#no i will not shut up about this au ❤ many thoughts head full

[beomcoups]

The Athlete

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: footballer!Hoshi x journalist!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞:  fluff, slight angst, smut, sports au, strangers to lovers au, slow burn-ish

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, throat grabbing, slight choking,  oral (m and f receiving), (semi-rough face fucking) fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, missionary, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, mentions of parental death, bit of a tear jerker

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.2k

��𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are assigned to do an interview with Kwon Soonyoung, the trailblazing athlete everyone calls Hoshi. But as you spend more time with him, you start to see there are more layers to him than football. 

𝐀𝐍: A massive thank you to @wordycerty for reading this for me and reassuring me about this. This is the longest fic I have written. Also thank you to @playmetheclassics​ for reading over a bit of this as well. Appreciate you guys ❤

series masterlist

“Mr. Kwon is ready to see you now.” You get up from your seat, stretching a little before following the little woman named Helen in front of you. She leads you down a massive hallway full of sports memorabilia, making small conversation along the way. This isn’t your first time here; the enormous stadium was built five years ago with enough money to feed the homeless for ten years. Sometimes you are here to watch a football game, but you are mostly here on business. 

You are a journalist working for the country's most prominent television broadcasting company at the top of your field. You’ve met many celebrities in your area, some of whom you have become close to. Unfortunately, you have also met some not-so-nice ones, but fortunately, in your line of work, you don’t have to deal with them unless they come to you via their company. You love your job, and today you will interview the hot shot athlete from The Tigers, Kwon Soonyoung, known nationwide as Hoshi.  

“He is finishing up a photo shoot, so he will be all yours soon,” Helen announces, opening a wide door. “You can just sit in here until he comes.” ‘I thought you said he was ready to see me,’ you think to yourself, annoyed that you have to wait longer. It’s not like you have anything else to do, but you value being professional and, most importantly, not wasting your time. She leads you to the main room where the photoshoot is happening, with Hoshi standing in front of the photographer. 

If you didn’t have quick reflexes, you would’ve run into Helen, knocking her on her face. He poses for the camera, wearing a gray crop top sweater, showing his firm abs. His black basketball shorts fit his hips perfectly, and the tiny veins on his lower stomach lead you to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of. This is your first time seeing him this close in person, and he is every bit as hot as everyone says he is. You thank Helen as you set your things on a glass table, carefully taking out your recorder and setting your questions aside for when he is finished. “Alright, buddy. We are done,” the photographer announces, shutting off his camera. “Finally, I’m ready to get some grub,” Hoshi exclaims loudly, rubbing his stomach. You make eye contact, with Hoshi winking at you and returning it with small heads up. You are used to guys, and sometimes women hitting on you. He will have to do better than that. “Hi there,” you rise out of your seat. “I’m—” “I know who you are,” his tone is smooth like silk. “You’re the pretty lady who gets to talk sports with us.” You shake hands, reaching for your chair before Hoshi unexpectedly grabs you. His hands are soft, and his nails are clipped and clean, the results of a very good manicurist. “Sorry darling, but I’m hungry,” he explains. “I ordered some lunch for us in the conference room. I hope that's okay.” You blink, slowly removing your hand and clearing your throat. You aren’t opposed to eating a little early, and it is not like you haven’t worked and eaten at the same time before. “Sure,” you nod. “I could use a bite, anyway.” You gather your things, and he leads you across the hall, a room set up with sandwiches from a popular local deli. The food there is your favorite, and your stomach rumbles as soon as you sit down. “Well, this is quite the setup,” you observe, pulling out your tape recorder. “I hope I am making a good first impression,” he winks at you. “Maybe you are,” you flirt back. You cross your legs, your skirt rising slightly, showing off your smooth legs. Hoshi’s checking you out, and you smirk, used to the attention that you get when interviewing athletes. You know you are gorgeous, your best feature being your warm eyes. You use that to your advantage, making people feel comfortable as they tell you about themselves. You finish setting up and take a small sandwich, biting into it and feeling instant gratification. Next, Hoshi pulls a chair in front of you with his own food, taking a bite of a pickle. “You look content,” he remarks playfully. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw the food,” you confess. Your face heats up, and you regain composure, wiping your mouth with a napkin before turning on your recorder. You can feel his eyes on you, your skin tingles, and you feel warm, like you are basking in the sun. Hoshi is not the first person you have interviewed you found attractive, but you always make it a point to be professional at all times. It gets messy in the world of sports journalism, and after seeing what your peers have gone through, you want no parts of it. No matter how cute he is. “So,” you clear your throat. “We are here at the championship game finally. How do you feel?” “I’m pumped,” Hoshi perks up. “This has been a long time coming.” “I watched your game, where you ran the game-winning touchdown. What was going through your mind when the clock hit zero and you were at the goalpost?” He slouches back in his seat, his hand laid over his right leg. “I thought, ‘it’s about damn time,’” he remarks. “I want to lead the team to victory once more.” You see the passion behind those brown eyes, and you feel his conviction in his voice. You have seen him play before, and you can feel he is one of the best wide receivers in the nation. The way he eyes the field and manages to outmaneuver the cornerbacks, you deduce that he is an intelligent player. “I know everyone asks similar questions, so I want to ask you something different.” You pause to take a sip of water. “What inspires you to get out there on the field?” He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifts in his seat, a falter of sadness reflected on his face. It catches you a bit off guard, not expecting to see this side of him so early. “My dad,” he says. “My dad died before I was drafted, and I want to do this for him.” You offer a small, kind smile, feeling his pain from your own experience. You lost your dad in a car accident the day you were hired by the company. He was your only parent growing up and your biggest supporter. That was a few years ago, and that pain feels fresh every day. “We can take a break, if you want,” you offer, turning off the tape recorder. “I know how it feels to lose a dad, and I understand if you need a moment.” Your eyes meet each other, understanding the shared feeling of losing a parent said without words. He shakes his head, takes a sip of water, and sits up straighter in his seat. “Nah, it’s okay,” his voice is gruff. “This isn't really the time for the feels right now.” You nod, turning back on the recorder and returning to your questions. 

“What is the first thing you will do when you win the championship?” “Ask you out on a date.” You snort, not expecting that to be his answer. But you have to give it to this guy; he is bold. “I’m serious,” he asserts. “When we win, I will find you on that field and ask you out on that date.” “You’re awfully forward,” you muse. “You barely know me.” “You’re right,” Hoshi responds. “I hardly know you. But I like what I see. I know what you do, and you do it well. You’ve been on my radar for a while now.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words. Then, you ask him more questions about his family life and sports records when Helen comes in, telling him it's time to go into the locker room. You check your timer, noting that you had been talking to him for forty minutes and time flew by fast. “I appreciate your candor, Hoshi,” you say, gathering your things. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk with me.” “Of course,” Hoshi declares. “Don’t forget, I am going to ask you out on that date in a couple of weeks.” You shake your head, not bothering to hide the grin on your face. “Okay,” you chuckle. “We’ll see.”

You stare at your computer screen, tapping your pen nervously as you read every comment on your article about Hoshi. Most of them are positive, a tremendous relief to you because you worked on it to help your readers see another of him. Of course, there were a few troll comments here and there, but you never let those get to you. Some people just want to be seen, and you’d like to think you have tough skin. You have to, in this industry anyway. 

It’s been a week in a half since you saw Hoshi; the interaction is still fresh on your mind, leaving an everlasting impression on you. As everyone says, he is charming and witty, but seeing it firsthand hits differently. In addition, he has a southern charm that makes you smile, reminding you of your upbringing in the South. You shouldn’t think about him this much; you barely know the guy. ‘Get it together,’ you are lost in your thoughts. ‘Just because you haven’t had sex in a while doesn’t mean you should bounce on the first person giving you attention.’ 

“Great job on the article.” You yelp in surprise, not noticing that your boss Gail Kim is beside you. “You scared me,” you titter, clutching your chest. “But thank you.” “So,” Gail pulls up a seat next to you. “Danielle will not be able to interview the winning football team this Sunday. She has covid.” “Oh, my god. Is she okay?” You pause before realizing that was a stupid question. “Wait, of course, she’s not. What the hell is wrong with me? How is she feeling?” “She’s… okay, I guess,” she mutters. “But you know the quarantine period is five days, which overlaps into the game.”

There is a slight pause, then it dawns on you. “Am I going to be interviewing the team?” “Yes,” Gail reveals. “I need you to step in her place.” Interviewing at any big event is the highlight of anyone’s career, let alone the championship. You’ve been on the red carpet at the Oscars, the Grammys, and any other prestigious event, but this has been your dream. One more thing to knock off your bucket list. “Yeah, I can do it,” you say eagerly. “Great. I knew I could count on you.” Gail gets up from her seat. “Get your questions ready, and I want them in my inbox by 5 pm tomorrow.” “Yes, ma'am,” you joke, playfully giving a salute. You look at the time, noticing it is after five and time for you to go. You shut down your computer and lamp, gathering your purse before almost bumping into a man holding a bouquet of flowers. “Hi, I think this is for you,” he says, handing the flowers. “Thank you?” your voice trails off as he walks away. Your fingers trail over your favorite flowers, the prettiest roses and Shasta daisies you have ever seen. They smell fresh, as if they were picked from a garden, wrapped nice and tight in pink foil paper. You are aware of your coworkers staring at your gift and your good friend Gina marveling at the flowers. 

“Is it Valentine's day already?” she quips. “Who’s the lucky person?”

“I don’t know,” you smell the flowers. “I should thank them, though.”

A small white card is snugged in the middle of the bouquet, and you pull it out, reading what’s displayed in beautiful penmanship. Just a little idea of what our date is going to be like. -H “Wait, who’s H?” Gina questions. “That’s not who I think it is—” “Shh,” you cut off. “Walk with me.” You both beeline it to the elevators, feeling relieved when you step in and no one joins you. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your adrenaline pumping like you are keeping a horrible secret. “So, listen,” you begin. “You know how I had that interview with Hoshi?” Gina nods, pressing the parking level button. “I remember.” “Well, he was flirting with me heavily and then basically promised to ask me out on a date at the game.” Gina’s eyes widen, and you try to surprise your grin, failing miserably as you press your lips together. “So, are you gonna go out with him?” “I-I don’t know,” you stammer. “He’s direct, and he’s cute… but I am so into work right now. I finally got where I dreamed of being, and I don't want anyone thinking it's because I got with some hot football player.” “Oh please. Fuck these people!” Gina exclaims. “You got here because of your merit and hard work. Plus, it's been a while, and you need to get laid, my friend.”

The elevator doors open at the worse time, with two men on the other side with curious eyes. You excuse yourself quietly, speed walking to your car to hide from further embarrassment. “Jesus, Gina,” you mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispers loudly. “How the hell was I supposed to know there were people at the other end?!” You shake your head, turning your keys into your car. You know she meant well, and you aren’t really mad at her. Just embarrassed that two random men know about your sex life or lack thereof. 

“So, are you gonna call him?” Gina probes. “Are you gonna thank him for the flowers?”

“Mm, I should,” you mutter. “Let me get on that.” Gina nods, and you say your goodbyes, getting in your car and driving out of the parking center. Then, you send a voice message to your contact at the Tigers organization, asking for his number to “verify something” you wrote in your article. His number is in your inbox a few minutes later, ready to be called. Deep down, you are starting to feel giddy, like a young girl with a school crush on a popular boy. It’s not the first time you’ve received flowers from anyone, especially shown who’s shown interest in you. But something about him is bold and different… maybe you’ve watched too many clips of this man. “Hey siri, call xxx-xxx-xxxx.” The phone rings twice before he picks up. “Hi there, beautiful,” his voice comes through smooth as silk. “Hi,” you click your tongue. “So uh, I got your flowers. How did you know what to get?” “It’s just like I told you; I’ve had my eye on you for a while, and I pay attention.” “Uh huh,” you hum. “Well, I want to thank you for them. They are very nice.” “Anytime, gorgeous,” he replies. “I gotta go, game stuff. But I’ll see you on Sunday?” “Yeah, you will.” You end the call as you pull up to your condo. You aren’t willing to break your rules yet, and you see nothing wrong with getting to know him. It can’t hurt to go on one date with him, right?

“There are two minutes and forty-eight seconds left in the fourth quarter, with the Tigers trailing behind by five points. The coach has called for a timeout.”

You nod at your cameraman, Jeff, pinning your mic together on your shirt before grabbing your mic and leaving the press box. The short walk to the field is buzzing with personnel and other reporters fixing up their hair or going over last-minute questions before the celebration begins. You bite your lip, the outcome of the game leaving a fit of nervous bubbles in your stomach as you watch the field. You want the Tigers to win, not just because Hoshi is the team's star wide receiver, though that is a plus. You and Hoshi have been texting since he sent flowers to your job, mainly flirting and getting to know him through his funny innuendos. So far, you’ve learned he is a mama’s boy, has a big heart, and loves tigers. You can tell he is a good person and cares about the people around him. It’s not like you daydream or wish for the impossible, but you hope he asks you on that date tonight. “Seventeen seconds left on the clock, Choi throws a fifty-yard pass to Hoshi… MY GOD! HOSHI CATCHES THE BALL AND MAKES THE TOUCHDOWN! TIGERS HAVE WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME!”

The crowd erupts in thunderous applause, confetti falling from the stadium's roof, and fans from all over jumping and shrieking with joy. Hoshi is raised in celebration, holding the football in his hand, screaming victory with tears in his eyes. The other reporters rush out to interview the teams, but you know better, not wanting to get mixed in with the crowd of personnel, family, and friends on the field. You wait until the coaches have shaken hands and the crowd disperses a bit before walking onto the field. The stage is already set up, with the organization's commissioner standing on the podium, trophy in hand. Making your way to the stage, you review your questions in your head one last time before the team arrives. “We will be ready in thirty seconds,” the cameraman tells you. You nod, turning around and bumping squarely into someone’s chest, your face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m such a clutz—” “It’s okay, darlin’,” that familiar buttery voice responds. “You look really pretty.”

Hoshi is gazing at you, his short blonde hair messy from his helmet, his good looks more evident than before. You can’t help beam at him; unbeknownst to you, you are falling for his charm. “Thank you,” you grinned, moving in front of him. Your body slightly rubs against his, the tension small but noticeable enough to set your insides on fire. This is a bad time to be horny, and Hoshi doesn’t make things any better. “So that date—” The theme song comes on, cutting him off, and you move in front of the camera. You introduce Commissioner Han to the crowd, listening to talk about the game and listing off the players' achievements. “And this year’s MVP goes to… Hoshi!” The cheers shake the podium, Hoshi moves up to the front to accept the MVP trophy. You two make eye content, a wide smile spread on his face. You stand next to him, mic in hand, watching the wave of emotions seen on his face. “What is going through your mind right now?” He doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes filled with tears as he breaks down and sobs. He didn’t have to answer the question for you to understand how he felt. This is supposed to be the happiest moment of his life, but the one person who wanted to see him succeed the most isn’t there. You know that feeling all too well. “Dad,” he catches his breath. “I hope you are proud of me. I did it.” Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion; his teammates hugged him, giving him words of encouragement that lifted his spirits. It brought you back to when you found out your dad died right after you were hired for this dream job. He always rooted for you and was your best friend, your only family. Losing him was a cross you never thought you would have to bear, and if you are being honest with yourself, it's something you can never get over. The mood makes you sentimental, and a single tear falls down your cheek. Not wanting to be noticed, you wipe it away quickly. You wait for him to regain his composure before he finishes the interview, the atmosphere full of love and admiration for Hoshi. You couldn’t have been more proud. “Any last words?” 

There is another pause, a twinkle in his eye. “Yes. Will you go on that date with me?” You cock your eyebrow, trying to surprise your smirk. His teammates scream in loud cheer, the crowd telling you to say yes. You admit you were caught off guard, the date not even on your mind after seeing him cry. But Hoshi got you good, and you can’t say you aren’t impressed. You nod, not bothering to hide your smile anymore. “Yes, I’ll go on that date with you.”

The next few weeks were hectic, the championship high still going strong in the city. You were assigned other projects, and Hoshi was busy celebrating his win with his team. His “proposal” of a date on national tv put you more in the public eye, with people all over wanting to know about your relationship. Your boss loved it, asking you every other day about him and mentioning the buzz the department was getting. Gina was specifically entertained, teasing you every chance she got. “So, where’s your star player?” Gina taunts you, sitting on your desk.

“I… don’t know,” your voice trails off, turning around to face her. “Why, what's up?” “Mmmm, do you think he has a single teammate looking for a good time?” “Jesus, Gina,” you snort. “How am I supposed to know? I haven’t even gone on a date with the man yet.” “Speaking of that, when is that happening?” Gina probes. “I mean, it's been a few weeks since he’s asked.” “Your guess is as good as mine,” you muse. “We’ve been talking a lot, so maybe he has something planned.” Gina returns to her desk, and you finish working on your projects. It’s been a welcoming distraction from being anxious about your date whenever that happens. It’s not like you and Hoshi haven’t talked since then. You talk every day, either via text or video chatting. He greets you good morning and makes an effort to make sure he is the last person you say good night to. You have a lot in common in your shared interests in travel and childhood stories about your dads. Talking with him is comfortable; his positive energy is a small light in your hectic life that you greatly appreciate.

He gets more handsome every time you see him, and you finally see what everyone is raving about. He’s a small-town boy with a big heart, always talking about how much he loves his mom and how much he provides for her. It made you wish you had a family like that, someone you could rave about and show a lot of love to. It also doesn’t help that he’s a looker; your favorite part of him is his dimples. The way they randomly appear when he’s talking always sends you into a tailspin, but you’d never tell him that, of course. A few hours pass, and you check the time, realizing it is time to go. You finished most of your research and decided to do the rest at home, wanting to be in the rush hour traffic. You have a three-day weekend, and you plan to enjoy yourself by all means. You sit up to gather your things, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Hoshi calling you, your heart skipping a few beats. “Hi,” you answer quickly. “Hey, beautiful. Are you done for the day?” “I might be,” you toy with the string on your purse. “Why, what's up?”

“Okay, I’m coming right up!” “What—” He hung up before you could fully react, butterflies quickly filling your stomach. You check yourself on your camera, doing a once-over just before the elevator opens. He strides in, wearing a black bomber jacket, fitted jeans, sneakers, and a white shirt with a single gold chain. He is holding the prettiest bundles of white roses, presenting them to you as you walk toward him. “H-Hi there,” you stutter. “I wasn’t expecting you here.” “I know, I know,” Hoshi responds, pulling you into a hug. “We never planned that date, and I figured why not now? So I worked it out with your boss and freed your schedule up for me.” “Oh, did you now?” You turn around and look towards Gail’s office, who is standing at the door, a smirk on her face. 

“Well, are you ready?”

You beam at him, pushing the strap of your purse over your shoulder. The butterflies are still there, and your heart is beating a million thumps per second, but at this moment, you are ecstatic. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m ready.” He suddenly picks you up, carrying you out of the office while your coworkers cheer you on. Feeling incredibly shy, you hide in his jacket until you reach the elevators. Once you’re in and you hear the doors close, you peak and look at him, meeting his dark brown eyes. “You are something else,” you giggle. “Do you plan on carrying me all the way to the car?” “I didn’t plan to,” he confirms. “But now I will.” You roar with laughter as the elevator stops, Hoshi keeping his promise and carrying you to his black Jeep. You hold on to him tightly, admitting to yourself that you don’t want to let go. He senses your earnestness, opening the door while holding onto you with one arm. His strength turns you on, your mind wondering if he would use that same strength in the bedroom. You know he has a nice body, and you’ve imagined him being on top of you with your legs open, pounding you until you came over and over. It’s gotten you through some nights you felt needy, your trusty dildo doing the trick until you can have the real thing. “Do you like steak?” You blurt out as he sits in the car. 

“Yeah, why?” “I make a mean steak and potatoes, and if you don’t mind swinging by the market, I can cook for you,” you offer. Hoshi shuts your door and goes to the driver’s seat, turning on his engine. “Making me dinner already?” He playfully rubs his stomach. “I might just have to marry you, woman.”

The crackling sound of oil and the smell of steak fill up your condo quickly. Two wine glasses on the counter, filled halfway with red cabernet, one of them stained with your lipstick. You made due on your promise, making steak and mashing up your potatoes to serve with your meal. Your grilled asparagus was already finished, set to the side to cool off. Hoshi watches you with curiosity, and you don’t mind it, as you pride yourself on being a good cook. Since your dad passed, you haven’t offered to cook for anyone, and you feel a bit rusty, second-guessing yourself on a simple recipe. “Are you okay?” Hoshi chuckles. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Uh, yeah,” you fib, grabbing the salt. “It’s just been a while since I’ve cooked for anyone.”

You add your milk and butter to the potatoes, mixing them with garlic, salt, and pepper until they are fluffy to your liking. You feel Hoshi move around you, turning over your steaks in your pan. Every time he gets close to you, you tense up, your inner goddess begging you to give in. It doesn’t help that he is so stinking cute with a nice body. You are in deep trouble. “I’m not a good cook. Terrible actually,” he says. “But I know how to make a steak.”

“Oh, what would I do without you?” You tease. “Well, let’s hope we never find out.”

The steaks are finished several minutes later, and you make the plates, sitting them at the table while he waits. You hold your breath while you watch him take his first bite, sitting on pins and needles as you hope he likes it. 

“Damn, woman,” he swallows. “You know how to throw down.”

Feeling proud, you dig into your own food, discussing your day and upcoming projects. Then, he talks about an upcoming family trip to the mountains, where he owns a huge cabin. You think about the time your dad took you to one for Christmas, waking up to snow falling from the sky and holiday music playing throughout the place. It was one of the happiest moments of your life, and you would give anything to relive that again. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Hoshi asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh yeah,” you get up quickly with your empty plate. “I’m fine. I am just gonna get some more wine.”

You wash your plate at the sink, taking a moment to get together before running right into Hoshi, getting barbecue sauce on his shirt.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I am so sorry. Let me clean that for you.”

Before he could protest, you already have a detergent stain remover in your hands, scrubbing the sauce off vigorously. Yet, you can still see the stain there, and in the spur of the moment, you do the unthinkable. 

“Take your shirt off.”

“What?” Hoshi says nervously, playfully clutching his shirt.

“Come on,” you chuckle. “I am going to throw it in the washer.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. Take off your shirt, or I will do it for you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, a devious smirk on his face, and you gulp, realizing what you got yourself into. He closes the space between you two, the tension building like a balloon ready to pop. 

“So do it. Take it off.”

Your fingers flirt seductively with the hem of his shirt, pulling it off slowly. You didn’t hear the shirt fall to the floor; you were too distracted by the sexy man in front of you. He licks his lips, and you bite yours, allowing his arms to wrap around your waist. Your face is inches away from his, your insides clawing at you, begging you to take him. 

“You're dangerous,” you murmur. “Am I?” 

“Yeah. I like it, though.”

He leans in and kisses you; it feels magnificent like fireworks lit up in the sky. Your heart is pounding, and your breathing is heavy as you drink him in, walking backward towards your bedroom. Both your clothes come off in a blur, your naked bodies pressed against each other, engulfed in a flame of passion and sensuality that had been brimming for so long. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispers as his lips trail down your neck. Your skin tingles as if you are finally being awakened by his touch, your hands clinging to his hair as he reaches your breasts. His tongue swirls seductively around your hardened mounds, his warm hands cupping your ass and giving it a nice squeeze. Your center is dripping for him as if he read your mind, his fingers slowly trickling to your tight hole. “Already wet for me, baby?” He teases, his thumb rubbing your clit softly. “Y-yes,” you murmur, jolts of electricity spreading between your legs. He licks each nipple, sucking on them until they are nice and ripe, then makes his way down between your legs. Finally, he stands up, his hand pumping his cock as he licks his lips in fascination at your pretty pussy. You knew he had a nice body since you saw a peak at the photo shoot, but seeing him naked, sexy, and rock hard because of you sends you into an internal spiral. “I gotta taste you.”

He licks his lips again, getting on his knees and pulling you closer to him. Then, without any warning, his tongue attacks your nectar, slurping happily as your body radiates from pleasure.  Your hand clutches onto your breast, pinching yourself as he dives into your sweet heat, ravishing you like a starved man. Your legs tremble as he slips his delicate fingers inside you, instantly making you crave his cock. “Hoshi, please,” you moan softly, lifting your head up, so you watch him. “Make me cum.”

Without delay, he laps his tongue against your clit, your moans turning into screams, and then whimpers as his fingers pump into you faster. He growls as he dives further into your cunt, the pressure building deep inside you as you feel it coming. He goes deeper into your dripping sex, his tongue flattening your clit, sending you over the edge as you finally cum in his mouth. Your hands grip his hair tightly as you ride his face, screaming beautiful profanities as your body goes through this incredible high. Finally, his fingers slip out of you slowly, and you take his hand, sucking your juices off each of his fingers. “F-fuck,” you breathe heavily. “I don’t think I’ve ever come like that.”

“Well, look forward to more of those, sweetheart,” he murmurs, standing up.

His hand is pumping his cock vigorously, beads of precum dripping out of him and making your lips water. Instinctively, you kneel in front of him, taking his cock and sucking on his head. His legs shudder, and he lets out a low howl, an evil grin on your face as he does not know what he’s gotten into. You love sucking dick when it’s the right person. 

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, baby.”

You shove his thick cock into your mouth, sucking him gleefully and savoring his taste. You wrap your fingers around his base, giving it a tight squeeze before running down his shaft, your slobbering mouth sucking his balls, your tongue swirling around in a way that makes him shift his stance. You return to his length, letting him hit the back of your throat as he fucks your face roughly. Tears roll down your face at his roughness, but you don’t mind it; your clit throbs at the thought of this soon filling your tight cunt. 

He cocks his head back, clearly enjoying the divine feeling of your warm mouth. His hand has a tight grip on your hair, his strokes slowly before pulling himself out of your mouth, pulling you up to your feet, and kissing you deeply. He lays you back on the bed, marveling over your naked body before climbing over you, parting your legs with his knee. You hold your breath, watching him slowly sink into you, filling you up until you take him whole. “Are you okay?”

Hoshi kisses you as he strokes you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. The moans between you two are synced together, his hips bucking as his thrusts are faster and deeper. The hard-smacking noise of bodies colliding together echoed in your bedroom. He grunts with each thrust, his hands grabbing your throat and, with your nod of approval, giving it a slight squeeze. 

“Fuck,” you mew, biting your lip. “Just like that, please.”

You are soaked for him, the squishiness of your tight core heard with each pound into you. The tighter he squeezed, the more aroused you became, your walls clenching around him. It had been a while since you had good dick, and this was very much worth the wait. He suddenly releases his hand from your throat, pulling you into sloppy kiss, deep pants against your skin as he fucks you senselessly. 

“I’m so close,” he putters, looking into your eyes. 

You were about to reach your peak, the coil threatening to snap below as he lifted your legs over his shoulder. Your hand finds your clit, rubbing it hard until you scream his name, your orgasm crashing down on you like an avalanche. Hoshi looks amazed, watching your legs shake because of him, his release soon after on your stomach. Your heart is beating fast, barely catching your breath as you collapse on the bed, eyes wide at the ceiling.

“You are sensational,” he whispers, leaving sweet kisses on your face. 

You can’t help but giggle, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling with him tightly. You had every intention of getting up to shower and clean up the mess you made from cooking, but instead, you fell into a deep sleep in his arms. You don’t feel him get up or hear him go into your bathroom, take his shower, and then clean you delicately. You are sound asleep as he cleans up your kitchen and makes sure your cats are fed. But you do feel him get back into the bed with you, and kiss you on your forehead.

“Hey,” you mumble. 

“I was just straightening up the mess we made. Go back to sleep, love.”

You did exactly that, falling into a deep sleep and waking up at sunrise, still in his arms. You ended up spending your three-day weekend with him, staying in and ordering take-out, watching movies, having meaningful talks about each other’s lives, and fucking each other whenever you wanted. You had each other wrapped in each other’s fingers, a twin flame you never thought you had in this world. You looked into his eyes and felt something, a hope of what your lives could be together if you let him in. 

“You aren’t going to ghost me, are you?” The weekend is over, and you are at the door, kissing Hoshi goodbye. “Not if you come over with snacks, Hoshi,” you joke, playfully pushing him out the door. “I think we are past nicknames now,” he leaves you with one last kiss. “Call me Soonyoung.” (bonus chapter)

[a-pretty-nerd]

Madness: Chapter 5

John Murphy x reader mob au

Concept: Keeping secrets from your mob boss father has always been difficult. But how hard will it be to keep your new affair with his new hitman, Murphy, be?

A/N: Yeah, okay. This took a while, and I’M SORRY! But Holidays happened! So I hope you enjoy this as a little late Holiday gift to all my lovely readers! As always, requests and feedback are much appreciated. ✌❤

Warnings: NSFW, and mob stuff! Just…yknow…its a mob au!

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After that fateful night, everything shut down. Your father closed the hotel he owned. Only allowing certain trust worthy staff, and his own men in and out. You, were trapped. Barley allowed out of your room. After the incident, he wasn’t taking any chances. You felt locked up in your room, with Reyes to keep you company. At least she was allowed to leave to run errands for you. But you usually forced the twins to go, if they weren’t busy. Normally, Reyes would bug Fish for it but…fin was gone now.

“We’ll have a service for him. He deserves a good send off for savin my kid.” You heard your father spit from across the room. You stood in front of the fire of the small ballroom. Across the room, a table where your father and some goons sat talking. You stared at the flames, sipping your drink. Made strong. The dulling effect of drinking, helped to say the least. “A little thing for his bride.” The last word tugg on your ear. As you spoke, you turned your head around.

“Bride? Finn had a girl?” You questioned.

“Engaged. You know the family. Griffin.” Griffin. The name circled through yoh mind.

“Clarke?” Your father just slowly nodded, and turned back. You knew that name, but what where- Reyes. Reyes had said that name before. “Exscuse me.” You walked, fast pace. The loud sound of your heels hitting the tile floor as you thumped through the room, setting aside your drink before bursting through the halls. You went back to your room, swinging the door open. Reyes say on the bed, legs crossed as she peered down at an open book. “They’re having a funeral for Finn.” You spat. Her head shot up.

“What?”

“A service, for Finn. It’ll be in the ballroom of the large wing. For…Clarke.” You spoke the last word, with shaky breath. Not sure how she would react. You’ve only heard the name shouted, and cursed by her. Her eyes darted away from you, as if in thoughts. Their past was rocky. Reyes was so strong and nobel, but with Finn. Thats how you met her. Finn brought her to a party, and the two of you clicked.

“When?” She asked after a moment of silence.

“Wednesday…”

“Alright.” And she went back to reading. As if it was nothing. You thought about saying something. Asking if she was alright, or if she should be more upset. But you knew her too well. She was too strong for this.

Wednesday came too soon. Your father had arranged the ceremony for the afternoon. But the unsettling brightness of morning woke you. It shot through the curtains, directly in your sight. You ground, as you made it out of bed. The whole world, seemed blurry. No matter how many times your rolled your eyes. No matter how many cups of coffee you had. Your father’s men came. Every last one of them. The hotel was practically full. Your father prided himself on his group being like a family. But he had men working for him across the country. But when one died, so…tragically. It was rough. Octavia stood by you through it. While Reyes, wasn’t to be found. You walked down the isle to his open casket. You peered down at his body. You searched for the holes that littered his flesh. None to be seen. Even the one in his left cheek. His spirit long gone. This was a shell you looked at. Not his body. Blake took your black, clove-covered hands, and walked you to your seat beside the twins. M looked at you, with apologetic eyes. He reached an arm around and held you for a moment, while J ran his hand up and down your back. You sat in the first row, as a pastor began to talk. A familiar face. Your father had employed him since you were a child.

He spoke a few words, reading passages from the bible. Blake became bored and looked around. She nodded at her brother who sat across the room, Bellamy. Another goon. But then her eyes glazed over another spectical. She stated a little too long, and had to dodge Murphy’s glance at her. She jolted back to the ceremony.

“Your lover boy is here.” She whispered in your ear. J turned and looked back at him.

“What. You and the hitman?” He whispered into the conversation.

“Mind your buisness.” You hushed back.

“We will now take this time, so that if anyone would like to share a memory, or speak. You may.” The pastor spoke, and hobbled off. Your father stood, and walked up to podium. He spoke about inducting him, and suddenly, a loud sound came from the other end of the isle. In front, a blonde woman, with a soaked hankerchief in her hand. Started loudly sobbing.

“Jesus. Poor girl.” M whispered.

“I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.” J agreed. Poppa struggled to get through his words with the sound. Once he was done, you stood, and walked up. Your legs shaking like jelly, and your face flushed. The sobbing subsided for just a second. You cleared your throat.

“Finn, was a wonderful friend of mine. I was there…that night.” You choked. “I never knew someone could take so much before they dropped.” You earned a chuckle from the group of, mostly clean cut men. “Fish, had been with us for many years. He introduced me to, my now best friend, Raven Reyes. I owe him so much. Including, my life. Finn, will be remembered, as hero. And one hell of a man.” You spoke proudly at the end. An applause went out, as you walked back to your seat. Tears running down your face. One by one, people went up to share memories. And then suddenly, it was over. There was a dinner afterwards. But you decided to skip out. You made it back to your room. A figure sat in a chair across from the bed. Sitting with it’s legs crossed. “Why weren’t you there this afternoon, huh? Yknow it’s really disrespectful to-” As you spoke, you moved about your room to make yourself comfortable. Until you realized, it wasn’t Raven. You stopped, and stared. As you realized.

“Disrespectful to what, my darling?” Murphy purred.

“Oh, fuck off.” You barked. He turned his head, before standing.

“Now thats disrespectful, pet. I dropped in to give you my condolences, and you spit in my face.”

“I am in no mood for you, Murphy.” He strolled over to you.

“Are you ever?” He leaned in, his lips away for yours. He swayed slightly, his hands planted in his pockets. “Although, as I recall. Not too long ago, you were melting in my hands.” You pulled away, to walk over to the mini-bar.

“Not now, you rat. It’s been a rough day.“You sipped your strong drink, as a small attempt to wash it all away. He leaned over, and took away the glass.

"Then let me.” He placed the drink down on the table, and got close. “Love is better for you than booze.”

“Love? I wouldn’t call this love.”

“Then what would you describe this? What we are.” You looked him and down.

“Madness.” A smile stretched across his face.

“Oh yes. Glorious, beautiful madness.” He purred. His hands grabbing onto your hips, as his lips did to yours. You couldn’t stop him. You didn’t want to. His skin against yours was better than any drug, or drink. Everything melted away other than him. The feeling of him unzipping your dress, and laying you down. He was gentle this time. Tender. At first it was unsettling, and strange from him. But gradually you learned to do the same back. You ran your fingers down his bare back, as he helds your legs apart. His cock filling you. You moaned, and arched your back as you lost yourself in him. You may talked a big game, but you were helpless against him. His movements drove you wild, causing you to moan his name while your fingers tugged at his hair. He held you close as he made love to you. The sound of moans and passionate kisses echoed in the room. Ending perfectly with both of your orgasms.

You layed under the satin sheets, watching as Murphy lit a cigarette.

“Who the hell are you?” You questioned. John looked over with heavy eyeslids. He smiled, and shrugged.

“I’m Madness, pet.” He cooed, reached over, and pulling you into his arms. You went to call him out, but before you coule speak there was a-

“I spoke to her. I spoke to Clarke.” Raven shouted, throwing open the door and walking in on the scene at hand. Her eyes went wide, as the two of you jumped apart. Everyone stared at one another in an awkward silence before slamming the door behind her. “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”