Tumgik
#hobi imagines
alteringrealities · 2 years
Text
Him and I, and these heavenly drops
Jung Hoseok
Warnings: none
Genre: Fluff, portrayal of the beginning of a relationship
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I'm afraid we have to raincheck on this one, quite literally." You can't help but chuckle bitterly. Your pun is good, he won't deny, but it still cannot stop Hoseok's heart from cracking a little. "I'm so sorry, Hobi. I was as excited as you, if not less, for our night. But damn it! Out of all the days nature decided to stomp on our plans tonight?!"
You don't know about his dedication. His heart rate increases when he is about to suggest to meet anyway, that he doesn't care about rain, he's down to soak from his head till toes if he gets to see you.
"Another time, I guess?" He says instead. He couldn't say it. Then he proceeds to curse himself when he hears a faint, deflated 'yeah' from the other side. His fears get the best of him; But in his defence, he doesn't want you to think of him as some desperate lad, it was just your 4th date with him after all.
Melancholy spreads throughout his body as he stares out of the window, lightning flashes in the clouds. It's a beautiful sight, but the man dressed up in his finest clothes thinks the universe is taunting him after ruining his plans. He shakes his head and tosses his phone on the couch, heading to his room to change in his comfortable attire.
Hoseok knows how dangerous this game can be. The fact that he has a little bit less control when it comes to using his phone doesn't help either. "No," he decides firmly, "I will not check my phone, not tonight." He knows himself a little too well. He knows he'd re-read all the conversations he's had with you. He doesn't plan on getting even more miserable tonight.
But he's a man with feelings after all, he lets his mind wander off to a perfect night, him and you, under the bright stars, in an open restaurant, laughing your asses off. It's been half an hour and he's still there, lying on the couch, dreaming about you with his eyes open. Talk about the bad timing of the universe, power cuts off and the lights are out. He is left in the darkness, the only source of natural light is coming out of the big window by his couch.
A scoff escapes his mouth. Can his night get any worse? He doesn't even want to answer that.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
He locates the door with half of the illumination and half with his muscle memory. The sight that unfolds in front of him could make his heart burst, if he admits.
"I hope you have some candles!" A breathless giggle from you and a gesture towards your hands full of takeout is enough for Hoseok to believe in kindness of the universe again. Dare he says it, he has hope again.
"I never knew all this time I'm going out with an angel. A literal angel!" He pulls you in a warm hug, your cold body aligns along his thawing heart. You pull away, yet his hands are still wrapped around you. Tender as you are, a tiny brave part inside you makes you stand on your tippy toes and plant a kiss on his nose, leaving both of you blushing messes.
By this time the aroma of Italian cuisine fills his home and you two are on your feet already. Your phone with its flashlight on in your hand helping you place the bags on the mantelpiece while Hoseok gets the plates and the candles. Oh, how the turntables, now this man asks himself if his night could get any better.
After dining and wining with a little bit more intimacy, both of you knew the restaurant date couldn't make you closer like an impromptu candle light dinner. He feels more courageous than ever, hence only one blanket covers the two of you right now. His bravery makes him vulnerable as his fingers lace with yours, "How do I even thank you for choosing me?"
"Do you want me to be honest?" Your voice light as a flower petal matches the softness his eyes hold. He smiles, "Please, yeah."
"Choosing you comes to me like breathing, it's natural. I've never had to think about it twice. Even when I left to come over, it never even occurred to me that maybe you wouldn't like the idea of meeting me—"
"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I wanted to tell you that I can't give a damn about the weather, I still wanted to see you...but I didn't want you to think of me as clingy, you know..." He looks away, he labels himself a coward.
"Hey, look here." Your palm rests on his cheek and he obeys you. "I am just glad you're admitting this to me. I like this. I like you being transparent."
"Listen to me then," he shifts closer, if that is even possible, considering that you two are already tangled up in each other, "Be it a storm, flood, earthquake, end of the world...heck, even if it's a zombie apocalypse, I'd want to see you. I'd want to be with you and from now on I'll make sure nothing stops me, not even myself..."
He whispers the last word before his lips are on yours, molding into a slow kiss, full of emotions he's not afraid to show now.
Tumblr media
A/n: I apologise if it doesn't meet your expectations because i admit this is not one of my finest works.
Likes and reblogs are heartily appreciated. Your words of evaluation will also mean a lot 👉👈
This is a work of fiction, entirely born out of the author's imagination. Any resemblance of it to reality is purely coincidental
The work is under copyright ©️ of Thea. All rights reserved. No part of it may be reproduced or used in any manner without permission.
156 notes · View notes
bonvoyagenoona · 2 years
Text
#4 with a Smile | MYG, JHS
Tumblr media
Pairings: Yoongi x Hobi x Reader
Rating: 18+ / Mature / Explicit
Synopsis: A chartered flight on a private jet. Back-to-back meetings in skyscraping VIP rooms. Dinners with caviar as appetizer and dessert. Ferragamo soles touching nothing but plush, red velvet, from limo to hotel suite. For record label owner Jung Hoseok and creative director Min Yoongi, this is simply business as usual. So they’ll order their usual nightcap. And you’re more than ready to serve it to them.
Word Count: 6647 | read on ao3 |  Part of the Yoongi 3(0) for 30 series!
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: PWP, music industry!au, sex work, roleplay, rough sex, some degradation, slight nipple play, overstimulation, squirting, spitting, oral [m receiving / f giving, f receiving / m giving], threesome, group sex, spitroasting, voyeurism, exhibitionism, BDSM, one (1) pussy slap.
Author’s Note: My entry for the Suits & Ties collab! Thanks @sugakookitty​ and @hobisuniverse​ for hosting! Dedicated to @yuugehn​ for being so generous, kind, and encouraging — especially since you were the one who suggested I give this event a try! I really hope this Sope satisfies 🍽️
Tumblr media
Jung “Hobi” Hoseok is not a very patient man. But he doesn’t have to be.
He was more than patient as he gathered his daydreams up one by one over the years and stitched them together in a quilt of emotion, expression, and evolution. There’s no arguing that Daydream Records has become a monopoly, back deals and favors leading to Hobi essentially owning at least 5% and, in one case, almost up to 90%, of its competitors. But for as long as he and his right-hand man, creative director and extraordinary producer Min Yoongi, can get away with it, Hobi will keep dreaming.
Keep dominating.
He stands in the middle of the board room filled with cowards, all of them already shuddering, not even at the prospect of what he’s about to say, but that anyone clad in blue Louis Vuitton has anything to say to them at all.
He looks right at Yoongi, whose room-scanning eyes are as tight and intimidating as the black sapphire Armani leather jacket and pants seemingly painted onto his mother-of-pearl skin.
Yoongi glances back.
Behind him stand his direct reports, the rest of Hobi’s core team.
Kim Namjoon, head of Innovation, folds his gray, Prada-suited arms and tilts his head slightly to the left. His narrow, shrewd eyes see all from behind a pair of thin, aluminum glasses. Intelligent as he is handsome, Namjoon is responsible for helping Daydream Records artists to shape-shift, whether that means transcending into a new era, or a new sound altogether.
Kim Seokjin, head of Media Relations, sniffs quickly and looks expectantly at the crowd. Everyone in Seokjin’s life assumed he’d grow up to be a model, and weren’t surprised when he turned out to be one who was often swathed in Hermès and on the cover of Vogue, but they didn’t anticipate that he would also create models. Specifically, strategic ones that governed the Daydream Records approach to organizing album press releases, staggering newbie debut stages with heavy-hitter comebacks, and planning artist appearances and performances on talk and variety shows.
Park Jimin, head of Public Relations, swooshes his hair back, fluffy tufts of it separating in the middle and falling gently to the side. Everywhere his lithe, Chanel-dripping body goes, whispers follow. Ones of admiration, mostly, given his heavenly good looks. But also ones of intrigue. Jimin knows the truth behind every single industry scandal. He even helped to create some of them, especially in rare dips when the usual buzz that surrounded the Daydream hive was low.
Kim Taehyung, head of Content Strategy, brushes some lint from his shoulder. Nothing but his skin is allowed to touch his physical form, covered in Gucci from head-to-toe. He clearly disapproves of this office suite. But in truth, he just misses his office back home, somehow also littered with Gucci furniture and office supplies, and serving as the central hub for not only the music department, but the art and design departments, and all content peripherals, including magazines, webtoons, and, most importantly, movies and shows for online streaming platforms.
And Jeon Jungkook, a Balenciaga-wrapped whiz-kid who, at just 24, has already released seven chart-topping solo albums, single-handedly putting Daydream Records on the map, and parlaying his experience as the label’s first globally successful megastar, as well as his insane skills and hard-earned networking connections into his cushy position as head of Talent Acquisition. Every artist already wants to be him. They have to start by impressing him enough to get him to come to a show.
Hobi takes a moment to feel proud about this top-notch team. The team that he built. That his daydreams conjured.
He thinks about how they all got here. Yes, the top tier of the industry. But also, this moment.
A chartered flight on a private jet. Back-to-back meetings in skyscraping VIP rooms. Dinners with caviar as appetizer and dessert. Ferragamo soles touching nothing but plush, red velvet, from limo to hotel suite.
This is simply business as usual.
Hobi arches an eyebrow.
They blink, unimpressed, in response.
So, Hobi turns around and ends the meeting like he ends every meeting.
Savagely.
“If you don’t get this merger together within the next 24 hours, then you will never see or hear from me again.”
He tilts his head slightly.
“Ever.”
The cowards have already begun calculating how quickly the losses will turn into bankruptcy, and then, nonexistence.
Hobi’s eyes curl happily.
“Have a wonderful evening.”
 **
 “What a clusterfuck,” Yoongi grumbles.
He finally gets to collapse into the armchair in the central common room linking all eight rooms in the Presidential Suite on the top floor of this hotel. He takes a moment to take one deep breath, and then it’s back to work. His zippers jingle as he reaches over to the matching armchair next to him and picks up his laptop. He opens it and adjusts the external web cam attached on top to join the last call of the day.
“I’m livid,” Hobi sighs, slumping down in the matching sofa across from him.
The webcam rotates to follow his movement. Yoongi waves in front of the camera so that he can coax the lens back to him.
Hobi looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes for a moment and listening to Yoongi typing. Fast, but also quiet. Like a jar of mismatched, forgotten buttons being spilled. It’s comforting.
He lazily looks over to the far corner. “Not to mention, I’m still extremely pissed that every time we stay here, we have to pay for that extra, empty room.”
Yoongi continues to type. “Do you want me to look up your net worth again?”
Hobi rolls his eyes. And he sees the menu on the low, square, glass table between them.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“I could eat.”
“Should we ask the guys?”
“Everyone else is in for the night, it seems,” Yoongi observes, looking around at the five silent and locked doors around them.
Hobi’s lips curl into a pout. “The food at that place we went to really sucked, though, didn’t it?”
Yoongi shrugs. He sets the laptop on the coffee table and takes the menu, starting to peruse their selections. “What I really want is a drink.”
Hobi’s daydreams never let him down. His mind races quickly to more memories of the last time they were in this city. The last time they were in this hotel.
And the last thing that they ordered.
“A nightcap, then?” Hobi asks.
Yoongi opens his mouth to reply. Sarcastically, no doubt. Hobi could already see the “That’s what I said” already forming on Yoongi’s lips.
But after years of working side-by-side, Yoongi’s mind catches up way faster than anyone else’s. Sometimes even races faster.
So, in place of those sarcastic words comes one of Yoongi’s curling, knowing smirks.
 **
XX (1:42 AM): Location C. #4. With a smile.
Admittedly, you were kind of reveling in the idea of a quiet night in.
But Location C calls pay comically well.
And being called in so last-minute will translate into additional benefits.
 You (1:43 AM): ❤️
You stand. You stretch.
The popcorn bowl and murder mystery novel go on the coffee table.
You blow out your living room candles.
A quick shower, like always. Your playlist is interrupted with a series of ding!s carrying with them all the details about the appointment.
When you step out and wrap the towel around you, you pick up your phone and send heart after heart, agreeing with them all. Nothing you can’t handle.
Makeup takes forever, but with more experience, you’ve shaved off a good chunk of time.
An easy change, for once.
Chef whites atop black dress pants and black flats. You wonder when you last wore this outfit. And when you last washed it. You never wear it for more than about two or three minutes. There’s always so much to do.
The hotel is only a few blocks away, but given the late hour, a car is sent for you anyway. The cook with the muscles and the chin dimple winks at you when he lets you in the back.
You aren’t sure how he’s involved in all of this.
You don’t ask any questions.
You don’t really need the answers.
What you need is his dick in your pussy.
He gestures to a cart with a silver, covered platter, all ready for you. As you grab its handle and make your way toward the service elevator, you turn back, toss a “Thanks, babe,” over your shoulder, and blow him a kiss.
He grins and wrings his towel as he wipes his hands.
You wonder when you’ll finally get to fuck him.
The elevator takes you right to the common room door.
You leave the cart at the side and knock.
“Room service!” you call out.
You run your tongue over your teeth for a quick lipstick-food-and-everything-else check, before you forget. And you run through the details that you’re supposed to remember. What to say. How to say it. When. These guys are supposed to be in the music industry. They’ll appreciate your virtuosic performance.
Your pussy clenches at the thought.
From a sea of nighttime blue, two smoky eyes greet you.
They catch you off-guard.
The cook downstairs fades into a distant memory.
It’s been a while since you’ve been this intrigued. Work is still work, after all.
“You ordered a #4 with a smile?” you confirm.
He opens the door wider, but he remains in your way, his eyes running over you like yours are him. He looks good in leather. And leather always looks good on people who have its qualities. It keeps its shape no matter what. Even in danger. Most people get hung up on the danger part, but other people, people like you, know that leather’s surprisingly more protective than initially perceived. It’s not just about restraint. It’s also about freedom.
He finds it unfair that he can’t deduce anything about you. The chef’s whites are a nice touch. Shows attention to detail. Which he and Hobi have in spades.
Your pants look a little tight.
What does your ass look like in them?
He flicks his right temple back, deeper into the room. His lips barely move when he talks, so it surprises you, how full and deep his voice is.
“Inside.”
You wheel the cart into the room and survey your surroundings. No clothes strewn about. No trash. There’s an open laptop on the coffee table, and a couple of throw pillows are misaligned on the sofa, but that’s it. Whoever these guys are, they must have only just gotten in, or aren’t planning on staying long.
Two more eyes meet you. Brighter than the other’s. But just as discerning. If not moreso.
This one is staring up at you from the couch. At one end, his heels are propped up on the arm rest. At the other, his arm is bent behind his head. He readjusts it as he watches you with mild interest, as you approach the coffee table in front of him.
He presses his lips together when you bend down to lock the cart’s back wheels. Your fingers slide down each leg, folding your body in half, breasts falling up your chest as you tumble forward, their curves making themselves slightly known through your clean, white uniform.
You meet his eyes and pout slightly as you straighten. He narrows his eyes as you walk toward the cart’s front wheels to lock them next. When you bend over, you hear the man on the couch’s soles meeting the carpet, and his body sitting up. When you stand and straighten again, you see the man in leather who greeted you at the door, arms folding confidently as he gives an approving nod.
You turn around to face the man from the couch. He squints his right eye. Despite your immaculately firm, picture-perfect, and juicy ass, he isn’t completely sold yet. But that isn’t necessarily your fault.
“It’s been a day,” he says. When he speaks again, his voice is much, much firmer. Kind of scarily so. “Our order better be right.”
The silver platter rings out with a zing! when he lifts it from its tray.
One long, thick, bundle of rope.
One brand-new roll of silver duct tape.
One black leather ring gag.
And one full bottle of Yamazaki single-malt whiskey, with two shot glasses upturned on the closure.
The glasses clink against each other and the bottle as the man from the couch swipes it from the tray. He checks the year on the label. And then he says, “I guess this is acceptable.”
He takes the two shot glasses in his free hand and sets them on the cart. He starts to unscrew the bottle.
“Oh, let me do that,” you say, reaching out for the bottle.
But he the way that he turns and frowns causes you to freeze in place.
“Sir.”
“Huh?” you ask. Your voice sounds weak and pitiful.
He clears his throat. “Let me do that, Sir.” His eyes sear into the man in leather. “Yoongi, I thought you were clear.”
“You know me, Hobi. I’m always clear,” Yoongi answers, keeping his eyes on you.
Hobi turns to you. His frown feels like a gut punch. “So this is just an example of your lack of professionalism, then?”
You widen your eyes. “I-I, I was just trying to provide the level of service that we’re so well-known f—”
Hobi sounds so disappointed when he sighs.
The neck of the Yamazaki bottle taps the first shot glass. As he pours, he says, “I thought this might be the one thing that goes right on this trip. You usually deliver.” He tilts his head. “I’m losing patience for people who don’t deliver.”
You force a gulp of spit down your throat.
Hobi watches the muscles in your neck flex.
“Save it,” he tells you, before you even think about daring to open your mouth again.
He turns back to the table and pours the second shot.
When he raises his hand, you flinch.
Yoongi chuckles as he joins you at the cart, taking the shot glass in Hobi’s raised, outstretched hand.
They lock eyes as they down their drinks.
“Apologies,” you say, lowering your head, “I just—”
“Who told you to talk?” Yoongi asks, irritated. “You gonna mess this up even more?”
“No!” you exclaim.
Hobi frowns.
“I m-mean, no — ah — Sir!”
“Now you’re just being patronizing,” Yoongi says.
He sets his shot glass down on the tray with such finality, making sure that you know the end of that sentence is a period and not a question mark.
“I promise I’m not,” you snivel. “I’m just h-here to—”
“Here to do as I say,” Hobi snarls. “To do as I please.”
Yoongi takes Hobi’s shot glass and sets it down next to his before reaching over for the duct tape.
“Or, better yet,” Hobi says, as he removes and tosses his jacket to the side, “to fuck as I please.”
You only realize that some old throwback is playing from speakers hidden somewhere in the room. Or maybe one of the bedrooms, off to the side? The tone clashes with the moment. All the same, it’s violently interrupted by the sound of duct tape being peeled and ripped from itself. The sound is sharp. And rough. And somehow playful. Like saw teeth against corrugated metal. Jagged edges against jagged edges set to Jagged Edge.
Hobi’s eyes darken. “Strip.”
You furrow your brow. “You want me to—”
“He said strip,” Yoongi grumbles, walking over to you and plastering the tape over your mouth, “and shut up.”
He reaches for the top button of your collar, but Hobi slinks beside you. He places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder.
“Hang on,” he says. “I wanna see her do it.”
With trembling fingers and pleading eyes, you hesitate.
Hobi cocks his head, growing heavy with expectation.
You freeze.
He swipes the bottle of Yamazaki and pours nearly half of it all over you.
It’s cold.
You sniffle.
With nowhere to go, the air from your sniffle-fueled whine puffs out your cheeks.
“There,” Hobi says, tossing the bottle somewhere onto the ground. It lands with a dull thump and rolls into the darkness. “Now you have to strip.”
Now you’ll have to wash this uniform when you get home, more like it.
You lock eyes with him.
Sometimes, you can see the shift, that unmistakable flip from everyday life into something more primal. You relish in the feeling of being the catalyst for the change.
This time, you judge that there is no shift. He is always this demanding.
Because he is always right.
When you lock eyes with him, he sees you judging.
You know what fear looks like.
You think you see a little of it, which means that he had a heart at some point.
They all had a heart at some point.
But the fear quickly dissipates when his insistent hand lunges forward for your collar.
He grabs the fabric and pulls you into him.
Everything smells like whiskey.
He throws you over to the sofa, where you fall onto the cushions, bumping the throw pillows, which slide off and land onto the carpet.
He strides over and pulls you back up again by that same collar.
You grip his forearm.
There are so many veins in it.
Your chef’s whites come off easily. Hobi has no regard for the buttons that pop off, or the stitches that rip. Forget putting it in the laundry. You’ll have to buy a new uniform altogether.
Yoongi has a tougher job. Your pants are tight, but his strong hands yank them down easily. The seams at your legs rub your skin red and raw.
You feel those strong hands force you out of your socks and shoes.
Now all that’s left is your simple bra and panties. Cheap and plain. You already knew they were going to go in the trash at the end of the night, one way or the other.
Hobi runs his hands down your chest, palming your breasts still in your bra, and massaging them. Your nipples are already so sensitive, and they buzz at his touch. The buzz is so strong that you lunge forward, reaching out for his shoulders. He grips your hips, which wiggle involuntarily as his fingers squeeze.
He lets out a quiet laugh as he rights you. Your bare feet welcome the plush carpet. You’re usually in boots or stilettos or, in one case, moon shoes. Your toes wiggle and spread out, trying to grip as you stand up straight.
He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside.
His cheek rests against yours as his voice rumbles into your ear.
“Nipples sensitive, huh?”
You squeak, but then you feel twin, thin strips against them. You look down and see Yoongi laying pieces of duct tape over them in little Xs before stepping back into the shadows.
“Tonight is about what I want,” Hobi reminds you.
You sigh when Hobi runs his thumbs over them and you only get a fraction of the buzz that sent you lurching.
Hobi places his hands on your shoulders and shoves you slightly.
He loves how easily your knees bend.
“Face down.”
You grunt as you readjust, your belly smoothing over the cool fabric, while your nipples so achingly can’t.
Yoongi holds you down, wrists gathered behind you, legs bent behind you, almost everything behind you until you see Hobi returning to you, his knee bumping the laptop and spinning it around as he walks over to you, rope in hand.
Hobi thrusts it forward to Yoongi.
The frayed end of it tickles your back.
You squirm.
Yoongi chuckles, getting the hog-tie right on the first go.
You try to turn your head back to see him. When you can’t, you wonder if he can do it with his eyes closed.
But both of their eyes are roving over you.
Zippers are being unzipped.
Buckles are being unbuckled.
Snaps are unsnapped.
Hobi stands in front of you, stroking his waking cock.
“That ass,” he admires. You feel him searing your flesh there, until it’s redirected right into your worried-looking eyes. “You think just because you have an ass like that, you can do whatever you want?”
You shake your head furiously. “Mm-mm!!”
Hobi’s palm lands under your chin, nearly choking you.
He looks evil.
“Liar.”
You take a deep breath and let the shiver run down your spine.
“She’s already so wet,” Yoongi says, with something close to pity.
Hobi laughs.
“That’s what I fucking thought. How’s it taste?”
“You want dibs?” Yoongi snorts. “Sir?”
Hobi disappears from view, but then you feel his tongue swiping up your pussy, making your ass bounce and twitch, your legs kicking back until Yoongi’s strong hand meets you mid-air and wraps around your ankles.
Yes, you taste sweet. You always taste sweet. But Hobi can actually taste the actual arousal within. His neck cranes forward, lips burying into your deep purple, and then deep pink. His jaw widens, and you can almost feel the back of his throat opening up to drink you in, as well as give his tongue free range to explore. You feel him slide his tongue into your opening, darting in and out at a steady, quick pace.
You’re mewling.
“Let me get in on that,” Yoongi says, unable to stand by and just watch.
Hobi laughs. With Yoongi, he’s always happy to share.
You hear them shuffle around.
Yoongi moves much slower. Much, much slower. You feel his nose close to your ass. You feel his chin rub against your clit. You angle your hips up to try and rub it against him. He grunts when he notices, and he grabs both of your thighs to hold you steady. Hold you open. His tongue widens and flattens. He laps you up. Collects you in his mouth. Spits in you. Laps it up again. Groans at the mix of all of the tastes.
As he eats, your throat strains with more noises drowning in your own saliva.
You feel Hobi’s tongue again.
At the same time.
The two of them.
Always sharing the work.
They leave you for a moment. Tangle in each other. More wet strokes. Grunts, hot and light. Knowing chuckles.
Your unanswered pleas are punctuated by Hobi’s dick smacking against your ass cheeks.
“Fuck, Yoongi, you know that I love being right,” Hobi says, pressing the tip of his cock just by your entrance. “People are lost. They love when someone else is in control. When I control them.”
You can’t help but try to use your thighs as leverage to push back against him. He’s not even inside you, and he already feels so goo—
“Unh-unh,” Hobi repeats, “tonight is about what I want.”
You hear him hock a loogie and spit onto your ass. His dick slides into the pool. You feel it dripping into the cleft.
You moan.
But then there are too many moans.
And hums.
More than just three.
A chorus of them.
Low.
Urgent.
They’ve taken place of the music.
Is the chorus coming from one of the rooms?
Is it coming from all the other—
“Shit,” Hobi sighs through grit teeth, sliding the tip through your cleft and into the space that your thighs make for him.
He grabs the ropes at your wrist, pulling you up and bending you farther back.
You hear wet stroking.
You wish you could reach down and do the same.
Fuck.
“Take her,” Hobi instructs.
Yoongi’s hands must be strong. It’s evident enough, given that there’s only one hand gripping the rope at your wrists, and you’re letting your body weight hang where it hangs. But his strength becomes downright irrefutable when you feel his fingers mashing into you, moving in circles, and then sliding into you. He’s met with so much resistance that he has to hiss. And that’s just for his fingers.
“Grease her up a little for me,” Hobi instructs.
Yoongi lets the rope slip through his fingers, and you bob forward a little, but he catches you again in his hand, gripping even tighter. You know because some of your hair gets caught in his grasp.
You like it.
Hobi leans down and pulls the tape away from your lips, letting the end dangle from your right cheek.
When he swoops his hair back through clawed fingers, you get the impulse to want to kiss him. The way the thin light bounces off of his soft yet stern face. The way his command showcases his vulnerability. How everything about him seems to be so balanced.
Do people know how much work it takes at your core to be that balanced?
He finds the bottle of whiskey.
He takes a swig from it.
Pours more all over your body.
Pours some on his own. Everything from his chest down.
You scowl as he teases.
He leans down and cradles your jaw in his free hand.
“How much can you take?” Hobi asks.
And that’s when you realize what’s really going on here.
The roleplay. The costumes. The illusion of submission. All of these things are part of it.
But what he’s really getting off on is knowing that you have to pretend that you don’t like it.
What would someone like that want to hear?
Why do you want to give it to him so badly?
“Are you asking how much I can take, or how much I actually want?” you sneer, your brain screaming “all” to both.
Hobi hums. Like he can tell.
And then he squeezes your cheeks together.
You open your mouth.
He sticks his dick in.
Just as Yoongi sticks his fingers inside of you.
Your delighted moan is just as muffled as when the duct tape was still in place.
“Fuck, you can take it all, can’t you?” Hobi groans, as he keeps sliding his length farther into your mouth, farther into your throat, feeling you readjusting so that you’re able to grab breaths here and there as he starts to pump. “Wonder how you found out.” He spits in his hand and starts to massage his balls while you continue to suck his whiskey-covered dick.
This is a different kind of whiskey dick. One you wouldn’t lament at all.
He groans as he fondles himself.
He leans back.
His shoulders relax.
The bottle of whiskey slides down precariously, bit by bit, his grip releasing as you suck.
And as you suck, and he rubs, he lets his thoughts race.
What kind of—unnhh, fuck—what kind of person knows that? You like to— shit, he’s almost all the way— fuck.
He sets the bottle of whiskey on the table, next to the laptop.
He lets go of your jaw and grabs the back of your head to pull you closer. Push himself in deeper. “Who else knows?” he grumbles and grunts. “Who else knows how deep you—”
He lets out a moan as he feels you nose the right cum-gutter of the V of his torso.
“—Fuck, who else knows how deep you can go?”
You’re gobbling him up. Would suck on his balls if he would fucking hand them over to you.
Hobi doesn’t fight the smirk that his racing thoughts can’t keep out. He has to be right about you.
“Dirty, nasty little thing like you,” he mutters. The pretense has been shot to hell. “How much you need it. Look where you are now.”
You know you’re right, too.
He had a heart.
Something or someone broke it.
That’s why he’s in the Presidential Suite.
You only gag when he pulls out. You gag every time anyone pulls out. It’s like you get sick at the thought of someone not filling you up.
That thought is gone when Yoongi pounds into you, as Hobi uses his hand to spins his dick in slow circles to ravel your spit around and around.
Like twirling cotton candy around a paper cone.
Hobi would probably find that comparison too sweet.
He almost tells you so when he slides back into your mouth, starting to thrust again. How incredible it feels. How tight. How excruciatingly wonderful. Stuffed so full, and no one cares if you just take it. And you take it so well. You’re so pliant and willing. Every square inch of the skin that they touch makes room for them, from each tiny throbbing capillary in their cocks, to each slight turn of your hips or slight twist of your lips.
Before he loses control, he places his cock next to your mouth.
“Pout for me.”
You do, pushing your lips out, letting him run his cock over them, slightly between them, and then slapping it against your cheeks.
Yoongi slaps against your cheeks as well.
“Shit!” you cry out, surprised at yourself, as Yoongi lets out a curling, deep moan. If you don’t come soon, you might go insane. “Please!”
Hobi frowns, only glaring at you. “I don’t like people who beg.”
He rips the remainder of the duct tape from your face, making you cry out again, and steps out of view.
You want him back immediately. Want his length in your throat so far down that you can’t make a sound.
But Yoongi’s hands grip your waist, and that desire shifts into a desperate wish that you could turn around to see his smoky eyes fixed on the folds of your skin surrounding the rope that he’s tied. How you’re turning red. How red that red must be, if he can see it in the dark.
He loves red.
So do you.
You see it everywhere.
In flushed cheeks. In lovers’ bruises.
Behind your eyes, as Hobi’s cock slid against the deepest wall of your throat and packed pleasure into your body. And then again, now, as Yoongi’s cock hits the deepest wall of your pussy, releasing it all over again.
You come.
You were wrong.
You’re going insane no matter what.
“Aahh, fuck!” Yoongi exclaims through your tortured, open-mouthed moans, his hands squeezing your forearms and ass, blooming redder and redder.
The chorus of moans and groans surrounding you get a bit louder.
You all struggle to keep your voices down.
Freedom comes to you in the form of a ring gag made of leather.
Once Hobi gets it in place, you can moan all you want.
Yoongi shoves you forward and steps back, taking shallow, uneven breaths.
But he’s quickly replaced by Hobi’s swollen cock, making you twitch and sigh.
“I thought I told you to grease her up,” Hobi grumbles and glancing at Yoongi.
“She’s so tight,” Yoongi mutters. “I would’ve come if you hadn’t—”
Hobi says that he sees what Yoongi means. But it comes out as one long, surprised, agonized, “Fuuuuuuuuck.”
You arch back. Try to move your hips. Dig them into the sofa cushions. Hobi’s flat, heavy hand helps.
You want him to fuck you until you’re embedded in the fibers.
He snaps his hips.
You’ve never felt thrusts like this before.
So powerful, and yet, so effortless.
He’s still talking through them.
“Help me flip her over. Wanna see those tits bounce.”
With a spent Yoongi’s help, Hobi spins you around his dick.
Like cotton candy.
You pinch the handle. Clench around the stem.
You start to tear up.
Moan.
Moan after moan after moan.
A chorus of moans join you.
“Ooh,” Hobi laughs, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You hear that?” He grunts again, this one coming from the pit of his stomach. “Aren’t you glad you came out to play?”
You meet his eyes and nod, desperate.
Your weight rests uncomfortably on your joints, your arms and legs still tied up behind you. But for each uncomfortable point of pressure comes a wave of serene bliss, all commanded by the head of Hobi’s cock.
You hear whispers through the walls. “Fuck”s and “holy shit”s.
Chanting.
Like prayers.
Yoongi divines an idea from them.
He stands over you at the other end of the sofa. He’s found
gathering your breasts together and leaning down to pump his rigid cock between them.
You turn left to move your chin out of the way. But you wish you could feel more.
“Mm,” Hobi moans, leaning forward. Reading your mind.
His strokes become quicker. Somehow even more eager. Like he hasn’t thrust like this in a while. Hard for you to believe. It’s just so ingrained in him, it seems.
Your skin feels so silky around Yoongi’s cock. Fucking you makes him feel pampered. He wants to return the favor. Imagines soaking you in a bath. Lathering you in lotion. He’ll gladly settle for lathering you in something else, though.
You whine.
Yoongi strokes your hair back with his thumb. His other palm busies itself with your breasts.
You whine again.
Yoongi watches as your drool starts to drip down your neck.
He wants it in his mouth.
You whine urgently, squeezing your eyes shut.
“She grip you like this?” Hobi chokes off, as he twists out of you, to the side. “Fuck, Yoongi, she’s—”
“I know,” he oozes, low and tight in his chest, as if his voice box is buried in pebbles next to his lungs. “Make her come again. Wild. I’m telling you.”
Hobi smirks at you. “Maybe we turn it up a notch and see how wild it can really get.”
Yoongi nods. Your sweat would be enough, normally. But he wants your spit, can barely take watching you dribble all over that gag. He wants his spit, but he’s been panting so hard that his mouth is dry.
He leans back and sees the whiskey on the table.
He pours it over your chest. And then he slides in and out of the space between your breasts, chasing his orgasm with more intention.
It happens when you open your eyes and gaze at him.
His cum spills everywhere, giving him everything he needed just a moment before. He lets his cock swim in it, sliding, grazing, bumping into your breasts, your stomach, the couch.
“Yesssss, shit,” Yoongi growls, panting as he wipes himself on you, finally resting his spurting tip just under your right breast.
You wish you could feel more.
You try to feel more.
You push out your chest, but your nipples still scream for air.
Hobi bends down and rips the duct tape X from your left breast.
A tortured, blessed “Hnnggg!” escapes from your throat.
Everything that you have control over clamps shut.
“Ho, fuck,” Hobi whimpers, grabbing your hips and ramming into you.
Yoongi’s eyes are as wide and black as his favorite vinyls. He rips the other X off of your right breast, where his cock is still leaking.
You let out another cry, which chops into shorter and shorter bursts, separated by your nostrils hungrily snatching at the hot, dank air around you.
Yoongi’s lips cushion your right nipple. His tongue finds every terrain, smooth and ridged. He sucks your breast into his mouth. Bites a little. His other hand glides across your stomach and massages your other breast. You feel his moans on your skin. They come from the back of his throat.
You buck forward, out of control.
Yoongi pops your breast from his mouth. “Fuck, Hobi,” he says, looking up at him. “Look at her. She’s shaking.”
Hobi knows. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he asked about your grip. He angles down, burying his cock into you, slam, slam, slam. His back will hurt. There will be an armrest-shaped bruise across his lap tomorrow.
Yoongi’s hand lands on your clit.
“Mmmm!!” you yelp, lips mashing down around the gag. “Mmmm-hmm-hmm-hmmmm!”
Hobi leans down, his thumbs digging into your gut as his fingers stay wrapped around your hip bones. Like he’s choking the lower half of your body.
It’s almost too much.
You know what happens when it’s almost too much.
You douse Hobi in your juices as you come, having nowhere to go, and yet, thrashing wildly and freely.
Hobi and Yoongi sigh and grunt. There is no intention of softening your high, which comes as sweat pours into your eyes, making you tear up.
“Filthy.”
“Making a damn mess.” Hobi’s eyes come alive. “Fuck, fuck, her walls keep flexing, and I—”
And then his eyes roll back. But you don’t see them do it. His head hangs forward, hair falling with it and obscuring your view.
You can’t fixate on just one image anyway.
You’re too busy trying to put the pieces of your mind back together again.
Long, exhausted groans, far too many, start to overlap.
Hobi speaks. “Fuck, that was good.”
He slides out of you and slaps your pussy in thanks. It twitches with aftershocks in return.
You hear the glass of the Yamazaki bottle slide along the length of the table, until it’s lifted abruptly before falling off the ledge.
Glug, glug, glug.
A refreshed sigh.
Hobi gives more instructions, though you can’t make those out. He’s too far away. And it’s like you’re underwater. Clarity comes and goes.
A door closes.
Yoongi comes into your view, bending at a 90-degree angle.
He gently helps you turn onto your side. He undoes the knot at your wrists. He pouts as he works, lips untangling only when the rope finally does.
He rises a little, as the rope, and your arms, straighten with newfound slack.
Release.
Yoongi helps you scoot up the couch, allowing your legs to unfold and stretch.
And then, Yoongi kneels next to you, gazing at you.
“You played the part beautifully,” he whispers. “He’s definitely gonna pay you extra.”
You snort. You expected that. With the performance you gave? This late? And last-minute? He’d better pay extra.
But then, Yoongi offers something unexpected.
His smoky eyes, catching you off-guard like they did when he opened the door. They search you.
Yoongi leans over you. Thinking.
You tilt your head back. Knowing.
And then he bends down, his fingernails sliding through your hair, starting just above your ear and then curling into a fist to tilt your head back even more. His mouth meets yours, drinking from your whiskey- and cum-coated lips, sucking so hard, as if he almost expects more to come out of them.
There’s a loud smack when he finally pulls himself away from you.
He looks at the echoes of rope on your skin.
He traces some of the lines with his pruned fingers.
“Fucking you was like creating art,” he murmurs, reveling in the sight.
He rises a little, letting your hair free and watching your head lean fall back to the sofa cushions.
The snake of rope slithers behind him as he disappears through a door. Different than the one you heard close just before.
Brain hazy, and body finally feeling exhaustion creeping in where dopamine and adrenaline are starting to leave, you rub your wrists and glance toward the laptop still sitting on the glass table.
The small camera is aimed at your heaving, dripping body.
The light is still on.
You make direct eye contact.
After you slowly lick your lips to collect the last of Yoongi’s spit, you take a loud, showy gulp with great satisfaction.
It’s like water.
You sit up.
Rest the soles of your feet on the edge of the, much like you, ruined, sofa.
Spread your legs.
Dance your fingers around your entrance, Yoongi’s cum dripping down your stomach and meeting Hobi’s cum as it leaks out of you.
You spin them around your index finger.
Like cotton candy.
You suck them both off.
And you flash your prettiest smile.
Another door opens.
Read the rest of the 3(0) for 30 series here!
277 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Spider-punk and Noir in btsv scene leaked
72K notes · View notes
i-ate-the-rats · 7 months
Text
hehehehe oh shit indefinite sad dark shadow (⊙ˍ⊙).
Tumblr media
10K notes · View notes
cyberjam · 10 months
Text
ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
Tumblr media
warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
Tumblr media
☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
Tumblr media
omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
17K notes · View notes
dimensionzero · 10 months
Text
all the implications of the different earths in atsv having different art styles are going to drive me insane. why do some people, like miles and peni and hobie, keep their own art styles wherever they go? why do some people, like gwen, adjust to other universes' art styles instead of keeping their own? is it automatic? do they know that this is happening? do they choose whether or not to keep their own styles in other universes? is it a conscious choice? subconscious? if it's a choice then why do items from other universes, like hobie's watch, keep their original styles? I'm going to start crawling up my wall
13K notes · View notes
clemleur · 9 months
Text
makin' love - hobie brown
hobie loves it when you get all sappy during sex
his cock is deep in your cunt and his arms are forcing your back to arch so he can hit that spot deeper and harder
he’s all focused on making you feel good and getting you to squirt all over his thick veiny cock when he sees your arm reaching for something behind you and your whines become less pleasure sounding and more “need something” sounding
and before he can even ask what his baby needs, he feels your hand touch and grip his arm
and he realizes that you just wanna hold his hand while he blows your back out
“you wanna hold my hand baby? is that it?” he says while he intertwines his hand with yours
and he knows he was right when instead of responding, you just let out a whine of satisfaction, too fucked out to really give a good response
and in another instance, he’s making love to you in missionary, kissing all over your face and holding you close while you feel the slow drag of his cock in and out of you
he’s rubbing on your clit and you just feel so so good that you tear up a little bit
“what’s wrong? are you okay? do you want to stop?” he asks worried he’s hurting you
but all you do is choke out in between moans that you want a kiss and whisper against his lips that you love him
and it brings him so close so fast that before he can stop it, he cums inside you while wiping your tears while he kisses you nice and slow
14K notes · View notes
autumn-hiraeth · 9 months
Text
Hobie Brown being your boyfriend...
Hobie brown x reader
2nd part
just a few headcanons of our spider-punk <33
fluff, slight nsfw and angst?
Tumblr media
Hobie loves to kiss you, no matter the place or who is around, he will take every opportunity to kiss you and devour your mouth.
"hey hun" he whispers while Miguel is explaining something important.
"mmmh.. " you look at him before you felt his soft lips on yours.
Hobie loves to hold your hand, he likes how his big hand wraps around yours, he also likes to wrap your waist with his hands or lean his head against your shoulder. Hobie only wants to feel you.
Hobie shows you off to everyone; with his friends from the gang and his friends from the spider society.
"Miles, my mate, you need to meet Y/n, she's so badass, coolest and most stylish girl of all the multiverse... you'll get along with her for sure, she has that charm"
"who's Y/n?"
"the love of his life, his better half.. Y/n is the girlfriend of my bro" Pav explains
" thought you hate labels"
" Y/n has that effect on him" Gwen whispers
Hobie follows you on all the missions 'cause he needs to take care of you. As long as he exists, no one can hurt you.
"Miss me luv?" your eyes widen in surprise to see your boyfriend swing next to you
"hobie, what are you doing here?"
"just taking care of my girl"
Hobie asks you to move into his canal boat, sadly that would not be possible, your universe needs his spider-woman, but sometimes hobie manages to convince you.
"Hobie my love, I can't stay" you whisper between kisses as your boyfriend slides his big hands under your shirt-it's actually his-
"shh luv, just lemme make ya feel better" he murmurs before sliding his hand under your panties .
In short, Hobie being your boyfriend is heavenly
'til the canon event happens.
10K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 10 months
Text
The Flirting Skills of Spiderverse Characters
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader
Tags: fluff, crush, flirting, established relationship, kissing, confidence boost, secret identity
A/N: I asked myself if these characters have rizz and behold!
Peter does have pretty good flirting skills once you start dating. Until the he's a tiny bit awkward but not too much, he knows you already like him. His smiles are always a litte loopsided when he walks his fingers up your arm, to your cheek, watching goosebumps bloosom on your skin right before he kisses you.
Miles needs to look up pick up lines before he sees you. They don't help. Well they do but not in the way he thought. He mixes up his lines from how nervous he is but instead of messing up his chances with his crush, you end up liking him even more then you did before.
Gwen is a pretty good flirt once she becomes fond of you. In and out of the costume actually. In the costume more before you start to return her feelings but when she's sure you feel the same way she does hard on the flirting when she's outside of the costume and eases up while she's in the costume.
Miguel flirts like no other. Kissing your cheek, dipping down like you're in a dance, always pulling you to his chest while looking at you with the most smug grin on his face. How could he not with the reactions he pulls from you, all those yelps and dreamy sighs and mindmelting kisses you give him in return.
Hobie flirts without meaning to. He is naturally a very touchy, energetic guy so he makes your heart skip a beat without trying to. If he does try you're in real trouble. It was already hard enough to try not to kiss him while he was just a friend but now he's actually putting the moves on you. Worst of all he knows exactly what he's doing to you and he's not slowing down.
Pavitr is a smooth talker outside of the costume but not in it. When he sees you face to face his confidance goes up by a lot but when you're looking at him like you don't really know him, he falters. Always the one to put his arm around your shoulder and pull you into a kiss, smiling into it as you cup his jaw, silently asking for one more.
8K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 10 months
Note
hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼
Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??
First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣
Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…
Part 2
Tumblr media
You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.
‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.
He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.
For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.
‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’
‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.
‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’
He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.
‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.
‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.
Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’
Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.
‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.
8K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Hobie stopped to draw a little doodle of himself. He was like oh I'm writing a note for Gwendy I'll draw a little me.
And it's like not crunched in the corner or anything it looks like he planned to have it there so he left a little space to doodle 😭
He got out red and white markers to draw a little SpiderPunk for that note.
He's such a silly little guy. I'm gonna cry about it.
1K notes · View notes
msgorillagripcoochie · 10 months
Note
hobie from astv sucking on his gfs tits whenever he can sit and play w them????? (smutty thought???)
this is a bit different than what you asked for and i kind of got a little carried away this is unedited but if you like feel free to request!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hobie’s always been a teensy bit obsessed with everything about you, he’s out so often that when you guys finally get some time together alone well, it’s hard to keep his hands off.
it’s normal little touches at first, his hand brushing a piece of hair away from your face, his fingers tracing small circles into your shoulder before he ends up pulling you in his lap. he’d take a second leaning back on the couch all the way took get a good look at you through his hooded lids.
his hands drop down to your hips and he finds himself hyper focusing on the way your nipples press against your thin t shirt.
“i am obsessed with you.” it’s a low mutter that cuts off whatever you had been saying and you’re confused until you notice he isn’t quite meeting your eyes. it almost makes you laugh when you realize he’s practically ogling your tits. he’s always had a fascination with your tits so you’re used to it but you’ll never get used to the way he looks at you like you hung the stars all on your own.
“you’re staring.” you comment, raising your brow at him. it’s then he meets your eyes, his teeth digging into his bottom lip “i know.” he smirked, his hand dragging from your hip slowly sliding his hand up your shirt. his movements are teasing, slow, he knows how needy you get when he takes his time.
finally his hand cups your breast and it’s him who lets out a groan kneading your soft skin in his hand. his thumb swirls around your hardening nipple as he pulls you into a rough kiss. the kiss doesn’t last long before he’s pulling your shirt off muttering a “lemme see you.”
he whistled at the sight of you making you laugh “you’re such a freak hobie.” you tease though you can’t ignore the heat rising to your cheeks “says the sweet girl eagerly showing her tits to me.” he countered pulling you tightly against him, his head dropping low pressing kisses around your tits.
“i can’t help but indulge you.” he chuckled at that “yeah?”
“mhm.” you hummed back gasping softly as his lips wrapped around your nipple.
he’s always been messy with it, his tongue dragging across your skin as he sucks and bites where he can marking your tits despite there being already faint marks from the times before but that isn’t enough.
he takes his time focusing and playing with your tits. he’s taking your nipple in between his teeh as you grind desperately against him and he’s pulling lightly. his other hand makes sure to give your other breast just as much attention kneading and rolling your nipple between his fingers.
he’s obsessed with your boobs no matter what size and honestly he’s obsessed with you all around.
5K notes · View notes
bonvoyagenoona · 2 years
Text
3(0) for 30 | A Yoongi Series
Tumblr media
Introducing a short, three-part series in honor of Yoongi’s 30th birthday month (which I also happen to share lol). Maybe I’m also writing it as a small birthday gift to myself. Either way, here’s to celebrating your 30s. 
Welcome to the decade, Yoongles. Just like you, it gets better and better.
Here’s more about the fics! | read on ao3
Tumblr media
Pink Toes is based on a real-life, incredibly hot nail technician at my salon that I absolutely have a crush on. The first time he gave me a pedicure, he stopped randomly and paused my manicurist before she started painting my nails. He got up and came back with a different bottle of pink. He switched out the shade of pink she had picked to ensure that it would match the pink I picked for my toes. And the last time I saw him, he gave me an extra few minutes on my massage. I’m too shy to ask for his name, and I go too infrequently to feel like it warrants a standing appointment. But whenever I call to make an appointment, part of the fun is wondering whether I’ll get to see him. He’s… um… very good. And he’s obviously a Yoongi. Come book an appointment with him.
Tumblr media
#4 With a Smile is my entry for the Suits & Ties collab! Thanks @sugakookitty and @hobisuniverse​ for hosting! The title comes from this moment of bewitchment in one of my favorite movies, High Fidelity. The theme of the conversation at the tail end of that clip, the conversation about dating a musician, is further explored in the next fic, Shirt. @yuugehn​, thanks again for telling me about this collab and inviting me to try writing Yoongi and Hobi together, especially because I feel like Yoongi is the first member whom I channel my ideas through, and Hobi is the last member who I’ve gotten to really know. Hoping this fun little story brings, at the very least, a bit of a naughty smirk.
Tumblr media
Shirt is inspired by what people seem to call “Bloodstain” or “Shirt” by SZA (when is she releasing the whole track???). I’ve had this idea lodged in my brain for a while, and it seems to want to burst forth now. It’s meant to describe the push and pull, the ebbs and flows in life, the things that we consider core but that we drift away from, and then back to, from time to time. Maybe it’s how I feel about the creative process. Maybe it’s how I feel about Yoongi. Maybe it’s how I feel about fandom in general. Maybe it resonates with something you feel. Whatever it is, like always, I hope you process and enjoy. 
3(0) for 30 Spotify Playlist | YouTube Playlist
Tumblr media
Hope you all enjoy! And don’t forget what Yoongles himself says:
Tumblr media
166 notes · View notes
mcondance · 10 months
Note
miguel's fav position is def mating press, but what about hobie. do u think he likes you on top so he can touch everywhere or on all fours, using his size to press against you?
hobie’s favorite position is… baby i’m drawing a blank i feel like he likes every single position like he just loves being inside you but if i had to choose… it’s either missionary with your legs over his shoulders or with you on top cause his dirty talk goes crazy with you on top 💯 you bein in control turns him on BAD so he’s literally encouraging you and telling you to take what you need and to ride him “just like that” and to “show me how much you love this dick, yeah?”
(bonus! he also rlly likes when you talk to him while he’s fucking your brains out. he’s all about your pleasure so over time he’s taught you to tell him when he’s doing something you rlly like. say he angles his hips a certain way. he presses up against your spot n you go crazy and start saying shit like “yeah, right there, feels so good” … he will go insane. makes sure he presses against that spot with every thrust and he’s moaning “yeah? right there? tell me how fuckin’ good it feels, love.”)
5K notes · View notes
slut4sugu · 8 months
Text
BRO i cannot stop thinking about how hobie would most definitely be into dry humping/grinding through clothes.
Tumblr media
LIKE JUST IMAGINE; the smell of cigarettes in the air as an rnb song played lowly in the background, your room lit by magenta led lights. The feeling of hobies large hands, squeezing the fat of your ass encouraging you to grind further on his bulge. That came about from finding out you had a tongue piercing, which turned hobie on immediately causing a makeout session to occur, the feeling of his tongue slipping inside of your mouth turning you on. A wet patch on your panties forming as your boyfriend started to get handsy. Which led to the predicament you both are in now. Grinding, moaning and groaning into each others mouths. Kisses messy and hungry as your mind went blank with pleasure. The feeling of your cunt grinding against his girth through his sweatpants causing you to moan louder than you should, which earned a smirk from hobie. “Don’t try n hide it doll I can feel you throbbing.” You hid your face in his neck, letting out a moan in surprise as you felt his hands drift up from your ass and to your waist, pulling you now in a back n forth motion to grind your sex harder on his bulge. “Fuck- shut up dumbass.” The groan that hobie let out from feeling your cunt made you clench around nothing tightly as you bit down slightly on his neck. Unintentionally causing hobies dick to twitch in sweats, which you felt. Causing you to giggle, “You’re kinky as hell aren’t you hobes? Didn’t know you were into biting.” You teased, purposely whispering seductively in his ear, a long drag of your hips making your eyes roll back. Your clit beginning to throb and your breath began to grow ragged despite your teasing. “You’re just as bad as me luv, twitchin so much and your not even on my dick. Who’s the slut now hm?”
Bonus <3
Loves seeing your face when you cum bro, if you’re not facing him in a mirror, looking at the monster stuffing you so full <3
DEFINITELY GUIDES YOU THROUGH IT (bro I’m thinking abt making a nsfw alphabet for him n noir.)
Smokes while fucking you and blows the smoke into your mouth its so hot omg
LOVES CHOKING (honestly loves when you ride him and your hands find they’re way around his neck.)
After care king, yall be watching horror movies afterwards (sometimes it ends up as him still being horny and he has you sit on his face </3)
Back to masterlist <3
5K notes · View notes
gyarunie · 8 months
Text
+*:ꔫ:* Took your manz
your little sister wants to steal your man(z)
A/N: i had this adorable idea while i was watching tik tok compilations and i took my favorite men from ATSV and mashed them into this brainrot of mine. and im genuinely nervous to make mistakes in this fandom lmfao.
C/W: POC friendly reader, GN reader, romantic relationships, healthy-ish family banter, tattletale little sister, feminine pet names, slightly jealous reader, secret relationships, potential ooc characters
more under the cut...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
E42 Miles
miles was coming over secretly, your parents were out on a date but your 7 year old little sister was staying at home, much to your disappointment.
you were sitting on the bed, as miles knocked on your window in his casual clothes "mami, im here" he says sliding the window himself and crawling into your room.
"hey, you made it" you smile and look at his outfit "mmh.. you look good" you hum, walking around him like a predator circling its prey "oh? and i don't hear that often" he chuckles, his eyes following you.
"cuz sometimes you dress like a emo villain" you get closer to him, your lips just inches away from his.
"EWWW" a high pitched voice broke the tension as you both look at the sound, your little sister standing at the door with her doll and dinosaur in each hand "Get out! you stupid ankle biter" you yell, pointing out the door, she peeks behind you.
"OH MY GOSH, YOUR BRAIDS ARE SO COOL, YOU LOOK SO HANDSOME" your sister gushed and ignored you, running over to miles who looked amused and flattered "i do? thank you princesa" he flashes a very charming smile. your sister squeals "can you be my boyfriend instead?" she asks
"HELL NO" you shout
Spider-Noir
"im not good with kids" peter crosses his arms and leans against the door, crossing his arms and turning his head away "peter...come on, Naomi isn't that....bad?.." you trail off, thinking hard.
suddenly a knocks erupt form the door peter was leaning on "THERE IS A MONSTER UNDER MY BED" naomi yells, obviously panicked and scared. peter goes into a dark corner of the room, trying to hide from your 6 year old sister.
you open the door to your sister hugging your legs, burying her face in your legs, if i can't see it, it can't see me type shit.
"if there was, it would be gone by now" you explained, patting your sister's head in attempts to soothe her anxiety "ditto" peter says, walking out of the shadows, you sister screamed the loudest you ever heard.
"oh wait he looks so cool" Naomi mumbles and walks up to peter
she bows with a invisible hat like the "old times"
you facepalm at the dumb but cute sight Infront of you, peter smiles at the little girl and does the same with his hat "why are you in black and white?" she asks innocently "you look like my drawing" she says, not willing to give him a chance to speak.
"thats enough naomi, go to bed" you try to get some space between them "marry me" she blurts. peter smiles and puts his hat on her head "when you get older" he lies to not hurt her feelings, because he was planning to marry you.
Hobie Brown
you looked down at your watch which detected any type of movement in your house, shit.. someone broke in? with your sister still napping in her room? nonono...
you ran to the direction of your house while hobie looked on worried, chasing you "wha's up lovie?" he asks, running as you swung through buildings and cutting corners in a panic, almost tripping.
"sister is in danger" you said loud enough, running to your house and fighting the intruders with guns, kicking and punching them before your sister wakes up from the noise.
after a few seconds they were out cold.
"what is that noise?" you sister mumbles while rubbing her eyes, looking at the two of you out of your suits and acting like nothing ever happened.
"WOAH.." lily walks towards hobie and made grabby hands "up!" she says, hobie picks her up and she looks intensely at your boyfriend. she grabs his face, which almost felt like nothing to him "touchy are we?" he smiles "rings" she says absent-mindedly.
"piercings" hobie corrects the little girl
"piercings.." she repeats, touching his lip piercings in amazement "hands off, your dirty hands" you took your sister but she shakes her head and reaches back to hobie.
©️ GYARUNIE. do not plagiarize, post my works to other sites or translate any of my work.
reblogs help!
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes