whoops accidentally slept til noon my bad. Anyway, here’s the very much anticipated filthy, kinky Hobi smut. I really hope you guys like it…ah, I’m worried xD Anyway much love to all of you and especially the anon who first requested this!
Warnings: major D/S themes, breath play, spanking
The walk to the dance studio seems somehow longer this time. You’ve made the trip a hundred and one times before but this time, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears, it seems like you’ll never reach your destination. Even with Hoseok’s arm firm around your shoulders, pressing you against his side, you feel almost sick with nerves. He’s quiet, more so than usual, and most people walking by would assume it was just because of the late hour.
If they knew what he had in the black bag slung over his shoulder, they would know they were very, very wrong.
In a blink, you’re in front of the door to your destination and it’s only when Hoseok picks up your free hand that you realize you’re shaking.
“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against your fingers.
“I love you too, baby,” you choke back. Your voice wavers and you curse internally.
“You ready?”
Oh god, are you.
“Yes.”
He pulls you in close by the arm around your neck, free hand coming up to hold your cheek as he kisses you hard, mouth soothing over yours. You whimper in his hold, the way he crowds over you making you feel almost painfully little, and he nips at your mouth until you’re panting against his lips. You don’t notice him opening the door until he backs you up into the room. It’s a losing battle trying to control your breathing as he pushes you against the back of the door, reaching to slide the lock shut with a resounding click.
You pull away, teeth sinking into your lip as he leans against you.
Hoseok smirks down at you and your breath hitches at the familiar light in his gaze as he reaches to tip your chin up, his thumb sliding easily across your lower lip.
“You remember the rules, pet?” he hums.
“Yes, sir,” you whisper.
“Good girl.”
He replaces his thumb with his mouth, kissing you hard enough to bruise as he tugs your blouse out of the waistband of your pants. His tongue burns across yours, teeth tugging at your lips until they’re swollen and you’re squirming against the wood. A rough hand yanks your head sideways by your hair so he can latch his mouth onto the too-sensitive skin just below your ear and you let out a breathy whimper as his tongue and teeth worry the skin into a bruise. You almost miss the sound of him unzipping the bag.
