden you heard a certain man curse every curse word you could imagine in the comfort of his own room. Not only that, but the living room light suddenly shut off, leaving you alone in the darkness with the only light source being the one from your phone screen. But before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Mister Grumpy had finally left his room. “Did you turn the electricity off?!” 
You couldn’t help but scoff at his accusation. “First of all, I don’t even know how to do that. Second of all, how dare you accuse me of such a thing! I’m not that desperate for a man's attention…” You nagged. “The power just cut off. I bet it’s from the storm from outside, but maybe you haven’t noticed it since you locked yourself in your room all day.”
“I have a window in my room you know-“ A loud thunder interrupted Yoongi’s sentence. “Jesus.”
You placed your phone away, looking sheepishly at Yoongi who was wearing an oversized black shirt and gray sweats that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. “I guess you’re stuck with m-” But before you could even finish your sentence, Yoongi was already heading back to his room. Oh no, I don’t think so. You bolted out of your seat and jumped in front of Yoongi’s door, blocking his entrance. “Not so fast!” Even though his annoyed expression was enough for you to move out of his way, this was just a perfect opportunity that you couldn’t let go to waste. “You wanna drink with me?”
Yoongi scoffed at your suggestion, crossing his arms as he spoke to you. “Why would I wanna drink with you?” 
You forced a smile. “Because Hobi says you like drinking and we are gonna be stuck with each other for some time.” You explained. “Besides, because of the weather the internet is cut off. So I need some sort of entertainment.”
“So you only wanna talk to me 'cause you are bored.”
This bitch. “Ugh, stop being such a drama queen. You’re the one who keeps ignoring me.” How dare he imply that you were the reason you guys haven’t properly talked the last four days? “Now sit!” You said in a demanding way, making him well aware you weren’t planning on backing down tonight. Yoongi just did as he was told and placed himself down on the couch reluctantly. Pleased with your accomplishment, you quickly headed to the liquor cabinet, grabbing the first bottle that seemed decent to you. You placed it down on the coffee table, together with some glasses, but by Yoongi’s expression, you could tell he was not pleased.
“You got the wrong one.” He spoke softly.
“What?”
“This is the cheap alcohol Hobi picks for parties and stuff. Wait-“ You and Yoongi switched places, you sitting down on the couch and he headed over to the liquor cabinet. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, quickly swapping the previous bottle with another one. “Here, this is the good bottle.” As Yoongi placed the bottle down, together with himself on the couch, a good distance away from you, you couldn’t help but notice it seemed a lot more expensive than the previous bottle. 
“You ignore me for days, but at least I deserve your expensive liquor.” You say backhanded. It didn’t help the he-hates-my-guts situation, but hey, you couldn’t help it.
He just scoffed as he poured a drink for the both of you. “Need to enjoy a quality drink if I want to tolerate talking to you.” He handed one glass to you. “Here.”
“Ah yes, of course.” That made more sense. You accepted the drink, waiting for him to clink it. “To a lovely night.” You said, forcing a smile again. You noticed he did the same before you clinked glasses, simultaneously taking a sip from your drink.
By the way you scrunched up your face as you took your first sip, Yoongi quickly realized that you usually didn’t drink stuff like this. “Not used to the hard stuff, huh?” He said in a cocky manner.
“Absolutely not.” You said, face full of disgust. “But hey, if it makes you hate me less-”
“I don’t hate you.” Yoongi quickly added, cutting off your sentence. “You just annoy me.”
You just laughed as you took another sip. “I guess that’s something.” The more you drank from it, the better it got. “Why though? We used to be friends in high school, but ever since college you started to act…different.” Yoongi didn’t answer, all he did was shrug his shoulders before he finished his drink in one sip, quickly pouring himself another glass. He was hiding something, but you didn’t know what yet. “Fine, don’t tell me then.”
“The fact that you can’t remember the reason why, makes my annoyance to you even more justified.” Yoongi explained as he was swirling his drink around. “But I guess you do have a weird sense of memory. Like that one time, when you forgot what color rose I gave you, but you seemed to have remembered I cut off the thorns so you wouldn’t prick yourself.” He said slightly annoyed. “It was lavender by the way, but I also don’t think you remembered the meaning behind it.”
“Wait, you remember that?” After all those years, Yoongi still remembered that? It was a very early memory of you two, you were both 15 at the time. It was Valentine's Day at school, and since you knew neither of you would have a valentine, you decided to be each others’. He gave you that lavender rose while you gave him a weird videogame that he was into back in the day. You were slowly sipping that nasty drink Yoongi handed to you as your mind was lost in a sea of nostalgia.
He tried to brush it off, not acting as if it was anything special. “Just a random memory I have.” But he couldn’t. “Or maybe I just treasured our friendship more than you did.” There it was.
You forgot to tell Yoongi you were a lightweight, so the dramatic gasp you let out was partially that dramatic because of the alcohol. “That’s not true! You were one of my closest friends.” An angry pout formed on your face. “But then you started to act like a meanie.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh, I was a meanie?! You were the one that started forgetting about me ever since she got into college.” 
“Heh?!” You could feel yourself getting more drunk by the sip. “You were the one who started ignoring my texts!” Yoongi’s lips parted for a second, ready to snap back, before closing them again. He was saying too much. There was a reason for his change of behavior, but his pride was the reason he couldn’t say it. “Yeah, now you don’t know what to say, huh?!”
“Whatever.” Yoongi mumbled as he took another sip of his drink, finishing it as well, making him pour another one. He wasn’t planning on staying sober tonight, especially after exposing his feelings too much.
The alcohol was starting to get to you, because the longer you started at Yoongi, the cuter you found him. You also noticed his cheeks were redder than before, but you weren’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or because of the alcohol. Unlike him, you couldn’t handle your liquor that well, making you say things like “You know, you’d be a lot cuter if you weren’t such a dick to me.”
Yoongi stayed quiet for a second, swirling his drink again as if he were searching through all the possible comebacks to that comment. “I thought assholes were your thing?” He scoffed.
You tilted your head out of confusion, mixed with a pout on your lips. “What makes you say that?” 
“Well, by all the guys you’ve been fucking, I can tell there is a pattern-” 
“Are you slut shaming me, Min Yoongi?!” You gasped, a bit over the top maybe, but still justified. “Never expected that from you, I’ve never been so disappointed.” 
Yoongi’s face turned a pale white, not expecting for this conversation to turn out this way. “No, wait-” You crossed your arms and dramatically turned your head away from him. “That's not how I wanted to come across.” 
That’s when you started to overthink this situation, which made a grin appear on your face, making Yoongi even more concerned. “Wait…so are you being an asshole because you thought that was my type?” His eyes were wide and his lips were tightly pressed against one another. He truly didn’t know what he just got himself into.
“No, not like-”
“Waaait-” You moved a bit closer to Yoongi and words escaped your mouth before your mind could fully understand them. “So, you saw me fucking a bunch of so-called ‘assholes’ and thought, lemme do the same? Didn’t know you actually liked me that much, Yoongi.” You teased.
“I think you’re looking a bit too hard into this-”
“So you were not trying to be my type?”
“Not intentionally, no.”
“What if I said that you are my type though?” 
The words came out casually, but you didn’t realize how impactful those words were to Yoongi. “W-what?” he stuttered.
“And not because you suddenly became a dick to me, just for clarification!” You quickly added, we wouldn’t want any misconceptions. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that second glass, what even was that drink? It sure wasn’t anything like the cheap stuff you got at the bars. You looked up at Yoongi and you could tell the red of his cheeks wasn’t from the alcohol. “Hehe, someone’s flustered.”
Yoongi’s body language had changed, he wasn’t as relaxed as a few minutes before, which was understandable. He was more tense and you could tell he was nervous all of a sudden. “You’re just saying things now.” Was all he could say, almost like a defense, like he couldn’t believe you just said that, let alone mean it.
Your sudden laugh caught him off guard. “Why would I lie about such a thing? You know me better than that.” You looked up at Yoongi, his eyes almost as innocent as a deer. His gaze was fixated on you and even though his mouth was shut thigh, you could tell more than a thousand words were going through his mind right now. “Ah, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, Yoongi.“ You leaned in ever closer, surprising him with how little distance there was left between the two of you. 
He couldn’t help but look away, this was just getting a bit too much for him. “You don’t mean that.” He said under his breath.
You pouted again as your eyes were studying Yoongi’s features. The way his black hair fell, the fluttering of his lashes, the rosy color of his cheeks, he really was a work of art. “Maybe I can prove it to you?” Yoongi’s eyes slightly widened at your suggestion, making him turn his head back to you. It painted a smile on your face. “What’s going through your mind right now?” You teased, noticing you piqued his interest.
His breathing got heavier, and you noticed the quick glance he took at your lips before he fixed them back to your eyes. “The same that’s going through yours, I hope.”
A smirk formed on your lips as you looked at his. “Is that so?” Yoongi wanted to say something back, but he couldn’t. “Is that why you’re so nervous all of a sudden?” You moved your hands up to his cheek, slowly caressing it with your fingers. “Because a lot of dirty things are going through my mind right now.” Yoongi seemed to be starstruck, unable to make a move. “You really can’t find your words, huh?” That’s when you noticed…“But your little friend says more than enough.”Your eyes drafted towards the tent in his gray sweats, making you smirk out of satisfaction at the sudden surprise. You moved your hand away from his face, laying them down on his thighs. “Can I?” You asked as you slowly caressed your fingers on his thigh, just inches away from his ever-growing erection. Yoongi took a deep breath before slowly nodding, almost seeming like he was fighting himself to give in. His response made your eyes twinkle, and you moved your hands up to caress his aching bulge. Your eyes were still focused on his’ as your hands were doing it’s own thing. You loved seeing his reaction to you touching him. The look of annoyance slowly faded into pure lust. His breathing got heavier with every caress your hand made, making his dick twitch out of response. Yoongi’s eyes moved down at your lips, almost looking desperate to have them against his’. “If you want to kiss me, then do it.” You teased. You wanted him to give in to his desires. You wanted him to admit it to himself how much he wanted you right now. And oh, did it drive him mad. You could see the hint of frustration in his face, his pride and desires were arguing, but one was obviously the winner since it only took him seconds before he leaned in to kiss you. His lips hesitated a bit to move as they touched yours, but when you were the one to start the motion, he had no choice but to follow along. You felt his hand creep in around your waist, pulling you in closer. A raspy moan left his lips since your hands had found their way underneath his gray sweats. “Nice to hear you haven’t lost your voice.” You whispered teasingly.
“Shut u-fuck.” With circular motions, you spread his precum all over his tip before giving him a hard stroke. “Please, y/n-” You never expected Yoongi to moan your name so desperately, but here you were. The man who had been ignoring you for the last couple of days was now more than desperate for your undivided attention. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you pressed your lips against Yoongi again, the sweet taste of his liquor still lingering. For a brief second, you let go of his twitching dick, leaving the comfort of the couch to sit on the ground, just the right height for easy access. You grabbed Yoongi’s sweats at its hem, dragging it down, making his erection even more visible. You were surprised by his size, making you even more excited to touch him. Saying you never expected to be in this situation would be a lie since you’ve fantasized about it multiple times during your college days. But unfortunately for the two of you, that’s when Yoongi decided to start ignoring you…
Yoongi’s eyes were fully focused on you, admiring the view you had given him. You tucked your hair behind your ear before grabbing his cock by its base, giving it a slow lick from there all the way to the top, without breaking eye contact. You circled your tongue around his tip before fully taking him in, making him let out a long heavy moan, almost sounding like a sigh of relief. Your hand followed the motion of your lips, starting out slow. The sound of you sucking Yoongi off in combination with his heavy breaths filled the room, which for you, was music to your ears. Occasionally, he would let out a small whimper, making you ever so proud of what you were doing. Yoongi’s head was thrown back in his seat, unable to continue looking at you as his hair fell in front of his eyes. He was getting lost in the pleasure, moaning your name under his breath mixed with cuss words. You removed your lips from his cock, making him let out a moan out of reflex. You quickened the pace of your hand as you kissed the inside of his thighs, eyes fully focused on him. “Don’t stop-” Managed to come out of his mouth as his heavy breathing became full of moans, making it clear to you that he was getting closer. You wrapped your lips back around him again, making him let out a raspy moan. “Fuuuck-“ You felt Yoongi’s hand finding the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair, moving your head even further down so he could enjoy the gagging sounds you made. “Just like that.” Like the good girl you were, you went along with the pace Yoongi had set for you, not caring that the tears in your eyes were ruining your mascara. “You’re taking me so well.” You looked back up at Yoongi, noticing he had his eyes back on you. How could your eyes look so innocently up at him as you were absolutely ruining him at the same time? “Where do you want it?” The twinkle in your eye and the lack of response as you continued to suck him off made it clear to him where you wanted it. He threw his head back again and the subtle twitch in his legs made it obvious he was nearly there. “Shit-I’m gonna-fuck-“ You made it hard for him to speak as you increased your speed, making it all harder for him to suppress his orgasm. A raspy groan left Yoongi’s mouth as you felt him filling your mouth with white ribbons of his cum. The feeling of it against the back of your throat made you whimper for a second, but you tried your best to clean it all up. But fuck, was there a lot of it. You tried your best to clean every drop of Yoongi, and when his dick left your mouth, it was already turning limp. You couldn’t help but smirk as you wiped the excess off of the corner of your lips, enjoying the view of Yoongi being absolutely worn out. Yoongi gathered the last of his energy to sit up straight, leaning towards you to kiss you again. “I wanna make you feel good as well.” He whispered in between kisses.
A menacing grin appeared on your face, however. “Hmh, no.” You whispered back before pulling away.
“Wait, what?!” Your answer made Yoongi snap out of his high, not sure why you would refuse his offer.
You stood up from off your knees, feeling them being red from sitting that long. “Maybe if you’re a bit nicer to me the next couple of days, I’ll let you. But for now, no.” You said nonchalantly and full of attitude, even though this didn’t seem to be in your favor, ‘cause shit were you horny. You walked away from the couch and towards Hobi’s room. “Goodnight, Yoongi.”
Yoongi was dumbfounded and confused for a good minute, not sure what just had happened. All he knew was that he wished had made you cum first.
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