#hobie oneshot

[messylustt]

i need hobie brown smut i can’t find any 😭🙏 hes a rockstar so i’m pretty sure those fingers are …. 😍😍

practice — hobie brown. longer name. hobie using your pussy for band practice. they areeee tho. god.

he’d be sitting on a comfy chair or couch, legs spread (of course), and he’d be ushering you over by a slight backwards tilt to his head. thinking all is innocent you walk over, bouncing onto the couch beside him. hobie immediately grabs your legs which had bent slightly together, as he straightens them over his lap, his large hands practically wrapping around both calves (they are big enough, yes).

“how’d practice go?” you ask, shifting to get slightly more comfortable. “I could practically hear your guitar from a million rooms down — ” but your words drift off upon feeling his hands glide up your leg, coming to a stop by your bare thighs (you being in a skirt). you intake air as hobie yanks you closer to him by your thighs, slightly spreading them in the process.

you’re now practically draped over him having to push up slightly on your elbows as you stare at him from lower on the couch. “it was alrigh’…” his hand began to lead under your skirt all while keeping eye contact with your fluttering eyes. “if ya heard it that far away, then mission accomplished.” your breathing hitches as hobie’s ringed fingers disappear under your skirt, away from your vision, as he slowly brushes over your covered pussy, making your hips jolt.

“but apparently I need practice…” he hums, beginning to draw patterns over your clit as your chest begins to heave. “my fingers need to be quicker to get a certain tempo…” now he’s moving your panties aside as he slides the tips of his fingers through your wetness. “thanks, babe…ya all prepared for me.”

and then he’s thrusting two long fingers into your cunt making your breathing hitch as your hips shift. “hobie…”

“mm…” he watches as his fingers go in and out your pretty hole. “ya can help me get better…righ’?” his thrusts are moving quicker now, as his other hand keeps your thighs spread apart. “let me know if my speed is improving.” you’re now a whimpering mess as your head knocks back, his thrusts now at an ungodly pace as his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit.

“no no…i need to you to see. to let me know how i’m doing…” his free hand moved to pull your chin back. “watch.” your pussy is clenching around his fingers, as the speed makes your entire body hum, his thumb somehow flicking your clit perfectly. and as your orgasm crashes over you, hobie hums to himself, slowing the pace a fraction, but not pulling out.

“see…i’m already getting better…you really are helping me improve…” his thrusts quicken up again, making you whine in overstimulation. “shh…this technique is working…i can’t stop my practice now…”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[bruisedboys]

thinking about hobie brown catching you staring at him … and then just being an absolute menace about it …..

he’s doing something so ordinary, just sitting on the couch, long legs spread in front of him (he manspreads all the time change my mind!!), watching some band play on tv while his fingers tap out the rhythm of the song on his thighs. you’re sitting across the room, supposedly watching tv too, but hobie can feel your eyes on him like two laser beams burning into the side of his head. he keeps his face neutral so you don’t know you’ve been caught until he pipes up,

“do I got somethin’ on my face, doll?” without pulling his eyes away from the tv.

he can sense your embarrassment from all the way across the room. from the corner of his eye he sees you whip your head round to face the tv as if you weren’t just ogling at him shamelessly. he guesses if he was to touch your face right now you’d be hot as a furnace.

“no,” you say weakly, guilty.

hobie laughs, a low teasing chuckle that he knows makes you flustered beyond measure. “really? ‘cos you’re lookin’ at me like’ve grown two heads.”

you stay silent and hobie finally pulls his eyes away from the tv to look at you. he’s rewarded with a very shy-looking you, sitting there with your hands all muddled in your lap and your eyes zeroed in on a patch of floorboard.

hobie grins. “c’mere, babe.”

you look up at him (finally), confused. “what?”

hobie knows you heard him just fine but says it again anyway. “c’mere,” he prompts, patting his thigh. “wanna talk to ya.”

you obey, maybe because you’re really bad at saying no to him. and anyway, hobie can’t talk, he never says no to you, either. you get up and cross the room sheepishly, stopping much too far away from his knees for his liking.

“closer,” he murmurs, lifting his torso off the couch cushions to reach forwards and take you by the hips, pulling you closer so you’re standing in between his legs.

hobie keeps his hands on your hips while you stare at a rip in his jeans and don’t say a word. hobie doesn’t mind. at least now you’re close enough he can see your pretty face clearly.

he sits up straight, almost eye height with you now, even though you’re standing and he’s sitting. he removes his hands from your hips in favour of your face, palms cupping your cheeks. he drags his thumbs under your eyes, your skin soft under his guitar-induced callouses.

“you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, cos you are, and he wants you to know he’d stare at you for hours if he thought you could take the attention.

you make an embarrassed sort of noise that makes hobie laugh. you’re adorable. he needs you closer immediately.

without giving you any warning he hooks one hand underneath your thigh and pulls. you fall not so gracefully into his lap, your weight pressed against him, almost chest to chest. you squeal at the sudden change in position. hobie just smiles, satisfied.

“hobie!” you gasp.

hobie ignores your scolding, if you can even call it that.

“that’s better,” he says, using one ringed finger to trace your jaw. he ends at your chin and hooks his finger under it to get you to look him in the eye. you’ve visibly melted under his touch, your body lax on top of his, eyelids fluttering, and it’s so lovely hobie almost regrets what he says next. “now, you wanna tell me why you were starin’ so hard, love?”

you groan and drop your forehead to his shoulder, hands gripping his waist for dear life as if that will save you from his teasing. it won’t. but hobie knows you don’t really mind it as much as you let on.

[fabled-fiction]

Maybe a Hobie Brown x Mabel-Pines-Type!Reader? Older obviously, with just like, her personality and fashion sense? A Chaotic Sunshine meets Chaotic Rebel type thing.

If not interested, just ignore. But I look forward to whatever you write!

Starstruck (Hobie Brown x Fem!Sunshine!Reader)

Summary: You’re Jess Drew’s gal in the chair (in training), and when you have to make a quick trip the spider society you happen to catch a certain punk’s eye.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS, use of (Y/N)

A/N: I hope this meets your expectations!! I had alot of fun writing this!

EARTH-1618

KINGS, NEW YORK CITY

Your desk was more glitter than wood at this point.

It was hard to tell where the stickers stopped and where the wood of your desk started.

Especially now, as you squeezed glue on top of whatever artpiece you were currently working on. An array of different paint tubes and what looked like glitter bombs were spread about your work area, dangerously close to what looked like very expensive monitors and pcs. Though it was kind of hard to tell based on all the string worms and star stickers pasted on any surface that wasn’t a screen.

The project, which could only be identified as an oversized button pin upon closer inspection, was coming together nicely. Atleast in your eyes.

It read “BEST SPIDER” with a cute doddle of a spider surrounded by loads of blue, yellow, and red glitter. Currently you were putting your finishing touches on it by attaching color coordinated ribbons to the bottom ruffles.

The craftsmanship alone of it was indeed impressive, you just needed to look past the blinding reflectiveness of it.

It was for your mentor, Spiderwoman.

Who had taken you under her wing for the past two years, “training” you to be the best. Well, best in the sense of “gal in the chair”. At first it didn't make a whole lot of sense to you, but neither did the world you were thrown into. She apparently saw something in you from all the way across the multiverse.

The rest was history.

“(Y-)..(Y/N)...(Y/N)!”

The glue bottle currently in your hands spun in the air, a chaotically beautiful cascade of glue spewing in the air and (thankfully) somehow none of it landed on you. Slowly turning your head, you gave a small wave as you saw said mentor on the screen staring down at you.

“Jess! Hey…did you..did you try calling my watch?”

“What do you think?”

Spinning your chair across the room, you snatched your multiversal watch and flicked the screen on.

You did in fact have about five missed calls from her. You could feel her iced stare from across the room, hell from across dimensions.

“But it was getting in the way of my creative liberties!”

“I don’t care! As the second half of a spider person you need to be available 24/7! Your future spider will need to be able to rely on you.”

Slipping the watch onto your wrist, you shot yourself back over to your desk and smiled widely at her. She knew that whatever scolding she gave you would only have about a few moments effect. Sure the message would stick but she always had that nagging feeling in the back of her mind of how long it truly stuck.

“Well, You have me on the horn now! What's up? Who do I need to aid with my technological wonders? My sleuthing skills? I'm ready to Sherlock it up!”

After a few more long blank faced seconds, Jess reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“We actually need you here. Our resident Spider who usually deals with all of our technological deals is having some connectivity issues.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, but only for a moment before you were shooting out of your seat and whooping. Jumping around your room, you threw your fist in the air before a sudden realization dawned upon you mid air.

It was almost comical how you seemed to pause mid jump.

“Oh my god…I have to change. I can't show up to Spider Society looking like this!”

“(Y/N) there's no time! Grab your bag and get here now.”

Standing in shock, you huffed as you watched your computer screen clip off.

She was crazy if she thought you weren’t at least gonna put on some body glitter.

-

“Jess said to meet her here…do you think she got lost?”

Hobie shrugged, shoving his hands into his vest pockets. His fingers found themselves fiddling with whatever computer chip or part he had nabbed as he leaned against what could be considered a front desk.

“You know ‘er best. She usually punctual?”

Gwen looked up from her watch with an exasperated look. That told Hobie all he needed to know as he leaned his head back with a sigh.

“Listen! I've never met her in person! She’s one of Jess’s other trainees! I just know she's not a spider, and that despite having worked with Jess for two plus years she's never stepped foot in Spider Society!”

“She’s a chair?”

Pinching her nose, Gwen nodded. “Yea. A pretty good one too. She is a bit…eccentric though. And loud…I think she blew my eardrum out one time. I had tinnitus for like a week...”

“So she’s got some vocals on ‘er aye?”

“Thats all you picked up on? C’mon Hobie help me look for anyone who looks lost we’re supposed to chaperon h-”

Usually the portals that opened here were the usual semi-chaotic reality altering ones. But for some reason the one that just opened in front of them was nothing of the sort. No..this one opened with a loud tear; Everything and everyone in the vicinity was enveloped in a neon pink hue.

It was hard to tell who came stumbling out of the portal, as Hobie feared that if he moved his hand he would temporarily blind himself. But as the portal closed, and everything returned to its normal color palette, he finally dared to move his hand.

Maybe he shouldn’t have moved his hand.

Cause he was only met with a very different, blinding sight.

You had just fully stood from what he could only assume was a clumsy entrance. You wore what could only be described as almost every color of the rainbow but someone you pulled it off. There was absolutely no way you could move silently, as you were adorned in a plethora of kandi bracelets, pastel chains and pins. Your hair was adorned in a multitude of clips that matched the ones on your bag. 

Was your smile an accessory too? Hobie was sure it was, cause it was blinding him just as much as the body glitter that was spread over your legs and arms were.

His hand slowly reached up to clutch the chest of his jacket, in hopes that it would remind his heart to beat.

It wasn’t until Gwen had elbowed him in the side (hard enough to bruise might he add) that he remembered to breathe.

“Don’t stare, it's rude.”

He didn’t want to look away.

“Hi! Im Gwen…Stacy! We’ve talked a few times over coms?”

You smiled even wider as you grabbed Gwen’s hand and shook it rather violently (or enthusiastically it could have been confused for either). When she removed her hands from your drip it was left brighter than before for only a moment.

“Hi! Its nice to finally put a non-masked face to the name! Im (Y/N). And you are?”

Your sneakers squeaked as you took a sharp turn to face Hobie fully.

“Im Hobie Brown. Quiet the entrance you made.”

He holds his hand out, and is relieved when you shake it for just as long as you did Gwen’s. He watches as it glowed then returned to its normal saturation.

“Yeaaaa. Apparently my Earth is like WAY brighter than most. I would’ve brought sunglasses if I had known that would happen. Anyways…can you show me to the computer lab..hub…wherever this Spider-Byte normally operates?”

Gwen had taken it upon herself to lead the charge, and include a quick run over tour of whatever facility you all happened to pass on the way to the lab. 

Everything was so bright, but what amazed you more were the amount of Spider people that were just casually walking about. Either they were coming back from patrol, returning from break or coming for the first time.

You were sure your neck was gonna hurt or have a permanent crook in it from how much you were whipping your head around and turning to take everything in. You weren’t sure when the next time you would be here would be, so you wanted to take it all in.

“And here is where all the computer magic happens! You uh…know what you’ve gotta do from here right?” Gwen awkwardly raised her hands as if to present the lab.

“Yup! Im TECHNICALLY supposed to monitor your guys software and stuff and blah blah blah but I actually connected with Layla on the way here-who is super sweet by the way-and Im actually just gonna fix Spider-Byte’s connectivity issues here so she can get back to it. Y’know since she’s more knowledgeable with everything here. I would probably just mess something up.”

Despite the fact that you spoke about a mile a minute, and it was obvious Gwen was struggling to keep up, Hobie hung onto every word.

You moved like you had been here before despite this being your first time even stepping foot on the premises. You just moved with this sense of self confidence that had the aura of the room commanded by your presence alone. If you hadn’t told them your Earth just naturally saturated Hobie would have just assumed your essence was just too potent that it leaked off you and onto whatever you touched.

You were leagues above him when it came to the coolness factor.

Watching as you moved around the consoles via spinny chair (when did that get there?), each screen popped up and immediately began to run code. Hobie liked to pride himself on being a tech wiz, but this was levels beyond what he knew how to do. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from you.

But as he watched your hands, he noticed…were you TAKING code off the computers too?

Oh, that just brought a smile to his face.

As Gwen wandered over to the other side of the console to watch the miles of code run across the screen, Hobie took the opportunity to have a moment with you on the opposite side of the room.

Right when you went to shoot across him (and might he add it was almost like you had spider like reflexes with how you moved around on this thing), his hand went to grab the back of your chair.

Pulling the chair back, he watched as you rubber banded back into the seat and stood straight up. He leaned over your shoulder to look at the screen in front of you both. His hand reached over to tap a few keys and pull up the results onto just this screen.

Ignoring how his spider senses were shooting down his spine at an all time high with how close he was to you, he looked at you with a smirk.

“Did you just ‘alf inch some of our code?”

“Im sorry?”

Leaning in closer, he pulled the thumb drive out of only this terminal and held it up. Your cheeks turned a dark red in realization to being caught, and you crossed your arm as you started at him.

“You know wha’ I said”

Turning quickly, you pulled ANOTHER flash drive out from your pocket and stuck it into the port. The downloading resumed, and much to Hobie’s surprise you stood and snatched the thumb drive from him.

“First of all, I am part of the ‘’our’’ and second of all…it's none of your business.”

Suddenly multiple of the screens, well practically all of the screens in the room flashed green. With a pat of his shoulder, you rolled over to every computer and pulled out each flashdrive. Hobie counted…12!

He covered his mouth, trying to keep his cool disposition as he watched you quickly shove each one in your bag. You little grifter you…he would definitely have to find out what Earth you were from…

With the push of a button, you turned to them with a smile as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Alrighty! My work here is done…wait..,”

Turning around, you pressed the enter key on the computer behind you only to whip right back around smile as all the screens returned to normal.

You had been here all but twenty minutes and you managed to do solve all of their problems and then some.

“Now Im done! Gwen, you have my contact coordinate. Call me if you need me at all.”

Your eyes raked over Hobie, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as he watched you carefully. The hair on your arms stood when he had leaned over you earlier. You could tell from his punk aesthetic and impressive hair that he was definitely anarchy incarnate…

He intrigued you. You were sure the data files you had picked up from the archives would barely answer every question you had about him.

You would have to push off your paper mache project for tonight…

“It was nice meeting you Hobie! Hope we can meet again sometime. Im like, basically free all the time…Later!”

Signing off with a peace sign, your neon portal opened again and closed in an instant as you fell into it.

“See what I mean, eccentric.”

“I thought she was pretty cool.”

Walking over to where you just stood, Hobie ran his fingers over where you had last touched hoping to catch some of the light leftover.

It was then he noticed you had left behind one of your thumb drives. It was definitely yours, a bright neon yellow covered in white glitter that fell off as he picked it up. His other hand came down to pick up the tag on the string connected to it.

‘Oops! Guess I left behind this VERY important thumb drive. Mind returning it to me? I like really need it for super duper important chair stuff…Earth 1618, Kings, New York City things y'know.

– (Y/N)’

[deathc-re]

i definitely think hobie loves cockwarming. having you sat on him, desperate and pleading for him to move just an inch. there's almost a puddle at his base from your hole, so wet and he'll lazily rub on your clit, so tantalizing slow that you almost let out a sob. you want to move, bounce, rock, anything!

you'll beg and whine and pout but he'll just smile at your lazily. It's killing him too, the way you grip him so tightly, trying to milk him so desperately and oh the sounds you make! he'll pull you close, kiss and suck on your neck to get whimpers and mellows out of you. each time y'all do this, he tries to beat his last time. almost in competition with himself, and you hate it.

once he finally does move though, it's with the force of everything in him. pace mind numbing, his words, his hands on you, pinching and gripping and caressing everything he can. you rock your hips to try and match his pace but to no avail, he whispers in your ear to relax and let him please you. without protest you do as your told and let the pleasure consume your body and mind.

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and it's premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM communicty from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

     "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

[titanic-angel]

нoвιe вrown х gn!reader

⁎︎✰︎—『ѕтιcĸ n' poĸe』︎—︎✰︎⁎︎

ѕynopѕιѕ: нoвιe gιveѕ yoυ yoυr ғιrѕт тaттoo.

warnιngѕ: nυdιтy (semi-sexual), ѕwearιng

noтeѕ: ιтѕ вeen ιn мy нead ғorever, pleaѕe enjoy ❤︎

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

“Ow- shit HOBS!”

You eyebrow stuck together, nails digging into the cream sheets. You leaned you head back, closing your eyes as you pushed into the pillows that propped you head up.

You heard Hobie scoff, eyes still trained on the skin below your belly button. “Yer such a baby.”

You moved your head up, glaring at the menace who hovered over you. One gloved hand steadied your hip, the other holding a needle embedded into your skin. Even through the cheap plastic, his warmth made your skin tingle. His classic shit-eating grin crinkled his cheeks, eyes still trained on your stomach, well aware you were staring him down.

His wicks were pulled back, the screen of his phone making his piercings shimmer. His eyebrows were a little furrowed- focused on the design. Aside from his tensed face, his body was relaxed and calm, almost drowsy.

He was so fucking pretty.

“What’s wit’ th’ starin doll.”

You raised your eyebrows, suddenly the world around you becoming a lot more focused. “Hm? I wasn’t staring.”

Hobie met your eyes for the first time in 30 minutes, only for them to harbor doubt. His grin was gentler now, and the stillness of the room soon became incredibly loud.

He shrugged, looking back at your stomach. “Whateva you say.”

Another shot of pain went up your spine and you gasped, clamping your lips shut. Hobie chuckled below you. “So sensitive.”

“This is my first time- Hobs.” You hissed through your clenched teeth.

He met your gaze again, this time his classic suggestive grin spreading on his face like butter.

You rolled your eyes. “Not like that- you perv.”

“Oi, I didn’t say nothin’.”

You leaned your head back, feeling the beads of sweat collect under your neck. Was it stupid to get your first tattoo on your stomach- on the pelvis no less? Maybe. But hey- it sure as hell looked cool. However, now that you’re laying on the bed with sore muscles from tensing them this whole session, you began to regret your decision.

Hobie moved his hands up to you waist, then slid down back to your hip. “Try and relax- yeah? I’m almost done.”

You sighed harshly, partly frustrated with yourself, but also with Hobs.

Your mind floated to the conversation you had a couple days ago, laying on his bed, your clothes scattered across his flat.

▔︎▔︎▔︎▔︎

You heard the familiar rustling of his pants being put on, the click of the belt and the snap of his boots.

You scrolled through your phone, eyes half lidded in drowse, the smell of incense wafted between the two of you. You couldn’t be bothered to put your clothes on, his sheets feeling much too soft.

Hobie, despite his rough and ragged persona, had one of the comfiest flats you’d been in. Layered with cotton and satin chairs and sofas, most likely stolen. His bed, however, was the epitome of it all.

Softest sheets that were never too hot and never too cold, and a comforter that smelled exactly like him. Pillows with patterns that did not compliment each other well, but extremely comfortable none the less.

Your eyes drifted to his back. Small little drawings- some silly and others with more meaning- scattered across his toned muscle.

You were not in the slightest embarrassed about staring at your boyfriend (unless he caught you), which meant you knew nearly every detail about his body. But, sometimes things surprised you. This time, it was his tattoos.

His shirt slipped over them, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips.

He turned to you, smirking, “I can take it back off if yer really that desperate.”

Your eyebrows knitted in protest- nose wrinkling in the way that he liked. “I’ll pass- but uhm..”

He sat on the bed, facing you with lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I think I want a tattoo.”

His eyes widened with surprise. “Eh? Since when?”

“Since now.”

He blinked, his mouth twisting into a grin. The idea excited him- he always thought you’d look hot with ink. Maybe it was a little selfish to indulge in his fantasies, but hey- you offered first.

“I’m pr’tty good them, y’know. All it takes is a stick n’ a poke.” You laughed, leaning your head on your palm.

“You know what? Why not.”

He leaned forward, placing a giddy kiss on your lips. You savored the taste of him- musky and smokey. He backed away, eyes drifting from your lips to your body.

“Where do ya’ want it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know- you pick.”

He raised a brow at you, a challenge.

“Ya’ sure?

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. He smiled back, less sweetly. Something in your head told you that maybe you should’ve picked, but the cogs in his head were already turning. It was too late to change your mind.

He flipped you over, your bear body now completely exposed. However, there wasn’t anything sexual about the way his eyes trailed down your body. As he looked for a spot he liked, you smiled up at him, admiring how cute he was when he was focused. He didn’t like it when you called him that- didn’t match his rough and rumble, but who was gonna stop you from thinking it?

He smirked, before placing a warm hand below your belly button.

“Here.��

You sat up on your elbows, sending him a skeptical look. “You really want my first tattoo to be above my junk?”

He looked back at you, chuckling at your use of ‘junk’. “Why not.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You just think it’ll be sexy, don’t you.”

He shrugged. “Nothin’ wrong with sexy, darlin. But no- I’d never.”

You raised your eyebrow at him, before groaning and sitting up to meet him in the middle. You could feel his breath against yours, eyes locked.

On one hand, you were terrified of putting something so permanent on your body. But on the other, Hobie was right. It did kinda make you feel like a badass.

“Alright- fine. But I get to pick the design.”

“Deal.”

You sealed the promise with a kiss. He leaned you back into the pillows, and you laughed into his mouth, weak hands pushing him back. “Hobs we have to-“

“Shhhh. Jus’ lemme kiss you.”

▔︎▔︎▔︎▔︎▔︎

“Done.”

Hobie’s voice broke you from your thoughts. In excitement you sat up, but quickly laid back down when and ache prickled at your abdomen.

He laughed above you, setting the tools on your makeshift tray (a kitchen plate) and crawled up to meet your mouth.

“You’re gonna have to wait a minute darlin.”

You glared at him. “You suck.”

He faked gasped, laughter in his eyes as he leaned in closer. “How could you say that to yer devoted artist!”

You rolled your eyes. “I deeply apologize, from the bottom of my heart.” You milked your apology, your own shit-eating grin spreading across your face.

He smiled down at you. “Yer funny.”

“I know.”

He kissed you, and suddenly the pain didn’t feel as bad anymore. His course hands drifted up your hips, your waist, your ribs, then to your-

You grabbed his hands, pulling away from the kiss and gave him a knowing look. “You said I have to wait- so you do too.

He groaned, kissing your cheek and moving down to your neck. “Consider ‘t aftercare?”

You laughed, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “No. It’s prolly gonna mess up your masterpiece anyway.”

He flopped beside you, nearly pouting. You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the pain starting to subside.

“Hey darlin?”

“Yes Hobie?”

“Yer…uh. You were right- about me pickin’ th’ spot cus it looked sexy.”

You slapped his chest and he laughed, taking your hand in his. He turned to you, brown eyes sparkling with mischief and something he doesn’t care to admit.

“It also looks pretty badass.”

“Hobie that’s like- the same thing in your book.”

He laughed. “Yeah,” his hand interlocked with yours, eyes moving to the ceiling.

“I guess yer right.”

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

hope you enjoyed ❤︎

[lovesclinic]

i am. putting on lots of red lipstick and kissing all over hobie n miles’s faces. all over

miles

“mmm, kisses. can't get enough of them." he groaned softly, his head tilted back as you apply the lipstick generously. he closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips on his skin.

as you begin to plant kisses all over his face, he starts to become more aroused. His hips begin to grind against the bed, seeking more contact with you. His breathing quickens as he feels the heat between your lips and the coolness of the lipstick on his skin.

when you're done, he grins widely, the red color standing out against his dark skin beautifully. "that's m' girl," he compliments with a chuckle before leaning in closer to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

“mmmph," he groans into the kiss, his hands finding their way up your thighs under your dress. he whispers against your lips, "don't stop, baby." his tongue traces along your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you willingly grant him.

hobie

you hear knocks on your apartment door and answer it, its hobie but he looks injured. hes not open to you about him being spiderman, but with him showing up to your door like THIS you have a right to have your suspicions. you can tell that hes hurt as he pretends to be fine.

Hes leaning on your door frame “what ya doin luv?” He winces slighty and decides to let himself in

feeling the sting in his heart, Hobie tried to focus on the sensations around him as he leaned against the door frame. His gaze followed you, watching you meticulously apply the vibrant red lipstick, making sure it was perfectly applied.

as you step closer, your lips brush against his cheek, leaving a stain of the bold color behind. Your lips press softly against his, tasting the sweetness of the lipstick mixed with his own salty taste

despite the pain, hobie couldn't help but respond to your touch, his lips parting slightly to deepen the kiss. his hands reached up to hold your waist, pulling you closer still.

“mmm..." he moans into the kiss, closing his eyes as you trail more kisses along his jawline and up to his earlobe, nipping softly. The sensation sends shivers down his spine, and he leans into you, wanting more.

as you pull away, his hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warmth from your skin mixed with the cool sensation of the lipstick. “you know you drive me wild with this kinky stuff, luv,”

[gejo333]

Midnight Cravings

Miguel O’Hara x Pregnant Reader

Summary: Your craving for sweets is crazy during your pregnancy. But Miguel being the caring father and husband he is only allows you to eat healthy.

Needed one more day for Chapter Two of “El Destino.” To apologize here is a sweet and funny one-shot.

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You leaned on the kitchen counter happily enjoying the day as you pop another piece of chocolate candy into your mouth. Being only in your first semester, you were slightly surprised by how big your bump has gotten. A chuckle escaped your throat by the thought of being surprised when your husband was a giant himself. At least compared to you.

Before you could pop another sweet candy in your mouth, the bag was snatched away from you.

“Heyy! Give that back!” Your lips quiver, tears threaten to come out as you stare up at your husband.

“No cariño. These chocolates aren’t healthy for you and the baby. If you’re hungry I made you some healthy snacks to munch on.” With his other hand he opened the fridge and grabbed a container putting it in front of you.

“But Miggy.” You whined as you kept up the sad act. Miguel dumped the candy into the trash. He walked to you and pulled you into a loving embrace. He took your chin and lifted it towards him as he leaned down to give you a sweet kiss.

“I hate seeing you this way. But it’s best to eat healthy so you and our baby get all the right nutrients.”

“I know. But the craving for sweets can be so strong sometimes and I can’t help myself. It annoys me that you won’t let me indulge. But I know your looking out for me and the baby and I love you for that. I’ll try to be better.” You go on your toes to give him another kiss, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for understanding, mi amor. I have to go to HQ for a bit. But please call me on the watch if you need anything. I’ll be right over. See you in a bit.” He kissed you again before fiddling with his watch to open a portal. He turns around to look at you one more time before going into the portal.

…

During the rest of the day, now hitting nighttime you busied yourself with some tv, laundry, and yoga. You tried to eat some of the snacks, but every time you took a bite of fruit or vegetable your tastebuds begged something sweet to grace your tongue.

Sadly the only candy you had was taken from you by your husband. You grumbled to yourself about your husband. You loved him to the moon and back, but it wasn’t fair that he wouldn’t let you indulge your cravings.

It was starting to get late as a yawn escaped from you. Miguel wouldn’t be back for a few more hours. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, Miguel doesn’t go into work until noon to either get chores done or spend a late morning with you.

You got ready for bed and got yourself comfortable in between the covers. As soon as your head hits the pillow your mind drifts off into dreamland.

…

You woke up to a semi-silent room. Only the soft snores of your husband filling the room. You turn to see the clock on the side of your bed. It was half past 1. Turning to the other side, you smile at the peaceful state your husband was in. Your heart filled with joy when he was able to get a good nights rest.

A small groan left your lips as the sudden craving for something sweet rushed over you. You gently moved your husband’s arm from around you and replaced it with a pillow, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and notice your absence.

After a careful scare of him slightly moving, worried he woke up you tip toed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You went towards the freezer as you remembered there was a tub of mint chip ice cream.

You grabbed a spoon and take a huge scoop, quickly putting it into your mouth. The contrast of the cold treat in your warm mouth was comforting. A moan escaped from your lips from how delicious this ice cream was. So distracted by munching on your treat you didn’t notice the figure standing behind you.

Your body jumped slightly when you felt arms wrap around your waist. You internally groan as your husband had woken up. God damn him for being a light sleeper.

“Amor, what are you doing in the kitchen so late?”

“Eating ice cream.” Your worlds muffled by the spoon in your mouth. You felt his head rest on your shoulder as he left a few kisses on your neck. You felt him sigh.

“Your not going to stop are you?”

“Nope!” Another muffled reply from you. You stopped stuffing your face and slightly turn your head to look at him. You place your hand on his cheek.

“But I promise to still eat healthy and minimize my cravings.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” Miguel kissed you on the lips. “Mint chip. My favorite.” He hummed in between kisses, which made you chuckle.

“Mine too.” You added placing one last kiss on his lips.

“Cariño, who is giving you these sweets?” He asked. You internally groan as you wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

“Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr.” You say quietly hoping he doesn’t hear, but the ‘I’m going to murder those three,’ smile appears on his face. You chuckle at his reaction to your response. You just hoped those kids would see the next day after Miguel was done with them.

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Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[badchoicesworld]

how i think Hobie would react to GN!reader calling them their husband casually, even though they’re not married.

Hobie Brown x GN!reader

established relationship, of course

warnings: none

requests: open i am BEGGING for requests i’m so bored

hobie, hobie brown !

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

okay, so we all know that hobie doesn’t believe in labels, but he also doesn’t believe in consistency so shhh

i’ve gotta imagine marriage is something he both hates and loves- the societal expectations for just two people to become legally bonded in these massive money wasting ceremonies just rubs him the wrong way

all a scam and propaganda to distract you from the truth with a passing moment of false sense of security, yeah ?

sooo if you just spontaneously call him ur husband one day, hobie is smitten because fuck norms am i right

like if it’s super off handed when ur with the other spider-people the brit is just so very overjoyed

“ay, yeh- you get that? you hear that? hus-band! that’s my hubby.” really enjoys spelling out the syllables, probably sling an arm around you at this point and is holding you so close while grinning like an anarchist that just tripped a cop into a puddle

you guys never called yourself labels like “partners” “boyfriends” or any of that, but Hobie’s a little obsessed w names like “hubby” and generally endearing names for spouses

isn’t a fan of the whole wedding band thing, yet another thing that’s robbing people blind with price of diamonds n shit

if you’re both comfortable just knowing that you love each other beyond what a piece of paper says, then he’s more than content to just happily know this and not do anything to beat the whole significance behind your guys’ rebellious approach to marriage

it’s your happy little secret how it went down. you both know it and your whole relationship has been a “we know we love each other, doesn’t matter what we call it or who else knows” kinda situation, because why would anyone else matter at point ?

that being said, mans less low-key around people like Miguel just because he loves to do everything in his power to make his life just a bit worse, because fuck authority

will talk about a non existent honeymoon that simply never happened, there are dozens of different retellings of this event that are completely fabricated

“remember on our honeymoon? when we- yeah, that’s it. still can’t believe we took down that syndicate.”

“Nah, they’ve got it. On our honeymoon, they [insert a comedic falsehood]”

likes to quote the wedding vows you guys never said, climbing through your window at night after being involved in a smack down, man’s roughed up and he’s just like “through sickness and in health” like a smug bastard before probably collapsing onto something. or you

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

this was a super quick thing i whipped together on a bus, lemme know if you wanna see this w different characters and i’ll see what i can do !

[madyoghurt]

soooo what about fic where hobie using y/n's moans for a song and they find out like when the song drop and they're like shocked as hell because lets be honest here he would sooo do that

"I HAVE SOMETHIN' TO SHOW YOU!" Hobie shouts from the doorway, making you drop the spoon that you were using to shove your face full of icecream a minute ago.

"Jesus christ, Hobes." You sigh, picking the spoon up off the floor. "What is it?"

He bites his lip. "Just come on!" He saids before turning around and walking out. You shrug and follow him, he leads you to the recording studio and you already think you have an idea. "You finish another song?" You ask.

"Yeah, but theres a suprise innit.." he saids before walking over to his setup. "Jus' have a listen, yeah?" You fold your arms over your chest, walking over and slumping down on an old bean bag. Hobie takes this as his cue to press play, punk music blaring through the speakers, its a good 1:30 minute song, very few lyrics, yet still getting the point across. You nod along, still not sure what to expect.

Its gets sorta quieter as a guitar riff takes lead, but its not too overpowering, making room for.. what the hell was that?

You double take, leaning foward to make sure you're not hearing things. There it is again, a desparate mewl rings through the speakers, followed by heavy pants and moans that seem to have a rythmn. Your mouth hangs open at the realization.

~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~

You're on your elbows and knees, hair swaying back and forth as Hobie fucks you from behind, nearly making you cry with how good it feels. He leans over and grabs a tape recorder from the nightstand. "You sound so beautiful, imma make a single outta this.." He pants, pressing record and placing it down infront of you. Too delirious to question Hobie, you keep gasping and whining as he fucks you from a new angle, hitting your g-spot just right.

~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~

You connect the dots, standing up and walking over to him. "IS THAT ME!?" you ask, too shocked to even be mad. Hobie cant help but bite back a giggle, leaning against the desk with a hand on his hip. "What'd'ya fink?" He asks, staring at you with a shit-eating grin.

"I-" your mouth opens, but you're not even sure what to say, you dont know what to 'fink'. "Denfinetly.. creative, uhm.. I think you're insane." You say bluntly, Hobies bubbling laughter making your lips quirk up just a teeensy bit.

Wasnt sure how to finish this 😭 hope its still something

[yourslvtywhor3]

hobie brownnnn 😌

He has many songs for you

Hobie loves to write your name on his arms with sharpie or anywhere

he loves you even more when you wear his rock band shirts

he definitely talks in his sleep

calls you things like “luv and dove” etc

any concert he has to preform he will always mention you to his fans

Play fights everyday

loves being big spoon

horror movie marathon

teaches you how to play on his guitar

you have a necklace with a red guitar pick dedicated to him

loves going to 7/11 to get Arizona tea’s

if you ask this man to go into a bounce house with you he will go with you, no questions asked

loves taking you to arcades or a carnaval

personally would appreciate if you like and follow bc y not help a small creator ☺️

[messylustt]

Ok a little thing for hobie (reader has nipple piercings)

You and hobie are just laying around the flat minding your business when hobie sees you kinda in pain and he asks what's wrong and,well, since you're comfortable with him you say ' I'm gonna be honest with you, sometimes my nipples itch and hurt and it's hard with the piercings ' and hobie's like ' I can help with that ' and proceeds to suck on your titties ndjdkx

friends help friends — hobie brown ( nsfw ). longer name. hobie soothing your sore nipples with his tongue. how sweet of him.

hobie eyes you as you shift on the couch, gaze distracted by your phone. you keep re-adjusting your shirt and hobie keeps noticing more and more. until he speaks up. “ya alright’ there?” you glance at him, nodding at first before pausing. “actually…this may sound weird…and is probably a little too much information — ” hobie shifts closer to you, along the couch, shaking his head.

“ya do realise i tell ya shit that don’ even make sense half the time…righ’?” you knock your head back and forth, semi agreeing.“alright…” you say, shifting to face him better. “ever since i got my nipples pierced they’ve always been either itchy or sore…to the point that it just…you know.” you say, eyeing him. hobie had glanced down, staring at your tits as he tilted his head. he’d noticed your nipple piercings recently, sometimes poking through a comfy shirt. he shifts closer to you, still staring.

“mus’ be annoyin’.” he comments, his fingers moving to the bottom of your shirt as you hum a ‘yeah, just a bit’. but then hobie’s slender fingers are skimming up your shirt, before grazing across the metal bar of your nipple piercing — still over the material. “does tha’ hurt?” he meets your gaze, hand now hovering. your breathing had hitched at his close action, as you lick your lips.“kinda…”

“hm.” hobie hums, going back to the bottom of your skirt, as he lifts it — just a fraction. you watch him closely, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. “ya need any help?” hobie asks, continuing to slowly lift your shift. “what?” your mind is a little fuzzy. hobie chuckles as he continues to draw the material up, then he’s muttering “lift ya arms f’me.”

and for some reason you do, letting hobie remove your shirt. no bra. it was night time. so, of course no bra. hobie eyed your chest, before he wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him making you choke on your breathing again. “jus’ a friend helpin’ a friend.” he mutters, catching your slightly wide gaze. and then his tongue is out and licking at one of your nipples, making you slightly gasp.

hobie tightens his hold around you, making his mouth easily accessible to wrap his full lips around your nipple, the cold metal feeling nice on his tongue. your back is arched into him as your head begins to loll, hobie’s sucking and licking turning far more prominent as he basically makes out with your nipple, his cooling spit actually doing wonders for the burn and itch.

“h — hobie…” you breathe out, as he just hums against your tit. “tha’ feel better?…want some help with the other?” he asks, already moving his mouth towards it. “uh…yeah…” you manage making him grin as he eagerly sucks your nipple, his tongue swirling sloppily, as his lip ring grazes part of your soft skin. “mm…feelin’ better?” he asks, you now partially on his lap. his spit is all over your tits and in all honesty hobie doesn’t want to stop but your pulling his head back by a soft grip to his hair, making him meet your gaze.

“what brought that on?” you breathe heavy. but hobie doesn’t answer, getting out of your hold as he wraps his lips back around your nipple making a choked whimper fall from your mouth. “i think you need a bit more help, babe…” hobie says, kitten licking part of your tits now as he hums in approval, gradually growing a tad addicted.

“yeah…i can help…don’ worry…jus’ relax…that’s it…hook your leg over my lap…make it easier f’me…” you hadn’t at first realised how eager hobie was to help you. and hobie hadn’t at first realised just how good your tits would taste.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[wwwbestgoredotcom]

The Aftermath <33

Warnings : smut implications, fluff, nudity, etc etc

Tags : NSFW, romance, fluff

Characters included : Hobie Brown, afab reader

Other : I love him sm oml

An hour. A long one too. Maybe it's been more than an hour. You lost track of time pretty early on. It's been hour(s) of Hobie and you throwing eachother around, moans, groans, clapping sounds, and bed creaking filled the room. You had tears and drool running down your face. A couple new hickeys on each of you.

At this point you can't even feel your legs. Or insides. Even Hobies legs are shaking a bit. This was the longest sessions you two had had in a while. But it felt so good.

Now, you two held eachother close. Both of your trembling legs interlocking with eachother. Hobies eyes fill with love as they look at your fucked out face. You both look hypnotized by eachother.

'Fuck...I can't feel my brain' you mutter into the crook of hobies neck. He chuckles and kisses your head. 'I love you, baby' he mutters. 'I love you too' you reply. You two share a couple tender kisses.

'You did so good, luv...' hobie mutters in between kisses. 'So good...'. You melt at his praise and every other praise before that. 'I love lookin' at your fucked ou' face after all this.' You hum in response, a bit too tired to say really anything anymore.

'Are you thirsty? I can get you water,' Hobie looks down at you as you nod in response. You loosen your grip on him and he get out of bed with a groan. He puts his boxers and sweatpants back on and gives you a peck on the forehead before leaving the room.

You lay alone in your shared bedroom. After a while you think about at least putting on your bra or panties on. You sit up, looking around the floor for your clothes, only to spot them on the other side of the room. Not having the strength to get up, you lay back down with a groan, waiting for Hobie.

Minutes pass and he's still not back. He said he was only getting water, what's taking so long? You turn on some music on his mini speaker in your room, turning the music a little low so it's not too deafening.

After a while, probably 20 or 30 minutes later, Hobie comes back. He has a glass of water in one hand, his other hand holding a tray with a whole pizza on it, and a small towel on his shoulder. 'I made frozen pizza. Sorry I took so long.' He says. You scoot over to one side of the bed so he can put the pizza on the bed. He hands you the water, which you drink almost all of, and goes to look for your clothes.

He finds your bra and panties and hands them to you, mumbling the lyrics to the song playing as he does. He takes out one of your baggy shirts that you usually go to sleep in from the closet and hands it to you too, which you put on also.

He sit next to you on the bed, moving the pizza a bit. You take a slice and start eating it as he grabs the small towel from his shoulder and wipes sweat from your face, neck, and arms. When he's done, he pampers the side of your face with kisses, making you let out a small laugh.

He takes a slice of pizza too and starts eating, one of his arms around your waist. Once you're done with your slice, he says, 'Have you gone to the bathroom already?' You reply with a no. 'Go to the bathroom before you eat again. Always pee after sex. Go,' he says practically shooing you out of the room and to the bathroom.

When you get back, he's eating his next slice. 'I got us more water if you want some, luv,' Hobie says, referring to the two new water bottles on the nightstand. You nod and get back to bed, eating more pizza. His hand goes back to your waist and you lean your head on his shoulder. He taps his finger to the melody of the song playing on your waist as you two eat.

You turn to him. 'I love you,' you smile. Hobie smiles back. 'Love you too, baby.' He kisses your head as you two continue to finish the pizza.

[mewhenimanangel]

arrogant, hobie brown

pairing: hobie brown x reader

synopsis: you couldn’t stand hobie. he was so arrogant and always thinks his way is the best and only way

wc: 2.0k

warnings!: swearing, weed, nsfw, oral sex (f and m receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex

currently you were curled up on hobie's couch watching as miles and pav played one of his dimensions’ video games. you giggled at how rowdy they were getting while gwen tried to calm them down. hobie dangled upside down on his chair telling them they were doing it all wrong.

you became a spider person not too long ago, about ten months now when a spider fell on your arm and bit you while you were out shopping. when your uncle ben died you were devastated until you had to fight his killer. except it wasn’t his killer from your universe. an orange and purple wormhole popped in out of nowhere and a muscular man jumped through to help you defeat him.

after that he told you all about spider society and invited you in. you quickly became the best of friends with miles, gwen, and pavitr. hobie, not so much. you wouldn’t say you hated him, you still considered him a friend but he was annoying. so caught up in his punk way of life he always thought what he was doing was the right way of doing things. it even caused a bit of trouble on missions.

speaking of mission…”nah mate, i took goblin down like bang! so quick no problems” hobie told pav. you scoffed at his retelling of the story. “something funny, love?” hobie glanced at you. “yeah, that lie you just told” you chuckled. “pardon?” “there was not ‘no problems’! we almost blew the mission thanks to your arrogant ass” you rolled your eyes sitting up right.

“arrogant?!” hobie exclaimed, rising from his chair. “yes! you literally threw the bomb at goblin even though it could’ve killed all those people!” you said getting up from your chair as well. “oh my days! but i didn’t. cannot believe you are still stuck on that” he moved closer to you. “i know what i’m doing sweetheart” “yeah i’m sure you do” you scoffed staring up at his face. you two stayed like that for a minute, silently challenging each other to say something until gwen coughed making you snap out of it.

“i’m going to the bathroom” you rolled your eyes moving through hobie’s hallways. when you got back from the bathroom the rest of them were gone and hobie was on his couch tuning his guitar. he was leaned back with his long legs spread, joint in hand. the way his dim lights casted a shadow on his face and over his faded eyes made him look so fucking sexy. “i got something on my face?” he chuckled, looking over at you.

you rolled your eyes “where’d they all go?” you asked him. “went back to their dimensions, gwendy had bit of an emergency and miles needed to get home ‘fore those parents of his chew his head off” he answered, taking a hit. “okay, well bye then” you mumbled about to open your watch to tune it to your universe. “hold on, you don’t want a smoke?” hobie asked holding out the blunt to you. you thought it over for a moment before taking it from him.

“knew i could get you to stay” he smirked as you sat down next to him. “whatever” you said taking another hit, leaving lipgloss on the blunt. “why d’you hate me so much, love?” he turned his head to you leaning it back on the chair. “cause you’re annoying” “think you’re just uptight” he teased, taking the blunt from you. he loved to upset you you were so cute when you were mad, it did something to him.

“god you’re so fucking a-“ “arrogant? yeah what’s all that about, you really think i’m arrogant princess?” he was getting closer and closer to your face, eyes flicking down to your lips that were positioned in a scowl. “yes, you’re an annoying, arrogant, thinks he knows it all son of a bitch-“ you were interrupted by hobie’s lips crashing into yours.

his guitar was discarded to the ground as his hands snaked around your neck. “love it when you degrade me princess” he whispered, catching your lips again. “you’re sick” you spat, feeling him smirk against your mouth. he pulled you on his lap and pulled away from the kiss to take a hit from the blunt. he put it to the side in an ashtray and grabbed your face bringing it closer to his mouth. he shotgun the smoke into your mouth before pulling you back into the kiss. “why’ve we never done this? i would have my tongue in your pretty mouth 24/7 if i could” you hummed a little hearing his words.

you weren’t in your spider costumes so it made it so much easier for him to rip your t shirt off throwing it across the room. you were left with your bare tits and hobie was staring at you like it was his first time seeing a woman. “fuck babe you been hiding all this? you’re fucking fit” he said moving a hand out to fondle your breast and tug at your nipple, earning a moan from you.

he smirked before pulling your chest closer to his mouth, latching onto your boob while his fingers groped at its twin. his hand was so rough against you, squeezing tight while his teeth grazed against your nipple. you moaned out in ecstasy, hand shooting out to his hair. you felt his dick growing stiff underneath you and you leaned back to climb off his lap and on your knees.

you reached out to undo his layered belts “do you really need all this?” you rolled your eyes pulling down his jeans. “you keep rolling those eyes like i won’t have them rolling back in a few minutes.”

he said pulling his shirt off. you admired his soft ab line littered with scars and tattoos, his veiny v line on display. you tugged his penis out of his boxers, dick springing to life standing at seven inches. you ogled at its pretty dark skin color with a blush colored tip, veins stretching down it with a very slight curve to the right.

“pretty, innit” he chuckled. he loved the way your pretty manicured hand tightly wrapped about his length. you licked his tip, smirking at the sharp inhale you heard from him. you sunk your mouth down the head of his dick, using your hand to jerk him off. his hand snaked down to your hair, grabbing a handful and using it to push your mouth down further. it threw you off a bit but you found your footing again letting your tongue work over him. you moved your other hand to squeeze at his balls, taking his whole length into your mouth.

he jumped a bit feeling his tip hit the back of your throat, was that a whimper you just heard? he brushed your hair out of your face looking at your sultry eyes staring back at him. “you look so good like this, with my cock in your mouth. taking me so well, keep that up i won’t be able to last much l-longer”

you felt proud that you had this effect on him, the ability to make him stutter. “i bet this what you wanted the whole time. all that barking when all you really wanted was a good fuck” he pushed your head down further, the tip of your nose brushing against his pubic hair. “f-fuck keep working that pretty mouth baby, m’close” he groaned. “fuck pretty girl, m’gonna cum” he moaned out. and so he did, you took your mouth off him watching as his cum flowed down his dick.

you stuck your tongue out licking up and down his dick, taking any last drop of cum into your mouth. “bloody hell y/n, who knew you were so slutty” he teased, pulling you back in his lap. he pulled your head smushing his lips against yours, tongue slithering its way in your mouth. you reached for his hand and brought it to the top of your shorts, moaning when he pressed on your clit through your clothes.

“tell me what you want, love” he whispered against your neck, sucking to leave a bruise. “fuck hobes i want you to touch me!” you whined, grinding against his dick. “‘course you do baby, who wouldn’t” he smirked pushing you to your feet, laying back on the sofa. “what are you doing?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him. “want you to ride my face, doll” he smirked at the way your face got hot. “a-are you sure? what if i suffocate you or something” you giggled. “then i’ll die a happy man” he smiled.

you pulled off your shorts, panties coming down with it. “damn you’re perfect. don’t get me wrong that spider suit makes you look fit but damn the real thing is even better.” he grabbed your hand and pulled you to straddle his waist. “just come ahead baby, i’ll be fine” you followed his instructions and crawled over his face, hovering in nervousness. he grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his face, burying it deep in your cunt. a moan ripped out you when you felt his tongue lick against your entrance.

you resisted the urge to grind your hips against his face but he roughly gripped your hips forcing them to ride. he licked and sucked at your pussy while you subtly rode against his face. he squeezed against the curve of your ass pushing you down as far as you could go as if you could fuse to his mouth. you felt so vulnerable sitting above his gaze, perfect view of your tits and your squirming face.

the way his nose pressed against your clit while his tongue lapped at your pussy was sending you over the edge. “h-hobes m’gonna cum!” you moaned out. he rubbed circles against your thigh and you reached your orgasm, sending cum all over his mouth. you caught your breath, leaning over on the chair bar before you crawled back down to hobie’s waist. “you’re fucking delicious, love” he leaned up to catch your mouth in a kiss.

he held you in his laps, arms wrapping around you while your tongues danced around in your mouth. he flipped you over to lay you down on the couch, fully removing his boxers. “ion got rubber though” he told you “just pull out” you told him. he was still hard and he lined his dick up with your entrance, gently pushing himself inside you.

it got less gentle from there, skin slapping and your loud moans drowned the noise out from hobie’s noisy world. “fuck babe, you’re milking me dry” he groaned, reaching his hand down to play with your nipple other hand on the chair bar to hold him steady. he leaned down to kiss you again and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. the new found angle made his dick hit right on your g-spot. “fuck hobie! harder” you cried out in his ear. he roughly thrust into you making the couch squeak. he was sure he’d hear some complaints from his neighbors, but what the hell does he care.

your nails dug into his back leaving scratch marks down it. “h-hobie, i’m gonna cum” you whined. “go ahead beautiful” you came, eyes rolling back in your head as you heaved out a satisfied sigh. “not done yet babe” hobie kept going, quickly pulling out when he felt himself close.

he jerked himself for a second before shooting cum on your stomach, throwing his head back in satisfaction. he smiled back down at you “still hate me love?” you scoffed hiding the smile that dared to show on your face. “i’ll let you think that over” he laughed getting up and tugging his boxers back on.

he came back to clean the cum off your stomach and wipe the smudged lipgloss and runny mascara off your face. “you want a shower?” he asked holding your hand and helping you up. “that’s okay, i should head home anyway.” you answered putting back on your shorts. “if you say so. should do this again, like all the time” he smirked at you. “thought you don’t believe in consistency” you teased him tugging on your t shirt.

“only if it’s with you” he said as you opened the portal to your dimension, walking in.

[deathc-re]

do you take requests? if so can I ask for more of your Hobie headcanons plz??

-🌻

an: don't let me down the rabbit hole cause i have so many lmao

hobie has a tongue piercing. you knew it, he knew it; everyone knew it. but what y'all don't know is that he'd bought a vibrating one to surprise you with.

it's a regular night, things get hot as they usually do between you two, but when he dutifully places himself between your legs, a rhythmic humming sound catches your attention. before you can push up onto your elbows and look at him with question a harsh feeling is put onto your clit. you gasp at the sensation and as it only intensifies, becoming more pleasurable with each swipe of his tongue, you can't help but moan.

he bought it for himself as much as he bought it for you. he loved pleasing you, every twitch and shudder of your body making his already hard dick painfully harder.

it soon became too much for you, the sucking, the vibrating, his fingers against your nipples, his encouraging grunts and looks. your fingers found their way to his hair, gripping a few wicks which only seemed to spur him on. your eyes shut tightly as your legs clamped around his head.

ecstasy took over your body as stars took your vision. your body shook, your voice trembled, and your boyfriend couldn't be more proud of himself. praising himself smugly in his head as he lapped up all your arousal.

"i take it you like the new ring." he chuckled, sitting back and maneuvering himself out of his boxers.

[spyderlady]

dating hobie brown would include

(gif by fyspiderverse)

note: just some random headcanons i came up with while on my way home from uni. and please i don't want any hobie brown police telling me he wouldn't do these because blah blah. they're called headcanons for a reason. also very rushed but i really wanted to write something for him because im so in love with him ahhhhhh hes so cool <3

ꗃ pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

ꗃ warnings: slight mention of blood and needles

summary: things the two of you'd do when he's not doing spider-punk things <333

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★ hobie and your favorite past time is definitely making custom bagpins out of metal bottle caps. he adores the ones you craft for him and puts them up all over his jacket

★ he made you a "perfect little punk' bagpin once and it's your favorite. you never take it off your bag

★ going to the thrift store and spending hours together browsing through clothes you'd style each other in

★ you however love stealing his clothes. especially his crop tops, however they aren't very cropped on you

★ messily painting each others nails black which later turns into a sloppy makeout session. it ruins your freshly painted nails, every damn time

★ you love watching him tune his guitar. he's so focused and into it

★ sometimes he'd want you to sit on his lap while he does it

★ late night guitar sessions with him as he teaches you how to strum a perfect note. you're not very good at it but he's very proud of you regardless

★ hobie whispering "who's my perfect little punk, eh?" into your ear while you're outside knowing damn well what it does to you

★ getting an immense amount of stares when you're out with him. it's definitely because of that height difference

★ he pierced your tongue at home with a sewing needle while you sat on the bathroom floor, scared for dear life.

★ you had almost passed out that day. not due to the pain but because you forgot to breathe even after he repeatedly asked you to. it did bleed but you're just surprised it didn't get infected

★ "good job, my little rockstar," he whispered, kissing you on your bloody lips