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naeverse · 11 months ago

Text

The Black Rose

🖤 staring: Tattoo Artist Miguel O’Hara x female reader

◽preview:

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

🖤 summary:

At The Bloody Inks, the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, you meet the skilled, stone-cold and attractive tattoo artist, Miguel O’Hara. Seeking a tantalizing tattoo for your rear end, Miguel isn’t hesitant to get what he wants, especially if it’s a doll like you.

◽tw/cw: Butt Tattoo, Cunninglingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Lip piercings Miguel, Needles mentioned, Oral sex, Semi-public, Tattooed Miguel, etc…

🖤 Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Bebé (Baby)

◽Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🖤 Word Count: Around 9.6K

(I do not own any of the fanart or photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

You were used to getting tattoos, so what made this time any different?

You found yourself pondering that very question repeatedly, as you approached the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, 'Bloody Inks.'

Since the age of 18, you've adorned your body with small pieces of inked art, from your ankles to your shoulders. Despite your familiarity with tattoos, today marked a departure from the norm as you contemplated getting a substantial artwork for the first time.

But that wasn't what made you nervous…

It was where you were getting it.

You had a little bet with your friends about your next tattoo, and to your dismay, the idea of a butt tattoo became the central topic.

Secretly desiring one, you were always hesitant due to fears of pain and discomfort on such elastic tissue, the thought of undressing completely from the waist down only added to the nerves.

Yet, here you were, opening the door to the notorious shop…

A bell rang at your arrival along with the crackle of a searing guitar and thunderous drumbeats playing from a speaker. The music’s furious tempo of punk music overwhelmed your senses as you were hit with the smell of ink and antiseptic, and a hint of sandalwood. You stepped inside, your black tennis shoes, on wooden scuffed floors as your eyes roamed the dimly lit lobby before you.

A black leather sofa sat in one corner, a front desk before you, and a few sculptures and decorations covered the worn wooden floors. Despite everything inside, your attention was instantly captured by the gallery of designs that covered the black-brick walls of the tattoo parlor.

There were many sketches and finished pieces that were put on display, an assortment of vibrant colors and intricate details bringing life to the lobby. Mythical creatures, mandalas, floral designs, phrases, and abstract patterns decorated the walls, each one telling a different story and waiting to be chosen and etched onto willing skin.

The counter was empty when you arrived, a soft, dim glow of light hanging from chains on the ceiling cast an amber hue throughout the lobby. You stood patiently at the black desk, fiddling nervously with the bottom of your white t-shirt and pondering if you should go through with this tattoo…

“Oy! We have a customer!”

The loud outburst from a male with a British accent cut through the rather quiet lobby, making you jump. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest whilst you overheard the small conversation between the British male and who sounded like a female coming from further in the tattoo parlor.

“Gwendy, love, I’ve been dealing with the past few customers for a while now. Why not deal with this one, hmm?” The girl responded with a scoff.

“Hobie, you know you haven’t done shit.”

“Ah…you got me there love.” The British guy said with a chuckle. “Well, stop playing around and help the customer.” The girl laughed as you soon heard the sound of heavy footfalls becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t long before the identity of the British male was revealed to you.

The black curtains that separated the lobby from the back of the tattoo parlor opened to unveil an ebony guy with thick black hair and piercings. His hair was styled chaotically on his head, but you had a feeling it was purposeful with the way he carried himself. He had unmistakable confidence and not a care in the world for anyone. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, a black t-shirt covering his lean body as his combat boots thudded against the wooden floors.

He came behind the counter, turning his dark brown eyes upon you, instantly making you a little intimidated. “Aye, name’s Hobie, and welcome to the Bloody Inks. Are you here for a piercing or a tattoo, love?” He asked, his slender fingers locating a pen and notepad from his side of the desk.

You chewed your inner cheek, drumming your thumb against the handle of your small bag.

This was your last chance to back out…

To decide to go on with life without the tattoo on your rear or to face your fears and get the beautiful inking.

It wasn’t long before you already had your answer, giving the male before you a small smile. “I’m here for a tattoo.” You said bringing a smile to Hobie’s pierced lips. He glanced down at the notepad, his pen gliding across the page. “Can I see some ID?”

You were used to this question and already had your ID in hand, placing it into the ebony male’s palm. He barely glanced at it before returning it to you. “Nice, have you been to Bloody Ink’s before?” He asked, causing you to bite your lip nervously.

“No, this is my first time.” He looked up at you, his pierced lips pulled back into a smirk. “Ah, great! I’ll make sure the big boss does your tattoo then.” He said with a smile, but you couldn’t help becoming a little more anxious. The boss was going to be the one giving you your tattoo.

The tattoo on your bottom…

You gulped, hoping the male wasn’t scary-looking or a perv.

“O-kay!” Hobie exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts as he finished writing. “Now, I’ll give you a book to look over the designs whilst the boss finishes up in the back,” Hobie said, pulling a black, hardcover album from under the desk, placing it into your hand, then motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.

You followed along to his instructions, taking the black book in your hands and moving over to the leather couch where you sat down. Hobie then left, going behind the black curtains and drawing them close once more.

To pass the time and decide upon your tattoo, you look over the many designs inside the book. Each was skillfully sketched by hand and each held their own, unique form of beauty. Your eyes glazed over blazing skulls, graceful elephants, motivating quotes, to lastly land upon a beautiful flower.

You gasped, instinctively reaching out to trace a finger along the intricate lines of the sketch. You could already imagine the rose’s petals on your bottom, sprouting out in full bloom across your right, no… left cheek.

The circular pistil was visible and drawn so full of detail that it felt like it was jumping out at you. A few leaves could be seen peeking out the top of the rose as you felt like this design was for you.

Like it was drawing you in…

…

“Have you decided?”

A deep, husky voice asked inside of the quiet lobby. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping up to see someone was occupying the counter…

But it wasn’t Hobie…

A tanned male with a muscular, large build was now present. Standing tall and broad, his physique showed proof of his dedication to the wellbeing of his body due to his swell and bulging muscles. His chiseled features were framed by a strong, defined jawline, a sharp nose, and dark smoldering eyes.

His bronze skin held tattoos that were intricately etched on his skin, each design holding a mysterious story across the backs of his hands, on his arms, and even along his chest and neck. They accentuated the contours of his muscles and added even more allure to his already magnetic presence. He placed his hands on the desk, his eyes still trained on you, his taut body dressed in a mere black t-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he made such simple clothes look like it was woven by the gods.

You didn’t know how long you’d been gawking at him in utter shock and disbelief at the magnificence before you. It wasn't until he moved once more, beckoning to you with two inked fingers that you snapped out of your trance.

You gulped, gathered up your bag and the black album, and made your way to the counter.

The closer you got, the more attractive and intimidating he became. His bushy eyebrows were drawn low over his amber eyes and his mouth, holding two ringed piercings on the opposite ends of his lower lip, were pulled into a scowl.

He looked stern, but you pondered if that was just his usual look.

“So have you decided on what piece you wanted?” He asked again, but you were still baffled by how drop-dead gorgeous he was that you almost misheard him once more. “Y-yes.” You stammered, gulping thickly, your finger still holding the page of your desired sketch. He hummed, holding his large hand out to you, motioning to the black book. You complied, placing it open into his palm, the hardcover open to the page of your tattoo choice.

It felt relieving to not have his stern eyes on you anymore, his amber orbs looking at the sketch you’ve chosen in the book. You bit your lip nervously, eyes trained on him whilst he looked over the design before he turned his gaze back up at you. “You know that’s an ass tat, right?” He bluntly asked which made heat rise in the back of your neck.

“Y-Yes, I know.” You replied, causing his eyebrows to rise for a brief second in surprise. “Well…Okay then.” He said, closing the book and holding the page with his thumb. “I’m Miguel, I’ll be your tattoo artist for today.”

Your heart dropped at his words.

You didn’t know to feel excited or nervous as hell, knowing he’d be the one touching you so intimately. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long as he gave you a curt nod, a gesture that hopefully meant, 'You too.'

He motioned with his head to the back of the tattoo parlor, the entrance that was covered in black curtains. “Follow me.” He commanded in a gravelly tone. You gulped, following behind him through the black drapes to venture further into the tattoo parlor.

Instantly when you entered, the smell of ink and antiseptic became more potent, the sounds of the buzzing of the tattoo guns filled your ears along with the playful banter between the two artists from before.

“So Gwendy, you still believe just because you're in your twenties now that you can order me around?” Hobie asked the girl from across the room. She chuckled, looking away from her male client who was getting a skull tattooed onto his leg to over at Hobie. The girl had blonde, wavy hair and black piercings that covered her face. Two studs styled her eyebrow and a hooped one could be seen on her nose.

She smirked at the ebony male. “I didn’t say anything of the sort and stop calling me that. You know my name.” She laughed, eliciting a snort from Hobie. “Aye, but I like Gwendy better than Gwen.”

Miguel groaned in annoyance, looking between the two young artists. “Stop this nonsense and get to work.” He barked at Gwen and Hobie which surprised you, every muscle in his backside tensing up after his outburst. The conversation ceased to be replaced with just Miguel and your footsteps and the buzzing of the tattoo needles, but Miguel’s previous words didn’t seem to affect the two artists’ since after you both left, their conversation started up again.

Miguel grumbled under his breath, his grip on the black album tightening. You walked behind him down the hallway, his tall and broad being completely blocking your view around him. Every time you looked up, you came face to face with his muscular backside that was covered in his black T-shirt that looked to be straining against his musculature.

You clutched your purse while walking down the hallway to watch him enter a room. When you looked over, you saw a name tag on the door that read 'Miguel O'Hara.'

‘This must be his own personal tattoo room.’

You thought, your stomach clenching on cue as you followed him into the room. Your eyes instantly took in the attractive strangers’ workspace, the room you would also be spending the next hour or so in.

The tattoo room seemed to be more grand, more important than the one the two artists’ Gwen and Hobie were in. The walls were decorated, once more, with black and gray masterpieces of artwork, but these were more sci-fi and futuristic than the ones displayed in the lobby.

Spotlights hung from the ceiling carefully positioned to cast a focused radiance upon the vintage leather chair in the center of the room. The space smelled strongly of ink, antiseptic, men's cologne, and…

Smoke.

But not the typical smoke from a fire, more like from tobacco.

You couldn't help but wonder if the fine male smoked. You didn't want to assume or stereotype, but he looked like he would…

Your eyes soon graced over the main attraction of the room, the tattoo chair and station beside it. The seat had a black leather cushion that looked soft and very comfortable. It appeared, overall, brand new as if no one had hardly sat in it. A steel workstation was positioned beside the hot seat, the surface covered in an assortment of tools like a painter’s palette. The main one catching your eye was the needles and the gun.

You gulped, stepping more into the room as Miguel was rummaging through a nearby closet, the sound of metal and items clattering inside. He glanced momentarily over at the flower sketch inside of the black album before returning to get the items he needed.

You’ve learned, so far, that your tattoo artist was a rather quiet man. He barely spoke, and merely did things without providing a reason or explanation. He rummaged through the closet, next to the cabinets of a few counters and then a small chest in the room, trying to find all of the items he needed to, what you can infer, tattoo your desired choice onto your skin.

Your eyes never left him, watching his massive build transverse around the room, moving things, picking things up, putting them to the side all whilst holding an aura of unshakable coldness that dripped from his very being.

It was intimidating, yet alluring, nonetheless.

Once Miguel found the items he needed, he placed them onto the steel workstation.

With the way he was going about things, you would have thought he'd forgotten about your presence; as he was completely engrossed in what he was doing, placing a piece of stencil paper that held the floral design you wanted onto the workstation, along with black ink tubes, napkins, bottles of creams and other things.

However, you couldn’t focus…

You were highly nervous.

You stood nearby, clutching your purse whilst Miguel covered the tattoo chair with a few gray towels, before returning to organizing his workstation, and handling his tattoo gun. His thick, inked gingers deftly glided across the metal tools and inks when he finally looked up at you. You noticed his dark brown eyes roam your figure, meeting your eyes once more as he fiddled with the needles and tattoo gun.

“Which side?” He asked suddenly, placing the gun down on the workstation. You were baffled, confused about what he meant. “W-what?” You stammered, watching him take a seat on a black rolling stool. “You want your tattoo on your bottom, correct?” He asked, causing you to nod at his question. “Then which side?” He inquired once more.

You gulped, biting your lip. You pondered, remembering the artwork of the black rose from the album book and how beautiful it was, briefly deciding with yourself on which side. “O-On the left.” You replied after considering.

He hummed, nodding whilst placing a pair of black latex gloves onto his table.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to undress from the waist down and lay on your stomach.” He directed, pressing a button under the chair with his foot, causing the backing to lean back.

Your heart quickened and your stomach clenched. This was what you were worried about…

The undressing part.

It wasn’t that you had an unattractive body or weren’t familiar with the acts of intimacy, it was the thought of him, a handsome stranger having his stern gaze on your sensitive area.

How he’ll have to be studying your flesh, taking in every curve and dot whilst he worked in etching the beautiful tattoo onto your rear that made you a little reluctant.

You hesitated, clutching your purse once more. Your nervousness started to become palpable as you noticed Miguel looking up at you. He took in your tentativeness, his stern face softening at the sight. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw as his lip piercings caught in the ceiling light.

“Are you sure about this?” His deep and rough voice filled the quiet room, his movements coming to a halt. You chewed your inner cheek, pondering his question. “Yes…I’m sure.” You replied, causing him to click his tongue. “Then what are all these nerves coming from?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement seems to make his pecs more defined against the black fabric.

“I’ve seen you aren’t new to tattoos.” He said, his amber orbs probably taking in the small, tattooed quotes and patterns covering your body in minor spots before meeting your eyes once again. “So what’s the problem?”

You sighed, meeting his eyes.

Strangely, you felt like pouring your heart out to him.

Despite his coldness, you had a feeling whatever you told him would stay in this room…

“I’ve never got a huge piece done before.” You told him, which was partly the truth. Miguel hummed, his gaze on you intense. “That’s it?” You bit your lip anxiously once more, fiddling with the zipper of your purse. “N-No…I guess I’m nervous about…

Undressing.”

You uttered, biting your lip. However, Miguel seemed unfazed, only nodding in understanding.

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly which made your eyebrows furrow. “Y-Y/N.” You hesitantly replied, bringing a tight-lipped smile to Miguel’s lips. “As you can see. Y/N, for the tattoo you’ve chosen, it’s required that you undress from the waist down.” He said, his amber eyes searching the room before landing on a decoration that sat on a counter.

He stood up, picking up the small porcelain sculpture of a gray woman’s naked body. The piece looked rather small in his massive hands.

“You see here.” He turned the female around, pointing to the left side of the gray sculpture’s plump rear end. “This entire side will need to be revealed for me to work.” He explained, lowering his finger to point underneath the left cheek. “And the tattoo would end underneath the left buttock.” He said, setting the sculpture to the side, and turning his eyes back onto you.

“For other tattoos, I wouldn’t have asked for such things and simply allowed you to keep your undergarments on and work from there.” His tone was gravelly and rough as he spoke to you. “But I'd like to be cautious, so I ask you to remove everything.” He informed you, which made you feel better about the process, but still wary.

Miguel, looked you up and down, tapping his finger against his thick thigh, noticing that you were still hesitant. “How about this,” He began, his words instantly piquing your interest. “I can turn around and allow you to undress and get into a comfortable position on the chair.” He said. “I’ll even give you a towel to cover yourself with.” He proposed with a straight face. “How does that sound?” His demeanor and gravelly tone contrasted greatly with his kind and understanding words.

You thought it over for a while before nodding at his suggestion. He rose from his seat, retrieving a black towel from the closet, and placing it onto the tattoo chair that was already covered in gray towels. He then returned to his rolling stool and turned around to face the wall. “Let me know when you are done.” He said, his voice, husky and deep.

“O-Okay.” You told him, the uncertainty, evident in your voice. Your eyes took in his muscular backside that was straining against his black t-shirt. Every bulging muscle was visible through the fabric.

You bit your lip, feeling rather odd but proceeding on.

You closed the door of his tattoo room and set your purse down on the floor. You exhaled deeply, calming yourself down before looping your fingers into the waistband of your black shorts, slowly drawing them down, your eyes trained on him.

Miguel was completely solid and unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest and his back still facing you. He was so quiet, that you could almost forget he was there.

Well, almost…

When the black fabric of your shorts was nothing but a puddle around your ankles, you stepped out of them, tossing them to the side. You gulped, standing in just your white shirt, black tennis shoes, and panties. You heaved a quiet sigh, chewing your inner cheek.

This was the hard part…

You were about to undress completely…

You exhaled deeply, reluctantly slipping your thumbs into the elastic band of your black panties, pulling them down, and exposing your sex to the tattoo room. You hissed, feeling the cool air against your core. Hastily, you removed them from your being, tossing them to the side along with your shorts.

It felt so weird standing in a foreign place with your rear completely unveiled.

You wanted nothing more than to cover up…

Your eyes shifted over to Miguels’ broad backside, still in its same position.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped at his sudden question, his voice was thunderous compared to the total quietness that had once filled the room. “Y-y-yes.” You squeaked, swiftly moving to climb onto the tattoo chair, laying on your stomach, and placing the black towel over your bare rear to conceal yourself.

After Miguel’s abrupt question, he didn’t say anything else, and neither did you, despite being ready. It took a while for you to tell the sexy, and rather intimidating tattoo artist that you were all set. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest every time you thought you were prepared to do so.

You rested your chin upon the backs of your hands, laying flat on your stomach. You heaved a sigh, feeling rather ridiculous at how scared you were.

You chose to come here, just like you chose to get this tattoo.

‘No reason to back out now.’ You thought, wetting your lips before getting the artist’s attention. “I-I’m ready.” You muttered, causing an instant creak from Miguel’s stool to be heard.

“Good.” He uttered, the sound of the wheels from his seat gliding across the black marble flooring filling the room. You soon felt his presence to your right, seeing him in your peripherals, sitting tall and large on his stool next to you on the tattoo chair. His dark brown eyes continuously glanced over at you before roaming your body, his facial features unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was checking you out, or was merely looking at you to see if you hadn’t fainted on his chair.

“You seem…tense.” He commented in his usual dead tone. You looked over your shoulder at him to see his large hands attaching a black ink tube to his tattoo gun. His black tattoo arm sleeve was visible under the projecting light of the ceiling as his amber eyes were trained more on what he was doing rather than you.

“Y-yes. I’m still a little nervous.” You confessed, feeling your hands begin to tremble slightly. Miguel looked up at you, the light bouncing off his two lip piercings on his lower lip. “If I start and your body is not relaxed it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” He said bluntly, setting his tattoo gun onto his workstation. His words didn’t help, only causing your heart to quicken in pace and freak you out even more.

Because how could you possibly calm down?

It felt utterly impossible…

You weren’t nervous about the needle, or getting tattooed to begin with. You were experienced when it came to the inking process. What was working the nerves was the thought of his stern gaze and calloused hands feeling up your bare bottom. His gloved thumbs pressed into your rear, his amber eyes trained on every piece of you from the waist down which was making you nervous as hell.

Miguel eyed you, taking in your troubled expression as you lay upon his tattoo chair. Your bare bottom, covered in a black towel and your chin resting on your hands.

“Let me relax you.”

He abruptly said in almost a commanding voice rather than as a proposition. His suggestion made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that came to your mind at the thought of him ‘relaxing’ you.

"And h-how would you do that?" You asked, watching him rise from his stool, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you.

"I'm going to give you a massage."

He declared. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected proposal, your entire body suddenly heating up. "I've never heard of a tattoo parlor doing something like that." You admitted, feeling him adjust the chair's height to match his towering 7-foot frame, bringing the seat up to his waist.

"That's because you've never been to the Bloody Inks before," he said, a hint of amusement found in a usual cold voice. "There's a reason we're notorious in Nueva York, Y/N " he explained. "If we did what every other parlor did, we'd be just like any other tattoo shop…

Isn’t that right?”

He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your back. “I-I guess so.” You replied as without warning you began to feel his thick fingers on your shoulders, caressing small patterns into your blades. You gasped, the feeling instantly making you melt into the chair.

“You okay?” He asked, every touch of his thick fingers against your tensed muscles making you shudder. “Mhm.” The hum being pulled from your very being and coming out more forceful than you attended whilst Miguel continued his massage.

Miguel’s tattooed hands were large and strong, tracing the contours of your muscles and pressing gently into them. Suddenly, you winced slightly, the tension resisting his skilled touch. “Relax,” He uttered, his voice a low rumble that reverberated from the depth of his broad chest. You shakingly nodded, eyes fluttering closed at the wonderful sensations. “O-Okay. I’ll try.” You replied, trying to calm yourself.

You shakingly exhaled, feeling Miguel’s hands move down your back, his soothing caresses focusing on the crease that began the arch of your ass.

“Damn, there's a lot of tension here.” He commented, adding more pressure into his fingers and kneading the soft tissue in that area. You let out a contented sigh, his large hands enclosing around the sides of your waist. His thumbs pressed into your skin through the fabric of your white t-shirt, rubbing small patterns into your lower back. You groaned softly, the sensations he was bringing to you felt so good.

His touch, mysteriousness, voice, coldness, everything about him was so hot.

His fingers soothing places in your back that you didn’t even know existed, bringing you closer to tranquility.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing and running his palm along the center of your back, making you shiver. You exhaled deeply, your limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. “Mmm, good. It feels good.” You replied with closed eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” He said, his hands leaving your body.

“But I can’t help but notice you are still tense.”

Miguel said, making your eyebrows furrow as a sense of emptiness filled your being without his touch.

“W-what do you mean?” You inquired, entirely puzzled. You didn’t feel a single bit of tension in your backside. A feeling of pure relaxation filled your being, leaving you confused about what he meant by such things.

But it wasn’t like you were skilled as a masseuse yourself, so you could be mistaken.

“Yes, you are still tensed.” He uttered, running his fingers along the center of your backside, over the curve of your ass to rest a hand on your rear that was covered in the black towel.

“Here, it needs my attention.”

You were shocked and in disbelief, instantly becoming speechless; but despite your bewilderment, Miguel continued talking. “It’ll only make sense to massage where I'll be working. It’ll help loosen the muscles of your rear, making tattooing it less painful.” He explained, but it still didn’t stop the huge blush that spread across your face. You didn’t know how to respond, stuck between your own uncertainties and desires.

“T-this will be… beneficial?” You asked shakingly, trying to push past the naughty and erotic things that were filling your head. Miguel hummed. “Yes, I’ll be tattooing your left buttock, so it’ll help make the tattoo process smoother…

For you, I mean.”

You bit your lip. The butterflies, going rampant in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do or what to say, but then the realization that he was going to have to see and touch your bottom anyway when the actual inking process began led you to put your worries to the side and agree.

“No. I don’t mind.” You said, thankful that Miguel couldn’t see how red you were due to your face being away from him. Miguel hummed, his previous touch seeming to linger upon your skin.

“I’ll have to remove the towel. You okay with that?” He asked, which made your heart skip a beat. You shakingly exhaled, nodding. “Yes.”

You felt him lift the black towel from your bottom, the cool air rushing over your bare rear. You sucked in a breath as before, Miguel didn’t warn you, his warm hands groping your cheeks and instantly beginning to knead the fat of your ass.

This time, the sensations were different.

On your backside, the massage was more relaxing and tranquil, but on your rear, it felt more personal, more…

Intimate.

His touch made you feel pleasure beyond anything…

You bit your bottom lip harshly, trying to muffle the erotic cries that wished to escape whilst Miguel’s calloused hands worked wonders on your rear. His fingers pressed firmly into your left cheek, squeezing the fat before moving along the sides. It was a process that you pondered if it was professional or not, but it wasn’t like you cared.

His fingers knead into your soft flesh, like dough, making you see stars every single time. You were slowly becoming wet, your arousal spilling from your exposed sex to gradually coat your thighs and drench the gray towels underneath you.

The massage was good.

Dangerously too good…

A sudden moan broke free, filling the tattoo room when he roughly groped both of your cheeks in his large hands, spreading them apart. You instantly blushed horribly, embarrassed beyond anything.

“O-Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry.” You briskly replied, wanting nothing more than to hide. You didn’t know how the hell Miguel would react.

Would he cease his wonderful massage?

Tell you to leave?

Would things get hella awkward now?

You felt like a complete idiot, mentally facepalming yourself for giving into the pleasure of a total stranger.

But to your surprise, Miguel did something you weren’t expecting.

He chuckled.

For the first time since you met the menacing and large Latino artist, he showed an emotion that didn’t make you feel so freaking intimidated. The sound of the small, deep laughter that passed his lips was honestly breathtaking, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

“No need to apologize.” He replied, drawing your attention back to him and his wonderful massage. His touch on your rear became more soft and gentle like he was taking his time with you.

“It just shows I’m providing you what your body needs.” He replied, moving his hands onto your thighs, caressing them with his thumbs before running his hands up to fully cup your asscheeks into his hands. You moaned softly, your body instinctively arching up into his waiting palms. Miguel snickered, giving your ass another squeeze when everything stopped.

His movement on your rear ceased, his small laughs, movement, everything!

You lay there, waiting for anything to happen when you suddenly felt his pierced lips against your ear.

“Let’s drop the act, Cariño.”

He whispered, his breath warm on your face and his piercings, cold against your skin. Your heart dropped, and your body instantly became hot.

You tried to speak, to deny what he was saying, but your quivering lips wouldn’t form the words.

He snickered at your speechlessness and how flustered you were, the sound sending tingles throughout your entire being and going straight to your throbbing core.

“Let me relax you how we both desire, Y/N.”

He hummed, resuming his touch on your rear, but this time it was different. It was purposefully more erotic. He gave your bottom a sensual squeeze with one hand, his other moving up to stroke your hair.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

It felt surreal.

Something you'll fantasize about your sexy tattooist…

But Miguel’s fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp whilst continuing to tease and knead your right asscheek with his fingers made you think otherwise.

You were speechless yet again. You didn’t know how to respond, but your body was doing the speaking for you.

Your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the gray towels under you, spoke volumes on its own. You shakingly exhaled, trying to calm your excitement.

Miguel chuckled, his fingers continuing their tantalizing play on your rear, tempting and taunting you to give in to the sexy artist.

You bit your lip harshly, eyes fluttering as he, teasingly, brushed his thumb across your slick folds. You gasped at his attempt to entice you more.

“Mmm, you are soaking, Muneca.” He growled against your ear, his lip rings brushing your lobe and making you shudder. He sucked in a breath, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, coating his digits in your never-ending arousal. He groaned at your wetness, cupping your mound, to circle his two fingers around your sensitive bud. You moaned helplessly, trembling with pleasure.

“Muneca, you want this, just as much as I do.” He uttered, pressing his fingers more against your throbbing bud, eliciting a cry to escape your lips and making you wetter.

“Let me relax you.” He whispered, his deep voice filled with desire as he removed his hands to place them on your hips, caressing gentle circles against your sides.

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

He proposed once again. His words alone made your stomach clench in want. The gray towels underneath you completely soak with your arousal.

You couldn't stop yourself. The desire blinded you as your head slowly nods at his erotic proposition.

“P-Please.” You practically begged; voice tainted with desperation for more of him. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk against your ear.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He praised, nipping softly at your ear before pulling away. His touch left you cold and empty.

“On your knees. Ass up.”

He commanded, his coldness resurfacing right before your eyes. His sternness was even more attractive and made your core throb in anticipation.

You bit your lip, lust blinding your every action, thought, and word as you rose on the tattoo chair. As he instructed, you stood up on your knees and forearms with your ass thrust up into the air.

The cool air continuously brushed along your heated core, making your breathing hitch every time. The position gave him a full display of your wet folds and the gradual drip of your arousal down your thighs. The sight alone revealed your evident desire for him which made you excited, but also ashamed.

This sexy stranger was intimidating, scary, and someone you would, normally, never align yourself with.

So what was different about him that had you practically soaking his chair?

In your peripherals, you saw Miguel move. The mere motion snapped you out of your thoughts as his massive being disappeared from view. Instantly, you became anxious, oblivious to his next actions.

A sexy groan escaped his lips, feeling his amber eyes trained on your exposed sensitive area. “That's a pretty pussy you got that.” He purred, making you blush horribly. You buried your face into your inner elbow, embarrassed for liking the compliment from someone as sexy as him.

Miguel chuckled. “Does someone like my praises? You are a naughty one, Cariño.”

He snickered. Your face, reddening even more. His fingers continued their dance along the skin of your ass, your breathing becoming more shaky and your body burning hot.

His words and touch alone were enough to make you lose control. Beads of your essence running down your thighs.

“Cariño, I've only known you for about 30 minutes, yet, there is something about you that fascinates me. Something that I love so very fucking much….

Want to know what that is?”

He asked, his voice deep and husky, yet sending a shiver down your spine; his fingers ghosting along your skin. “Y-Yes.” You shakingly inquired, curious about his answer, but also anxious for him to cease his teasing and touch you.

He chuckled at your cluelessness, running his nails along your bare rear making you shiver.

“I love that despite your obvious hesitance and, dare I say, fear, you give into your wants, Muñeca

Your desires.”

He uttered, the pads of his fingers barely touching you, but forming goosebumps, everywhere along your skin.

“I-I don't understand.” You breathlessly and honestly replied, trying your hardest to look over your shoulder at the large male but failing every time.

“You don't understand, bebé?” He purred, his fingers leaving your bottom. “Then let me turn those gears in that sexy head of yours.” He whispered, his heavy footfalls slowly walking to stand in front of you. You gulped, glancing up to see him right before you, the growing bulge in his black jeans being the main attraction.

“You come into my shop for an ass tat, yet you were nervous as hell to get it.” He acknowledged. “But despite your nerves, here you are on my chair with that sexy ass all ready for me." He said with a smirk. His hand moved to run through your hair, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers once more.

Your eyes fluttered, sinking more into the soft leather, your rear rising. “And even now, I intimidate you, don't I, Cariño?” He asked, his male cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke filling your nose, increasing your desire for him.

Regardless of your lust, Miguel did intimidate you. His massive body, bulging muscles, stern-drawn face, tattoos, lip rings, and cold aura made you nervous around him.

That you couldn't lie about...

“Y-yes. You do.” You confessed, eliciting a deep hum from Miguel. “Yet, you are giving yourself to me.” He whispered, moving his hand from your hair to take your chin into his calloused fingers. He turned you to look up at him, your eyes darting to take in his chiseled cheeks, massive neck tattoo, enticing rings on his plush lips, smoldering amber eyes, and dark brown hair that loomed over his eyes.

He smirked, his canines peeking out from his lips. “You are delivering yourself to me on a silver platter, Y/N.” He rasped, caressing your chin and holding your stunned gaze before pulling away. You were left breathless, gasping for air, you didn't know you were holding.

You tried to track him, his huge, menacing form returning behind you and out of your sight. “So love, despite your worries, reluctance, and inner thoughts telling you to stop and turn back.

If you desire something, you go through with it...”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You wondered if Miguel's observation of you was correct.

Were you the type to follow your desires, even though everything in you was telling you otherwise?

You pondered, if the sexy stranger was right, despite only knowing you for a short time.

But that thought soon became nothing but mush in your brain when his sudden grip on your asscheeks made your entire mind go blank. As if dipped in warmth, your body instantly melted like chocolate under his fingertips, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Miguel hummed, his breath brushing along your heated core, only making you wetter.

“And I love a woman that knows what she wants,” He uttered, pressing a kiss to your left ass cheek, making you gasp,

“What she needs…” He whispered, pressing another kiss to your other eliciting another soft moan from you.

“I can tell you are going to be tasty…”

He rasped before finally giving you what you desired and swiping his tongue along your folds.

You cried out, slumping against the tattoo chair whilst Miguel licked at your rear. He groaned, squeezing your ass and pressing his face more into your bottom, licking, sucking and completely devouring you.

You moaned uncontrollably, gripping the leather seat tightly. “O-Oh gosh.” You whimpered as Miguel continued his pleasurable assault, running his skillful hands up and down your spine, brushing your shirt up to feel more of your skin. You were becoming hot and increasingly wet, your love juices spilling from your entrance to be swallowed by Miguel’s eager mouth.

With every suction of his lips and the swipe of his tongue, it made your mind complete mush, time and space becoming non-existent. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He groaned, sloppily ravaging your core, and fucking you with his tongue.

The tattoo room was filled with your whines and whimpers, Miguel’s low groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy. Your entire body was clenching and squirming the closer you got to that sweet end.

Like his hands, Miguel’s mouth worked wonders on you. His tongue moved rapidly across your pussy, seeming to be everywhere at once. Swirling your throbbing bud, thrusting into your entrance, and lapping your delicate pussy lips. a

When it came too much to bear, Miguel held you close, preventing you from moving away from him. It only made you tremble, the pleasure consuming your entire being.

“M-Miguel, I-I’m close.” You cried out, pressing your face into the tattoo chair. He hummed, the vibrations rumbling through you and making your stomach tighten even more. “You want to cum, pretty girl?” He chuckled, moving from your desired spot to kiss along the skin of your bottom. His hooped, lip rings brushed along the skin of your ass and made you even more wetter.

You moaned softly, frantically nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, Miguel.” You whined, wanting him to bring you to your release. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek before returning his skilled mouth to your puffy pussy lips once more.

You gasped loudly, his tongue darting erratically along your dripping folds. The feeling was more extreme than ever before as he continued, tugging and lapping at your sweet pussy.

You were so wet, your thighs dripping with your arousal like a relentless rain, its non-stop downpour completely soaking your legs and the gray towels underneath you. You gritted your teeth, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear, begging for a release.

Everything felt so good, you wanted to hold on, to feel more of Miguel’s tongue and hands that roamed your body, caressing you in ways that increased the pleasure by 10-fold;

But you just couldn’t…

With a loud cry, you climaxed hard onto his waiting mouth. Your vision saw white, eyes rolling as your sticky juices covered his pierced lips and ran down your legs. Miguel groaned in pleasure, gripping your cheeks harshly, widening you and licking you clean, whispering, 'So good. Such a good girl for me,’ over and over again.

It was like music to your ears.

Your eyes fluttered as he finished; tugging away from your pussy lips with a wet plop. You were dazed, falling flat against the tattoo chair, and trying to calm your breathing and come down from your epic high.

Faintly, you could hear Miguel’s boots against the black marble flooring, moving around to stand beside you, coming into view once more.

With glazed eyes, you looked over at him, breathing heavily. His chin and pierced lips were completely covered in your arousal. Like a king who had just feasted on a buffet fit for royalty, he used his fingers to wipe it off in satisfaction. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He praised again with a smirk. Your entire body and face flushed at his erotic compliment. You were speechless, not at all knowing how to respond.

For a moment you just stared up at him, still trying to figure out if what just happened, happened.

His amber eyes roamed over your form once more, lingering on your bare rear longer than anything else. He growled, stepping closer once more. “But don’t think we’re done here, Muñeca.”

“I want more.

Just one more taste”

He uttered, the words surprising you, but not as surprising as what he did next…

Everything was a blur, his large being moved so quickly it was hard to follow, especially in your dazed state.

You soon found him underneath you on the tattoo chair, his massive body laying under you and your puffy pussy lips right over his waiting mouth. His large hands roughly groping your rear, and holding you tightly in place.

Certainly, you wouldn't be able to get out of his hold, even if you tried.

You gulped, staring down at him between your thighs in shock. Your mind, not keeping up fast enough. “M-Miguel, w-what-”

“Let me relax you, chica.”

He cut you off, gripping your ass in his large, inked hands and pushing you down onto his mouth once more. You cried out, his mouth even more intense than ever.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as his tongue circled your clit, teasingly applying more pressure and making you whine. Your fingers, instinctively, found his dark brown hair, gripping and tugging at the chocolate strands and making Miguel groan.

He caressed your bottom with his large, calloused hands, sucking at your sensitive bud with his hot, wet mouth, expertly flicking it. You moaned helplessly. “M-Miguel, g-gosh. It feels so good.” You cried out, instinctively, grinding your hips against his mouth, chasing another steady rising climax. Miguel's eyes fluttered close, savoring your taste on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your sticky folds.

Your breathing quickened, his piercings grazing against your sensitive skin with every lap of his tongue against your entrance. You were slowly losing it, feeling him gradually ease his tongue inside of you before thrusting you repeatedly with the wet muscle.

You moaned loudly, rutting your hips and continuously brushing his nose into your clit, his tongue continuing its torment. A strangled moan erupted from your throat, the pleasure becoming too much. You shook uncontrollably, gripping his hair tightly and squirming on his mouth.

“A-Ahh, Miguel, I-I can’t-” You tried moving off, but Miguel firmly held you down on his mouth, his tongue, darting in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his warm, wet muscle.

The familiar feeling of scorching heat began to rise in your stomach. You gritted your teeth, his metal ringed, lip piercings brushing against your pussy lips with each suckle. He reached around, parting your lips and sticking his tongue deeply into your opening, messily lapping and sucking you.

Your love juices soaked his lips and chin to be sloppily devoured by Miguel. The room was filled with the erotic sounds of your pussy’s squelches. Silent moans passed your lips, as your head limply fell back to be caught by Miguel’s large hand.

He took your chin in his tattooed finger, pulling you back down towards him. He moved his mouth from your heated core as his intense dark eyes met yours. “I want your eyes on me.” He said, his breathing rather stable, despite almost drowning in your pussy for what felt like an hour. His tattooed hand caressed your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want to see you cum, Muñeca .” He whispered, pressing kisses along your inner thighs and nipping softly. You bit your lip, a soft moan passing your lips at his pecks. You weakly nodded, almost completely dazed.

He smirked, pressing a long searing kiss to your thigh. “Hmm, good girl.” He uttered parting your pussy lips with two thick fingers and attacking your swollen clit once more. It took everything in you to keep his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at you whilst his tongue and lips moved in a frenzy along your pussy.

Your body trembled horribly, fingers gripping his hair tightly to stabilize yourself.

“M-Miguel.” You whined his name over and over again. The desire to tell him of your reached peak was on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure was too overwhelming; leaving you unable to say such a thing as your release unexpectedly slammed into you.

With a loud strangled moan, you orgasmed for the second time.

Your body shook uncontrollably as your thighs squeezed around Miguel tightly. Your juices gushed out onto his eager mouth whilst a sensation of pure bliss sprouted throughout your being.

Your eyes rolled as silent and breathy moans busted from the depth of your chest. Miguel didn’t cease his torment, continuing to suckle on your puffy pussy lips, swallowing all of your sweet nectar. His lips and chin were completely drenched in a mixture of saliva and your love juices, but it didn’t seem as if the massive tattooist cared.

Until he was satisfied, Miguel continued to slurp messily at you. You were highly sensitive, squirming on his mouth and whimpering uncontrollably as he held you down with a firm grip on your thighs. When his thirst was satiated, you were relieved to hear a deep hum of delight escape his glistening lips and soon feel him effortlessly lift you from his mouth to rest your bare bottom on his clothed chest.

You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. When you finally came down from your high, you glanced up to see his dark eyes peering back at you. His gaze was intense and stern as always, but your attention instantly went down to his mouth and the mess you’ve made upon it.

His tanned lips and piercings glistened with your arousal. Your essence dripping down to coat the entirety of his chin. Your entire face burned up at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, I’m s-so sorry.” You hastily apologized, still a little jittery from your explosive orgasm. You reached over to grab the black towel that was left discarded on his stool to try to clean him up.

“Don’t.”

He simply stated, capturing your wrist in his large hand to halt your movement. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching him take the towel from you and toss it to the side.

You were confused, your eyes taking in his mouth and chin that was still covered in your juices. His pierced lips pulled into a smirk, his hands moving to caress your bare ass.

“I want to taste all of it, Muñeca. I'm not letting none of you go to waste…”

For the next hour or so, the room was filled with the buzzing of a tattoo gun and Miguel’s deep voice occasionally trying to soothe you.

“Beautiful Muñeca. You are doing well.”

“I promise you, this rose will look good on you when I’m done.”

“Just a little longer, I’m almost finished.”

He whispered, his gloved fingers pressing into your flesh as he applied the last finishing strokes of black ink onto the rose on your rear. You bit your lip harshly, gripping the leather cushion when finally, the buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased. The needle, no longer, harshly pricking of your sensitive skin.

“I’m finished, Muñeca.” He said, placing the gun to the side and soothingly, caressing your waist. You exhaled a sigh of relief, your eyes a little teary.

“You did well, Cariño.” He praised once more, proceeding to clean the tattoo, applying an antiseptic ointment and covering it, all whilst speaking to you.

“Although, you’ve surprised me.” He said with a chuckle. “I thought you’d become a crying little mess on my chair.” He teased, making the two of you laugh. “I won’t lie, I thought so too.” You confessed, feeling him finish up putting a protective sterile bandage over your freshly inked tattoo.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen on my watch.” He said with a smirk, motioning to you with a finger for you to stand up. “Carefully.” He sternly said, giving you a pointed look. His voice had its usual coldness but also held a hint of affection in his tone.

That maybe the sexy tattooist might actually care about you.

You gave him a small smile, watching him begin to pack up his tattoo items and place them back into his closet. You followed Miguel’s words, cautiously rising up and off of the chair. You winced softly, your left cheek a little sore.

You walked over to the body mirror in Miguel’s tattoo room, turning around to admire the fresh inking on your rear through its sterile bandage.

It was beautiful…

Just like you thought.

The black rose was wonderfully sketched and etched onto your rear end. Its petals, pistils, and leaves, were all defined perfectly and coated the entirety of your left cheek.

You couldn’t stop looking at it, finding something else about it that you loved.

Large hands settled on your waist, snapping your attention from your tattooed bottom to up at the hot male through the mirror. He smirked, meeting your gaze through the glass. “It’s sexy, isn’t it?” He asked, caressing your sides as you smiled, nodding.

“You did really well, Miguel.” You complimented, both of your eyes, taking in the intricate linings of the rose on your rear. “I’m happy you like it.” He said, cupping your chin in his fingers to turn you to look up at him.

“But make sure you properly treat it every day. I’ll send you a list of aftercare instructions.” He said, his amber eyes taking in your face whilst he spoke. You bit your lip, nodding. “I will.” You replied. He smirked, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes once more.

“Good, now kiss me.” He said in his cold tone, but his amber eyes held a look of fondness in them. You smiled, cupping his face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips against his.

You moaned softly upon the impact, his metal lip rings, smooth and cold, only making the kiss even hotter. You passionately kissed his lips, savoring the feeling of his lip rings and the taste of his plush lips against your own.

When the two of you pulled away, breathing heavily from the heated exchange, he smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “I hate to tell you this, but I have a client in the next 10 minutes.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll see you next time, Muñeca, for your check-up.” He smirked, handing you a business card with his contacts and the address of the Bloody Inks on it.

You smiled, taking the card from him, your hands touching during the small interaction that sent a spark straight through your being.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Miguel felt it too…

There was an unmistakable pull that was drawing you towards him. You didn’t want to leave him, despite only meeting him that day.

The desire to snuggle up in his muscular arms, to feel his touch on you once more was overwhelming, but he was right.

It was time for you to depart…

So after carefully getting dressed back into your panties and black shorts, you pressed one final kiss upon the sexy tattooist’s pierced lips. The kiss oddly felt unending, but not long enough when you finally pulled away from each other, leaving you, even more, hungrier for him than before.

You exited out of his room, walking through the tattoo space of the shared artists of Gwen and Hobie who thanked you for coming, to then leave the tattoo parlor altogether.

You walked down the sidewalk, feeling like a completely different person. You twirled the business card that Miguel gave you in between your fingers. A feeling of bursting adoration for the beautiful inking that adorned your left cheek, knowing it was created by the sexy tattooist.

To you, the stunning piece of art wasn’t just a tattoo.

No…

It was the marking of a memory of a day when a serious, cold, sexy, and dedicated artist came into your life, revealing a different side of yourself- a daring, more confident side that would forever be engraved in your mind.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel excited to see the sexy tattooist again, anxious for all the fun you and Miguel would get up to on your next visit to the Bloody Inks…

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'The Black Rose.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog!! Love you guys!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x reader smut

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soadiablo · 1 year ago

Note

How would the spidermen react to the (male) reader being all of their boyfriend in each world?

For some he’s a villain, for some he’s a fellow hero, for some he’s a civilian.

Which spider person has which reader and what happens when they find out that they all have a reader?

atsv men w/ the same boyfriend from another universe

characters: miguel o'hara, peter b. parker, and hobie brown.

cw: none

notes: okay so i accidentally wrote a whole fic so what

i'm ASSUMING that you mean across the spider-verse spidermen so that's what i'm doing, if you were thinking something else please let me know.

not proof read

So let's put this into a scenario, you're your own Spider-Man in your own universe. But you have your own love interest. And say one day you're kicking bad guy butt right? Even though it's odd cause the bad guy doesn't look like they're from your universe. Then all of a sudden, this portal opens and another Spider-Man comes through it and also starts beating your bad guy.

Yeah so long story short, it was Miguel and you two do a little banter thing, and you convince him to let you join his Spider Society. Which leads you to the point where you meet Peter and Hobie. And oh boy are they getting some memories.

MIGUEL would probably already have been aware of the fact that you existed in multiple universes. Miguel would probably have a boyfriend who is also a fellow hero, but maybe not exactly Spider-Man. Maybe just someone who helped him on missions and whatnot. So I don't think his reaction would be too strong. He's aware that you look a little like his own version of you, and act like him. But he knows you aren't his version. Although I do believe that would lead to some pretty fun bantering and questions.

Who knows, maybe he might introduce you to... well you one day. Maybe some fun hero shenanigans might ensue.

PETER would probably be a bit stunned. I mean come on, you saw how he was with MJ in the first movie. Maybe you are a spitting image of yourself. Peter would most likely have a civilian boyfriend. Someone who takes care of him after a fight, watching Mayday (i love Mayday fyi), and just being there for when he comes home. That being said, see you as Spider-Man makes him feel... ways he's never felt before. In a good way. He thinks it's cool that he has a boyfriend who is also Spider-Man! He would most likely ask a bunch of questions. Like if you had any cool powers, how does your own suit work, were you also bitten by a radioactive spider?

Peter would also probably try to test your strength, and also get you to meet his own version of you. He just thinks it's cool.

HOBIE would just be amused at the fact that another you exists. Most likely it was a gut feeling, but seeing you with his own two eyes just confirms it. Or maybe he just didn't believe in you, he doesn't believe in consistency. I feel like if you do manage to strike a conversation with him he would probably tell you all about his version of you. One of the first things he'll say is about how you're a villain in his universe. Yep, personally I believe that Hobie would have a boyfriend who's a villain in his universe. What villain you represent is completely up to you. Although it is interesting to know another version of his boyfriend is a hero instead of the opposite.

Would he introduce you to his version of you? Probably not.

#⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ matthew writes #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x male reader #peter b parker x reader #spiderman x male reader #atsv x male reader #atsv x reader

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oddinary4bts · 2 years ago

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader, Taehyung x OC (reader in What Was Hidden), Yoongi x OC (barely present in this fic), Jin x OC, Hobi x OC, Jisung x Felix (Stray Kids)

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆total word count: 146k

☆a/n: in love with this story. That's it, that's the note. I hope you'll love it just as much as I do <3

☆Special mention to @moonleeai for her work as my beta reader for all chapters of this fic

☆Inspired from What Was Hidden, a @daechwitatamic fic. You might want to read WWH before you read The Forgotten Spaces, as WWH takes place before The Forgotten Spaces

☆Read the sequel, When the End Comes, here!

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser

➳Chapter one: when you meet again after a year (8.5k)

You didn't miss me?

➳Chapter two: when you ask your rival for help (7.7k)

You are as annoying as I remember you to be, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter three: when you learn why Jungkook disappeared (10.2k)

And the worst part is, it hurts. All. The. Fucking. Time.

➳Chapter four: when you finally let go of old animosity (9.6k)

I'm just relieved you haven't changed.

➳Chapter five: when a weekend away changes everything (15.7k)

You've been confusing me all weekend.

➳Chapter six: when you realize you are too late (5.8k)

See, that's exactly why I do not want to talk to you.

➳Chapter seven: when you live with the aftermath of heartbreak (8.7k)

One day it won't hurt anymore, right?

➳Drabble #1

➳Drabble #2

➳Chapter eight: when he realizes what he lost (12.6k)

I care about you.

➳Drabble #3

➳Chapter nine: when the healing starts (7k)

You're a fucking idiot, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter ten: when you start falling, slowly (14.7k)

We start here, right now, and we see where we can go.

➳Chapter eleven: when he shows that he cares (12.5k)

I think we're both still hurt by everything that happened

➳Chapter twelve: when he catches you (8.1k)

I thought then that you weren't supposed to be happy with me

➳Chapter thirteen: when a party brings you even closer (8.9k)

Make sure all I can remember is your name.

➳Chapter fourteen: when you finally make it official (13.1k)

I love you.

☆☆☆☆☆

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axeoverblade · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do headcanons about Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie having a tall and scary/intimidating s/o who is actually a big sweetheart? How they meet, first impressions, and dating stuff?? If that’s too much, no prob, alter it however you need to! :)

B. F. G

ATSV! squad x gn! reader

Synopsis! Never judge a book by its cover

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none!

Word count: unavailable

Authors comment: BONUS:GWEN, super cute lol hope this is what you wanted enjoy <3

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

1610 MILES

Bro is scared of nothing (think Simba from look king “I laugh in the face of danger”)

So when he sees you out on patrol, it throws him off that he became so on guard

You’re making the hairs on the back of his neck stand

Would never tell you this but at first you were gonna be a bad guy

So when you helped a lil kid cross the street and paid for them to get ice cream, he was a wee bit confused

Tailed you for a long time on different days, and always saw you doing good things .

So at first he develops a lil identity crush, not a romantic crush on you

Like he thinks it’s cool that you have this presence about you and it’s completely different from how you actually are

He meets you as spider man before as himself

You actually helped him, not a lot but enough where you interacted with him for a bit and he thanked you for helping

You just stopped a guy from stealing an older woman’s purse by tripping the thief and returning the purse

Miles saw it as you could be the next spider man

Suddenly you keep seeing spiderman all the time (totally by accident and not because he learned your routine)

Talk to him so often you develop nicknames for each other.

Been months since you’ve known him and he like is obsessed with you, full on in love and everything

So he decides to reveal who he is

Obv you accept him, give him a hug saying you won’t tell anyone

So now you guys hang out as friends

Casually flirts with you all the time (he’s trying so hard to make u like him even though u alr do)

Makes u meet his parents

miles forgot your looks don’t match your personality

HIS PARENTS ARE SO ON GUARD

His dad gave you that look

The one that screams “ stay away from my child and take your thuggish activities out this house” when you first walked in

kinda made you sad cause you thought they didn’t like you and you haven’t even talked to him yet

After they get to know you through the night his parents legit love you

Say how much of a good influence you must be on Miles and tell Miles to be more like you

Tell you to come by anytime

(They could easily tell miles likes you and vise versa but don’t say anything)

So Miles finally works up the balls to confess

Happy moments and a kiss

Overall good day

When your walking hand in hand down the sidewalk and keep getting weird stares because of the high contrast in your auras it confuses people

but then you and Miles both smile and its the same super big bright smile, people get why you’re together

HOBIE BROWN

When he first saw you, standing as tall as him in the store with that “I’ll kill you if you come near me” energy he thought you would be an issue honestly

Thought you were cool but def though you were gonna try and fight anyone near you or something

He wasn’t in his suit cause he was washing it and was lowkey upset you caught him when he was just going to the store to restock his snacks instead of out on duty

But he was excited for what ever you were gonna do when you passed him because he wanted to fight today

“Accidentally” bumps into you to see how you respond

But when you smile at him sweetly, apologize, and keep it moving, bro is confused

Walks right back up to you and starts talking to you

Digs the inconsistency between your personality and your looks

Also digs just your looks

He thinks you're super attractive

Was quick to get with you, he knew he wanted you after that first convo at the store

You guys click so well aesthetically cause even though your brooding walking around and he looks all chill (and mischievous) like nothing can bother him, the way you two are holding hands with your thumb rubbing the back of each others palms is a dead give away you two are on the same page

Sometimes he sees you and is just like “you don’t match”

He never explains what he means by it but says it’s a good thing

Wasn’t scared at all to tell you he was spiderman

You two def go on swinging dates where he just takes you everywhere

Overall fun and happy times

PAVITR PRABHAKAR

He was a little nervous when he first saw you

Not because of your energy but because he thought you didn’t like him

Like you looked like if anyone approached you, you would rip their head off

So maybe he was a wee bit scared of how you looked

But he knew better than to judge appearances. Bro is so intuitive that he doesn’t need a meesily appearance to tell him who you are on the inside

So he walks up to you and says hi

The big smile that graces your face makes him smile big too

Happy he followed his intuition to just approach you

At first you two are just good friends

Anytime you two are in public you get weird looks

Like what’s this jolly looking fellow doing with you

Then you laugh at his antics all happily and they get it

You actually confessed first

As “intuitive” as he was he didn’t notice your feelings

Doesn’t take him by surprise though

Oh my gosh he is so happy and pda-ing in public and everyone is like are you sure you two are supposed to be together

But then your face lights up with this look of joy every time you look at him and people have no choice but to mind their business

It’s a good thing opposites attract, even though personality wise you two are very similar

Really happy he approached you despite his fear otherwise he would’ve never met the love of his life

BONUS! GWEN STACY

Gwen thought you were cool at first

Your height is what would’ve intimidated her not your aura

Like she isn’t scared or anything, just a little bit more on guard around you

she first met you at one of the band get together cause you were one of the band members friends

She didn’t want to judge on appearance though so she tries her best to keep her opinion about you to a minimum until she actually talked to you

Happy she did

saw you get up and get waters for everyone because “we should stay hydrated”

Thought it was cute how sweet you were

She approaches you and you two become friends quick

You two meet up regularly outside of band meets

Wouldn’t tell you that she found you super attractive (and vise versa)

Like not even looks, just you as a whole

Gives her scary dog privileges honestly

Likes yes she can one hundred percent defend herself and is more than capable

But no one even looks her way anymore when your with her

Made her happy to be left alone in the streets now

So you actually have to confess first

Sweetest confession ever got her flowers

She ofc says yes cause she had a crush on you too

You bake together all the time, even if one of you are good or bad; or both are good or bad at baking, you two are having fun

Meeting her dad was a given

At first he could’ve sworn you were a murderer

wasn’t feeling you at all

Then he had a convo with you and was like “oh okay I get it”

He loves how sweet you are and hopes you rub off on his daughter cause “she isn’t nice enough to him”

Happy relationship :)

©axeoverblade

533 notes · View notes

yuzukult · 5 months ago

Text

from home 03 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: .......... LMFAOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOLKS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL... anyways hopefully i copied the right chapter hahahhahahah

“You going to the staff dinner tonight?”

Raising a finger at Hoseok, Jungkook slips his phone from his pocket, skimming through the pages before landing on an app, typing a few things in before he looks up with a saddened expression on his face. “... I guess not.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Why can’t you go?” He turns his phone to show the both of you.

JEON JUNGKOOKACCOUNT BALANCE: ₩33,258.75

“Jungkook!” You and Hoseok in unison exclaim in disbelief. “How the fuck do you only have $30 in there?” Jungkook shrugs, slumping his shoulders as he leans against the conveyor belt. “My mom hasn’t given me the modeling money yet. Our accountant is still calculating all of my earnings. You’d think with how much my parents pay him that he’d work a little faster...”

“We just got paid two days ago,” Hoseok points out, completely baffled as to how Jungkook was able to go through that money so quickly. “What did you do?”

Standing in the middle of Jungkook’s apartment, you and Hoseok just heave out a heavy sigh, shaking your heads in disappointment. He has new curtains, one that makes it easier for the sun to shine through in the mornings which has been an incredibly huge mood booster for him. His futons now have pillows and a blanket to claim their own. Then there was the fridge— full of almost every type of frozen meal from the aisles of the grocery store. And the pantry was an entirely different story; stacks of ramen, chips, cookies— they were practically spilling.

“Jungkook, you need to learn how to control your spending.” You say with great dismay, skimming through the labels of all the ramen bowls and packets that pile on top of each other. “If you keep going at this rate, you’re going to be so broke that you’ll be living on our couches on rotation.”

His face brightens. “You’d let me live on your couch if I needed to?”

Ignoring his question blatantly, you start browsing his apartment with Hoseok. His suitcases and boxes remain full of things that he brought back from the estate which has you going through them in pure amusement. “You guys... wanna help me unpack or something?”

“Unpack or something. Either or.” You pull out a velvet royal blue suit from one of the boxes that’s still in its clear plastic jacket for the outer protective layer. “Jungkook, want to give me a reason why you have this?”

“Oh. That’s this year’s Hugo Boss. Haven’t worn it yet, I needed to get it fitted.”

Your nostrils flare at the words. “... OK, so why do you still have it? You’re a lower middle class guy living in a studio apartment that’s still probably being paid by his parents who have a butt load of money so they honestly don’t even know they’re still putting money into this. Why they hell would you have a suit that’s...” flipping the label around, your jaw nearly pops off when it drops to the floor, “₩665,175,000.00? Jungkook, what the flying fuck—”

“What?” Hoseok drops the bag of chips he’s in the midst of opening from his hands. Despite also coming from money, he was never that rich in comparison to Jungkook. “Yeah, Hobi, you heard that right. $600,000.00 buckaroos. That’s the cost of a house right there.”

“The Jeon estate is actually—“ You place your index finger against Jungkook’s lips to hush him. “Don’t even. You need to sell this suit.”

“Sell—“ Breathless, Jungkook looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t sell a limited edition suit. It was hard to even get it in the first place! What makes you think I’m going to sell it?”

“Because you have 30 bucks to your name.” You respond bluntly before picking up another suit that he has lying underneath the first. “Or sell this one.”

“Not the 2021 Vintage Gucci Men’s Suit!”

“How— One, how can something be vintage if it’s in 2021? And it’s not even 2021 yet?”

The sun begins to set; the rays peering through the curtains gradually dissipates, leaving the three of you sprawled across Jungkook’s new apartment with clothes splattered on every possible surface in the poorly lit room. He still lacked another lamp, but the one his mother left was going to have to do. The staff dinner plans are cancelled, mostly because reorganizing Jungkook’s belongings has been an unanticipatedly gratifying yet a fraught chore that took up more time than predicted. Jungkook was hoping to attend the dinner, but after seeing how much effort you and Hoseok put in trying to make his living space a bit more comfortable, the hope for going to the event has been pushed to the back of his mind.

“Do you guys want to order take-out?” Jungkook suggests, and both you and Hoseok nod while sharing each halves of the futon. “But we’ll pay since you barely have any money. You can get us next time.”

Next time, which means that you guys want to hang out with Jungkook again.

To him, this is a huge step in the friendship direction. Throughout the entirety of his life, having friends had never really been a thing. Sure, he had play-dates per request from his mother, but those kids were fans of the stuff he owned, they didn’t even like him for him. It had become a recurrence up until high school, where the replacement for the need for friendship had been occupied with flings with women instead. People hung around him for the image, but he never felt a connection with anyone.

That was, until he met you and Hoseok.

Although he’d known Hoseok from showing up at the same parties, he never actually got to talk to him on this level until he visited the supermarket that fateful day. He was always the fun guy at parties; attention constantly gravitating toward him, whether he liked it or not, and he came from money as well, so Jungkook wasn’t sure if those people were surrounding him because of it. Sure, Hoseok’s parents weren’t as rich as Jungkook’s, but they were pretty high up there and could afford almost anything they desired.

Yet, he preferred this sight of Hoseok. Baggy hoodie and jeans, skin greasy from spending the day at work then coming to Jungkook’s apartment to unpack. He’s nagging at you for taking up too much space, covering the surface area that Hoseok had claimed to be his under an unspoken contract as you frown when he slaps your leg.

He likes this. There’s no gowns and tuxes in a ballroom with hors d'oeuvres worth the price of a car per bite; there’s no young people at a party, getting wasted and high, fucking in bedrooms that they weren’t sure who it belonged to; there wasn’t a dining room full of both family and strangers that attempted to start small talk about things he didn’t care about— there was none of that. Just comfort from people he genuinely wanted to impress and make proud of him. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt this way before and he’s barely even known either of you that long. Jungkook has been spending most of his life trying to fill a void in him and has been unsuccessful. He’s finally feeling like he’s going somewhere.

You and Hoseok finally agree on what to eat and he learns that it’s your favorite. Pizza. Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, spinach with an ungodly amount of jalapeño peppers, Hoseok mentioned earlier that night that your tolerance for spicy foods is stronger than the pits of hell.

“Jesus, how are you eating this?” Jungkook cries, snot dripping from his nose while Hoseok wipes his tears after taking another bite. You sit there, unfazed, picking up the abandoned slices of peppers that sit in the box, dropping them into your mouth. “It’s honestly not that spicy. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Bitch, we are not being dramatic, your stomach is made out of whatever Captain America’s shield is made from...”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in the midst of your argument with Hoseok and just from the name on his lock screen, his heart drops. Jeon Junghwan.

There were a couple things in life that Jungkook wanted to attain— the acceptance from Junghwan and his parents being on top of that list. Ever since Jungkook was younger, Junghwan had been the golden child, the rest of the four were just barely making it, arduously following in his footsteps. But he failed, he hasn’t been able to win the approval from him.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Mother is having a charity banquet on Saturday. She would have called you but figured it’d be best if I contacted you instead. Something about ‘inspiration’. Please be at the estate at 7:00PM sharp.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Goodnight, Junghwan.

“Why does he text like an old man?” Jungkook flinches, head turning sideways to meet with Hoseok hovering over his shoulder. “Junghwan, I mean. But cool, I was supposed to go to that banquet too, until I got called on a shift. Luckily you’re not scheduled.”

“Yeah...” He says quietly, seated on the floor as he leans back against the sides of the futon. “This is the first time I’m seeing my family after moving out. I need to plan this out right.”

“Well, what’s the plan?” Cheeks full of fries, you’re munching away on the other side of Jungkook as he contemplates the next steps he’s going to have to make in order to reach his goal. “One thing is for sure. You’re going to be my date.”

The breath has been stolen away from his lungs and his heart feels like you’ve pierced through his chest cavity and squashed it into the palm of your hands. He doesn’t know what it’s called (maybe a blowout) but the way your hair cascades down to your shoulders is marveling. In a black long dress with a slit that exposes the entirety of your legs, his breath hitches when his eyes meet the skin of your thighs, the spaghetti straps drape over your décolletage with the v-cut neckline only finishing it off right. He thinks this is his fatal moment. He’s never seen you dolled up like this before; cheeks brushed with a peach blush, lashes emphasized with mascara, liner that makes you look even more fierce, and lips... so buttery pink and plump that almost wishes he could—

“Jungkook?” He shivers, immediately pushing the thoughts out of his head. You’d probably stab him in mere seconds if you knew what he was thinking about. “H-Hey. You look good.”

You grin, adjusting the fabric that hangs around your legs. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. Anyways, let’s get going. You said your brother sent a car for us?”

Even though Jungkook is a model and has posed in magazines in suits, it’s still a surprise to see how stunning he manages to look in person. He keeps his hair casual today, despite the formal attire, but when his fingertips rake through those luscious locks, it makes sense why he went with that decision. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t believe that this hunk was living off of frozen meals and instant ramen for the past week.

He’s pretty, yet there’s something that you can’t help but loathe about him.

Jungkook is still from money, despite the amount of times you’ve seen him in the supermarket’s uniform and apron. It’s something you’ve been trying to force yourself to remember when you feel yourself slowly falling into the traps of his smile and looks. The reminder is there when a Mercedes Benz S-Class pulls up and Jungkook isn’t as astonished as you are. The window of the driver’s side rolls down, revealing a middle-aged man who wears a chauffeur’s hat and a grin upon his lips. “Jeon Jungkook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hyungjin,” He dips his head in acknowledgement before saying your name, “... this is my date. This guy has been my driver since I was born. Park Hyungjin. He’s going to be taking us to the estate tonight.”

Jungkook opens the back door for you as you slide in with ease, completely in veneration at the characteristics of the vehicle. It feels luxurious, from the leather seats to the center console, and when you see Hyungjin beginning to raise the customized partition between the front and back seats, you’re shocked it can even do that until Jungkook halts him from doing so. “Uh, sorry, Hyungjin, she’s not one of those nights.”

Oh, you think to yourself, this was a routine. His preceding lifestyle is starting to unfold before you.

Arriving at the ‘estate,’ which was something you’d had been stuck with trying to adjust yourself in calling Jungkook’s family home, it’s an unreservedly different part of the home compared to your first visit however a sudden coldness hits your core from incredulity. How could anyone need a home this big? Jungkook guides you out of the car before you could even register the visuals of the home, waving Hyungjin goodbye and brisk “thank you.”

“Hold my hand.” His fingertips brush against the back of your hand discreetly, and as a reflex, you slap him away while he whimpers in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. Habit.” When you try to reach for him again, he opts for resting his palm on your lower back instead, keeping you close. “It’s okay. Is this alright?” You nod. “This is better anyway. We look close yet at the same time professional.”

When you step into the ballroom, you quickly learn that your previous time at the Jeon estate had only been a glimpse of what Jungkook’s sumptuous home had to offer. There’s something of a mezzanine or indoor balcony of some sorts with staircases that branch around the perimeter where a couple people stand idly. The chandelier that you saw in the dining room before was no comparison to what was currently hanging from the ceiling right now— there’s diamonds that hang like raindrops, intricately scattered with clear clarity that only the rich could identify and have the opportunity to see in person. The guests are dressed like those diamonds— sparkles and jewels of women that bathed in the crystals, accompanied by men who simply wore tuxedos and suits.

But the real stars of the show were the Jeons. With Mrs. Jeon’s hair in an updo, it accentuates her collarbones and shoulders where her dress lies; a beautiful detailed lavender gown that you can already sense the weight of when she drags it behind her. You see where Jungkook gets his genes from.

The filler music from the orchestra that plays in the corner stops, the chattering along with it as they all divert their attention to the Jeons that stand by the railings of the balcony— the four boys and their dates. All that’s missing is Jungkook who stands beside you, hand graduating from your lower back to your waist.

“Hello, everyone,” Mrs. Jeon greets, a pearly white smile upon her lips. “I am so thankful for your attendance here. As you know, tonight is dedicated toward the Cancer Research Foundation of Seoul, known as the CRFS, and I will be the host tonight but the true genius behind this all is my son, Jeon Jungsik.”

Jungsik approaches his mother from the side, dressed just as well as the rest of his siblings, shaking his head in disapproval. “Mother, I couldn’t have done this without you,” He says humbly, eyes browsing the crowd but pauses when he sees Jungkook with you by his side. There’s something hidden behind his stare, Jungkook hypothesizes, because his modest brother suddenly wants the spotlight whereas previously, he’d be standing in the audience. He can’t tell if it’s because it’s the first family event where he’s sober or if truly there’s something about Jungsik that’s different. “But tonight is a different kind of night. We’re here today not to just donate what we can to a good cause, but celebrating as well. I’m announcing my engagement with Kim Nari.”

An abrupt realization washes over Jungkook.

Kim Nari. The daughter of a tech mogul whose relationship with Jungsik would further advance the Jeon Corporation and skyrocket their profits. Her marriage with Jungsik would link the two companies together, creating possibilities for what seemed to be impossible. Which brings to question, why would Jungsik be interested in Nari? She’s a reflection in the mirror of Jungkook himself— uncontrollable, spoiled, and dependent with no future planned. Why would Jungsik, someone with passions, dreams, and stability want to be with someone like that? Something was up, and Jungkook can taste the bitterness in his mouth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, but you genuinely don’t care. Anything would be better than listening to conversations that were beginning to start up again at the hasty announcement. Nari has one of her hands sitting upon the rail, waving as if she’s the Queen of England, with a dress that may be deemed inappropriate for a setting like this. It seems that the rest of the family is hearing the engagement for the first time though because Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s going to faint and Mr. Jeon is holding in his anger rather than noticing Nari’s attire.

“Nothing, just... something weird with my brother.” He says before turning to give you his attention again. “Anyway, should I introduce you to my horrific bloodline?”

When Jungkook guides you toward his family members that have begun trickling down the staircase, you’re appearing to have heart palpitations from the suspense. The way the Jeons walk is intimidating alone; shoulders pushed back, straightened posture, and smiles that resemble authenticity on the surface but daggers will be pulled at their disposal if anything goes haywire.

“Mother, Father, this is my girlfriend...” You altogether miss when Jungkook says your name from the sight of his family up close until he squeezes your waist gingerly to capture your awareness again. “Oh, yes, hi,” You bow speedily, “I’m uh, Jungkook’s girlfriend.” Wait. Didn’t he just say that?

“Are you now? Last time we spoke, you said you weren’t,” Mrs. Jeon comments, and albeit her words sound harsh, the draw of her lips upwards say otherwise. It feels a bit forced, but you know it’s from the sudden news coming from Jungsik. There’s a façade of happiness when deep down, she’s disappointed. “We... we met after that night and he treated me to dinner for taking care of him. We’ve been... seeing each other ever since.”

Mr. Jeon stands there in silence, observing the conversation between you and his wife before unexpectedly speaking up. “Did you attend University? And have you graduated yet?”

Jungkook knows what this is. The Interrogation. Every Jeon child’s significant other has gone through this and you were next. He had completely forgotten about it— mostly because his other brothers had gone through it years ago, and Jongseok’s ‘girlfriends’ had never really been girlfriends, so their dad had given up on that until someone serious came by.

He never thought it’d be him before Jongseok.

“Yes, back in 2016.” You state, fingers fidgeting with the metal chain of your purse. It was a simple question yet the way it’s executed is as if he’s searching for a particular answer.

The older gentleman tilts his head, the space between his brows crinkling in perplexity. He looks so much like Jungkook, except matured with wisdom, and if Jungkook was of any replication of his father when he’s that age, he’d probably still have a line of women after him. “So you’re older than Jungkook.”

“No, father,” Jungkook chimes in, “... Quite the opposite. She’s actually a year younger than me. Graduated University rather early. Or... well, she finished high school early.” He can see from his peripheral vision that he has captured the ears of his other siblings that stand languidly. “Gifted, really. Child prodigy. Despite all the talented Jeon children, we’ve never had one of those.”

There’s a glimmer in his father’s eyes. He’s impressed. “Really?” His stiff tone has shifted to a lighter one. “Did you study in Seoul? What was your degree in?”

“No, uh, I actually studied abroad in New York after graduating high school. I was about... maybe fifteen at the time? I chose Food Science— I thought about being a Chef because my inspiration is Guy Fieri but someone told me to be a bit more realistic with my brain so here we are.”

Guy Fieri? Jungkook stifles a laugh at your secretive role model, rubbing your sides comfortingly. It’s something to tease you about later, but right now, you have a job to do. Swoon his father.

Mr. Jeon nods, hands slipping into the front pockets of his slacks. “Remarkable. We could use someone like you in the Jeon Corporation.”

Both you and Jungkook choke, clearing your throats at the sudden suggestion, glancing at one another. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m thinking about opening a chain of restaurants, something high end, something different.” Jungkook’s brothers are stepping in closer to listen shamelessly to the conversation, the look of disarray stamped onto each one of their faces as if it’s the first time they’re hearing this information, for the second time tonight. “I would love it if you gave me your take on how to proceed on some things, and help the chef formulate something that makes sense without him cheating me out on prices. Jungkook, tell Maeri to schedule something for us so I can discuss further details.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” You blurt, palms growing sweaty. “But you just met me, and Jungkook and I just started dating. Are you sure you trust me?” It’s another experience of déjà vu; Jungkook mirroring his father’s actions at the yacht party when he claims that he’d pay for your aspirations.

“Of course. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t have girlfriends.”

Just then, someone taps his shoulder and whispers something ineligible into his ear before he turns to you with his hand extended, and you take the offer with a firm shake. “I’m needed elsewhere. It was nice meeting you. Glad to know Jungkook chose someone fitting.” And with that, he leaves.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Mrs. Jeon comments, hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems that sending you off to live alone has brought nothing but good impressions on your father. Keep it up, Kook-ah. I’m going to go accompany him, so in the meanwhile, introduce her to your brothers, why don’t you?”

Turning your body to face Jungkook, you let out the hugest breath you’ve ever held in your entire life. “What was that?”

He looks equally as stunned as you. “I don’t know but that went so much better than I actually thought. I think that was the fastest he’s ever been fascinated by any of our girlfriends.”

Jungkook’s father had strict outlooks for the company, one of them being that he wanted nothing but pure Jeon blood leading the corporation. This meant that the significant others of any of his children weren’t allowed to be part of the trade. So why did he ask you particularly for a hand in the family business?

“Jungkook,” One of his brothers calls out, your heads sharply jolting at the sound of his voice.

Have you ever watched Boys Over Flowers? When the Flower 4 walk through any entrance, it’s like time slows down and their hair flows through the wind like they’re models?

That’s what pretty much happens.

“Hyungs.” He says; it’s their own version of a hello and the atmosphere between them is tense. “It’s nice to see you sober, Jungkook.”

His jaw tightens. “I wasn’t an addict, just you so know. Made it easier being around you all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The one you assume is Jongseok from your previous google search waves his hand, disregarding Jungkook’s statement before pointing his finger directly at you. If only you could bite it off along with his rude mannerisms. “Girl toy?”

“Girlfriend,” Jungkook corrects him and his other brothers are intrigued. “This is my girlfriend,...” As he says your name, your eyes immediately are drawn to the woman behind one of the males; shiny caramel colored hair with the simplest white dress that hugs her small waist that still manages to make her look like a goddess with a smile that was so sweet your teeth start to hurt. You recall catching a sight of her in the same magazines that Jungkook featured in and on the posters at the mall whenever you’d walk into a store but how she looked in person was flawless compared to those photos. She was like the real life version of a photoshopped picture.

“This is Hayoung, my brother Junghwan’s wife.”

“Uh, H-H-Hi,” why does she make you so nervous? Do you get anxious around extremely beautiful women? “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” She hums, cheekbones high with her grin. “Kookie never mentioned he had a girlfriend, let alone brought anyone to meet his family before.”

“Kookie?” You reiterate with a mocking tone. He knows you’ll never let him live this down. Least he still had the Guy Fieri thing up his sleeve. “Noona, it would’ve been nice to keep that away from her for a bit. I’m trying to ease her into this madness. She’s probably still recovering from that conversation with our father.”

“As if!” Hayoung counters back. Her husband, Junghwan, wraps an arm around her waist before dipping his head slightly toward you. “I’m Junghwan, Jungkook’s older brother.” He then begins to point at the other gentlemen. “Jonghyun, Jungsik, and Jongseok, respectively.”

Frankly, it had been a lot to unpack for the night, and you assumed that the boxes back at his apartment were a lot, but this was truly a lot. Within an hour, Jungkook introduces you to almost anyone that plays a significant role in his life and elaborates on each of their backgrounds.

Junghwan, his eldest brother, is married to the international supermodel Na Hayoung, and he’s the next in line to inherit the CEO position when his father steps down from the company. He’s been trained all his life for this role, apparently, and it’s evident in how he carries himself. Jonghyun, the second oldest, stands behind Junghwan in the company, supposedly his right hand man when it comes to business, joined at the hip although their personal relationship with each other isn’t as close. He’s also married, Jungkook mentions, but his wife is currently very pregnant and at home. He skips over Jungsik, only because you’ve met him over dinner, but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says that Jungsik is purportedly the angelic Jeon. Lastly was Jongseok, the last sibling before himself, and was described as something along the lines of, “the most useless, right after myself, and if it weren’t for his involvement with the marketing department because of his diploma, he’d be living in a studio apartment downtown, cut off from this family too.” Jungkook’s words, not yours.

The night slowly reaches an end, people scattering to leave the estate, thanking Jungkook’s parents for hosting such a charitable event. Just before you’re about to step out along with Jungkook, his mother had her fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Jungkook, you and your lovely girlfriend should stay the night. Downtown is far and your siblings will be here as well. Maybe you can show her to your bedroom? I know you’ve been missing your bed and well... maybe show her around your childhood home.” She pauses for a moment as Jungkook hesitates as you eye him suspiciously before interrupting his thoughts. “Your father wants to speak to you and your brothers in the morning anyways, so it would be nice for you to stay for breakfast, dear.”

“Are you fucking dense, Jeon Jungkook? I do not want to stay the night here.” Contradicting your angry words, you’re already unlatching the attachment on the straps of your heels, sliding them off while seated on the bay window seats of his bedroom, rubbing the soles of your feet. “I’m sorry,” He mutters weakly, falling on the foot of his bed. “I don’t know how to say no to my mother.”

“Well, quit being a fucking momma’s boy and call an Uber. I want to go home, Jungkook.”

“Uber’s don’t run this late at night in the area. We live too far off the grid.”

“Well, then ask Mr. Hyungjin to pull up in his whip and take us home.”

His face drops, a guilty look pooling in his orbs. “We sent him home. He’s technically off on the weekends. Hyungjin only came out because Junghwan asked for him beforehand.”

You grumble, laying back on the cushions, locks tangling along with your mood. “What are we supposed to do here? Share a bed? What am I supposed to wear to sleep? Did you already ask your housemaids?”

“No,” He answers bleakly, standing up. “But I’ll go ask now. In the meantime, you can watch some TV? Then when I come back you can shower and do whatever you need. I think I have a spare toothbrush for you to borrow. As for the bed thing...” Jungkook looks over at that California King that he misses so much. “... it’s more than big enough for the two of us, I’ll keep my distance from you without a problem.”

Before you can counter the suggestion, he’s already out the door.

Perusing through his bedroom, you soon learn that this ‘room’ of his is the size of your childhood bedroom times five with a closet the size of your apartment with a connecting bathroom that was equivalent in surface area.

Then it has you thinking. Jungkook grew up like this, in a life of grandeur where everything he had, he had a plethora of. Whether it be education, belongings, or the aid of people who tended to every need he had, it never seems to run out. He had a driver since he was born while you struggled to learn how to take the bus alone at the age of 7. Or running out of money to pay for a new notebook for class since you’ve been using the same one for the past two grades in order to save cash so your parents could put food on the table. While Jungkook over here was probably tearing down trees in his yard to make all the paper in the world. What about noticing that you were ahead of the kids in your class? No one seemed to have realized it until you said to someone that you were bored, and needed more challenging material when you got sent to the Principal’s office per request, begging to be with the bigger kids.

If you had the money Jungkook had, you would’ve been able to pay off both yours and your parents’ debt in addition to opening your bakery all within the same year.

But you aren’t Jungkook, and jealousy just runs through your veins alongside the enmity.

Entering through the housemaids’ chambers was a nostalgic feeling that he couldn’t exactly say was his favorite. Sneaking down here during the late hours of the night for quick sex and running back up to his bedroom felt like such a teenager thing to do at the age of twenty, so he instantaneously gave up on that.

There’s two wooden doors to choose from. Nayeon, the house servant he slept with several times before realizing that she had falling for him while thinking it was some forbidden love, and Hana... also a servant that he had sex with until she also fell in love with him.

So which one of them would be less upset about him asking to borrow their sleepwear for his new girlfriend?

Answer to that question: neither because they both slammed their doors on him after asking. He should’ve figured that sooner.

Next stop: Junghwan’s room. Maybe Hayoung had something for you.

He hesitates when he’s standing outside of his brother’s bedroom door. It takes him back to when he was a kid all over again, desperate for his big brother’s attention who didn’t even have enough time to dedicate to him. Taking in a deep breath of courage, he does it yet again, his knuckles tapping against the wood that makes the same knocking sound.

Peeking out, Junghwan looks at Jungkook with a perplexed expression. “Jungkook, what’s up? Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Is noona with you?” He nods. “Yeah, of course. She’s washing her face right now, wanna come in?” Jungkook steps into the room, ambivalent with each movement because he’s never been invited into Junghwan’s room before. It’s almost exactly what his room looks like, except all the shades are dark, varying from grey to navy, with his bed, closet, and bathrooms in the same locations.

“Hayoung, Jungkook is looking for you.”

“Kookie?” Coming out the bathroom with a robe on, her hair is drenched as she attempts to towel dry it, face pretty even without makeup. “What’s up, bub?”

“Uh, my girlfriend,” He starts, rubbing the back of his nape anxiously because he’s never said those words before, “She doesn’t have anything to wear tonight. I have some clothes, but I think she’d feel more comfortable if she at least has some pants.”

“Tell her to sleep in her underwear, what’s the problem?” Because she’s not really my girlfriend, is what he wants to say, but he takes a different approach. “We’re... still in the early stages. So, uh, you know. She’s shy.” She shakes her head with a smile upon her lips. “Okay. Give me a second. I have a bunch of clothes that I left when we used to live here.” With that, she disappears into the closet.

“I’m... proud of you, Jungkook.” Junghwan speaks up, protruding through the silence. Jungkook just stares in bewilderment, unsure what he even did to make Junghwan say those words he had dreamt to hear coming from his eldest brother. “Other than landing a girlfriend who is definitely way out of your league, you’re actually showing some progress living alone. I honestly didn’t really agree with the plan that Jongseok proposed but... I see it’s working well.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jungkook questions. He still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Junghwan hums. “You were able to find a job yourself. I haven’t seen you coming back begging for money again, and you found someone who doesn’t have the facilities to give you the lifestyle that our parents gave us. You found love without money and I think it really makes a person humble.” He’s fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants now, comprehending that the two of them don’t really talk one-on-one. “I know I changed a lot when I met Hayoung.”

“Kookie, I think I have a couple options for you— whoa, why does it feel so sad here?” She remarks, stopping in the midst of her walk toward Jungkook. “You guys... alright?”

“Nothing,” Junghwan responds quickly. “I just wanted to tell Jungkook that I’m proud of him.” This does nothing but prompt Hayoung to roll her eyes, laying out a pair of shorts and a silky baby blue nightgown. “Junghwan is always proud of Kookie, just not always the decision he makes. Anyways,” She completely brushes off the topic that Jungkook wants to hear, but he’ll circle back to that later. He had a pretty girl waiting in his room who had the temper of the Hulk. “I have two options for you to give her. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll wear the night gown?”

Jungkook scoffs. “If I brought that to her, she’d probably wrap it around my neck and choke me within seconds. Keep the gown, I’m taking the shorts. I’ll let her wear one of my T-shirts.”

“Are you sure?” Hayoung sings and Jungkook tells her he’s almost confident that he’s going to die tonight if he so much reaches the door with that thing in his hands.

Jungkook chucks the shorts at your face while you’re laying on your back on his mattress. “Here you go, Mrs. Fieri. The girls wouldn’t lend me anything because well... I may have slept with them both and they were hopelessly in love with me. Hayoung noona gave me those shorts instead.” He’s babbling on about how rude the housemaids had been when he asked, but you’re canceling his voice out because the coolest chick you’ve ever met just lent you her shorts.

“... Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

He snaps his fingers in front of your face but registers that it’s no use. You’re too busy trying to decipher how God decided to gift Hayoung the looks and the personality that you miss when Jungkook leaves the closet, throwing a plain white t-shirt at your direction. It’s huge compared to you, yet seems like it would fit him well. “Go shower. I’ll be in there after you.”

It’s awkward.

So goddamn awkward.

Jungkook is wearing a black T-shirt of some band you can’t recognize because the majority of the print has been worn off paired with grey sweatpants that hug his ass so beautifully. Scratch that. You never thought that. They look soft. That’s what you meant.

While you’re currently occupied with attempting to avoid looking at Jungkook, he can’t stop staring at your exposed legs and notice how small and cute you are. Soft. It’s tempting him to want to wrap his arms around your frame and snuggle his nose into the crook of your neck while inhaling the scent of his body wash on your skin. He wants to blame it on the dry spell he’s having because all he does is work nowadays that once he gets home, he’s completely drained. Alcohol doesn’t even appear in his mind either. Or maybe he genuinely thinks you’re pretty and having you in his bed doesn’t make it any better.

Sitting on the farthest opposite ends of the bed, Jungkook clears his throat. “See? I told you that the bed is way too big for the two of us. Should be easy to steer clear from each other.”

Wrong. Incorrect. You should’ve known that Jungkook would be fallacious.

The sun gleams through the sheer white blinds of his prodigious windows, illuminating your faces on an unironically Sunday morning, emitting a groan from a stiff beside you. Your body feels heavier than usual, almost like something was pressing down on you.

You panic. Were you having a stroke?

After forcing your eyes open from the dry boogers, you can’t believe the sight. Jungkook has his arms and legs tangled in the sheets with yours, nose brushing against your shoulder. He’s so cosy, the most he’s ever been, and the warmth from your body is like a different feeling of home for him. It’s comforting like a cup of hot chocolate during the harsh weather in the Winter or swaddling yourself in a blanket in front of the fireplace. Now knowing how it feels to be in your embrace, he’s not sure if he wants to let go.

“Jungkook, please get the fuck off me.” You bite. Cuddling was not what was discussed in the terms of agreement. Not that there was one but having a buff guy curled up beside you that wasn’t actually dating you was making your heart do cartwheels when it shouldn’t be. He doesn’t seem a bit rattled knowing that he’s snuggling up against you because he scoots even closer. “Five more minutes.” He mutters. His dreams of taking in the aroma of your natural scent mixed in with his shower gel were coming true.

You push him off with as much strength as your body could gather, yet you fail underneath those muscular arms. Those big, thick—

There’s one knock and someone just immediately flings the door open with a gasp.

But then you see them. Jungsik and Jongseok.

You don’t know why but you care about how Jungsik sees you, but you care. He’s the closest to your ideal type— as unrealistic as it is for him to ever have a relationship with you, especially since he has a fiancé now— yet at the same time, he knows you’re ‘dating’ Jungkook, and whether or not he believes it, you’re not sure, but your chances were already wearing thin as it is, even worse now that he’s witnessing you in the same bed as his youngest brother. You may have a teensy weensy little crush on your fake boyfriend’s brother.

“Cute,” He chuckles, already dressed in his daily attire; grey slacks that crop at the ankle and a navy dress shirt that doesn’t button up all the way, hugging tightly around his pecs that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “Well, we’re sorry for intruding. Father wants us down for breakfast within an hour. Wake up your boyfriend for us, will you?”

“I’m not sorry,” Jongseok adds with a devilish grin before he quickly shuts the door and leaves promptly with Jungsik. Jungkook hasn’t even moved, not even twitching the slightest bit despite his brothers’ abrupt invasion.

You officially hate Jungkook even more... if that was even possible.

There's an abundance of choices for breakfast foods that sits on the length of the dining room table that you had gotten a glimpse of during your first visit to the Jeon estate, more food than you've ever seen in one place. They had waffles, pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast—all that’s expected of a typical American breakfast laid out like it’s a picture from the Food Network Magazine. He has servants, shuffling through in and out of the room, placing plates and utensils in specific detailed orders before they pull out the heavy upholstered wooden chairs for each and every member of the family in invitation.

"Uh, it's okay, thank you, I got it—" The woman who has her hands gripped on the framing of the seat tightly as she clenches her jaw, has a glare shooting lasers in your direction. Maybe you'd just take the offer and sit instead. She might be one of Jungkook's late night affairs, you never know what she'd do to your food if you didn't comply.

Sticking out like a sore thumb, you settle yourself by your now claimed to-be-boyfriend who sits comfortably in his own seat since he's owned it for two decades now. You, however, it's your first day and you're not even sure how to feel. Hayoung seems to be doing the opposite; eyes shiny from excitement at the sight of all the options that are laid out in front of her. You can agree to her interest, the Belgium waffles that's stacked at the center of the table with a square of butter residing on top makes your mouth water.

"Thank you all for coming," Jungkook's father announces, the chair he's rested on makes him look so tiny at the head of the table. "I want to discuss some matters with all of you and also invite Jungkook's new love into the family. Honestly never thought this day would come where I'd see my most troublesome child make such advancements in a short span of time."

There's reticence along the table, Mrs. Jeon beside him, eyes searching the table for something in particular. "The proceedings with this engagement with Kim Nari, Jungsik. What did you expect would happen with that?"

And there it was. The conversation that had been put off last night due to guests being on the residence. It's because of two of the things that Mr. Jeon stood by when it came to his family and business: no bloodline, no business entrance had been challenged and the Interrogation had never been in place.

"Father," Jungsik clears his throat, pressing his back against the cushion. "I'll have you know that I'm only thinking of the future of our company."

"Without talking to me about it?" He snaps, agitated. He doesn't even care that a complete stranger is sitting at the table with them. "What gives you the right to be the only person to know what's good or not for the company? Why not consult with Jonghyun and Junghwan? Why am I told that no one knew about this?"

"Well, I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He confirms, and the Belgium waffles don't seem as appealing anymore. His firmness makes your stomach queasy, despite not being his current victim. "Terminate your engagement. You don't love her anyways. I don't need any affiliation with a self-obsessed tech company."

"But father—"

"None of that." He shushes his son, laying a beige cloth napkin on his lap. "I'm tired of having to teach you how we run this business. I gave you a percentage of the company and I expect you to know what to do with it, which is not to share it with some airhead who doesn't even understand what her own father's company does." Jungsik's body stiffened at his father's lecture after he made a decision solely for what he believed was beneficial for the family business. "Anyways, let's eat."

"Why do you favor Junghwan over the rest of us?" Jungsik spits, fist slamming against the table. The cups, silverware, and plates trembled underneath his strength, startling you. "I can't believe that I let you walk over us for so long. I can't believe that any of us has let you do it. In reality, none of us get your fortune, just Junghwan. What about the rest of your children? Do you have the only one? Or did mother have an affair for the remaining four?"

Yum, drama. You admit you were getting a little bored last night at the banquet, but his conversation was perking you up in interest. Jungkook oddly remains cool, turning to tap one of the housemaids to pour you some apple juice, patiently waiting for the go to eat.

Jungsik is disparate in this light because he's not the compassionate and gentle soul you had assumed he was during your first encounters and what was seen on the internet. He’s fierce and competitive, in actuality, with this hidden duel behind doors against his eldest brother. The description written of him was all an image that was portrayed to the public and you start to see what Jungkook means now when he says "apparently" or "supposedly" whenever talking about his older brother.

And Jungkook... he's strangely distinctive as well when sitting amongst his siblings. He's quiet, actually, and attentive, but you take note that he mentions before how he often comes to these things under the influence, and that your presence was what halts him from doing so.

"Just eat. We'll talk privately later." Mr. Jeon says through his gritted teeth, tips of his ears fading red from Jungsik talking back.

"I saw you eying that waffle earlier," Jungkook says in a hushed tone, leaning into you. "Want one? I'll grab it for you."

OK, maybe he wasn't that bad. He knows what you like and he’s getting it for you. You’ve waited long enough.

The Jeons are awfully good at pretending the argument between Mr. Jeon and Jungsik didn't occur. Everyone sits in lull, occasionally exchanging comments with whomever sits beside them but consuming their breakfast with glee. It wasn't something you were used to.

When you're back into Jungkook's room, you slip on a jacket that you brought the night before, zipping it up. "Is that... normal?"

"What's normal?"

"That whole thing with Jungsik and your dad. Do they fight often? And do you guys normally just... sit there and forget it even happens afterwards?"

He slides onto the bed one last time, inhaling deeply in the scent of lavender, wishing he could take this bed with him as he absentmindedly responds, "Mmm. Yeah."

What kind of family dynamic is this? "Yeah? And you just... watch?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Join in? Take sides? Hell no. It's a different sibling each meal and every time there’s always someone being jealous of someone else. We don’t really get along here and it’s just what we’re used to.”

Treading into Jungkook’s reality was starting to become comprehensible. Almost justifying the way he is, how he’s utterly clueless in basic situations and disconnected he was from the world. Because this is his world; his parents, four brothers, and house full of servants, and he knows nothing outside of it. Their home is completely off the grid, separated from people living regular lives, he even has his own tennis court (you learned from the view from his bedroom), and no one normal has their own private tennis court. His mother has been shielding him his entire life, letting him grow and become a shell of a man in an empty home.

Family isn’t family to him, is what you’ve come to terms with and something he hasn’t yet accepted because he hasn’t seen what a real family looks or feels like. His home isn’t a real home but brimming with employees who work for his family that probably see him more than the people who he called relatives.

It makes you pity him and want to show him what it’s like to be home.

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic

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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

Note

So sorry to add onto your pile of reqs but I just really love the way u write 😭❤️

Could you write something for some really soft and fluffy cuddling with hobie 🥺? Just some casual banter/teasing here and there while really just basking in each others presence

Hi hun! Thank you for your request ❤️ I really love writing cuddling in bed, just spending time with each other 🥹 hope you like this!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The soft music blares out from your headphones, the afternoon rain gives you the perfect excuse to stay in bed for the rest of the day. You're properly tucked inside the covers, the only thing Hobie sees of you is the upper half of your face, lashes kissing the heavy blanket, your eyes are closed, the only indication that you're awake is your feet tapping rhythmically under the covers.

Hobie comes out of the shower feeling refreshed after a hard patrol, he leans on the doorway, wiping the water droplets off his torso, the pajama pants you've bought for him are soft against his skin. He watches as you listen happily to your music.

Hobie tosses the towel somewhere, jumping next to you in bed, you gasp when your body suddenly lifts a few inches off the mattress. Hobie laughs loudly when he sees your startled face, you can hear him guffaw through the music. Lifting off the earphones, you pout at him for disturbing your peace. The rain knocks on the closed windows, the wind howling outside.

"Hobie! I almost dropped my phone" you sit up by your elbows, your eyes quickly scan his naked torso, shutting you up immediately.

Hobie smirks when he sees you staring "oi perv, what are you listening to?"

" 'm not a perv" you murmur, Hobie almost missed it, he grabs you by your shoulder lying you back down gently, you lie on your side, face to face with Hobie. He pulls you by your waist, his fingers caress the soft skin where your shirt hitched up, "alright, 'not a perv' what're you listening to?"

Hobie turns, laying on his chest. His eyes stare at you the entire time, hand glued to your waist. You lovingly wipe at a wet spot he missed on his nape. His eyes flatter close at the contact, making him completely relax, thinking you're massaging his sore muscle. You indulge him, kneading his skin with your fingers.

"You won't like it" he hums a reply, eyes still closed "it's a slow pop song"

"Let me hear it, just pop it in" He groans in pleasure when you massage a particularly tensed muscle.

It's a struggle, giving him an earphone while you're massaging his neck, practically playing twister. You manage though, slipping the other earphone on his ear, the other one on yours. You both listen in on the same music, a smile spreading across your face, knowing exactly what his reaction will be in a few seconds.

He listens in for exactly five seconds before he flings the earphone away from his ear, making you giggle.

"I told you! you wouldn't like it!" You say in between laughs. Your hands stop from massaging him, palm laying flat on his toned back.

"The 'babygirl' got me" he scrunches his nose, making you laugh harder. It's exactly what you thought his reaction would be. You copy his position, laying flat on your chest, hooking your leg over his. His soft pants tickle you slightly.

Hobie has a lopsided smile, you grin back at him, leaving a sticky kiss on the tip of his nose.

He chuckles at your adorable affection, Hobie moves your hair out of your face, seeing you in all of your glory. Heat blossoms on your face, you shuffle closer to him, arms tucked on your side, breaths mixing together.

"You like the pants I left you?" You tease him by smoothing your foot over his leg, feeling the fuzzy material kiss your skin. "You actually make it work"

"What can I say, I look good in everything" he plants his hand back on your waist, this time he fixes your shirt, covering your exposed skin, worrying that you might get cold.

"I know, it's unfair" you pout, he takes one of your hands, intertwining them with his. "Sorry, it was the only thing available in your size"

"And here I thought you bought it on purpose"

"Kinda" you smile widely "at least it's black though" you laugh when he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, sure" to tell you the truth he actually likes it, it's nice to wear something different from time to time, especially when it's this comfortable. "Come closer, you're too far" he acts like you're far away, even though there's no way for you to get any closer to him.

"You could just tell me you want to cuddle" you hold out your arms, Hobie immediately positions himself in between them. You raise your leg up, bringing it over his waist, completely cageing him in your embrace. And that's absolutely alright for him, he sighs, content.

"You want me to massage you again? Or a nap?" You kiss his bare shoulder, sending goosebumps over his skin.

"Nap sounds good, lovey" He yawns.

"Nap it is" you whisper against his skin. You're sure your arms are gonna be sore by the time you both wake up, it's a small price to pay, you'd gladly offer it again to Hobie.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #spider punk #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #fanfic #hobie fluff

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bangtanfanfiction · 10 months ago

Text

hopelessly falling → k. sunwoo (tbz)

Based on this ask.

♢ Pairing: Sunwoo x Idol!female Reader → Idol AU

♢ Word count: 6.8k

♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man

♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig

⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected. ↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.

HOBI: Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always! JIMIN: You’ll do great! JIN: We’ll be monitoring you :)) YOONGS: Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo. JOONIE: Y/N fighting! JK: Fighting! TAE: Go, go, go Y/N!

Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.

Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves.

Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return.

Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror.

Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.

You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them.

The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly.

Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´

Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same.

The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours.

But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness.

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.

“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”

Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation.

Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences.

Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher.

“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”

Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her.

“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it.

“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes.

Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup.

“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”

“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you.

“Henry Cavill does not count.”

“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”

“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”

“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat.

Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great.

You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy.

“Y/N it’s time to head out.”

Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.

Y/N: I'm off now! Love you!

You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions.

It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry.

You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage.

Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it.

You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved.

The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week.

However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song.

You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on.

Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds.

But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future.

“Hi, hello,

My name is what you want it to

숨겨 왔던

욕망들을 whisper.”

Huh.

A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils.

“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention.

“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.

You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.

The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp.

You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward.

“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”

The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.”

The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.

“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you.

“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music.

“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?”

“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”

“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”

Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable.

“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.”

“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”

Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier.

“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes.

But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed.

Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow.

His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.

An image still swimming in your mind.

An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions.

Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness.

You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance.

Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.

No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.

“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status.

“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”

At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip.

“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.

Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face.

“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view.

Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now.

Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh.

You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio.

So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself.

Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?

“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room.

Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too.

Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast.

The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.

“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest.

“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”

“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”

Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”

You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent.

“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?

“Stop what?”

You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”

“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?”

Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.

“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.

“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.

Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck.

Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”

If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it.

The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed.

Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”

“I know.”

However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck.

“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him.

“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off. “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”

You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”

Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.

An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved.

“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider.

“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle.

He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”

There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat.

“You…want my number?”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again.

So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”

“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”

Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow.

This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances.

Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway.

“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes.

But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it.

Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what.

Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number.

You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.

“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.

So you weren’t the only one affected at least.

UNKNOWN: What’s your favorite drink? Y/N: Who is this? UNKNOWN: I’m hurt, noona. Y/N: Ah Hello to you too, Sunwoo You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo. SUNWOO: Backtracking to the question. Y/N: I’m a coffee addict SUNWOO: Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano? Y/N: I’m more of a sweet latte girl SUNWOO: A woman after my own heart. Y/N: Alright you little flirt Care to explain? SUNWOO: I’m planning for our date ofc Y/N: Oh? Did I miss the location? SUNWOO: It’s a surprise Y/N: Should I be worried? SUNWOO: Why do you keep doubting me :( Y/N: Acting cute won’t help you SUNWOO: heart emoji Y/N: But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo I got high standards after all ;) SUNWOO: I guess the pressure is on

“Hi.”

“...hey.”

Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it.

“Why are you breathless?”

“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”

“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed.

“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”

“Hm, what a gentleman.”

“For you? Always.”

You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing.

“I tried seeing you today.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”

“What did you do today?”

“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”

Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”

“Oh shush you.”

A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak.

“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it.

“...Like what?”

“This. Just talking to you, noona.”

Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”

It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully.

The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place.

And did you regret it.

“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team.

You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted.

They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years.

The haters would have a field day with that.

“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background.

“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people.

You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan.

It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle.

You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies.

You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo.

He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax.

“Are you okay?”

Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”

You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.

“Thank you.”

Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.

His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring.

“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up.

“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”

“What makes you think there is?”

Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”

Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”

“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”

Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”

His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you.

“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened.

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.

Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely.

You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was mesmerized.

Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers.

Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS.

Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away.

And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to.

After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch.

Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause.

Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.

“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat.

If only his members knew the truth.

“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members.

Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage.

He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self.

The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi.

You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly.

He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT.

You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder.

The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.

He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips.

“Was that a bit too rough?”

“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in.

The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck.

His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin.

“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action.

“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”

“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure.

He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile.

Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him.

“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”

“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity.

“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him.

Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up.

You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up.

That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips.

Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events.

He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place.

Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down.

Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into.

It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing.

“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him.

“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close.

“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious.

So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end.

You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him.

Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot.

Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction.

“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting.

“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”

Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh.

“That went well.” He grinned.

“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands.

“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”

Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second.

“Yah Kim Sunw-!”

Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.

Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell.

Well. There went the secrecy.

“What…the hell?”

Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.

“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English.

If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up.

Thank you for reading!

masterlist

#bangtanfanfiction #kpop imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #the boyz #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #kim sunwoo x reader #tbz sunwoo imagine #tbz idol au #kim sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines

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keisobe · 1 year ago

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Imagine being Hobie's canon event. Everything is perfect and then WHAM . . .

Just like that, you're gone.

(I'm sorry I love hobie aND making myself suffer apparently-)

okay angsty i see i see and don’t worry, i love to suffer too shshsh ㅜㅜ ♡ ⋮ p.s. this was based heavily on gwen from tasm, so if it feels familiar, that’s why!

+ tw — angst. minor spoilers !! mentions of death. blood.

hobie would be in the amidst of trying to saving you. he never felt so much fear, anger, despair flooding throughout his tired body. if only he was an inch closer, his webbing was more quicker— you would’ve been alive.

he would remember the way you called out for his name, a desperate cry fading into dead silence. the glint in your eyes now completely lifeless and bleak, his webbing barely clung to your clothing as crimson pooled around the crown of your head.

that’s the first time he ever cried in a long time. quiet sobs muffled under his mask, hidden away from the ecstatic cheers from those he managed to save.

you were his reason he abandoned the mantle of spider-man, but you also became his newfound strength to put back on the mask. he knew you never wanted him to give up, at least that’s what he believed you’d say.

the bracelets you wore during your last moments were wrapped around his wrist. your writing and little doodles still decorated his guitar. all the pictures he could find of you were hung along the walls beside the bed you guys once shared.

then he would keep one stuffed in his pocket. the one you guys took in a beaten up photo booth. the smudged image of your smile and silly expressions comforted him during his hardest moments.

though you were now a memory, he kept you safe in his heart. it’s just how it’ll be for now, that’s what hobie told himself infinite amount of times.

the event of your untimely death played in one of the openings of the holographic web. he stared at it for a moment, thinking of ways that he could’ve prevented it. when your head grazes the cement for a split moment, he can’t help but turn away in shame.

yet, hobie would simply shrug his shoulders when miles sadly gazes at him.

“‘ey.. wha’ of it?”

it’s too late now, but if he could go back to that moment, he would rewrite your tragedy and have you right beside him.

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hobiebrownismygod · 7 months ago

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Written in the Stars Pt. 2

Hobie Brown x SirenFem!Reader

Previous | Next

___________

"Over there!"

Hobie dodged out of sight, hiding behind a few empty crates as he waited for the police to run past him. The two badged men quickly walked around the corner, not even noticing the wicks poking out from behind the large boxes, a pair of eyes gazing at them from in between the cracks. Hobie waited for a few moments longer before appearing again, heading in the other direction.

He couldn't go back to his boat. Not yet.

It seemed like there were police at every corner, and he was unable to escape them and their batons. Osborne had been imposing a stricter curfew on the city, and officers were constantly patrolling the area where he usually kept his canal boat.

He knew if he got caught going back, the canal boat would be towed away, he'd be kicked out, and he would end up completely homeless. He refused to let that happen to him again.

That boat was his life. So he decided he'd wait as long as he needed to before it was safe to head back.

He made sure to stay in the darker alleys as he approached one of the many overpasses connecting one end of the city to the other, a bridge that hung tens of feet above the flowing water of the canal. He'd have to crash underneath it for the night. The police didn't care about the people sleeping under the bridge. They never did.

The darkness was eerily empty as he pulled himself down, shivering slightly in the cold as he pushed dirt around, cleaning up a small corner underneath the overpass. He gathered sticks to make a fire and tried his best to make the place as comfortable as he could.

As he hummed to himself, hoping to fall asleep quickly, he kept his eyes on the canal, water rushing down, waves crashing against the shore, just a few feet away from him.

He found the noise soothing, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he listened to the chaotic, unpredictable rhythm. It was beautiful.

And then he heard it.

Four notes.

His eyes shot open and he swiveled his head around, searching for where the noise could have come from. He stood up, approaching the water and looking to the left, where the canal just began to connect to the ocean and a couple of large rocks stood in the distance, protruding out of the water.

Lying on one of them...was you.

The girl he saw just a few days back. Your head peeking out of the water at him, that pretty smile on your face. He wasn't sure who you were...he wasn't even sure if you were human.

But he just knew he had to grab your attention.

"Hey!" he shouted out, waving his arms at you like a madman, walking along the shore towards where you were. "Over here!"

Your head snapped towards where he was and you leaped off the rock, disappearing beneath the water.

His smile fell.

"Wait! Wait no come back!" he yelled, starting to jog over to the rocks, nearly slipping on the wet surface near the edge as he got on his knees and looked over. "Come back." he pleaded, searching beneath the waves.

For a moment...he thought he'd scared you away.

But then he saw your head poking out of the water again. His breath hitched in his throat as you slowly waded over to him, sleek arms pushing the water back as you swam.

"Hi." he said softly, afraid he might scare you. A moment of silence passed as you stared up at him and him at you. "Do you remember me?" he whispered.

You nodded. He grinned. "Really?" he leaned in a little closer, cocking his head to the side slightly. "I-uh, what are you?"

He watched as you copied him, cocking your head to the side as well. You giggled, eyes lighting up. "What am I?" You repeated, an endearing smile on your face.

He nodded. "You're...not human, are you?"

You shook your head no, eyes twinkling up at him.

"So...what are you?" he asked, eagerly leaning in a little more.

"I do not know what you humans call us...but we are known as Seireines."

He cocked his head to the side in response, thinking for a moment. "You mean a siren? You're a siren?"

You blinked. "If that is what you call us, I suppose that is what I am."

"Sirens aren't real" he said with a wide grin. "At least...I didn't believe they were. What're you doing in London?" he asked curiously.

"I...I'm not sure." You said softly, looking around as if you were noticing your surroundings for the first time. "I just remember swimming, as fast as I could, to get away." your voice sounded very far away as you spoke, recalling your last few memories.

"To get away from what?" he questioned curiously, sitting back and looking down at you.

Your eyes snapped back towards him. "To get away from you. Your people." You let out a shaky sigh, submerging your shoulders and bottom half of your neck under the water again, staring up at him sadly. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes. "The hunters. They were after us."

"Hey, hey, don't cry" he said, reaching his hand out and grabbing onto yours, pulling it out from under the water. "Why were they after you? What did they want?"

"We are different from them. They want to kill us, to study us. My people...my family...all taken. All gone."

His heart dropped as he watched you, tears streaming down your face. "Don't cry. Shh." he whispered, wiping your tears away and pulling you up a little out of the water. "Who are these hunters? What are they called? Do you know?"

You hesitated for a moment. "I remember them talking to their leader. They called him...

Kraven."

_______________

A/N

Sorry this is kind of short but part two!! I'm gonna turn this into an actual story probably so enjoy <3 Make sure to fill out the taglist form if you want to be tagged in the next ones, I've attached the link below!! Have a great rest of your week lovelies

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @choccymilkdrinker @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther @trash-panda-xoxo @0strawberrysorbet0

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punkeropercyjackson · 8 months ago

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FUCK FUCK FUCK I COMPLETELY FORGOT THE ACTUAL POINT I WAS GONNA SAY ON MY 'Hobie hates cute things is a ratio ass take' POST WHICH IS Hobie expressed all his beliefs very clearly onscreen-He's anti-capitalism,he believes in solidarity between all minorities but prioritizes other black people,he's completely nonconformist and he thinks people who're considered 'super lame' are his friends by default.That's why i said Margo would get him a game emulator instead of a game console and also want to add on that if he wants merch of anything from something that's not by a small studio he just diy's copies of them and learns recipes of big food chains instead of going to the restaurants,as a black person he's obviously experienced tons of masculanization that was used as dehumanization too and again he wears a crop top and lipstick so i think it's obvious how he's decided to respond and i really doubt he'd be that close to Gwen and Miles if he thought softness and 'immaturity' are something that should be made fun of in other kids.What i'm trying to say is you guys are making Hobie out to be a trope instead of fully fleshed out representation with traits that actively contradict what he's actually like and ngl i find it insulting towards him that you guys actually think Hobie's enough of a supersized pissbaby to get whiny over not being a macho edgecase 24/7 even when the nigga literally killed a police chief at like,16 at the OLDEST,and as i will never stop saying:Canon femme,pink-coded,Dad Friend.As long as it's not shit that goes against actual punk rules,he'd do doing pretty much anything the Spiderband wants with them but they wouldn't to begin with anyway because by the time they'd gotten the chance to hang out normally he'd already radicalized them.Please,read multiple books,punk is a legit culture and pastel punks exist-Hi,it's me!!!-and i'm specifically talking about this because y'all the same slapping the punk label onto any edgelord who has disproven they are as like their arc even.THERE WE GO FINALLY Sorry,i have unmedicated adhd demons

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naeverse · 1 year ago

Text

Keep It In The Closet (Halloween Special) Finale

💜 starring: Miguel O’Hara x Shy fem!reader

🍾 preview:

"I didn't know you had that kind of fire in you, Y/N. You always seemed so… timid," he said, his thumb caressing your side, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a fire within you. "But tonight...

You've been all I’ve thought about."

😈 summary:

Miguel O'Hara finds himself being dragged to a Halloween party by his friend, Peter B. Parker. His disdain for the party quickly dissipates when he is drawn to a mysterious woman in a sleek leopard costume and captivating black mask that seems to move him in ways he'd never thought possible…

🍾 tw/cw: Unprotected sex, Sensory Deprivation, Wall sex, Fingering, Dirty talk, Semi-public sex, Standing, etc…

😈 Pet names: Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Gatita (Kitty), Hermosa (Beautiful)

💜rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🍾Word Count: 9k

(Every character mentioned is of age!!)

😈Credit to artist in header: sylvaeon

After a while of spins of the bottle, a break was held as many members of the game dispersed.

Gwen returned back to the dance floor with Hobie, Margo and Miles left to go to the snack bar whilst Peter and MJ stayed, chatting about Mayday. You watched Miguel leave as well, his tall and muscular build exiting out of the guest bedroom to who knows where.

But you didn't care…

All you knew that you had to get out of here.

You had to leave this party before you did something else that’ll completely taint your name here in the Spider Society.

You hadn’t been recruited long and you’ve already made out with the Spider Society leader!

As you briskly walked out of the guest bedroom and out into the bustling party once again, you couldn’t help but relive that moment.

Miguel’s lips against yours, his tongue dancing, and mingling with your own. His hands along your body, on your back, thighs and bottom. How he groped and touched you without a care in the world of who was watching.

But mostly you remembered how addicting and surreal it all felt and deep down…

How you wanted it to happen again…

You groaned heavily, running your gloved hand through your hair, making sure to avoid your leopard ears in hopes of not knocking it out of place. You wandered around the party, trying to find Gwen to no avail.

Gwen, unlike you, had a Multiverse watch, where just like many other spider-people in the society, was able to travel to different worlds and dimensions for their missions, to hang out with other people from the society, or to go home to their dimension once their work was through for the day.

Due to being a new recruit to the Spider Society, you didn't have one. Gwen is supposed to be something of a mentor to you, but it's become more of a friendship as she has been assigned to accompany you on your missions and to teach you everything about the Spider Society.

You've been a recruit for a month now, to get a watch, it had to be three.

So now, you were left with two choices:

You could either stay at this party, risking the temptation of another round of Spin The Bottle and potentially doing something even worse with Miguel in front of everyone,

Or...

You could scour this entire party for Gwen, with a slim chance of finding her, but knowing that if you did, she might plead and beg you to stay, ultimately leading to your continued presence at the party anyway.

You let out a sigh and crossed your arms, abandoning your search for Gwen. Instead, you leaned against the wall, your eyes looking around the party before you, seeing spider-people in various costumes who were still enjoying the Halloween festivity.

You furrowed your brow, consumed by thoughts of frustration and regret.

You wanted nothing more than to leave this party…

Kissing Miguel, your boss, in front of others, had left you deeply embarrassed and ashamed, regardless of how enjoyable it might have been. It just felt wrong, despite it being a “playful” challenge.

You shouldn’t have done it…

You also had a strong feeling that Gwen would try to push you into something even more regrettable when everyone returned from the break to continue the heinous game of spicy Spin The Bottle.

You needed to find a way to avoid that game at all costs.

As you stood there, lost in thought and considering how to evade the upcoming game, even pondering the idea of hiding in the bathroom,

A pair of crimson eyes were fixed on you nearby…

Miguel stood, not too far away, holding another beer bottle, and his gaze locked on you. Since that kiss, his longing for you had only grown.

He wanted you so much, perhaps more than he had ever desired anything or anyone before.

He bit his lip, his eyes filled with intense lust and desire as they traced the curves of your body. The way your arms hugged your bust, enhancing your breasts through your leopard bodysuit. The allure of your exposed thighs and legs, accentuated by your fishnet stockings. The way your attractive bottom featured a leopard tail that was so enticing, and so very…

Tuggable.

His want for you was palpable, his cock straining under his black slacks. The longer he looked at you, the more his cock stiffened in his pants, slowly hardening and causing a lewd and prominent bulge to appear beneath the restrictive fabric.

'Fuck it.'

He growled under his breath, breaking the restraints he had placed on himself and decided to have some fun.

To indulge in his desires for once…

So once Miguel drank the rest of his alcoholic beverage, he placed it down onto a nearby table and he didn't stop himself when his feet began to walk towards you.

He didn't prevent the many lewd thoughts that came to his head of all the things he'd like to do to you once he got there.

And he certainly didn't care anymore about his role as being your leader.

He didn't give a damn, he just needed you…

Right here,

right now…

You stood against the wall, a sigh escaping your lips as you held onto yourself. Your artificial leopard tail coiled around your leg, offering a strange comfort. You gazed down at the ground, your mind racing with thoughts.

Mostly, you thought of Miguel and how on earth you'd be able to continue working at the Spider Society after that ill-advised kiss with him, the Spider Society leader.

"Y/N."

You jumped at the sound of your name being called, realizing it was none other than the man who had been occupying your thoughts.

You gulped, turning to your left to see Miguel standing there. His massive, taut build accentuated by his scarlet button-up, black blazer, slacks, and leather oxfords. Your eyes took in the alluring gold chain and rings that adorned his body, now visible as you examined him without the pressure of an audience.

"Y-Yes?" you inquired, your voice trembling.

You knew why he was here...

Gazing up at him, you attempted to calm your racing heart and suppress the desire that surged within you. Despite his stern look, he exuded an undeniable appeal, with his thick eyebrows hanging low over his intense amber-red eyes and his lips drawn into their usual permanent scowl.

"We need to talk," he said, his hands crossed over his broad chest, his 7-foot stature towering over you. You struggled to quell the trembling within, knowing the conversation would likely revolve around the recent kiss—a move you found highly unprofessional and deeply regretted.

Miguel's unpredictability was unsettling. Witnessing him play Spin The Bottle with his recruits had already been shocking. Now, as you reflected on the unprofessional nature of your recent actions, a growing fear emerged.

‘What if Miguel kicked you out of society for that improper kiss?’

Your stomach knotted at the mere thought. The looming possibility of expulsion from the Spider Society intensified the unease you felt speaking with Miguel.

"M-Miguel, I-I—"

"Now."

He demanded, seizing your arm and swiftly pulling you through the ongoing party. You yelped at his sudden action, feeling small as his large, tanned hand enclosed your arm, leading you deeper into the penthouse.

Embarrassment surged through you as you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, allowing Miguel to guide you past partygoers in various Halloween costumes. The Halloween decorations, painstakingly arranged by Peter and MJ, blurred past whilst Miguel hurried you away.

It felt like an eternity before his tugging came to a sudden halt. Hastily, he pushed you against the wall in a narrow, empty hallway, his expression inscrutable. His amber eyes flickered with a red hue, quickening your heartbeat.

“M-Miguel, I-I’m sorry,” you stammered through trembling red lips. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I-I should’ve stopped myself, I-I shouldn’t have kissed—”

“Stop talking,” he commanded, silencing you instantly.

You swallowed hard, clenching your hands by your sides, trying to manage the overwhelming mix of nervousness and fear.

Miguel barely registered what you had said previously; instead, he simply observed you. Throughout the night, he hadn’t been able to see you up close like this, and now you appeared even more ethereal.

Despite his intense desire for you, he wanted to tease you a little, to observe what was going on in that pretty head of yours. It seemed as though you were anticipating punishment.

He’ll go from there…

“What are you sorry for? Explain?” Miguel demanded, his voice stern. He placed his hands on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. Anxiety twisted your stomach, your lips quivering.

"I-I'm sorry for... k-kissing you during the game," you stammered, avoiding eye contact and keeping your gaze fixed on the ground.

Miguel scoffed, his eyes scanning your figure. "Why? You didn't seem sorry when your tongue was down my damn throat," he remarked, causing you to whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

You couldn’t respond because he was right. At that moment, your actions were a blur of uncontrolled desire and impulsiveness. The fog of lust clouded your judgment, making you unrecognizable, even to yourself.

The thought brought silent tears streaming down your cheeks beneath your black mask. Miguel, seemingly unaware of your tears, persisted with his teasing. “I see you don’t have an answer, and I believe I know why, Cariño,” he mused, his gaze scanning your form once more. “You enjoyed our kiss, didn’t you? The feeling of my lips on yours, how I touched you?” His laughter sliced through the air, lifting your chin and freezing when he spotted the tears.

His eyes locked onto you, witnessing the silent tears streaking down your cheeks. “Shit, are you crying?” Miguel asked in disbelief, a pang in his heart at the sight.

You couldn't respond, a suppressed sob slipping past your lips, which you attempted to muffle with a clasped palm.

However, Miguel heard it distinctly.

The impact of the kiss on you seemed far more significant than he'd realized, and his teasing only put more salt in the wound. Now caught in a dilemma, he felt unsure how to resolve it. Comfort and affection were not his forte, leaving him clueless on how to console you.

“Mierda…” he muttered, swiftly removing your black mask and placing it on a nearby table. His gaze returned to yours. “Hey, stop crying,” he said, prompting you to attempt wiping away the tears with your fingertips, careful not to ruin your makeup.

Miguel’s eyes softened at the sight of your puffy eyes and cheeks. Leaning down to meet your eye level, he reassured, “I’m not going to punish you for what happened during that game. It was harmless fun.” Chuckling, attempting to lighten the mood.

You hastily shook your head. “N-No…it wasn’t.” Your trembling lips met Miguel's gaze. “E-Everyone saw me kiss you, a-a-and it was long, a-and very improper,” you shakingly said, trying to explain to Miguel why the kiss you shared wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

However, Miguel wasn’t listening…

His mahogany eyes were fixated on your face in its full splendor. Though he had seen you without your spider-mask on numerous occasions, something about you tonight captivated him. Your eyes glistened in the hallway's lighting, your cheeks adorned with a rosy hue, and your lips retained the crimson shade from the lipstick you probably applied before the party. In that moment, you held an irresistible beauty that entranced him, rendering him unable to avert his gaze.

He gently cupped your face in his large, calloused hand, silencing your rambling. Startled, your widened eyes met his. “M-Miguel…w-what—”

“Shush,” he said with a smirk. “You worry too much, Y/N.” His whispered words and the gentle caress of his thumb against your cheek only deepened the blush on your face. You gulped, your breaths becoming heavier.

“N-No, it’s obvious. O-Our connection,” you admitted, causing your cheeks to flush further, which only widened Miguel’s smirk.

“Our connection, hmm?”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” you quickly interjected before releasing a resigned sigh.

You wished to vanish, feeling like a complete fool. You inadvertently expressed your feelings to your leader, and implied he reciprocated those same sentiments.

Miguel chuckled at your flustered state. “Ahh…I get it now. My gatita has a little crush on me?” He teased, pulling you closer until your faces were just inches apart.

“That explains everything.”

He smirked, his eyes momentarily flickering with a deep red before reverting to their original hue. You wanted to argue, to refute his assumption, but you knew it would be useless.

You had inadvertently set the stage for your own downfall…

“I-I’m sorry. I know it’s improper, but I’ll never act on it,” you briskly stated through trembling lips. “W-when we return to work at the Spider Society, I’ll see you as I’ve always seen you—m-my leader and nothing more.” Thickly gulping, you met Miguel’s mahogany eyes and his small smirk.

He chuckled, stepping closer, his chest pressing against yours. Rising to his full height, he tilted your head to meet his eyes. “No, Y/N. I can't allow that to happen within my establishment,” he said sternly. “I can’t have you working at the Spider Society with an attraction toward me, your leader. It’s fraternization, a conflict of interest.” His dark brown curls swayed as he shook his head.

“And I can’t allow that…”

You had anticipated this outcome. You knew that kiss would lead to trouble, and perhaps you deserved this consequence for your impulsive and imprudent actions. Instead of resisting, you slowly nodded.

“Y-Yes, sir. I-I understand,” you sniffled, the fear of losing everything you've achieved at the society engulfing your thoughts. Trembling, you exhaled and closed your eyes, preparing for the expected words…

But what followed wasn’t what you anticipated…

“But I can make an exception for you, my sexy gatita.”

Your eyes snapped open to meet his sincere gaze. The unexpected words and the term he used took you by surprise.

‘Sexy gatita?!’

You couldn't believe Miguel's words, prompting him to snicker. He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his knuckles gently grazing your cheek. “You've intrigued me tonight, gatita,” he whispered, his eyes slowly tracing your body before meeting your eyes.

“First, it was that sexy costume of yours,” he smirked, placing his hands on your waist. “And then that kiss. Mmm…that kiss,” he moaned, the sexy sound causing your core to throb to life.

You've been all I’ve thought about."

His words stirred a flutter in your heart. You were taken aback, utterly shocked and astounded by his admission.

To imagine that Miguel O’Hara, a man who hardly revealed his emotions or engaged in love or romance, felt this way about you seemed surreal.

“M-Miguel… what are you saying?” you asked, seeking confirmation, hoping this wasn't a dream.

Miguel sensed your mind racing to comprehend his words; truth be told, he was also grappling with his own feelings for you. All he knew was he felt an overpowering desire that surged when he first laid eyes on you across the party, a feeling that needed fulfillment, or he feared he'd go crazy.

Leaning in closely, his lips were just a breath away from yours. His eyes flickered to a crimson hue as they examined every contour of your face.

“I'm saying, I want you, Y/N…

Right here, right now.”

He whispered, his hand finding its way to the small of your back, his touch trailing up your spine, gently skimming the fabric of your leopard costume. A shaky exhale escaped your lips as you looked up, meeting Miguel's gaze.

You'd only ever imagined Miguel returning such feelings. Nights spent awake, envisioning his lips on yours, his touch on your body and igniting your senses in ways no one else could. When he finally confessed his desire, it unleashed your own hidden longing, once meticulously guarded, now laid bare before you.

Your heart raced, tenderly and shakingly reaching up to cradle his face in your gloved palm, admiring the enticing features of his chiseled face.

"I...I want you too, Miguel."

You whispered and Miguel didn't hesitate, emitting a low groan before pressing a fervent kiss to your lips. As your lips met, it ignited a passionate blaze. The kiss grew with intensity, exuding longing and desire. Your mouths fused together in a heated exchange, tongues intertwining in a battle for dominance that left both of you breathless.

You ran your gloved fingers through Miguel’s hair, tugging gently at his dark brown curls and kissing his lips with much fervor. Miguel moaned against your lips, his hands moving all along your body, squeezing your waist, your thighs and rear, before moving up to grope your breasts through your leopard costume. You moaned at his touch, your core throbbing in desperation for him.

Miguel was ravenous, consumed by desire, longing to feel your bare skin under his palms as he continued to kiss and feel you. Panting heavily, he withdrew from your lips.

Breathless, you gazed up at him, noticing his glance towards a lone door in the empty hallway the two of you stood in. Meeting his gaze, you looked up to find him smirking. "Come on, gatita," he said, grabbing your hand and leading you toward the door.

You eagerly followed Miguel, anticipation and desire coursing through you. You followed him to the closed door, beyond which lay a dimly lit room. Your brows furrowed as Miguel didn't hesitate, entering and shutting the door behind you, enveloping the two of you in darkness and intensifying your sense of disorientation. “M-Miguel…I-I can't see," you stammered.

"I can see that," he whispered, his laughter taking your breath away. Your body heated up, your eyes straining to navigate the darkened room in search of Miguel. Anxiously biting your lip, excitement surged within you. "W-Where are we?" you asked, Miguel's deep voice reverberating in the pitch-black space once more.

It looks like a closet, gatita,” he said as he placed his hands on your waist, gently guiding you. Allowing him to lead, you soon felt a firm surface against your back. A gasp escaped you, soon realizing the sudden obstacle was a wall. Attempting to look up for another glimpse of Miguel, you found nothing but a black abyss staring back at you.

You couldn't help but notice that the disorienting darkness didn't seem to affect Miguel. His footsteps echoed with a steady confidence, his voice unwavering.

Recollections of rumors gathered during your month at the Spider Society resurfaced in your mind. Whispers suggested that Miguel was more unique than the normal spider-person.

But no one really knew how different…

Looking upward, hoping your eyes were fixated on Miguel, a nervous gulp escaped you. "Y-You can see, can't you?" Your voice quivered, carrying a blend of nervousness and excitement. The notion that your alluring leader could perceive your every reaction while you remained unable to see his, sent an odd surge of anticipation through you. Miguel let out a soft chuckle, his hands delicately skimmed along your body.

"Yes, I can see, gatita.

Crystal clear, in fact."

Murmuring softly, his touch along your sides felt amplified by the shroud of darkness that enveloped you. His confirmation of sight, even in the dimness, made your heart skip a beat. The knowledge of his enhanced ability sent a thrilling wave of excitement through you.

He peered down at you, his vision more acute than the average spider-hero. He gave your waist a squeeze, his fingers pressing into your flesh through your costume which pulled a soft moan from your lips. "I'm going to make you feel so good, Cariño.” He murmured into the darkness, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Are you ready for me?" he inquired, feeling his unexpectedly soft lips against your cheek, pressing small kisses along your skin. A soft moan escaped you as you nodded in response. "Yes," you replied breathlessly, which brought a smile to Miguel's face, although unseen in the dimly lit room.

“Excelente.”

His lips met yours, eliciting a gasp of surprise. He grinned and, with a gentle hand on your throat, held you in place while hungrily devouring your mouth.

Miguel savored each moment—the softness of your lips meeting his and the way you displayed a hint of submission despite your evident desire for him.

His large hand encircled your neck, the cool touch of his gold rings lightly pressing against your skin. A gentle squeeze on your throat made your eyes flutter, a soft moan escaping your lips as Miguel deepened the kiss, leaving you feeling weak in the knees.

He emitted a soft groan, your tongues intertwined, lost in the exchange of fervent kisses. Your senses were enveloped by his scent, taste, and touch, leaving you feeling slightly dazed.

He took your bottom lip between his fangs, not enough to cause harm, but sufficient to create a tingle in your stomach as he tugged away. Breathless and with a racing pulse, you peered into the darkness with half-lidded eyes, searching for Miguel.

Miguel traced his thumb along your throat, causing a subtle hitch in your breath. "So beautiful, gatita," He murmured, planting kisses along your jaw and cheeks, his hand moving down your body, eventually resting between your legs, and cupping your mound through your leopard bodysuit. You emitted a soft moan, your legs quivering at the touch of his calloused palm against your throbbing bud.

Miguel groaned, reveling in the sounds you released. You gasped, feeling his foot kick your legs apart, allowing him greater access to your heated core. Tracing his ringed fingers along your clothed slit, you couldn't stifle the arousing sounds prompted by his tantalizing touch.

“You are soaking, Cariño. This pretty pussy wants my cock that bad, huh?” He remarked with a chuckle, causing warmth to rush to your face, your cheeks turning noticeably red. You hesitated, nodding, your eyes shifting to the floor. Even though you couldn't see Miguel, you were convinced that his lustful, crimson eyes were fixed on you, taking in every reaction you exhibited.

Miguel noticed how the aroma of your arousal seemed to grow stronger in response to his words. He groaned softly, leaning in near your ear, he gently nipped on your earlobe, causing a hitch in your breath. "Very well, let me prepare you first, Cariño." He whispered. His touch on your sensitive area disappeared, leaving you feeling an unexpected emptiness.

You soon heard the clatter of his rings, suspecting he was removing his jewelry. Excitement stirred in your stomach at the thought of what Miguel might do, your senses tingling and your elation growing, even causing your panties to dampen further.

You felt his presence close to you once more. His heat radiating off his body. You wanted so much to see him, to see his chiseled face, chocolate curls and massive body.

You felt his harden chest press against your supple breasts, his hand falling back into place on your throat. You let out a soft moan as his calloused thumb traced along your jawline. Miguel smirked, his finger delicately moving the fabric that veiled your mound to the side, revealing your heated core.

You gasped, feeling a rush as you were revealed. Miguel moaned softly, running his thick middle finger through your slick folds, your wetness coating his digit.

You whimpered, your breath escaping in gasps through your parted lips. Miguel chuckled, pressing your back against the wall. His hand remained around your throat while his other hand continued to explore your throbbing core.

“Hmm, you want my fingers, gatita?” He seductively asked, his finger sliding between your wet pussy lips, brushing along your clit, but not fulfilling your desire and entering your heated core. You nodded frantically, wanting this torture to end and to finally feel his thick fingers inside of you. "P-Please," you managed to utter between your strangled moans that were being pulled from deep within you.

Miguel's gaze was locked onto you, a sly smirk adorning his tanned lips. His lust-filled crimson eyes devoured every detail, from your flushed cheeks and your shorter stature in comparison to his towering height, to your fluttering eyes and the sweet sounds emanating from your open mouth to fill the intimate space of the closet. The sight was so arousing it made his cock throb to life in his pants and elicit a low, involuntary groan from him.

As your eyes scanned the darkness for him, his smirk deepened. Your unawareness of his location and what his next move might be heightened his excitement. He found your obliviousness endearing.

His desire for you grew with each passing moment...

Without warning, he pressed his finger into your entrance, allowing your needy and dripping walls to suck him in. You emitted a startled gasp, followed by a soft moan, taken aback by the sense of fullness of his thick finger inside of you. “O-Oh gosh!” You cried out, your hands desperately searching for something to hold onto. You were thankful when you found his arm, which still gripped your throat.

You gripped his forearm tightly, eyes rolling at just the sensation of his finger inside of your dripping core.

Miguel felt a sense of urgency, fully aware of the limited time the two of you had before Peter or your friend Gwen sent out a search party.

The two of you had to hurry…

“Hmm…gatita. I want you to ride my fingers. I need you ready for me, bonita.” He practically growled against your ear. You nodded, trying your best to ride back on his digit whilst Miguel’s thick middle finger thrusted into your gummy walls, slowly stretching you out.

Your sentence is already clear and well-constructed. However, if you'd like an alternative phrasing, you could say:

You couldn't contain the numerous whimpers and loud moans that broke free from your lips as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. Miguel groaned at your tightness, slowly slipping in a second finger, eliciting a strained cry to burst from your throat.

You were panting, moaning and squirming against his fingers, feeling his digits thrust up into your pussy, right down to the knuckle where he curled them, touching your g-spot before returning back to the start to repeat his motion. His movements were harsh and relentless, your nails digging into his sleeve as all you could do was whimper and mewl uncontrollably, the sound of his palm smacking against your swollen clit with each shove of his two fingers echoing and engulfing the quietude of the closet.

This was already too much…

His fingers so thick and long, pounded into you with no mercy, reaching deeply and touching that sweet spot over and over again. Your mind was complete mush, Miguel’s digits stretching your tight walls with each thrust, slowly preparing you for his dick. Even in your fucked-out state, you couldn’t help wonder how big Miguel truly was.

“Mmm, M-Miguel, I-I can’t-” You whimpered, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Miguel hummed, shifting his hand from your throat to your thigh, raising your leg onto his hip for better access to your dripping cunt. “Yes, you can Cariño. You can take another.”

You bit your lip harshly, a mix of excitement and slight nervousness at his response, yet hesitant to refuse him. The numerous dreams and fantasies you had of Miguel were finally materializing, becoming a tangible reality before your eyes. Deep down, despite your apprehension, you didn't want this to end; you didn't want him to stop, especially with how good and perfect his fingers felt deep inside you.

So with a thick gulp, you gripped his biceps through his black blazer, clenching the fabric tightly and nestling your face into his neck, readying yourself for whatever Miguel had in store for you in this confined space.

Miguel looked down at you, hearing the soft whimpers slipping through your parted lips, and feeling your shaky breaths against his neck. He chuckled, his canines showing slightly. He delicately lifted your chin with his fingers, tilting it upward to meet his lips.

Your trembling breath intertwined with his as he kissed you with depth and passion, enough to overwhelm your senses. Amidst the searing kiss, he wriggled a third finger inside, taking its place beside his other two prompting you to moan loudly.

Miguel cursed against your lips, your tightness evident around his digits as he slowly eased his three fingers into you, feeling your walls tremble and squelch noisily. Your stomach buzzed with pleasure and your legs trembled, threatening to give way beneath you whilst he worked his fingers inside of you.

Miguel kissed you hungrily, sucking, licking, and nipping your lips until they were moist and puffy. Your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, your juices coating his digits and staining the sleeve of his blazer with each smack of his palm against your sensitive bud, but he didn’t give a damn. Your sweet moans, gorgeous body grinding desperately back onto his fingers, and plush lips against his own was so intoxicating.

Overwhelmed, you pulled away from his lips, eyes rolling, and uncontrollably whimpering at the feeling of his three fingers moving inside of your pussy, stretching you to the extreme. “Last one baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, his words so comforting, even amidst the overwhelming pleasure.

You bit your lip, feeling him ease his last finger inside of your dripping hole. You clung to him tightly, a high-pitched, deafening scream passing your lips at the sweet intrusion. Miguel hastily placed a hand over your mouth, slowly inserting his fingers into you, down to his knuckles. “Shush bebe, we wouldn’t want someone to hear, now do we?” Miguel whispered against your ear before pressing a kiss upon it. His words were barely audible, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, while your eyes rolled and cries escaped from deep within your throat, muffled by Miguel's hand covering your mouth.

He smirked, admiring your stunning appearance, even in your fucked-out state. How your eyes were half-lidded and continuously rolled, how beautiful you looked with his hand covering your mouth, the vibrations of your moans bouncing off of his hand, but what really aroused Miguel the most was how much of a good girl you were. Your body continued to grind sloppily back onto his four fingers despite your lack of stability and strength to do so. The sight went straight to his cock. He hissed his massive length prodding against the fabric of his black dress pants, painfully hard and desparate for attention.

You whimpered behind his palm, eyes closed as your body felt like it was being struck by lightning. Each shove of his fingers inside of you, jolting your body full of pleasure and spreading the delicious sensations as tingles throughout your entire being.

It was so delightful; you wished it would never end…

Miguel looked down between the two of you, watching his massive, four digits disappear inside of you with each thrust, and how drenched his fingers were when they reappeared once again. He bit his lip harshly at the sight, his movements becoming increasingly erratic with each shove.

“So good gatita. Taking my fingers so well.” He praised, his cock straining and pressing against the restrictive fabric of his black slacks, begging to be released. He growled, hearing you whimper around his palm. He moved his hand, grasping you throat once more, his fingers continuing to thrust into your dripping core.

You were close,

very close.

Your eyes rolled once more, soft, inaudible moans escaped your lips, while an intense burning sensation began to build up in the pit of your stomach, intensifying and becoming unbearable.

Miguel chuckled, feeling your walls squeeze around his fingers, signaling your rising climax. “My gatita, gonna cum for me? Going to make a mess on my fingers?” He teased, holding your leg up on his thigh, and adjusting his position in the darkness.

Suddenly, his four fingers increased in speed, slamming intensely into you, and curling into your g-spot everytime with each stupefying motion.

You gritted your teeth, a trickle of saliva escaping the corners of your mouth and trailing down your chin as Miguel shifted his hand from your mouth to cradle your face, his fingers gently pressing against your jaw. You panted heavily, fingers tightly clutching his sleeve, your body trembling and pussy horribly fluttering around his pumping fingers.

Miguel turned your face to look at him in the darkness. “Say my name, gatita. Let me hear it as you cum on my fingers.” He commanded in a husky voice. You choked back a moan, biting your lip harshly trying to unjumble your scrambled brain. When you finally found your voice, Miguel’s fingers burrowed deep into you, touching a spot inside that made you see stars within the confines of the dark closet. Your orgasm rushing and crashinginto you like an unexpected tidal wave.

“M-Miguel! I-I’m cumming, ‘m cumming. Crapcrapcrap!” You choked out before the long-awaited release of your pent-up pleasure came spurting from your cunt, soaking Miguel’s hand and coating your thighs. You body spasmed uncontrollably, twitching in Miguel’s arms whilst he finger-fucked you through your climax. Your eyelids fluttered, tears spilling down your face at the sheer intensity.

“There we go, gatita. Very good, very good.” He cooed, slipping his drenched fingers out, your body trembling a little at the lack of fullness.

He held your chin in his hand, his crimson gaze scanning you while his other hand tenderly caressed your thighs. "You okay?" His voice, filled with concern, resonated in the dimly lit room. His question made your heart flutter, intensifying your frustration at not being able to see him.

You nodded, breathing heavily, and finally releasing the tight grip you had on Miguel's forearm. "Y-Yes..." Miguel smiled, planting a kiss on your cheek, which caught you by surprise and made you jump slightly in the darkness of the room.

"Good, gatita, because I'm ready for you, bebe.” He whispered against your skin, the words going straight to your puffy core and reawakening your lust. Miguel instantly smelled your potent desire, making him smirk.

You felt Miguel’s breath against your throat and soon his lips, softly sucking at your sensitive spot as you heard the delightful sound of his belt and zipper coming undone. You moaned softly at his suckles, feeling his fangs along your neck, leaving behind his love bites. Miguel hummed, suddenly feeling his large hand take yours, guiding it towards him. Your eyes widened when you felt his hardened length brush your knuckles, eliciting a hiss from Miguel.

He opened your hand so you could grab his cock. You complied, taking his dick in your palm and you were even more amazed and how thick he was, your fingers unable to close into a fist due his enormity. Miguel let out a soft groan at your touch, unable to stop himself as he began to thrust into your clenched fist, moaning at his efforts. “Bebe, you feel that?” He hissed, placing his hands on the wall on either side of your head to steady himself whilst continuing his slow pace into your palm.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Y-yes.” You uttered, feeling his massive length slide in and out of your palm. His length was absolutely astonishing, completely hardened and erect. His coarse hairs tickling your hand with each thrust which only made your pussy quiver even more in want of his cock to feel you up. “Hmm. You feel what you-fuck-do to me Cariño?” He heaved, kissing along your neck, small gasps of air passing his lips while you moaned helplessly.

Miguel groaned, moving back and using his large hand to grasp your neck, guiding your face to meet his gaze. Your eyes fluttered at his touch while Miguel's half-hooded crimson eyes met yours, his cock twitching in your palm at the sight of your flushed face. “I’ve been waiting for this all damn night.” He panted, squeezing your neck slightly causing you to shudder.

Miguel's words took you by surprise, yet they only amplified your desire for him. You hadn't realized you could have such an impact on someone, especially on him, but here he was, fucking your fist and spilling his guts to you in the darkness of a closet.

You bit your lip, squeezing his cock in your palm, causing him to let out a deep and alluring groan. “Mierda…Keep doing that and I’m going to cum.” He chuckled breathlessly. “And we don’t want that. Not just yet, gatita.” He hissed, pulling his cock from your hand.

Your eyes darted around in the darkness, desperately seeking him, but instead, you felt him move you, pressing your chest against the wall and positioning your backside towards him. Standing on unsteady legs, a blend of anxiousness and nervousness enveloped you. You bit your lip, your cheek pressed against the wall, further overwhelmed by the absence of sight, your fingers tensing against the firm surface.

You waited for what felt like an eternity, the anticipation becoming unbearable as your juices spilled down your legs.

You wanted so much to feel Miguel, his touch, presence, lips, cock… Anything!

Your body felt so cold and empty without him…

You awaited with bated breath for Miguel when suddenly something warm and hard began to move against the curve of your ass. Your eyes fluttered, the sensation so delightful, seemingly heightened by your diminished sight. Your juices continued to coat your thighs, dripping down your shaky legs the more he touched and teased you. Miguel snickered, gripping your hips in his large hands. “My pretty gatita, you smell so delicious bebe.” He whispered, kissing your bare shoulders. “I can smell your arousal, how much you want my cock to stuff that pretty pussy of yours.” He grinned. You moaned even more at how accurate he was.

“P-Please.” You begged in response, grinding back on his length. Miguel moaned, widening your cheeks and pushing your leopard bodysuit and panties to the side once more, revealing your slick folds. He inhaled the air deeply. “Fuck, you are exquisite, Cariño.” He purred, trailing his fingertips along your back, causing a shiver to run through you. You felt him brush his cockhead along your pussy lips making you whimper. “You tell me if it’s too much. Got it bebe.” He whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You nodded, biting your lip. “O-okay.”

Slowly, you felt his massive head begin to enter your throbbing core. Your legs shook horribly, fingers gripping the wall as muffled moans escaped your throat. Miguel grunted under his breath, continuing his insertion. You were thankful for the preparation Miguel had provided earlier because he was huge. You felt your gummy walls stretch to the extreme to accommodate his enormity, a loud, strangled moan escaped your lips when his hips smacked against your rear.

Miguel groaned, pressing his chest to your backside and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Talk to me, how do you feel, bebe?” He asked, kissing your cheek and allowing your walls to adjust. You were breathless, shakingly panting. The pleasure was so intensely good that it was mind-numbing.

You could barely understand what Miguel asked you over the pounding of your heart and the blood buzzing in my ears. “Goodgood, s-so good.” Miguel smirked, tightening his hold on your waist beginning to slowly thrust into you. Your mouth was agape, eyes continuously rolling, Miguel’s hips moving in a rhythmic motion inside of you.

“M-more. Please give me more.” You slurred, gripping the wall as Miguel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your ear. “You want more, Cariño? You sure you know what you are asking?” He inquired with a snicker that went straight to your dripping cunt. You frantically nodded, desparate to feel more of Miguel, repeatedly begging and pleading in slurred speech.

Miguel felt somewhat concerned by your request. He was accustomed to fucking intensely and vigorously, often leaving women sore and sometimes unable to walk afterward.

But you were different…

He didn't give a damn about those women; they were all just a good time. But you were special…

You were precious to him, a hidden gem he had discovered in a vast mine, a jewel that gleamed brightly amongst a sea of ordinary stones.

He didn't want to harm you. He was used to breaking things, unintentionally or not to others, and he didn't want to include you on that list. He was used to breaking things, whether intentionally or not, and he didn't want to include you on that list. Despite his concerns, he couldn't refuse you, especially with the many cries spilling from your mouth, begging him to fuck you hard, to ruin you.

So he clenched his jaw, gritted his fangs, his eyes reddened as he pressed his fingers into your hips.

“You asked for it.”

He growled his tender thrusts instantaneously becoming brutal and frantic. It was so intense that you felt as if you couldn't breathe, your moans continously getting caught in your throat with each striking smack of his hips against your rear.

Miguel's fingers gripped your hips so tightly that you were certain it would bruise later, his groans and deep growls evident against your ear whilst his deep and merciless pounding never ceased. “This what you wanted, Cariño?” He huffed, his cock burrowing deep inside of your gummy walls and prodding your cervix each time.

You couldn't respond, only moaning uncontrollably, your body roughly banging against the wall. All you could do was hope that the hallway was still empty because you couldn't control the loud cries of pleasure that were being pulled from your very being with each thrust.

“Ay Cono.” Miguel panted, wrapping a hand around the artificial tail of your costume and tugging you back, meeting him with each thrust. Your eyes rolled into your head at the added simulation. Your tongue pooling over your lips whilst he continued to fuck you relentless, dirty talking into your ear which only pushed you closer and closer to your climax.

“Hmm, if only you’ve asked me-fuck-sooner Cariño. I would have already claimed this pussy.” He grunted, runting his cock into you. “Have everyone know this pussy is mine.” He growled, continuing his abuse on your puffy pussy.

Everything was too much, as you soon came undone. Your eyes rolled, back arching, while your muscles tensed and your gut tightened. All erotic cries became stuck in your throat. Your body shook uncontrollably, climaxing into the darkened room in juicy spurts, dripping loudly onto the floor beneath you.

Miguel cursed, your walls squeezing him tightly as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “Yes bebe. Just like that, mmm. Cum for me.” He growled, nipping and sucking on your lobe whilst you released on his cock.

Miguel hummed in satisfaction, feeling your body tremble under his palms, and fall limp against the wall. The only support keeping you upright was his presence and the firm surface in front of you.

“Very good Cariño, but I’m not done with you just yet-”

Abruptly, a female, robotic voice echoed throughout the confined closet, causing Miguel’s hips to instantly come to a halt inside of you. Both yours and Miguel’s eyebrows rising in astonishment and surprise.

“One incoming message from Peter. B. Parker.”

“Shit.” Miguel spat, pulling out and rolling up his sleeve. The closet filled with a white glow emanating from his multiverse watch as a voice message from Peter began to play. "What's up, buddy? Where are you? The game started like... ten minutes ago. Get your ass back up here."

You nervously bit your lip, attempting to catch your breath and retain most of what you had just heard from the message. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Miguel's chiseled, tanned face illuminated by his watch. It felt like an eternity since you last saw him, and he looked absolutely stunning, even in the small light emitting from his watch.

He growled , covering his watch with his sleeve and shifting his focus back to you, planting kisses on your shoulders whilst grinding his hardened length along the curve of your ass. Your breath hitched at the unexpected action, the return of the intense darkness more disorienting than before. “W-we must head back, Miguel. T-They’ll come looking for us.”

“Let them look.”

He replied hoarsely, continuing to kiss your shoulders and grind his cock against your ass. “I’m not done with you, Cariño.” He spat, turning you to face him. Your stomach fluttered once again in anticipation.

An unexpected gasp slipped from your lips as he effortlessly turned you around to face him, and lifted your body off the ground like you weighed nothing at all. You hastily wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching tightly, while your legs found their place over his forearms, and Miguel's hands resting against the wall behind you.

He kissed your lips, breathing heavily. “I’ll be a damn idiot to leave you right now.” He uttered, rubbing his cock along your slick folds. “Hmm, leave you without even stuffing you full of my cum, without truly claiming you.” You moaned softly as his tip repeatedly brushed against your clit. His words causing your heightened arousal to intensify, your arousal dripping down onto the floor beneath you while he continues speaking, his words alone enough to make you cum all over again.

“I’ll be a damn fool, won’t I, hermosa?”

He growled, with one quick thrust, he rammed his cock back into your eager core, your pussy instantly sucking him in. A loud cry spilled from your mouths, his length entering further into you.

Miguel rutted upwards into your rear, his forehead resting on your own, yet you still couldn’t make out his facial features despite the close proximity. “M-Miguel…y-you are so deep. You panted and whined, your fingers gripping the nape of his neck while your legs draped over his strong forearms. He growled, his fingers flexing on either side of your head as his palms pressed against the wall. “Oh fuck-.” He moaned, his warm, heavy breath brushing against your skin. ”You feel so fucking good.” He huffed, snapping his hips and burrowing his cock deeper inside of you.

Your toes curled within your boots, wriggling in his arms as the intense sensations gripped you, yet Miguel kept you steady. You could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his furrowed brow, accompanied by his heavy breaths, low groans, and a blend of English and Spanish curses against your face and his coarse hair over the base of his shaft, rubbing against your clit with each thrust. Loud moans and whimpers escaped your lips,

When sudden knock echoed at the closet door…

Panicked, you swiftly covered your mouth, causing Miguel to freeze in his movements.

“Y/N!? Are you in there? Everything alright?”

Your eyes widened as you immediately recognized your friend, Gwen's voice coming from the other side of the door.

You trembled in Miguel’s hold, whilst he began to resume his slow grind into you. You moaned softly into your palm, eyes rolling as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hmm…they just want to ruin our fun, don’t they bebe?” He chuckled breathlessly when we heard Gwen knock once more.

You moaned softly into your palm, eyes rolling as he placed a tender kiss on your temple. "Seems like they're determined to spoil our fun, huh, bebe?" He chuckled breathlessly, the sound of another knock from Gwen at the closet door echoing within the confined space once more.

“Y/N? I found your mask out here? You aren’t seriously hiding out in there are you?”

Anxious and fearful, your lips trembled at the thought of getting caught with Miguel, wanting intensely for Gwen to leave already.

Miguel groaned in annoyance. He tried to downplay how much the interruption was bothering him out of politeness toward you about your friend, but he wished the 'blondie' would just fuck off already.

A few minutes went by with Miguel’s tiny thrusts inside of you, enough to keep the desires between the two of you satiated, but not what the two of you truly wanted. Miguel waited, his heightened senses straining to detect fading footsteps, a distancing heartbeat, and any sign of departing breath on the other side of the door, yet he heard no such thing.

Gwen was still there…

Miguel snarled, his fangs bared. He was consumed by desire, not giving a damn about anything else. He wanted you so badly, wishing to quicken the pace, and take you until both of you were exhausted and satisfied. His judgment clouded by overwhelming lust."

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore, gatita.” He growled, resuming his erratic thrusts that made your nerves feel like they were on fire, your body shudder, and loud cries to be pulled from the depths of your chest. The sudden bursts of pleasure only pushing you closer to your peak. Miguel hissed, moving his hands under your rear to press your backside to the wall.

He bounced your body onto his dick meeting his thrusts. You choked back sobs from the assault on your sensitive area. Tears pulled at the edges of your eyes at the intensity and how hard it was to hold back your moans. It felt like your abdomen was on fire, your muscles tightening again as your climax was near once more.

Miguel’s enhanced hearing could still hear Gwen’s presence at the door, but he didn’t give a damn. Your clenching walls were drawing him to his peak as well. His abs flexing under his scarlet button-up, his hips stuttering and jerking.

“Cum with bebe.” He panted, wrapping his arms around your backside, hugging you tightly whilst continuing his thrusts upward into you. Your arms encircled his neck, worried whispers escaping from your lips. "W-What if someone overhears? What if Gwen hears?" You whimpered, burying your face in his neck.

“Don’t worry a-about them,” He hissed, increasing his pace and pounding himself deeper into you. “Focus on me. On this.” He breathlessly panted, pressing his lips against yours in the pit-blackness of the closet. He kissed you passionately, his thrusts becoming sloppy, smacking your g-spot over and over again.

You choked on a strangled moan, your muscles tensing up. You sobbed at the intensity, body shaking uncontrollably as you released once again. Stars flooded your vision whilst you orgasmed harshly, spurting your juices and coating your thighs and Miguel’s dick with your sweet nectar.

“F-Fuck!” Miguel groaned loudly, your gummy walls squeezing him wonderfully and pushing him over the edge. He pulled away from your lips, gritting his teeth, and burrowing himself deep inside of you, filling you full of his load. His hips sputtered and his abs tightened, a wave of tingles and heat rushing through his entire being and overwhelming him with utter bliss. You whimpered, his warm essence flooding your inners and stuffing you just right.

He rested his forehead against yours, the dim room filled with the sound of your heavy breaths. He soon realized the absence by the door, uncertain of when Gwen had left, but it didn't matter to him. He was utterly captivated by you, amazed beyond words. "You did so well, gatita," he murmured, gently kissing your lips. Slowly, he lowered your body back to the floor, his hands supporting your waist as your legs felt a bit unsteady.

Miguel helped you both clean up in the dark, using some towels he had found in the closet. After you were both dressed, the reality of the situation finally sank in.

Once you both leave this room, you’ll return to the roles of a mere Spider-Woman in society and Miguel, your respected leader. The two of you would head upstairs to that dreadful game of Spin the Bottle, engaging in teasing and potentially steamy activities with each other or possibly others—something neither of you desired.

"I-I suppose it's time we head back," you murmured forlornly, hugging your body. Miguel clicked his tongue at your words, the mere thought of anyone else touching you during that game already stirring anger within him. "No... I have a better idea."

You felt his hands on your waist, looking up at him with furrowed brows. "W-What do you mean?" Miguel smirked, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Let's leave this party.

Come home with me."

Your eyes widened in astonishment. Miguel was equally surprised that he had extended the invitation, but he couldn't bear to let you go.

Not tonight...

You knew Gwen would likely be concerned about your whereabouts and that Miguel and your absence from the game would surely raise questions., nonetheless, you found yourself nodding.

"O-Okay... but let's keep this a little secret," you told him with a small smile. He grinned, encircling his arms around your waist. "Of course, gatita. Our little act will remain hidden within the walls of this closet and within the confines of my home.

You have my word."

You smiled, gently planting a kiss on his lips before pulling away from the shared embrace. "Thank you, Miguel," you whispered, noticing Miguel's fingers already tapping away at his watch, a blinding orange and red portal materialized before both of you, illuminating the closet and revealing him in full view. "You're welcome, my sexy gatita," he replied.

He encircled an arm around your waist, guiding you as both of you stepped into the portal. The vibrant orange-red whirlpool closed behind you, leaving behind the raucous party, the horrid Spin The Bottle game, and your roles as leader and mere spider-woman.

You both felt a profound longing, yearning to end this Halloween night in the way you both truly desired – entwined in each other's arms, delving into the hidden depths of your secret relationship, and venturing through a night filled with pure bliss.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed my Halloween special! I tried to deliver it to you as swiftly as possible. Thank you all for the support and love; I'm continually surprised and grateful for it. Love you all!! ❤👻👻💙

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #the blue panther #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 2 years ago

Note

i had forgotten about bleeding butterflies part 14!!!! omw to read it right now.

but girl… i was thinking about a drabble 👀 for the ceo fic, namjoon or someone eating y/n out in the kitchen before they leave to an important meeting

DON'T FORGET TO TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF IT! I'm a needy writer atm.

So you wanted a drabble and I ended up writing a mini chapter 🤦🏽‍♀️ although I tweaked it a little, I hope you don't mind.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, oral (female receiving), maknaes causing their usual shit.

Namjoon’s head hangs low, his back hunched as he looks at his hands sadly.

“Did someone die?” You ask the room, half seriously half trying to lighten the mood.

The other CEOs look away from you, trying to hide their expressions from the lead CEO but inadvertently from you too.

“Babe what’s wrong?” You ask Namjoon, dropping your things at the door and kneeling beside him so you could see his solemn expression. Worry drummed through your veins as you take it in, you can’t breathe.

“The copying machine died,” he says completely heart broken

You inhale deeply in shock… what? The copying machine you wanted to throw down the stairs on your first day working with them? Finally, it died? Hallelujah! You glance at the other CEOs, finally noticing the amusement in their eyes that they were hiding so as not to offend Namjoon.

Soon you find yourself struggling to hide the same expression, bowing your head to the floor in an attempt to conceal it. You felt terrible for him, you did, he had some sort of weird affection for the bane of everyone’s existence at the company, but honestly you were slightly tempted to work for them again now you knew it was dead.

“Should we hold a funeral?” Taehyung mutters under his breath to Jimin, audible enough for you all to hear along with the shorter CEO’s snicker.

Jin gives them a half hearted glare of warning, expecting them to be considerate when Namjoon looked like his whole world came crashing down.

“It may not mean anything to anyone else,” he sighs. “But it was the first thing I bought for that company.”

“Aww Joonie,” you rub his knee in comfort, pouting up at him with all the sympathy you could muster. It was cute, the way your ex boss and now boyfriend who could command a room with a breath looked so distraught over something so trivial.

“It’s the sentimental value,” he further explains as if trying to justify his sadness, eyes imploring for you to understand him when the others were ridiculing him.

“I know Joonbug,” you rise from your crouching position, arms around his neck as you embrace your soft hearted boyfriend as you sit beside him.

“You know Kitten, I was really sad about it too,” Yoongi says emphatically, drowning his tone in pity. You look at him amused, arms still encircled around Namjoon who decides to bury his head in your neck, shaking your head at his attempts to gain your attention.

“I bet,” you say, knowing exactly what he was up to.

“I was really sad about it too,” Jimin tries to play the same game.

“You just laughed at Hyung’s pain,” Jungkook calls him out, earning an elbow to his side for the comment.

“Did you have a good day at work, Sunshine?” Hobi asks as Jin sighs at the youngest three, now bickering amongst themselves.

“Mmmm,” you say before yawning, tiredness setting into your bones as you play with Namjoon’s hair. “Had a lot of stuff to catch up with.”

Your eyes narrow at the troublesome trio, it was your first day back at work from the holiday and your managers were not sympathetic to your sick leave at all. All three of them grin back at you with no remorse, slight guilt of course, but no regrets whatsoever.

“Why is it when you three play your games the rest of us have to deal with the aftermath?” Yoongi grumbles in thought, hating that you were probably overworked today.

“As if you don’t play any games yourself hyung,” Jimin retorts, personally offended, glaring at him.

“Games, I might point out, we’ve kept secret for you,” Taehyung’s deep timbre is uncharacteristically serious, annoyance spiking at the accusation. “Despite the fact you rat us out at every opportunity.”

Yoongi looks sheepishly away, unable to defend himself as the others look between the squabbling sides.

“What secret?” Namjoon suddenly straightens, his interest piqued while both Yoongi and yourself give the 95 line warning glances.

“Should we all have dinner?” You suddenly suggest while your palms start to sweat. “I’m starving.”

Namjoon looks at you suspiciously while Jin and Hoseok try not to burst out laughing at the unintended innuendo relating to the inside secret the rest of them barring the lead CEO were privy to. You, on the other hand, were trying to act innocent as if your life depended on it. You try to stand but a firm hold on your wrist pulls you back to the sofa.

“What don’t I know?” Namjoon asks, creases appearing above his brows as he frowns.

“You guys are dead,” Yoongi mutters seethingly to the duo who look all too proud of themselves, standing with their arms crossed as they watch the aftermath of their revelation pan out.

Seokjin sighs at the childishness of it all, although he has to admit it is entertaining watching you and Yoongi squirm.

“Do you remember how we made the rule not to rush anything with Sunshine?” Hoseok says with a toothy grin, earning himself a look of betrayal from his closest friend.

“And the rule about not messing about at work?” Jin adds, “Well when beautiful was working with us anyway.”

“You mean the rule to be professional that baby girl set herself?” Namjoon’s one eyebrow shoots through the roof as he stares a hole into the side of your face, you however have your eyes to the ceiling trying to find that lost eye brow of his. Maybe it left the room, you should go look for it…

“That exact one, yes,” the oldest confirms with a smirk.

Was it suddenly getting hot in here? Someone should open a window, you would but there was a serious CEO currently attached to your wrist like a handcuff.

“What did you both do?” Namjoon asks when neither you or Yoongi elaborate voluntarily.

“What you always wanted to do,” Jin sympathetically pats Namjoon’s shoulder while the rest of them lose it with laughter.

“Do you remember the day you went into Yoongi hyung’s office looking for Sunshine but she wasn’t there?” Hoseok looks too pleased with himself as Namjoon nods after a moment of recollection. “She was there…”

Your ears are on fire, how do you always find yourself in this position? Why was it always you!

The man beside you is all too quiet for a moment, and you can feel your throat start to seize at his silence.

“Where exactly was she?” his voice is gruff, already knowing the answer but asking for confirmation anyway.

“Under hyung’s desk,” Jimin states bluntly, looking at Yoongi as if he won the war between them. “But what were you doing there angel?”

You curse him loudly in your head, if looks could kill he’d be dead by both yours and Yoongi’s eyes.

“Not being a good girl that's for sure,” Taehyung says smiling before the duo start laughing so hard Jimin almost falls to the floor.

“That’s enough,” Jungkook takes pity on you both, albeit the secret was something he had been a little jealous over for a while. They all put it out of their minds, otherwise it would cause an insecurity in them.

Yoongi was the only one you broke the rule for, it was a bit hard for them to accept and digest without falling into a rabbit hole.

“And I was the only one who didn’t know?” Namjoon says quietly, making that guilty feeling suddenly fill you to the brim. This was great, first his printer dies and now he finds out he was betrayed by the love of his life and his best friend. All this just after your recent betrayal with the maknaes.

“Joonie it wasn’t on purpose,” you whine slightly, voice small as you finally look at him.

“Nothing’s on purpose with you,” he mutters, that was always the excuse when one of them dragged you into something.

“Joon, that's not fair,” Hobi remarks, knowing he was only lashing out because he was hurt. “You know how irresistible we are to sunshine.”

He winks at you, hoping to lighten the atmosphere now that the consequences of their pandoras box was coming to fruit.

—

He’s not dressed for work yet when he goes down to the kitchen for a morning coffee, halting at the door when he sees you already there and dressed to leave early. His gaze hardens, sleep leaving him completely as he takes you in.

He strides towards you, power in every step, making your figure press against the kitchen counter at his demeanour. After yesterday's altercation he hid himself in his room and locked the door to clear his thoughts, but he couldn’t, they were plagued by the thought that Min Yoongi got to touch you first, have you first when he thought he was the first one. It was stupid and he knew it but it still caused that vein in his temple to pulse threateningly.

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask, looking at him timidly as he stood in front of you breaking him out of his tumultuous thoughts.

He shook his head, eyes penetrating yours with such intensity you were struggling not to squirm. No, if he was honest he wasn’t angry at you at all, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want payback.

“No baby girl,” his voice is gruff, a dangerous smirk playing on his face, “I’m hungry.”

You swallow at the sound of his sexy timbre that never failed to make your knees weak.

“Oh, umm,” you forget how to breathe, trying to remember as you find your words again. “I could make you some pancakes, or there’s cereal?”

He chuckles under his breath, the aura around him not dampening at all.

“We’re both going to be late for work today,” he states as matter of fact, the decision already made, looking at you amused before he kneels in front of you, not breaking his stare for a second. Your jaw drops at the sight of him, your body reacting to his position while your brain lags behind.

That dimple of his was going to be the death of you.

He pulls the waistband of your work trousers down, kissing the skin just above your hip as he does leaving your panties in place. He’s pleasantly surprised you don’t put up a fight when he removes the trousers completely.

“Any important meetings today?” he asks, his voice low you almost fail to catch it with the way your blood is pumping in your ears at the anticipation of where his lips were going to fall next. To your dismay it's just an inch above where you need him, so close but too far away for you to handle. You shake your head desperately in answer, fuck meetings, who the hell cared when Kim Namjoon was kneeling in front of you like you were something to worship.

He chuckles again, causing you to whine, fidgeting as you feel your underwear dampen. He finally breaks eye contact with you, looking directly at your heat and that cute little wet patch forming.

“That’s good,” is all he says before the next kiss is placed right where you need him. You’d be embarrassed by how you brace yourself against the counter behind you if the build up didn’t feel so damn good. His hands stroke the sides of your thighs, knowing you were going to struggle to hold yourself up once he started.

He grins before diving in, sucking you through the fabric, his tongue licking you like he was making out with your lips.

“Joonie,” you call for him deliciously, whining in complaint at the remaining barrier between you both. It's all too much and nowhere near enough, and yet this dulled sensation made your legs wobble, you were only just managing to hold yourself up with your arms locked on the counter tops. You want to grab his hair, you want to pull the damn underwear off yourself but you know if you move you’ll fall.

It’s like he can hear your thoughts, or he’s taking pity on you, you don’t know or care. He hoists one leg up onto his broad shoulder, the other hand shifting the fabric to the side as his tongue touches you freely. Your head falls back, eyes shut at the sensation as a moan slips from your open lips, your hips thrusting into him as if you were trying to ride his face.

Namjoon could feel you throb against his mouth, groaning against you at your taste, grinning when he heard you whimper at the sensation. All those fucking rules, for what? When he could’ve had this earlier? He would never forgive himself, or you. He pulls you impossibly closer at the thought, eyes closed in focus as he makes out with your pussy harder, as if he was punishing you for keeping this away from him for so long.

You can barely hold yourself up, on the brink of crying with how good he was making you feel, you can’t reign in your voice, always more pent up and sensitive in the mornings, your high within reach so quickly, he can tell.

“Close baby girl?” he says condescendingly without breaking contact from your mound, if he could he’d stay here all day, he wouldn’t move an inch from this position of heaven he was in.

“Joo-nm p-plea-se don’t stop,” you begged unashamed, gyrating your hips faster against him as if it would get you there quicker before he could take it all away. You knew him, if he really wanted to punish you he would stop you on the edge and you couldn’t let him, you had to cum, your body was screaming for release. The second he pauses you cry out in protest, he pins you in place with his stare, holding your hips from forcing him back on you.

“As if you wouldn’t run upstairs and ask Yoongi hyung to finish you off,” he scoffs, challenging you to prove him wrong, prove to him that he was just as important, just as good at getting you off. He almost gives in to you at the sight of those tears escaping the corners of your eyes, the groan from your lips as the high you were chasing fades against your wishes. You had to grasp it back, it was so close.

“Daddy please,” you almost sob in desperation, making all his thoughts go blank at the word. His dick throbbed at the sound, reminding him of the situation in his pants that he was trying hard to ignore for the semblance of control. Gone, out the fucking window, just with one word, the hold you had over him scared him out of his wits. He doesn’t even realise he’s given in until you moan out for him again, lapping at your folds like a starved man, trying to get you there whether you deserved it or not.

“Ah please, Jooni-” You cry out unbashful, words turning more incoherent the closer you got, almost tasting it. “So good, so close.”

He hums against you as if giving you permission to let go, and you didn’t it was what you were waiting for, tensing as you drown him in your release, his tongue working you as you come down. The slow stroke of his hands on your skin reminds you to breathe, not realising you held it for so long at how hard your orgasm hit you. You pant, trying to force air into your lungs as your brain goes fuzzy.

He didn’t want to stop, his lips still attached to you although softer than before, the overstimulation so early in the morning was overwhelming, but you couldn’t push him away, not when you were still holding yourself up like your life depended on it.

“Joon we’re already going to be late,” you huff out as if you were annoyed. “Can you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles at that, finally detaching from you to grin up at you. He was covered in you, and the sight was all it took for you to lose your senses and lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on him, making a mess but not caring at all.

“Fuck me please,” you say inbetween kisses.

He’s about to give in, about to speak when you’re both interrupted.

“Not in the kitchen!” Seokjin’s voice yells as he passes by, leaving for the office, the others also on their way out.

You both look at each other, laughing quietly at being reprimanded. He stands up from being on his knees for so long, no ache visible on his face as his dimples stand out at you. He leans in, arms encasing you where you stood, pressing himself against you so you feel how hard he is. The length of him makes you salivate, all previous humour at the situation gone as you look up at him in hunger.

His lips encompass yours, no move to leave the room at Jin’s request. He was going to kill you both, but Namjoon was embracing his new philosophy as he rutted against you, tongue shoving though your parted lips like a preview of how he was going to fuck you. He had a new lease on life, fuck the rules.

#ceo au ask #bb ask #okay I officially suck at writing smut and I’m just gonna accept it #but it’s a drabble so I’m not gonna think too deeply about it #ceo au drabble #ask me things #bts ceo au #bts au #bts x reader #bts smut #bts ot7 x reader #bts ceo!au #bts drabble #Namjoon smut #bts poly!au #bts polyamory #bts poly #poly bts

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