#reminder that he means its pointers time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formulas-bitch · 12 hours

Text

Come Back Home - Charles leclerc X leclercsibling/reader

4.9k words

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the concrete floor of the garage. It was always like this, Charles thought, when his older sister, Emily, returned home from her latest tour in the army. There was a certain air of anticipation, of excitement, that seemed to fill the room, as if the very walls themselves were vibrating with the energy of her presence. Even the old, rusty tools hanging on the walls appeared to glisten under her watchful gaze, as if they too were proud to be a part of her story.

Charles could feel his heart race with a mixture of nerves and joy as he watched Emily walk towards him. Her uniform was spotless, her posture straight and tall, her hair tied back in a tight bun that emphasized her sharp features. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue that he had inherited, sparkled with an unmistakable twinkle of pride. She held out her hand to him, and without a second thought, Charles took it, feeling the warmth and strength of her grip.

"You look great, Emily!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his grin. "I can't believe you're finally home!"

Emily smiled warmly at her little brother. "I missed you too, Charles. I've been thinking about that race of yours. You know, if you want, I could give you a few pointers. I mean, I might be a bit out of practice, but I've got some experience under my belt."

Charles' eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" he asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "That would be amazing! I've been practicing a lot, but it's always better when someone who's been there can help you."

Emily nodded, her expression softening. "Of course, little brother. I remember when you were just a kid, always tagging along with me to the track. I never imagined you'd grow up to be such a talented driver." She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We'll make a great team, you and me."

As they walked out of the garage and into the warm evening air, Emily glanced over at the dusty old trophy case by the side of the house. There, amidst the faded ribbons and tarnished medals, were a few shining reminders of her own racing days. She'd never won anything quite as impressive as the prize Charles was vying for, but she knew that didn't matter. Her pride in her little brother's accomplishments far outweighed any lingering feelings of envy or regret.

They made their way to the track, the familiar smell of hot rubber and burning fuel filling their noses. Emily's eyes scanned the course, analyzing the turns and the jumps, the potential hazards and the ideal lines. She'd spent so much time here, honing her skills, pushing herself to the limit. Now, standing here beside her brother, she realized that it had all been worth it.

"So," Emily said, as they walked along the fence, "tell me about your competition. Anyone I should keep an eye out for?"

Charles nodded, his expression a mix of determination and nerves. "Well, there's this one kid, Max, who's been winning everything lately. He's really good, but I think I can beat him. I've been practicing really hard, and I've got you to help me now." He glanced sideways at Emily, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Emily placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Charles," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I know you can do this. And even if you don't win, remember that it's about having fun and challenging yourself. That's what matters most." She gave him a wink, trying to ease some of the pressure he was feeling.

As they continued to walk along the fence, they came across a familiar-looking car, its paintjob faded and its tires worn thin. Emily recognized it immediately as Max's car, the one that had given her brother so much trouble during practice. "Hmm," she mused, "it looks like your competition could use a little help too. Maybe I could take a look at his car before the race and see if there's anything we can do to give you an edge."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, unable to hide his excitement. "That would be amazing! I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything…"

Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Charles. It's not about taking advantage. We're here to help each other out, remember? Besides, if we can help Max improve his car, it'll only make the race that much more interesting." She glanced over at the car, her eyes assessing its condition. "Let's take a look at it, shall we?"

Together, they approached Max's car, and Emily began to inspect it carefully. She checked the tire pressure, the alignment, and even took a look under the hood. After a few minutes of examination, she pulled out a rag and began to wipe away some of the grime from the engine. "This car has a lot of potential," she said to Charles, "but it's not being used to its fullest. If I were you, I'd focus on these few areas." She pointed to a worn-out suspension and a faulty spark plug. "With some TLC and a few simple adjustments, this car could be unstoppable."

Charles nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "Thanks, Emily. You don't know what this means to me." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Listen, I've been thinking… I know you're my big sister and all, but what if we were to team up? I mean, not just for this race, but for future ones too? We could be unbeatable together."

Emily considered his words carefully. She had always been close to her little brother, but the idea of actually racing alongside him had never crossed her mind. It was an intriguing prospect, but she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. "It's a nice idea, Charles," she said finally, "but you need to remember that we're still competing against each other today. I can't help you win the race if it means losing it myself. and also i never know when i will be called back to base and go on tour again."

Charles nodded, understanding her dilemma. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "But maybe…maybe we could just see how today goes, and then talk about it afterwards? You know, if we both do well and have fun, who knows what could happen?" He flashed her a hopeful smile.

Emily smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Okay," she agreed, surprised by how much she wanted to make this work. "We'll see how it goes. And even if we don't end up teaming up, I promise I'll always be your biggest fan, no matter what."

As they continued to walk around the car, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with her brother. They had always been close, but this newfound understanding and trust was something special. She could tell that Charles felt the same way, his movements more confident and his posture more erect.

The race finally began, and both Emily and Charles took their places at the starting line. Their engines revved in unison, and the air was filled with the smell of burning rubber and hot metal. As the flag dropped, they roared forward, their tires squealing against the pavement.

Emily and Charles stayed close together, watching each other's every move. They weaved in and out of traffic, avoiding potholes and other obstacles with ease. They could feel the tension between them, a mixture of determination and sibling rivalry. But they also felt a newfound respect for each other, a mutual understanding that they were in this together.

As they raced past the halfway mark, Emily began to pull ahead slightly. She glanced back at Charles, hoping he was doing alright, but didn't want to lose focus on the track. Suddenly, she heard a loud pop from his engine, and saw him slowing down. "Charles!" she shouted over the radio. "What's wrong?"

Charles gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the car under control. "I think I blew a tire," he replied, his voice strained. "I'm going to pull over and see if I can fix it."

Emily felt a pang of guilt as she watched her brother struggle. She knew how much this race meant to him, and she didn't want to be the reason he lost. She considered stopping as well, but she didn't want to give up her lead. Instead, she radioed back, "Don't worry about it, Charles. Just focus on getting the car fixed. I'll keep an eye on things until you're back."

As she continued to race, Emily couldn't help but keep glancing back over her shoulder. Each time she looked, she could see Charles frantically working on his car, trying to get it back up and running. The delay gave her a slight lead, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. She had to keep pushing if she wanted to win this race.

The track twisted and turned, winding its way through the lush greenery of the countryside. Emily expertly navigated the turns, her tires squealing against the pavement as she forced them to break traction. She could feel the engine beneath her, purring contentedly despite the recent setback. She knew that if she could just make it to the finish line, she had a good chance of winning.

In the distance, she could see Charles' car slowly making its way back onto the track. His progress was steady, but it was clear that he was struggling to keep up with her pace. Still, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching him battle his way back into the race.

The finish line came into view, and Emily redoubled her efforts, pushing her car to its limits. She knew that she had to maintain her lead if she wanted to win. The stands were packed with spectators, their cheers echoing across the track as they urged her on. She could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her helmet, but she refused to let it distract her.

Behind her, Charles was gaining ground steadily, his car running more smoothly now that he had fixed the tire. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable as he closed in on her, inching closer with each passing second. Emily could feel her heart racing, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

As they neared the finish line, the cheers from the crowd grew louder, their voices a deafening roar that seemed to envelop the entire world. Emily glanced over at Charles, her heart in her throat as she wondered if she would manage to hold on. With a final burst of speed, she crossed the finish line, her tires squealing in protest as she slid sideways. She looked up to see Charles just inches behind her, his face contorted in a grimace of determination.

The race officials waved their checkered flags, signaling the end of the race. Emily slowly pulled her car to a stop, her heart still racing, her muscles aching from the effort. She climbed out of the car, her helmet in her hands, and took a deep breath. She glanced around, searching for her brother, and saw him emerge from his car a few feet away. His face was flushed with exertion and emotion, and there was a mixture of pride and disappointment in his eyes.

They met each other halfway, clasping hands in a gesture of camaraderie and understanding. "I'm sorry, Charles," Emily said, her voice hoarse from shouting over the engine. "I didn't mean to cause you to blow your tire."

Charles smiled, his expression softening. "It's alright, sis. You didn't do it on purpose. Besides, you helped me realize that I can still keep up with you." He glanced at the track, a distant look in his eyes. "I'm just sorry I couldn't pull ahead this time."

The two of them stood there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. The sound of the crowd slowly faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees and the occasional hushed voice. Emily reached up and adjusted her helmet, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead. She knew that despite their sibling rivalry, she and Charles were a team. They always had been. all of a sudden Emily hears her phone ringing and sees it is her captain from the army calling.

"Sorry about that, Charles. I'd better take this. It's probably about my orders or something." Emily says, already walking a few steps away from her brother. She answers the call, pressing the phone against her ear. "Hello, Captain. What's up?"

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before the captain replies, his voice grave. "I'm afraid I have some news, Emily. Your unit has received orders for a deployment. You're to report to base immediately for processing." Emily feels a chill run down her spine. "But, I thought… I mean, I was supposed to be here for the rest of the season. What about my brother's race?"

The captain hesitates for a moment. "I'm sorry, Emily, but these orders are top priority. You need to put your training first. We'll work something out with your brother's race, but for now, you need to focus on getting to base." He gives her the details of where to go and when, and then hangs up the phone.

Emily feels a mixture of shock, fear, and guilt wash over her. She glances over at Charles, who is watching her with a concerned expression. "I've got to go, Charles," she says, her voice barely audible. "The army's sending me into deployment." She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her racing heart.

Charles's face falls, and he steps forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, Em. We'll get through this together. You're not going alone." He pauses, looking at her seriously. "I'll race for both of us now. I promise."

Emily looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes. She knows he's right; they've always been there for each other. "Thank you, Charles. I love you." She returns his hug, feeling the familiar weight of his arm across her shoulders.

Together, they walk back to their pit area, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty space. Emily can't help but feel a sense of loss, not just for herself, but for Charles as well. She knows that this will change everything for them.

As they approach their cars, they see their mom and siblings waiting for them, concern etched on their faces. Emily's older brother puts his arm around their mother's shoulders, offering what little comfort he can. Charles's mother reaches out to him, her hand trembling as she wipes away a tear.

The two of them get into their cars, Charles taking the lead as they pull out of the parking lot. Emily looks over at him, noticing the determination in his eyes as he focuses on the road ahead. She can tell that he's not just racing for himself anymore; he's racing for her too.

Their mother and siblings follow close behind, their mother's tears silent but steady as she watches her two children drive away. Emily's brother drives a bit more slowly, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror to check on his sister.

The race track stretches out before them, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the track. Charles takes a deep breath and focuses on the task at hand. He shifts gears, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator as he speeds up, his car whipping around the turns with precision. Emily watches him from the passenger seat, a mixture of awe and pride filling her heart.

In the car behind them, their siblings talk quietly among themselves, trying to distract their mother from the tension of the moment. They know that this race is more than just a race for Charles; it's a way for him to honor his sister's sacrifice and to show the world what they can achieve together.

Their mother, though quiet, is fiercely proud of both of her children. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. She remembers the day Emily left for basic training, how proud she was to see her daughter stand tall and strong. And now, she watches Charles race with the same mix of awe and pride.

and now she has to watch her only daughter be shipped out again and prays she make to back home safe.

Emily leans forward in her seat, her knuckles white as she grips the dashboard. She can feel the tension in her body, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She's not the one driving, but she feels like she is. Every move Charles makes, every decision he makes behind the wheel, feels personal to her. She can't help but wonder if this is how he feels when he's on the track with her.

Their mother glances up at the sky, watching the shadows grow longer. She wonders if Emily is thinking of her at this moment, if she can see the sky the same way. Perhaps they're both looking up at the same stars, hoping that one day they'll be able to watch Charles race together again.

Charles speeds past the finish line, his car screeching to a halt as he crosses it. He jumps out of the car, his heart racing and his lungs burning. His eyes dart around, searching for his family in the stands. their brothers are already there, clapping and cheering, their mother close behind. They spot Charles and their faces light up, relief and pride washing over them.

Emily watches from the pit area, her heart in her throat. She knows Charles did his best, and that's all she could have ever asked for. As he waves to them, she waves back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and love wash over her. Their mother stands up, wiping away a tear, and gestures for them to join her. They hurry over, their siblings forming a protective circle around them.

Their mother takes Emily's hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "I'm so proud of both of you," she says, her voice cracking. "You did her proud, Charles. And you, Emily, you've been his strength when he needed it most. You've both shown such courage and resilience."

Charles squeezes his sister's shoulder, feeling the weight of their mother's words. "Thanks, Mom. And Em, you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done. You've been my rock, my inspiration. I couldn't have done it without you."

emily wipes her eyes as she pulls her mother and brothers in a hug.

" now lets get out of here and grab some dinner before i have to report back to base"

Their mother smiles through her tears, nodding in agreement. "Of course. We'll celebrate tonight, just like you wanted." She turns to her oldest son. "Arthur , why don't you and Emily go with Charles to pick up some food? We'll head straight home and get everything ready?."

Arthur nods, stepping forward. "Sounds good, Mom. We'll be back in a jiffy." He turns to Emily, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" They begin to walk towards Charles' car, a light breeze rustling through the trees behind them.

Charles pulls up to a local food truck park, parking his car between two brightly colored vehicles. The aroma of various cuisines fills the air, making their stomachs rumble in anticipation. "So, Em, what do you feel like getting?" he asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Emily shrugs, her mind already wandering to the dinner table at home with their family. "I'm not really sure. Whatever sounds good to you, I guess."

Charles nods, glancing at the menu board above the truck. "Hmm, I'm in the mood for some Mexican tonight. How does that sound? Chicken tacos, maybe some quesadillas?"

Emily smiles, feeling her stomach growl in agreement. "That sounds delicious. I'm sure Mom would love some help with the dinner too."

They step up to the window, watching as the friendly food truck owner takes their order. As they wait for the food, they lean against the car, enjoying the warm evening air. "Hey, Charles, I wanted to thank you again for letting me come with you today. I know it's not easy for you, being away from everything and everyone back home."

Charles shrugs, trying to downplay his emotions. "Hey, it's fine. I'm glad you're here. I'd rather have you by my side than anyone else. Besides, it helps me remember what I'm fighting for." He pauses, looking at Emily seriously.

Their food arrives, they grab it and start driving home.

"I'm sure you'll make a great soldier when you're back in the field," Enzo says, taking a bite of his quesadilla. "I mean, you're already so strong and brave. And I know Dad is so proud of you and remember he is always watching you em"

Emily feels a lump in her throat as she listens to Enzo. She knows he's right; their father is always watching over them, and she wants to make him proud. She takes a bite of her taco, savoring the flavors and the warmth it brings to her insides. As they continue to eat, she can't help but feel a sense of pride and love for her family. They've been through so much together, and she knows they'll always be there for each other.

as soon as they finish their dinner Emily stands up from the table

and hugs her mother and brothers tightly before leaving to go back to base. she kisses her mother on the cheek and tells her that she loves her. she walks with Charles to his car and they drive off in silence. as they pull up to the gate, Charles turns to Emily and says, "you know, em, you're not just my sister. you're my best friend. and i want you to know that I'm always here for you, no matter what. if you ever need someone to talk to, or just want to hang out, you know where to find me." Emily smiles at him through her tears and says, "thank you, Charles. i feel the same way about you. and I'm always here for you, too. little brother. take care of everyone for me ok, and make sure to take care of your self too alright?"

He nods, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. They get out of the car and hug tightly once more before Charles heads back to his car. Emily watches him go, wiping away the tears that fall silently down her cheeks. Even though they're apart now, she knows that they'll always be connected.

As she walks towards the base, she can't help but feel a sense of determination growing inside her. She's going to make it through this, for her family, for Charles, and for their father who is always watching over them. She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and marches forward with renewed purpose.

Emily arrives at her barracks, dropping her duffel bag onto her bunk with a sigh. The familiar sounds of soldiers going about their duties fill the air, but she hardly notices them as she lies down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. .

The days blur together in a haze of training exercises and long nights. Emily throws herself into her work, determined to prove herself as a soldier and make her father proud. But even as she pushes herself to the limit, she can't shake the feeling that she's missing something important. Something that was once a constant presence in her life.

She tries to stay in touch with Charles as much as possible, sending him letters and care packages whenever she can. In return, he sends her stories about their mother and brothers back home, about their father's garden and the new puppy they've adopted. Their conversations are brief but filled with love and support.

soon Emily is off to Iraq to start her tour.

The days in Iraq are long and brutal. The heat is relentless, and the dust seems to get into everything. Emily spends most of her time patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for danger. At night, she huddles in her tent, trying to sleep amidst the constant hum of generators and the occasional gunfire.

She finds solace in the letters from Charles and her family back home. Their words are a lifeline, reminding her of the love and support that she has waiting for her when this is all over. In one particularly heartfelt letter, Charles tells her about a time when they were kids and they would go fishing with their father. They would spend hours by the riverbank, laughing and telling stories, and their father would always cook up their catch for dinner. Reading this, Emily feels a pang of longing for those simpler times.

As the weeks turn into months, Emily begins to see the impact of her service on those around her. She meets soldiers who have been through multiple tours, their eyes haunted by the memories of what they've seen and done. She tries to be strong for them, to be the steady presence that they can rely on, but sometimes she feels so young and inexperienced. She wishes she could talk to her father about it, but she knows he's not here anymore.

One day, as she's sitting in the makeshift chapel, writing a letter to Charles, she notices a familiar face in the corner. It's Sergeant Johnson, the veteran who has been giving her extra training. Something in his eyes tells her that he understands what she's going through, and without a word, he comes over and sits beside her. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the chaplain's voice as he reads from a worn book. Finally, Emily musters the courage to speak.

"Sergeant Johnson," she begins, "I don't know why you're even talking to me. I'm just a rookie, and I don't know half of what you've been through." He looks at her kindly, his eyes creased at the corners from a lifetime of smiling and frowning.

"Ah, Emily, you're not a rookie. You've been here, through this, just as much as anyone else. You're just new to it. And that's the important thing. You're here now, you're doing your job, and you're making a difference. You don't need to have been through ten tours to know that." He pauses, looking out the window at the dusty, barren landscape beyond. "Look, Emily, I've seen a lot of people come and go through here. Some of them…they just couldn't handle it. They couldn't find their footing. But you're different. You're strong. You've got a good head on your shoulders. and you have lead many tour to successes "

" So and with that me and the board have seen all the hard work and dedication you have put after each and every tour that we have decided to announce you as first lieutenant"

"Wait, what?!" Emily exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. "But I'm not even halfway through my tour!"

Sergeant Johnson chuckles. "Ah, you're a quick learner, that's for sure. But you've earned it, Emily. You've earned it ten times over. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side as my second-in-command." He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's go tell the others. They're going to be just as pleased as I am."

As they walk back to their base, Emily feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her. Excitement, of course, but also a deep sense of responsibility. She knows that she still has a long way to go, and that there are countless challenges yet to face. But with Sergeant Johnson's guidance and the support of her new family here in the army, she knows that she can make it through.

The news of her promotion spreads like wildfire through the base, and the looks of surprise and admiration on her fellow soldiers' faces are enough to make her heart swell with pride. She spends the rest of the day sharing stories and laughter with them, feeling more a part of this unit than she ever thought possible.

Emily is quick to write a letter to her family telling them of her promotion and how she is doing.

As the days turn into weeks, Emily finds herself growing more comfortable in her new role as first lieutenant. She spends countless hours planning missions and training exercises, pouring her heart and soul into making sure that her soldiers are prepared for anything they might face. Her father's words echo in her mind: "A good leader isn't born, Emily. They're made." And so, she strives to be the best leader she can be, learning from her mistakes and always seeking the counsel of Sergeant Johnson when she needs it.

The landscape around them slowly begins to change as the seasons pass. The once barren earth turns green with life, and the skies grow heavy with the promise of rain. Even in the midst of war, there is beauty to be found, and Emily takes solace in the small moments of peace that these changes bring. She finds herself thinking more and more about her family back home, and the day when she'll finally be able to return to them.

anyone a part two maybe????

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #leclerc siblings #army #family leclerc

65 notes · View notes

fariesoiree · 1 month

Text

caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.

highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.

“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”

you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”

maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”

“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”

maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.

with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.

it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.

“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”

you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”

although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.

“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”

“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”

you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.

“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.

instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.

“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.

“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”

you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”

you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.

by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.

you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.

you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.

a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.

pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.

your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”

quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he’s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.

he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”

“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”

you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”

quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”

you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.

“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”

“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.

“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.

“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”

you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”

the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”

“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.

“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.

he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”

you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”

that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”

you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”

“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”

“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.

it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.

you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.

quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.

hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.

as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.

you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.

you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.

you’re sick to your stomach.

“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.

“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.

“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”

you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.

“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”

“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”

hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”

you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you.

“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”

for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.

your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”

“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.” parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”

he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.

“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”

you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”

there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.

the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.

you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.

he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.

“are you mad at someone?”

you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”

“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.

“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.

“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”

the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.

hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”

you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”

“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”

“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.”

the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.

“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.

hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”

“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”

you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.

“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”

you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.

truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.

here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.

that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.

“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”

you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.

“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”

“promise?”

you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”

you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.

it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.

you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.

you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.

“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.

it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.

“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”

maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”

“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”

“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”

you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”

“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.

“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”

what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.

maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.

“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”

“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.

“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.

“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.

frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.

it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?

it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.

the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.

you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.

you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.

“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”

“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”

“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.

“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.

you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one, it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.

you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”

you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”

you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.

“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”

you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”

hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.

you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”

your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.

“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”

“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”

“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.

“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”

you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”

“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”

your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.

“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”

one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.

“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”

“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”

you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”

“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”

you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”

your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.

finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”

you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.

“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.

“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.

“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.

“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.

“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”

you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”

hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”

for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.

hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”

that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”

hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”

“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”

“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.

“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”

“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”

“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”

“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.

you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.

“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”

“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”

“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.

you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.

he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”

you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”

“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.

reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”

he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”

hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.

you shake your head.

hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.

it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.

you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.

“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”

you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.

“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.

you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.

your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.

hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.

“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.

they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.

your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.

“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.

“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”

“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.

hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”

if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.

that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.

with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.

he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.

hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.

once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.

“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.

he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.

you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.

his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.

it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately.

“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.

“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.

“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.

“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.

you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”

“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.

you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.

he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.

almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.

“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.

in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”

you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.

you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.

it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”

you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.

the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.

“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”

you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.

hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”

you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”

he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”

you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

77 notes · View notes

jaylleoo14 · 7 months

Text

An Octopus First Impression II

part I

His first proper introduction and your "first" impression

>GN!ReaderxAzul

A/N: This is starting off right where it was finished so please check out part I first to get better context ^3^ And yes, this one is much longer

[disclaimer] A certain someone can't take a damn genuine compliment 🙄 (okay but understandable)

[characters] Azul & a little of a jesting Jade

In all honesty, you knew who Azul was. Who didn't know the dorm leaders when they are the most prominent leading representational figures in each dorm? You've met some of them personally, getting to talk and spend time with them on not so irregular occasions. Sure you see them more than often compared to the others, but it differs and varies. It's usually expected for students to at least show some respect for the dorm leaders, I mean they are dorm leaders for a reason. Yet there really are some arrogant nobodies from time to time and it's only then the wrath of the dorm leader's power and authority gets put into action, reminding everyone just who they are messing with.

Azul was no exception. In your mind, he is a dorm leader, automatically making him more powerful than the average students here and has qualities fitting for this role.

There you sat with the poised man, sitting aside from you on your left as he sat with his back perfectly straight. His posture made you a bit self conscious so you fixed yourself up properly once you realized that your posture wasn't the best against the wooden back of the chair. Just by the way he was sitting and talking, the way he gestured and pointed, everything about him seemed to just radiate professionalism. The way he would explain terms or the events leading up to the main wars, what magic played into what part and so on.

How kind of Azul

Your thoughts are only interrupted for a moment when you think to yourself how kind Azul is, his willingness to help you with your studies. Once that thought is processed in your brain, it then goes back to listening and following along with Azul.

You nod along with his explanations, following where his pointer finger would end up on the pages and his little personal opinions of why things are the way they are.

"Hey Azul? How about we take a break? I feel like I kinda need it" A hand props up on your cheek as your posture goes back into a relaxed curve and your elbow propped on the table and you let out a little sigh. He continues to keep up with his prim sense of etiquette, pushing up the frames of his glasses.

"Why of course. I'm sure going over the material for about almost an hour straight must be daunting and draining for someone such as yourself. Though we'll get back into the lesson once 20 minutes has passed." He flashes a smile your way, a stark contrast to your more drained self.

Perhaps it was because this is the first time you and Azul have ever interacted with one another, but one of your first thoughts is rather if you'd prefer his tutoring or Riddles. As you consider it some more you think as of right now you'd rather stick with Azul because you're pretty sure Riddle is a bit fed up with you right now and you don't want to feel the pricks of the thorns from the rose.

"Hey Azul? Thanks so much for taking the time to help me out. I appreciate it" Clasping your hands as you stretch yourself out, he lets out an affirmation that it was no trouble at all.

There are a diverse set of students here at Night Raven College. To brute strength guys to the most pretty silver tongue guys out there. If it weren't for your careful judgment in knowing when and where to proceed you probably wouldn't have made it this far with your companion Grim by now. Pomifiore is known for its elegance, the dorm based on the tenacity of the Fairest Queen. The students residing there you'll see are full of fair skinned and perfect silky haired individuals, looking as if they are from the richest medieval fairytale books you'd read in dark romance.

You've never got the chance to properly look at Azul, the whole session's main focus being the studying part. So when you come to take in his features, you can't help but to take a moment and stare in awe at how handsome and dashing he was in an unobtrusive manner.

He's so pretty

The way his lips looked plush and prettily pink, is that his natural color? His eyes looked calculative and thinking, yet looking so enchanting. The mole diagonal under his lips, giving it a nice accent. Sure you've seen some fairly good looking people who don't belong in Pomifiore, but his fair clean and glistening skin and his perfect features could fool anyone into believing he was a part of that dorm if he were to wear the uniform. Vil will always be the fairest of them all, but something about Azul enraptured one's heart just as well. The tentacles pull at the heartstrings as it lays there beating in the grotto. His look almost humbling despite his beckoning alluringness, as if it could draw me into the depth of deep waters like a siren calling in passerby sailors.

"Prefect, may I ask why you were watching me during flight class?"

"What?" In real time, despite all these thoughts running in your head you could say that it lasted for only about a minute - which is long enough for him to be aware that you were clearly staring even if you were trying to be discreet about it.

You feel your cheeks turning a warm red, embarrassed by such a blunder. "Oh well, I mean I can't take flying classes so you know, whenever flight class is in session I'm usually in the back doing exercises. And during one of our joint sessions way back I saw a glimpse of you then"

"I see, what a terrible time to see me truly"

"haha, what do you mean? It was pretty f- ahem. I mean, I think despite not being the all time best at wielding the broom, your skills prove enough to pass the class"

"Don't think that I didn't catch what you were going to say '' A little scowl forms on his face and I cant help but to laugh a little instead of feeling intimidated.

"Sorry sorry. But at least you guys can ride the brooms, it looks fun." Your voice sounds a little left behind as you recall the memory. "Being magicless isn't all that great when everyone is in the air and you're the only one on the ground doing sit-ups"

A shiver runs up your spine just thinking back to Vargas impeccable-muscle brained shouts.

"As the kind hearted person I am I can say that I can sympathize with your situation prefect, i'm sure being magicless in an a magic-filled school has it's risks." Azul twists his upper body to face me, sharing indulgence in our conversation. "And as the benevolent man I am, my doors are always open thus you need any sort of assistance, I'd gladly like to help in any way possible"

He places those gloved hands of his on his chest to give off a welcoming presence, a charming smile to top it off.

How generous he is

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are Azul?"

Now it was Azul's turn to stumble. "What? Are you trying to ma-"

"Look I didn't mean to get you off guard like that, but I think you should just know that. Take my compliment as a thank you for your generosity."

Azul can only give you a suspicious look, as if you had some hidden intent or meaning to those words. His piercing gaze shooting you like a triton. It was a rather sudden change in topic, he cant help but assume something was up.

"You don't have to believe me, I'm just saying you're pretty jeez. Take a compliment will you? It's not everyday you get one"

Clearing his throat he straightened his posture which he didn't even realize faltered.

"Why then, thank you for the compliment, Prefect." Just barely a light hue of peachy pink can be seen on his ears, and you were right. It's not every day he gets compliments. Weird, why wouldn't he? He's so pretty.

Because this is an all boys school full of cocky bastards who can't compliment others genuinely for shit y/n. Of course, an inner sigh comes out.

"Why are you suddenly so awkward now?" A mirthful laughter springing passed my lips.

"I'm not being awkward in the slightest, perhaps you should be better at reading others before deducting a conclusion"

"Someone sounds defensive" You divert your eyes to look up to tone it as indirectness, leaning against the creaking wooden chair.

“And someone thinks they are being rather cheeky”

“Haha, no way! It was just a simple compliment. Did you want me to start teasing you instead and genuinely not mean it?”

“If you think someone such as yourself could tease me then you’d be terribly mistaken. I’d say you’re acting rather comfortable with me if you can so easily say such a thing.” Tilting his head up as an artful smirk paints his face, perhaps to better describe it better; a machiavellian one as his lips pursue to open to speak. “Comfortable enough to even shamelessly stare at me. But I am pleased to know my physical appearance is to your liking, Prefect.”

“I think it's normal to stare at pretty things though.” A lighthearted chuckle fills the air around me and I share a similar smirk to his, only this one was painted as amusement and playfulness. “Were you thinking you had something on your face instead? That would be a little entertaining to see you freak over that, if I were to say.”

He doesn't reciprocate the playfulness however and just shoots back a more stern face. “I see you are feeling rejuvenated enough to want to fool around now, I think that’s enough break time for you.” Readjusting his position he turns to flip the textbook page over and you can’t help but laugh a little.

He’s kinda funny

He’s smart

Almost endearing even

With a slight pout and a feigned whine you scoot up your chair to prop yourself better against the material laid table and lean in to ready yourself to listen and follow along with Azul. With your eye going back to their attentiveness on the book, darting back and forth to write and scribble in your notes, next to you a small smile creeps on Azuls lips. His cheeks slightly a little red; it’s shade comparable to one of a watered down crimson sunset sitting on the edge of the sea.

Pretty is what they think of me

You can say this study session went well as you both now exit the library, feeling not only drained but confident and pleased to have more self confidence in yourself now. It was not only productive, but you get the impression that your personalities interact with one another well.

Azul sees you off, insisting he were to personally escort you back to your dorm but you firmly decline. You deemed that it was already enough that he used up at least 4 hours of his time to use it to tutor you.

“I was born with legs, but not a brain big enough as yours to comprehend all of that material in one go or two. Have a pleasant evening Azul, I greatly appreciate your help,” hugging your textbook and notebook stuffed with writings and notes. You wave him goodbye as you walk off.

They have a better image of me now, good

Azul walks back likewise, in a better mood and his mind more at ease. Not only can he use that study session to pull out some favors from you but he was able to wash away that pathetic self of himself on the broom from your head. Killing two birds with one stone, how easy it was.

‘Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are Azul?’ your words echo like a ripple in his head. On the walk back he can only smile to himself remembering your words of what can be assumed of honesty from the heart and not some simple lip service to butter him up.

They are rather interesting. We got along better than I expected

Being able to make the Prefect indebted to him is a big score today, the reason why he’s in such a good mood - is what he’s telling himself. But the overly pleased and delighted air around him tells Jade that there is more to it when Azul begins to share the success of today, arriving back at the chic and sea-themed office.

“You seem to have enjoyed your time with the Prefect, Azul. Perhaps if you continue to accompany them they may drown you out with compliments and poke holes in your heart.”

Purposely saying that in a way which could be taken in two ways, selectively picking and choosing his words, Jade can only teasingly comment.

“I assure you it was all in my own self interest and benefit Jade. I don't let such words to affect me in such ways,” Azul combats his jesting with a serious look in his eyes. Jade can only chuckle a little, going along with Azul’s words to assure him that he meant no harm and it's back to work after spending so much time neglecting them.

“Of course. It would take some time to poke holes in three hearts instead of one after all”

There you were, lazing on your striped cushioned couch back at the shabby dorm which you can respectively say is your dwelling and your little companions, alongside the ghost who you’ve managed to coexist with dwelling there before you. Your notes are put away and neatly tucked in. Residing in the corner of your history notes, a little ‘he’s kinda cute’ is scribbled on a random page.

Not like he'll ever know though, right?

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twst writing #azul twisted wonderland #twst azul #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech twst #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #fluff #Azul needs some good smooches on his head #I DIDNT PROOF READ THIS SO ILL MAKE EDITS HERE AND THERE FROM TIME TO TIME 😭

210 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 2 days

Note

we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm

i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals

but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)

The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.

You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.

"Lex," you beam.

Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.

He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."

"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."

The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."

You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.

As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.

"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"

"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."

For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."

You lift your head. "I know."

"I like doing things with you."

The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."

Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."

Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"

He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."

"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."

You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."

When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."

You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."

You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."

Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."

Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."

He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."

"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."

With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"

You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."

Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

70 notes · View notes

sstan-hoe · 1 year

Text

◇ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 ◇

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — vampire!bucky barnes × human!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — you're his angel and he will love you for eternity, he does everything for you...it's time to return the favour

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — oral (m receiving), throat fucking, Bucky being just hot by making sounds, light praise kink, a bit mean Bucky?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, comment/follow | this is my first fic for the June-iverse Event and I'm very excited!!! I really wanted this to be good and hope its not a total flop! I had the words Shop, Angel, Vampire and Rich. I didn't really know what to do with shop so it's just there haha | would have posted earlier but couldn't find the email! stupid spam folder

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 — Alternate June–iverse | @buckybarnesevents

You twireld around in your white summer dress with a joyful giggle, it was one of your favourites and made you feel light on your feet.

The warm breeze flowed around you making a cosy feeling spread through your body. A few butterflies crossed your path, dancing along the sunbeams that let the world look healthier.

Bucky sat a little further away, watching you closely. Every move you made had his heart beating – if it could.

Once your gaze met Bucky everything went still, he looked powerful sitting in a black garden armchair. It seemed out of place with the setting of nature around it, but it suited your man’s dark demeanour.

Legs spread wide apart, body leaning back into the armchair as he rested his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes never left your body, you looked care free as if no one could do a thing to you – they couldn’t, Bucky made sure of it. All his mind could think about was what he did to deserve you.

Being alive for five hundred years and he never came across a woman like you, an angel. He loved calling you, his Angel.

You came and pulled him from the darkness, made the life he lived make sense. With you by his side he didn’t mind living forever, he would love you for eternity and that included if you died and he still had to live.

He tries avoiding that scenario and instead gently guides you into the life of being a vampire. It took him a while to adjust to the thought of turning you, becoming a vampire was a big decision to make and he wasn’t sure if you understood that. This was the reason why he wouldn’t turn you until you were at least twenty-five.

Back to the moment, you had broken Bucky from his thoughts as you skipped over to him, “what do you think?” you asked refereeing to the dress you wore.

“Mhm, I quite like it...easy access,” he purred, hands grasping your waist to draw you into his lap. The cool fingertips of his metal hand grazed your soft skin, a light shudder rolling down your spine.

You swatted his hand away which caused him to grip your chin with his flesh hand, “are you denying me what belongs to me?” he cocked his head to the side as if to challenge you.

“This dress is brand new, and I will not have you make it messy,” you scolded him playfully.

“Remind me, Angel, who bought this dress?” Bucky asked innocently, however his blue eyes betrayed him. You knew exactly how much he loved spending his money on you, most of the time without even asking if you wanted something. He just bought it.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back against his chest with a smile, “oh, well then I guess, I have to buy my dresses myself in the future…,” you knew how much Bucky disliked it if you bought something with your own money.

His eyes darkened, hands moving to your stomach as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Do that and I will have to punish you,” he whispered tickling you.

You squirmed with a squeak, “stop it!” trying to rip yourself from his grip on you. Bucky chuckled and continued tickling your sides, “I don’t think so, my little Angel,” he smirked teasingly. A wholehearted laugh escaped you at the feeling, squirming in his arms again, “Bucky, please,” you breathed out.

Bucky’s heart grew everytime he heard your angelic voice, his angel. Your laugh, your voice, something he would never get tired of hearing. He stopped and went to caress your clothed covered skin.

As you recovered from the torture of your love, Bucky had snaked his right arm under your knees to pick you up. With a surprised sound you were lifted and carried inside the house.

He walked with you into the bedroom, laying you onto the bed. His hands sneaked underneath your dress, but you sat up and stopped his hands. Confusion was written all over Bucky’s features, wondering if he did something wrong however you excited smile told him otherwise.

You slide towards him and his hand, pushing him back a little so you could stand up and guide him to replace you on the bed. Bucky sat down, hand still resting in yours as you got on your knees in front of him.

Oh, now he knew where this was going. His cock strained against his dress pants, you let go of his hand and moved it to stay on his side.

You trailed your fingers up to his belt which you unbuckled easily, fingertips stroking his covered cock. Bucky hissed at feeling, you barley gave him any fraction and he was already this responsive.

“Today, I want to return the favour and devour you,” voice just above a whisper had his member twitching. It should be a crime how sexy you were to him, a hoarse groan leaving his lips, “mhm, what a good Angel I have…then devour me,” a hint of begging danced at the edge of his voice, covered by the command.

Pulling his briefs down his hard cock sprang against Bucky’s abdomen, the few drops of pre-cum staining the blood-red dress shirt.

Your tongue darted out lick the pre-cum from his mushroom formed tip, the brunette drove his flesh hand into your hair trying to suppress the urge to shove his cock down your throat.

A smile spread across your face at his reaction, you let him take over the reign soon but not yet. Licking a long stripe along his length, you could taste the light saltiness which had you thriving.

The hand in your hair didn’t hinder you in teasing Bucky, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Gently stroking up and down, a way to feel every popping vein. One thick vein popped out, practically asking you to lick it.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned as he felt your tongue on the sensitive vein, hand gripping your roots.

You hissed at the sudden tightness in your hair, but damn did it feel good. You didn’t want Bucky to lose his grip on your hair hence why you closed your mouth over his angry tip.

At first, you gave him a few kitten licks before taking him completely down your throat – or trying to take him. His cock wasn’t particularly long but thick, it was difficult fitting all of it inside your mouth. You couldn’t take him any further down, a gagging noise erupting from your throat in protest.

The feeling of his tip hitting your maw had him moaning and his sounds encouraging you to try and take more of him. Never in your life did something turn you on as much as his noises he made while you gave him pleasure.

It was over for Bucky. He took control over you. His hand spreading over your scalp, gently massaging it before yanking your head back and taking you by surprise in the process.

“Enough of that little Angel, it’s time I take control,” the vampires voice was hoarse, you wouldn’t do anything to disobey him. Firstly, he guided his guided you back up to look into your eyes, they were filled with hunger and the need to be controlled.

This was the last soft eyes you received from Bucky before he had your head shoved down on his cock again. All the way down which tears to spring from your eyes, “fuck, show me those pretty tears,” he let his head fall back in pleasure.

He didn’t let you lift your head, instead he let you choke on his cock. A loud gagging sound ringing through the walls as he rolled his hips up.

The vibrations of your cries sending him closer to his high, “choke on my cock, little Angel,” Bucky purred as he kept his cock pressed against your throat. God, he wished he could stay in the warmth of your mouth forever, buried deep inside.

However, he was near his orgasm, he had to make a decision. Gently he thrusts your head up and down his hardened length. “You’re such a beauty when you suck my cock,” he praised you in a soft tone. Soon his pace picked up and drool escaped your mouth as you couldn’t control it anymore.

“God, I’m coming,” Bucky grunted moving his hips to meet his thrusts. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue, his release would drop over the edge every second.

Even though you were his angel, you could be a little devil especially when it came to teasing him. You hollowed your cheeks around him, a deep groan flowing past Bucky’s lips. As the grip on your head tightened you knew how close he was and what would tip him over.

While he desperately fucked your throat you sucked on the mushroom formed head. Bucky came, all over your tongue. Gasping and groaning as he watched you swallow all of him.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you, his sounds just felt different and had you clenching your thighs pathetically.

“Take it, take all of it Angel,” his metal hand came up to rest against your cheek as he slowly lifted your head from his cock. “Swallow,” was all he said, looking deep into your eyes and without hesitation swallowed the slightly salty yet sweet semen of Bucky.

A drop almost falls from the corner of your mouth, but Bucky swiped it away with his thumb. Laying his digit onto your tongue to give you every last piece of him.

After a delightful moan from you had Bucky thriving with pride. “Did such a good job, Angel,” you sat up onto his lap, his cock hardening again, “but I’m not finished with you...still have to make a mess of this dress I bought.”

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑾𝑶 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @broadwaybabe18 @waddlenut @buckymcu12 @witchybabel @daemonslittlebitch

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | I do have a taglist however it has conditions that must be followed — you can follow @sstanhoe-updates for updated without anything

#Connect4AU #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky barnes #vampire au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes events #my cat lover bucky 🦾🤍

440 notes · View notes

theostrophywife · 1 year

Text

ice cold kiss.

girl you play it all so sweet, but i bet you a goddamn freak

author's note: i have no excuse for this. just daydreaming about az and his rings.

song inspiration: wet by lauren sanderson

You perched your chin in one hand, sighing dreamily as you watched your mate pull his trousers on. Droplets of water slid down his torso, golden brown skin glistening from the shower the two of you had taken moments ago, taut muscles rippling with every motion. A silver chain dangled against his chiseled chest as he threw on a crisp button down, ornate rings glinting against his slender fingers as he busied himself with the buttons.

A flush crept up your cheeks as you recalled all the places that those hands have been in the past hour—tangling through your hair, slipping between your thighs, squeezing around your throat.

You bit your lip, feeling the sensations of the cold metal against your skin as your mate caressed you in all the right places. The shadowsinger’s silver rings glimmered against the soft faelights, every knuckle adorned with an assortment of accessories including a skull, a rose, a bat and your personal favorite, the signet ring that had your initials carved on its metallic surface.

Azriel caught your gaze in the mirror and raised a brow. “Don’t look at me like that, my love.”

A slow grin curled at your lips as you shifted underneath the sheets, silk pooling around your waist and revealing the lacy nightgown that barely covered your body. A strap fell over your shoulder as you cocked your head and feigned innocence. “Can’t a girl admire her mate?”

“Your mate is already half an hour late to meet his brothers, thanks to our little shower rendezvous,” Azriel mused, a slight smirk forming on his handsome face. “Rhys and Cas will never let me hear the end of it if I miss dinner again.”

You chuckled lightly. His brothers definitely teased you about the fact that you and Azriel couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other despite the fact that you’ve been mated for over a year. They found it amusing that the shadowsinger often showed up halfway through guys night out with sex tousled hair and swollen lips.

“Then by all means, let me help you baby.”

Azriel watched with bated breath as you rose from the bed, his heated gaze snagging on your soft skin and unbound hair. The cobalt lace adoring your body left very little to the imagination, the nightgown clinging to your soft curves. You pushed him down onto your vanity seat and began buttoning the front of his shirt. His body hummed as you stood between his legs, his hands lifting to your waist as he watched you with rapt attention.

The ice cold kiss of his rings brushed against your thighs and you shivered in response, leaning into your mate. Azriel cupped your cheek and you grinned, ceasing his hand and kissing his scarred fingers with such tenderness that it made his heart ache.

Your mate pulled you into his lap as you giggled, lips brushing against his knuckles. “You have such pretty hands, Az,” you stated, toying with the rose ring on his pointer finger. “I love when you wear all of your rings like this.”

“Yeah?” The shadowsinger rasped, his left hand sliding smoothly underneath your nightgown. “What do you like about them, angel?”

Your breathing slowed as cold metal snaked along your thigh. “I like the way they feel against my skin,” you confessed. “I like that they’re smooth and cool when you touch me. How they leave imprints when you spank me. How they make me dizzy with pleasure when you choke me. How they remind me of all the times we’ve lain in bed while you trace circles on my back as you hold me.”

Azriel groaned, kissing your neck as his large hand squeezed your breast. You released a breathy moan as your mate swept his fingers over your bottom lip. Your lips parted and you licked and sucked at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and lathering his pointer and middle finger as Azriel watched with pitch black eyes.

“Fuck,” Azriel whispered against your skin. “I need you, baby.”

It didn’t matter that you’d spent the whole day in bed making love or that you’d fucked in the shower not even an hour ago. It wasn’t enough and it would never be enough. Azriel wanted you—no, he needed you more than the air that he breathed. The shadowsinger was unbuttoning his trousers almost frantically, his erection pressing against your leg.

You chuckled darkly, gently tugging at his wrist. “What about Rhys and Cas?”

Your mate’s eyes flashed golden, capturing your lips in his with a kiss that took your breath away. He smirked when you gasped for air.

“My brothers can wait.”

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

#fret not i am working on something even filthier #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

716 notes · View notes

gyuvision · 3 months

Text

defense -> [back to masterlist?]

wc ; 0.8k - pairing ; team captain bf osaki shotaro x fem reader

summary ; when the opposing teams captain hits on you right before a game, its without a doubt shotaro will be there to defend you.

contains -> swearing, degrading/name calling, fluff, small angst

🏷️ - @llearlert

with your boyfriend being the university’s basketball captain and you being head of the yearbook department, of course you’d attend all his games. not just to get your job done but to support him in what he loves.

but there were some downsides, no matter how much or how little it would bother you. the amount of girls jealous and talking behind your back or the amount of guys thinking you could do better was way more than you could count.

so when the opposing teams captain asked you out you couldn’t say you were surprised, all you could do was smile and politely say no. but what you weren’t expecting was for him to immediately switch up and degrade you.

“you think you’re all that don’t you? you really need to be humbled if you’d even consider rejecting me.” he scoffed, looking around at his teammates for them to back him up.

“i have a boyfriend, i mentioned it earlier..” you mumbled.

“woah! the dumb girl’s got lip now doesn’t she? i bet your boyfriend’s a nobody anyway.” the guy mocked immaturely.

you didn’t know what to say, frozen in fear. what could you possibly say to a group of guys over 185cm with such a mean look on their faces?

it was as if your prayers were immediately answered when shotaro stepped onto the court and went to stay by your side.

“she said she’s taken didn’t she? it’s not her fault you can’t take no for an answer.”

the guy glanced down to shotaro’s jersey, reading his number ‘01’. “captain?” he scoffed. “and who are you to her?” he questioned, gesturing to shotaro who now had his arm wrapped around your waist.

“her boyfriend.”

shotaro may have been shorter than the other players, but his aura definitely was more intimidating.

“whatever. we aren’t done here.” he reminded, before taking his teammates to their locker room.

“are you okay? did they hurt you? what did they say?-” he asked worriedly until you cut him off with a hug.

“im okay. thank you. you’re timing is always perfect taro.” you smiled, pressing a small kiss into his cheek.

you cooed at how fast his face turned into a rosy color, heating up at your touch.

“im gonna go sit down. are you gonna win for me?”

“when have i ever lost?”

and he indeed did not lose. you loved how competitive your boyfriend was, but he was even more competitive today if it meant beating those other guys for you.

you took small snippets on your camera for the yearbook (and some for you) of shotaro stealing the ball and scoring a three pointer, ultimately winning the game just as the clock ran out.

you were even able to capture him running up to the bleachers so he could hug you as the reporter announced your school would be going to the semifinals.

shotaro would happily be at your defense if it meant you’d smile at him like that every time.

#locker room archives ! ★#gyuvision #gyuvision - riize #riize smut #riize x reader #shotaro smut #shotaro x reader

104 notes · View notes

nkogneatho · 2 years

Text

"𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘" - 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.

—cw: fem!reader, step-cest (characters are not blood related at all), daddy kink, cheating, soft sex, teasing, hint of pregnancy, a lil angsty ig.

—word count: 1.11k

—a/n: on my knees for soft gojo. I love him so much i swear. I hope you all enjoy it. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

#m.list #ko-fi #taglist #milfhub

Request: what if stepdad! gojo walked in on us trying on lingere for our boyfriend? would he just look or do smthg 🥵🥵 i love ur works the most its abt time i interact 😔

You were not really the type to often buy sexy intimates, but this time a particular piece caught your eyes when you were out shopping with your mom. You saw a mannequin wearing this perfect black lingerie with a soft net fabric.

Furthermore, you remembered catching your mom and your stepdad having a moment. She was flipping through a magazine and asked him if the content in it was good. He kissed her and told her that it was perfect. It was everything he wanted to see. The worst part is, you felt this odd jealousy creeping over you.

You remembered. It was the same lingerie. Something took over you once again, and you found yourself at the cash counter, paying for the lingerie you bought. I bet daddy would—I mean, bf/n would love to see me in this, you thought. You sprinted out of the store, clutching the bag close, all the way home.

As soon as your mom dropped you off home and went to work, you ran upstairs to try the clothes you bought. Or just one of them. You shuffled the multiple bags on the bed and pulled out the one you were looking for. Unwrapping it, you walked towards the mirror. You stripped your previous outfit, trying on the lingerie.

Just like you forgot to take the bill, you had been forgetting plenty of things lately. How you forgot to unlock the door. How you forgot that your stepdad isn't at work, but at home today. fuck. Your eyes wandered to the mirror and there he was, lustful gaze peeping through the gap.

Satoru had been standing there for quite a few time. He was originally there to borrow your charger, but he was surprised to see his daughter in such a slutty thing. His eyes widened for a second, but then quickly shifted to this sinful gaze. His cock twitched in his pants when he locked eyes with you through the mirror. To his surprise, you didn't freak out or moved away. Not even grabbed the sheet—which wasn't too far from your reach—to cover yourself. He took it as an invitation and entered your room.

“It's rude to not knock and peep,” your eyes still looking at each other through the mirror.

“It's careless to try on such a slutty piece of lingerie and leave the door open,” he smirked. He approached you, his hands rested on your shoulders, and you found yourself getting wet when his hard-on brushed against your ass. Is that it? Is that all it took for him to get hard? His step-daughter in a black lingerie that he likes?

He turned you, grabbed your chin between his pointer and thumb, making you look up at him. “So…who's the lucky guy?”

“Bf/n. But considering you saw me wearing it first, guess you're the lucky one,” you smiled.

“Trust me. I count myself the luckiest to witness this right here,” he said, rubbing your chin for a bit. You both kept staring at each other's lips until you broke the silence with an Oh just kiss me already.

His lips crashed on yours. It was harsh at the start, like he's been wanting to do this for a long time, but it got softer as time passed. He snaked his arms under your waist and thighs, picking you up and placing you on the bed.

He undressed. His abs were killing you. It reminded you of the time you walked in on him shaving shirtless and your eyes immediately traveled to his abs, wanting to touch it, but it would be inappropriate. It is still now, but you don't give a rat's ass. He is too good to not be fucked.

You reached out for his abs, brushing your fingers against them. He didn't question you. It only made him feel like he wasn't the only one feeling this.

You retreat your hands in an attempt to remove your bra as he removes his bottoms, but quickly a big hand is gripping your wrist tightly.

“Tsk tsk. Don't. You bought it for daddy, didn't you?” You nod. “Then let me see you being pretty in them while daddy fucks you, baby.”

He eyed your drooling pussy. It wasn't clearly visible because of the net fabric, but that was the tease. It turned him on. He grabbed a condom, and you saw him wear it, gulping at his size. If only my boyfriend could.

He stroked the tip against your clothed cunt. Fuck. You felt yourself getting hotter by the second, hands traveled to your breasts, playing with them. Since he asked not to remove it, you pinched your nipples through the black laced fabric. And god, you swore his cock throbbed when you did that.

He entered you slowly, stretching you out, and moved only after you asked him to. That made you think how gentle he is with you. Sure he is a tease at times, but he makes sure to provide you everything. He was there when you needed someone to go with you for a concert since your shitty friend canceled on you. He was there, providing you a shoulder when you were crying when your ex cheated on you. And now here he was again, giving you his cock, fucking you nice and slow. Just how you needed to be fucked.

It was a heavenly view for him. Watching his step-daughter play with her breasts, filthy moans leaving her mouth as he thrust into her. He was getting impatient, you could see it.

“Cum in me.” You grabbed his lips and whispered.

“What? N—no, baby. We can't do that.” There was something in his voice that told you he wanted to. But he was wearing a condom, right? So, you didn't see what was the problem.

“It's okay. We're playing safe. I need you to cum in me, daddy. So—Ah! Fuck. So fucking bad.” It suddenly clicked to him that yes, he was wearing a condom.

He rubbed your clit softly but in a faster rhythm. He didn't even hesitate to cum when he has your permission. He came first, and then you did when his hands never left your pussy. Milking his cock dry.

He pulled out after a few seconds, getting up to throw the condom, and you caught a nice view of his firm ass. It was a well-spent afternoon.

Until one-month later, you found yourself in a bathroom with crying. Satoru immediately ran upstairs to you. The door was unlocked (as usual). He entered, startling you. You looked up at him with wet eyes, and his widened when he saw the pregnancy test in your hand. Shit. It was positive.

Taglist: @hyenalite @vixan-ix @katsukichu @smoothy-ve @lillina @jjstsksen @tetsunormous @dukina @koifish69 @deartoru @bbytamaki @theaesthete @psycho-nightrose @kyanyakya @httptamaki @certified-dilfhunter @romiyaro @aasouthteranoswife @sunascumdoll @xxrwzy @xo-lynx @crtlove-com @mutsu422 @hollowpurpl @megumischubbycheeks @sleepy3 @sugarbooger513 @valhallawhispers @solar-starlight @lxlxthh @kirislilwhorewife @suguruwrx @svgarslut @dassmyname @chaotic-nick @crackheadwithtoes @lordbugs @hanmasbunny @jujutsukaisenfan @eyetachi @kawaiitoga @m00k83 @imvivian @hoe4katsuki @ryumiii @lumpywolf @stygianoir @kaylabee06 @luvjiro @vodkasjedi

2K notes · View notes

bakugosatoru · 4 months

Text

Pretty for the Press

Requests Open! Warnings: Graphic Smut (This is pure PWP smut, MDNI) Genre: Smut Fic Type: Medium Length Fic (4.5k Words) Fandom: My Hero Acadamia Ship: Dabi x Hawks Authors note: My first longer fic! I'm not sure how I feel about it but I like it enough that I do want to share it! I've been working on it for an embarrassingly long time so I hope you like it! Also Dabi is really soft in this and its a little out of character but oh well. Synopsis: Hawks has defected to the side of the villains and is now standing in the League of Villains hideout bathroom, and he needs a haircut. Dabi offers to help. What could go wrong.

Also here on AO3 if you prefer to read over there.

It isn't exactly the Marriott. The yellowing porcelain of the benchtops and the stained brown sinks work to remind him exactly where he is. The bathroom at the league of villains hideout. The porcelain is cool against his hands, his face leaning in towards the cracked and dirty mirror.

It's been three months since Hawk defected to the side of the villains, away from the world of heroes, the world of being a hero. So here Hawks stands, instead of his hero funded penthouse with the nicest things money can buy, he stands in a bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Tugging at the strands of his hair. He always forgets how quickly hair grows when not being cut every two weeks to keep up an appearance.

“So this is why you spend so fucking long in the bathroom huh? Damn you really love looking at yourself that much Birdie?”

Dabi stands, lounging against the doorframe dressed in black sweatpants and a ratty old tank top. Hawks scowls, wondering how long he’d really been there.

“Fuck off Dabi, was just trying to figure out which one of you psychos I’d trust with scissors to cut my hair” The ex-hero smirked, leaning back from the mirror to meet Dabi’s gaze.

“And what was the verdict?” Dabi mused as he wandered over to stand next to Hawks, whose wings quickly tucked into his body to make room.

Hawks didn’t answer, just going back to pulling and rearranging his hair before huffing and messily tying it back in a stubby ponytail. Dabi spun around and sat against the sink, watching Hawks intently. Hawks feathers puff and ruffle slightly, subconsciously, as he feels Dabis gaze dig into him. It's not often they get time alone together, usually they are either surrounded by other members of the league or fighting for their lives. Doesn’t exactly leave a lot of time for talking. Dabi picked up the discarded and rusted scissors off the counter and held them in front of his eyes, cutting at the air a few times for good measure.

“I mean, I could do it..” Dabi said, spinning the scissors around his pointer finger and tapping his other hand mindlessly against the counter.

“Promise I won't slice ya”

“Well that just fills me with confidence” Hawks scoffed.

“I mean, the offers there if you want. If you want to keep growing out your hair ‘till you start looking like a homeless guy hanging outside the headquarters that's your call Birdy”

Hawks paused for a moment, looking over at Dabi. Dabi glanced at him momentarily before returning his gaze to the scissors spinning in his hand. Hawks hated to admit that Dabi was probably his best choice. He couldn't trust Compress or Twice to just do a small trim (they always had a flair for the dramatic), Himeko might get a bit too snip-happy with the scissors and Shigaraki isn't exactly a big fan of… hygiene in general.

“Fine” Hawks huffed, finally leaning back from the counter.

“Yea?” Surprise painted Dabi’s voice as he hopped off the counter and strolled behind Hawks, yanking a cheap plastic chair over from the corner of the room and placing it right in front of the mirror.

“Well take a seat, get comfortable. Want me to wash your hair first, scalp massage maybe? Perhaps I should get you a cup of tea?” Dabi mocked in a sing-song tone.

“Oh please do, I expect only the best service from a stylist as famous as yourself” Hawks scoffed as he rolled his eyes. He sat down on the chair and leaned back, Dabi now towering behind him in the mirror. A moment paused between them as Dabi looked down at his hair, a hand reaching out gingerly to hold a few strands between his fingers, the back of his hand brushing against Hawks neck gently. Hawks felt a shiver pass through his body to the tip of his wings and he just prayed Dabi didn’t notice.

“Uh actually I might have to wash it…” Dabi mumbled, all the joking bravado in his voice replaced with a nervousness Hawks had never heard coming from the villain before.

“Hm?” Hawks questioned, tilting his head to look up at Dabi, seeing the living skin on his face dusted with a soft pink hue.

“It's just easier to cut wet hair.” Dabi said as he spun the plastic chair around, so that Hawks was now facing him, his back to the sink. Hawks' breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Dabi, who was leaning over to turn on the faucet. Was Dabi going to wash his hair? This really hadn't been how he expected this to go, he assumed Dabi would cut a few inches off his hair and be done with it, but this was a side of Dabi he hadn't seen before. A softer side.

“Okay lean back, the water shouldnt be too hot but my hands aren't exactly great for gauging temperature so if your skin melts off, not my fault.” Dabi said as he moved over to the shower in the corner of the bathroom and snatched up a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. Hawks leant back, awkwardly tilting his head under the faucet to line himself up so the water was in his hair instead of covering his entire face.

“Twice will kill you if he finds out you're going to use his weird expensive shampoo”

“No, he’ll kill you. You're the one using it, I'm just putting it in your hair” Smirked Dabi as he strolled over to the left of Hawks and reached into the sink to help rinse his hair. Hawks felt himself tense as Dabis fingers brushed against his scalp, before relaxing into the touch and letting his eyes shut to prevent getting water in them.

“So what about that tea you offered?” Hawks smirked as he felt Dabi pour some shampoo on his head and start massaging it into his hair. If he tried really hard he could probably pretend he was back in one of those swanky hair salons his agency used to send him to, but honestly? He preferred this, though he wasn't fully sure why.

“Hey what the-” Hawks sputtered as he felt water be splashed onto his face. Dabi laughed as Hawks wiped his eyes with his sleeve, opening his eyes to look up at Dabi. His mouth opened to scold him but he paused, Dabi had this mindless smile on his face, not one of his signature smirks, but a genuine smile.

Hawks hadn’t ever seen Dabi smile like this before.

“I was about to say you were good at this but after that I might have to retract that statement” Hawks teased.

“Aw c’mon Birdy, you like it”

“Yea I guess I do” Hawks said, his voice quiet, so quiet that Dabi nearly didn't hear him…. But he had heard him.

“I’m sure you had this done all the time when you were a hero” Dabi snipped, a strange venom in his voice, but Hawks just shook it off.

“Yea, too much actually. They would send me every few weeks to make sure my hair was always perfect. ‘Gotta keep up appearances’ they would tell me. So they’d send me to some overpriced salon and get me all dolled up for the press” Hawks sighed, remembering his old life wasn’t exactly his favorite pastime.

“Which do you like better?” “Hm?”

“Your old salon experiences or this one?” Dabi asked as he washed the last bit of conditioner out of Hawks hair and swapped to rinsing the hair clean. Hawks paused for a moment, staring up at Dabi.

“My old hairstylist was never so gentle” Hawks mumbled, still gazing up at him. Dabi tensed at his words, pulling his hands away and wiping them on a towel. Hawks scolded himself in his head, he was having the perfect moment with Dabi and he had to go say something stupid and spook him.

He opened his mouth to apologize, or try to play it off, or do something to turn back time to only a few moments ago, but he was stopped by Dabi’s hand resting against his cheek as he leaned in and began to softly dry his hair. Hawks leant forward so he was no longer halfway in the sink as Dabi gently dried his hair with the towel before using the towel to wipe away the water that had splashed on Hawks face.

“I'm sure your old hairstylist never did this either.” Dabi whispered as he placed the towel on the counter and leant down, cupping Hawks face in his hands and brushing their lips together ever so softly, as if asking for permission. Permission that Hawks was more than happy to grant as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Dabis neck, kissing him deeply. Hawks’ mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Never in his wildest dreams could he have expected this. Of course he liked Dabi, Dabi was strong, funny, passionate and beautiful. But Dabi was also, well, Dabi; he didn’t expect him to feel the same way.

“Well?” Dabi asked, breaking the kiss but not pulling away. Their lips softly brushed against each other as he spoke.

“Oh, huh?” Stuttered Hawks, every thought in his brain fully occupied with what had just happened.

Dabi chuckled softly, gazing at Hawks' kiss-drunk expression.

“Have any of your hairstylists ever done that before?” He smirked, kissing Hawks for just a moment before pulling back to allow him to answer.

“No, but I don't mind if this one does” He murmured, mustering every ounce of confidence in his body to stand up and pull Dabi back into a scathing kiss, his hands gripping his black spiked hair, being careful not to pull any staples or hurt the scarred skin. Hawks was usually good at this kind of thing, being a confident hero was all part of his image. Swooning the ladies, charming the press, it was second nature to him. But this? This was different, he had never felt so exposed, he was laying himself bare for a man who he had assumed wanted nothing to do with him. He was offering himself to Dabi, and if Dabi pushed him away now? He would never recover.

But Dabi took his offer

“Wanted to do this for months” Dabi whispered against Hawks lips. Scarred hands gripped his thighs and lifted Hawks up onto the bathroom counter. The plastic chair clattered to the side as Dabi stood between Hawks thighs, kissing him deeply. One of Hawks hands began to tug at the hem of Dabis' shirt. Dabi lifted his arms, allowing him to lift the shirt over his head and toss it to a corner of the bathroom. His hands began to trail along his scarred chest, his finger gently tracing the seams between scarred and living skin. For the first time, Dabi seemed to pull back, breaking the kiss and turning his head to the side.

“You okay? Does that hurt?” Hawks quickly started to pull his hand away but Dabi grabbed it and placed it back on his chest, holding it there and squeezing it slightly.

“No it's fine, just… been a while since anyone touched them, I guess; weird feeling. Just…keep going” Dabi sighed, his head dropping against Hawks shoulder, his hand dropping to the birds thigh as he began kissing along his neck.

“Okay” Hawks whispered, his hands dragging along Dabi’s chest, dragging down towards the hem of his sweatpants, mindlessly fiddling with the drawstring for a moment as he felt Dabi bite down against his neck, licking at the indent left behind.

“Shit- Dabi” Hawks hissed, his hips twitching.

“Your room, now, please”

“Don't gotta tell me twice songbird” Dabi hummed, stepping back and dragging Hawks off the counter.

Songbird… Hawks liked that one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hawks got the wind knocked out of him as Dabi slammed him against the now closed door to his room. He was going to wake up the entire League and he truly didn't seem to care. Because he finally had that stupid bird in his arms.

“Do you know how long i've been trying to get your attention?” Dabi growled against his ear, his hands grabbing Hawks waist. Hawks let out a whine, flattening his chest against Dabis.

“So fucking pretty birdy, everyone wanted to be with the hero Hawks hm? Fucking sucks for them all, ‘cause I get villain Hawks and he is so much better.” Dabi used his grip on the ex-heros waist to push him towards the bed, shoving him backwards. He fell back, his wings splaying across the bed. Dabi couldn't help but smirk. Laid out just for him. He crawled over and straddled Hawks, before leaning forward to catch his lips in a kiss once again, their hips rolling against each other sloppily. They were making out like two teenagers and they couldn't care less. Hawks broke the kiss for a moment to rip his own shirt over his head, but it took a little longer as he had to slide his wings out of it, which Dabi thankfully helped with.

“Always wondered how those wings got in the way of getting dressed, guess now I know” Mused Dabi, his thumbs rubbing circles in Hawks thigh.

“Heh, yea, just as cumbersome as you would think” Laughs Hawks as he finally manages to escape his shirt, launching it across the room.

Dabi paused for a moment, his hands now pressed flat against Hawks chest as he shifted his weight, sitting on his lap.

“Well Birdy, how do you wanna do this?”

“I mean, being on the bed is a good start…”

“No you dumbass,” Laughed Dabi.

“Do you wanna top or bottom, I don’t mind either, I mean I usually top but I could be convinced to switch…I just need to touch you” He hummed as he dragged his nails across Hawks chest.

“Oh yea.. um” Hawks paused, his heart leaping into his throat as he looked at the ceiling, his face going bright red.

“Songbird?” Dabi paused, his hands flattening out to gently rest against Hawks hips.

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I didn't mean to…” Dabi trails off, self doubt filling him. Did he force Hawks into this? Hawks was probably grossed out. Was it his scars?. Dabi's mind raced a hundred miles an hour as he slowly went to climb off Hawks lap.

“No No it's nothing like that” Hawks exclaimed with a slight panic, his hands pulling Dabi back to his lap. He paused, Hawks entire face was burning red.

“I've just… fuck this is embarrassing. I've never done anything like this… before?” He mumbled, his eyes still avoiding meeting Dabis at all cost.

“What? Really? This is your first time with a dude?” Dabi exclaimed. He didn't mean to sound so surprised but, the number 2 hero? The professional flirt? Had never been with a guy?

“No not just with a guy” Hawks whispered, he looked like he wanted to curl in on himself until the world itself disappeared.

“Birdie, you a virgin?” Dabi asked, surprise lacing his voice.

“Yea…. The commission didn't exactly like letting me out of their sight and dating or hookups were out of the question so…” Hawks shrugged.

Dabi paused for a moment before reaching a hand out and gently tilting Hawks chin down so their eyes met.

“Songbird, do you want to do this?” He asked, his voice that soft whisper from before that made Hawks heart melt.

“Mhm”

“I need words, Birdy.”

“Yes,” Hawks said before kissing Dabi softly. There's no one else he'd rather have his first time with. He threw his old life away to join the league, but deep down, he threw it away to be near Dabi, he wanted a new start, he wanted to do all the things he could never do, and if one of those things is getting railed by his hot edgy villain friend? Then he was going to do it.

“Alright then Songbird, here’s what we’re gonna do, you're going to leave everything to me, I’ll take the lead and take care of ya’. Any point you wanna stop, just say the word and we will.” Dabi smiled, that sweet smile again. Hawks would trust this man with his life… ironic considering their past. Dabi hooked his fingers into the loops of Hawks pants and worked to pull them off his legs. Hawks lifted his hips so Dabi was able to fully free him, his boxers doing absolutely nothing to hide the shape of his arousal straining against the fabric.

“This hard for little ol’ me Birdy? I’m flattered” Dabi teased, his mouth latching to Hawks exposed collarbone as one of his hands gave Hawks a light squeeze over his boxers. Hawks opened his mouth to reply, but he was only able to muster a whispered whine as Dabi set his mind racing with just a few touches.

“Fuck, your voice Songbird” Dabi groaned as he pulled back for a moment, quickly ridding himself of his own sweatpants. He grabbed Hawks hand and pulled it to feel against the growing bulge in his boxers.

“Feel what you do to me baby?” Dabi asked, Hawks didn’t respond, his hips shifting as he fought to get any friction against the growing desperation between his legs. Dabi smirked. Watching Hawks get so desperate before even getting his boxers off was driving him crazy. Dabi finally gave Hawks some respite, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and pulling them off him, his cock red and the tip wet with precum.

“Lie back for me okay? I’m going to make you feel so good” Dabi murmured as he tilted Hawks back on the bed before positioning himself between Hawks legs. He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the small bottle of lube he kept there for… personal reasons. He quickly discarded his own boxers before pouring some of the lube on his fingers and warming it up.

“This might feel weird at first but I promise it gets better” Dabi said as he dropped his slicked up finger down between Hawks legs, gently circling it around the rim before pushing it in softly. Hawks let out a hiss as his body got used to the strange intrusion. Dabi leaned forward and kissed along his collarbone in apology as he began to work his long finger in and out. He kept going until he was sure that Hawks was ready.

“Shit” Hawks moaned quietly as Dabi slipped a second finger into him, moving them around and scissoring them apart gently, working him open.

“Oh just you wait Songbird” Dabi smirked as he started to move his fingers slightly deeper, moving around, looking for that spot that would make his Birdy see stars.

“Fuck Dabi!” Hawks clenched around his fingers as he moaned loudly.

There it is.

Dabi let out a chuckle as he slipped a third finger into Hawks, loving how the ex-hero had begun rocking back onto his fingers. He kept working him open, making a conscious effort to only brush against his prostate once and a while, as to not end their fun too early, it was the birds first time after all. Hawks moans grew louder as Dabi continued to fuck into him with his fingers, his lips attacking any blank patches of skin across the birds chest, covering him in hickies. They would definitely have some questions to answer from the rest of the league tomorrow but neither of them could care at this moment.

“Dabi, fuck me please, I can’t take it anymore” Hawks whined out, his hand gripping against his partners scarred shoulders.

“Well how could I say no to that pretty voice baby?” Dabi purred out, but his mind was anything but calm. He didn’t realize how much of an effect Hawks voice had on him, he was shocked he didn’t cum right on the spot from hearing him beg, he was even more shocked he had just called Hawks baby. But no time to unpack that right now, right now all he needed was to get inside the stupidly sexy bird hero strewn in front of him. He quickly poured some more of the lube onto his hand, stroking his neglected cock a few times. He locked eyes with Hawks, the ex-hero was breathing heavily, his eyes watching Dabi hungrily, his whole face and neck bright red, besides the patches of hickies that were already starting to turn purple. Every breath seemed to send a quiver through each and every one of the feathers that sprouted from his back.

“Deep breath for me Birdy” Dabi pushed Hawks thighs apart as he lined himself up between his legs and slowly began to push inside.

“Holy shit”

“You okay? Need me to stop?”

“Stop and I’ll rip your dick off”

Dabi let out a laugh that quickly tapered into a groan as he bottomed out inside Hawks. He paused for a moment, his thumbs rubbing circles in Hawks hips, in an attempt to give the bird a moment to adjust. Hawks quickly let out a frustrated chirp and began to rock himself back against Dabis cock.

“No fucking patience” Dabi smirked as he slowly started to thrust into Hawks, not wanting to be too rough and hurt the poor bird. He dragged his nails up and down Hawks chest and shoulders, worshiping his toned body and the way his feathers quivered every time he brushed them with his fingers. But it wasn’t enough for Hawks, he wanted more. Don’t get him wrong, he was very thankful that Dabi was being so gentle and patient, but he didn’t want gentle, he wanted Dabi to make sure he never forgot this feeling. He wanted Dabi to make him scream. He rocked his hips impatiently back into Dabi’s thrusts, willing him to speed up.

“More Dabi, please” Hawks pleaded again, in that begging voice that Dabi couldn’t resist.

“Your fucking insatiable” Dabi chuckled darkly.

“Here I am, trying to be a gentleman” He slowly pulled out, until only the tip was still in.

“Be nice and gentle for your first time, but I think you just want me to fuck you into this mattress… isn’t that right Birdbrain” Dabi quickly slammed back into Hawks, yanking his thighs to bring them flush against each other. Hawks let out a choked moan, nodding eagerly as Dabi set a brutal pace, using Hawks hips and thighs to yank him back to meet his thrusts. Moans began spilling out of Hawks mouth completely unashamed, his hands gripping into the sheets for any kind of support as his body shook with each of Dabi’s thrusts. Dabi reached up and grabbed Hawks face, yanking him into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of the whimpering bird's mouth.

“Fuck me your tight” Dabi growled against Hawks lips.

“Your jus -fuck- just big” Hawks choked out between his moans, eliciting another laugh from Dabi. He gritted his teeth, still slamming his hips roughly into his whimpering Birdy. Dabi really didn’t want to cum first but fuck did Hawks feel fucking incredible.

“Hey Birdy, roll over for me okay, wanna try something” Dabi said, pulling out and helping Hawks roll onto his stomach, his wings splaying out into the air after being cooped up against the bed for so long. Dabi slowly pushed himself deep back into the ex–hero, Hawks letting out a satisfied coo as he felt himself be filled again, this position making it feel even deeper. Even more intense. Hawks lifted his hips up, leaning forward on his knees, arms folded on the bed, his head resting against them. His ass on full display.

“Fuck Birdy, you’re gonna be the death of me” Dabi growled out as he returned to the brutal pace he had started before. Hawks kept up his chorus of moans, whimpers and chirps as he felt Dabis cock hit his prostate head on, this position making it even harder for him to keep it together.

“Dabi” He stammered through his whimpering tears “Not gonna last”.

“Gonna cum for me Songbird? Need to feel you clench around me, come on baby” Dabi cooed, one of his hands snaking down to Hawks dripping neglected cock, stroking it roughly in time with his thrusts, while his other hand grabbed the base of his wings roughly, his fingers curling and tugging on the sensitive feathers.

“Agh- Fuck Dabi!” Hawks let out a litany of loud moans and whines as his back arched into Dabi’s touch, his climax hitting him at full force, painting his stomach and the mattress with his cum.

“That's it Songbird, just a little more, you're squeezing me so tight… shit” Dabi gasped out between gritted teeth as he felt Hawks climax rack his body. Both his hands shot to the base of Hawks large wings, gripping them tightly as he hit his limit. He collapsed forward against Hawks back and wings as he came, filling Hawks as deep as he could. Hawks mewling and chirping from the overstimulation.

They laid there, both desperately trying to catch their breath. Dabi using the last of his energy to pull out, earning him a quiet whine from Hawks, and flop to the side of his sweet, exhausted bird (being careful not to crush his wings).

“C’mere birdy” Dabi mumbled, yanking the tired bird onto his chest, allowing him to nuzzle into the crook of his scarred neck, a hand gently running over his sides and the tips of his wings. The large wings had curled around the two of them, covering them both in a soft red canopy.

“You good?” Dabi asked, turning his head to press a kiss onto the side of Hawks head.

“Mhm, so good” Hawks sighed, his words muffled by Dabis' shoulder. Dabi lets out a relieved breath he didn't realize he was holding and wraps both his arms around Hawks waist tightly, kissing the top of his head.

“You know, we still have to cut your hair, Songbird” Dabi mused, resting his head against Hawks’.

“Can do it tomorrow, don’t wanna move” Hawks whined.

“I have a feeling we’ll be a little busy tomorrow” Dabi smirked.

“Why? I didn't think we had a mission” Hawks asked, suddenly much more conscious.

“We don't, but Birdy, you just moaned on my dick loud enough that I'll be shocked if anyone didn’t hear it. We’re gonna have some questions to answer” Dabi laughed, rubbing Hawks back as he saw his neck and ears turn red.

“Shit…” Hawks let out a groan. He had forgotten about that… tomorrow was going to be a long day. Dabi let out a laugh, hugging Hawks tightly to his body.

“A problem for tomorrow Birdy, get some rest for now” Dabi sighed, pulling the blanket over the two of them and relaxing back into the mattress, clutching his Birdy closely to his chest. He finally had him, he wasn't going to let him go any time soon.

#my hero academia #hawks smut #dabi smut #hawks x dabi #mha smut #my hero acadamia smut #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #keigo takami #toya todoroki #hawks #dabi #dabihawks #dabihawks smut #NinesWritings

71 notes · View notes

eloisegrant · 2 years

Text

Just a Reminder (smut)

A/N: y’all loved my “Unexpected” story, so I am happy to share more of dom!Steven content. This is a bit long because ya girl got carried away.

Pairings: jealous!dom!Steven Grant x F!Reader, mentions of Marc.

Summary: Steven gets jealous and reminds you who you belong to.

Warnings: Explicit content, MINORS DNI. For real. jealousy, teasing, dominating, grinding, multiple Os, oral giving, oral receiving, unprotected p inv, implied breeding

Word count: 5.1 k. Yes.

18+ only Minors DNI

It was fun to play around with your soft and fluffy boyfriend. He wasn’t a jealous type, at least he never showed it before. Tonight you were invited to a friend’s party, and naturally you assumed it was a plus one. So, you brought your dearest Steven. Hand in hand, taking the lift to your friend’s flat, you could hear the music boom out through the hallway of the destination’s floor.

“You alright, love?” Your other hand softly massages Steven’s chest as you noticed his stiff stance. He nods sternly at you, he wasn’t the type to go out on social gatherings because he usually preferred staying home or spending time with a select few. Especially you.

“A bit fazed but I’ll be fine, darling.” He smiles down at you, reassuring that he’s not something to worry over. Your hands finally come off his chest and knock on your friend’s flat.

In about five seconds the door opens to an array of lights flashing through the darkened flat. A few yellow lights setting the mood on top of the multicolored LEDs. “Babes! You made it! This must be the boyfriend?” Your friend flashes a big smile, opening her arms to invite you in. Her pointer finger directs to Steven.

Proudly, your arm snakes around Steven’s arm, “This is he.” You look up at him, making him glance down at you with a nervous smile.

“Well, come on! Help yourselves.” She adjusts herself to the back of the door to let you both in. Steven holds you tight with his arm, keeping you close to him.

As the night progressed, Steven began loosening up. You watched by the kitchen as your boyfriend conversed with a few other of your friends, absolutely enthralled to see him out of his shell.

“Yeah, no, working at the museum has its perks- for instance the size of my workspace…” You could hear his voice from where you were, audibly giggling at your sweet Steven finally opening up. Even if he is still a tad bit awkward.

Out of nowhere, one of your friends taps you from the side. “Hey doll, been awhile.” His sudden approach shocks you and makes you jolt a bit since you were distracted with watching your boyfriend.

“Oh my God Paul! You scared me!” You laughed and extended your arm for an embrace with your drink in hand. Paul was an old colleague from work who transferred about two months ago. It was nice to see an old face again.

“Sorry, sorry, was just saying hi to everyone again. Seems like I am an outcast now.” He jokes around, leaning into you as his hand propped himself up on the kitchen counter.

Getting lost into the conversation with Paul, you didn’t notice Steven’s slight confusion and borderline insecurity that was boiling. The flat had an open layout, so his view was in direct line with you. You. Oh goodness why was this man touching your shoulder like that? Why are you laughing like that? Why is he whispering to you? Did he just see you blush? He’s probably seeing things, isn’t he?

I mean it isn’t Steven’s fault really. And it's not like he doesn’t trust you, he does. He doesn’t trust the people around you. In this case, that man who’s looking at you up and down. Unbeknownst to Steven, you didn’t look at Paul as a potential interest but just an old friend. But what did Steven know? This guy is giving you a look that he does not like.

“So Steve, when did you and y/n start dating?” A voice peers in from the circle he found himself in.

“It-its Steven. Not Steve. And uh- excuse me.” He stands up and walks towards you gaining the courage to approach this fuck who kept looking at you like you were a piece of meat. I mean who wouldn’t look at you while wearing that beautiful skin tight dress? Sure it was casual but you made every piece of clothing look and exude class.

As he reaches closer he gets a better glimpse of the man and a better jist of the conversation. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” Upon hearing those words from the guy’s mouth his ears pang with a hint of jealousy. Who was he kidding? A load of jealousy. He usually kept his jealousy hidden but the alcohol is kind of influencing his emotions— making him a bit more comfortable with his confidence.

Quickly he approaches you from behind and wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your right shoulder. “Oh hi, darling.” Your soft voice reaches his ears and he’s almost calmed. Almost. Unfortunately, Paul was there. “Steven, love, this is Paul. An old friend.” The man extends his hand to shake his and Steven reluctantly accepts. Removing his embrace to stand close beside you. “And Paul, this is Steven, my beloved boyfriend.” The two share a glance at each other. Almost like a stand-off but both try to play it cool.

Your eyes look up at Steven who you were very happy to be close to. “Glad you’re having fun, love.” You praise his confidence with the inner circle that formed around him a while ago.

“Yeah it's nice,” His tone almost ignored what you just said, jittering at the situation. “…We should go though, darling. It's getting late.” Steven points at the clock showing the time. 1:30 AM. Before you could respond, Paul answers in what Steven describes as cocky as ever.

“Oh come on, y/n! I just got here and we haven’t even drank together yet.” Paul’s eyes teeter between you and Steven. His reply makes Steven internally scream and externally fume. Who the hell did he think he was? He didn’t know it then but his face was slowly turning red out of disdain towards Paul.

Your eyes look at Steven who is tight lipped and abruptly grabs a beer can from the opposite counter, opening it with ease. He gives it to Paul and with a sarcastic tone speaks, “There you are. Y/n, darling, drink your cup.” He gestures to you to tilt your cup. “And you, do the same.” He gestures the same to Paul.

Both you and Paul awkwardly gulp a small sip from your drinks. You noticed Steven’s demeanor and immediately knew that he was not feeling this interaction whatsoever. He was demanding, more authoritative. It was a different type of hot than you were used to.

Once done, Steven grabs you by the waist. “Alright, you have drunk together… Love, let’s go.” Desperate to get you out of that place and away from Paul. He was obviously into you and didn’t give a flying fuck that Steven was wrapping around you. I mean one should have some respect for a man and his woman.

“Wait- Y/n, what’s your number so we could-“

“Sorry mate, we’re late for something. Maybe next time, yeah? Yeah next time.” He pats Paul by the shoulder almost roughly, trying to eye him down, maybe he would read the damn room and back off. But he was persistent.

“I think that’s for y/n to decide, mate.” He pushes Steven’s hand off his shoulder. Moving towards him while Paul cocks his head to the side. Paul’s poor attempt in intimidating Steven.

Steven smirks at the mere audacity that this man was demonstrating. Sure, Steven was often this soft person. usually kept his mouth shut. But, he was also the person that convinced a literal Egyptian God to set him and Marc free. “Do you really want to overstep, mate?”

You thank your stars that the apartment was flooded with noise and half-awake drunk people— no one could hear or see what’s happening. You decided to step in before someone gets hurt. “Actually, Paul, I am getting quite sleepy. And you don’t need my number, you have my socials.”A sweet smile pops through your cheeks as you grab Steven by the arm. “Let’s go?” He looks to you with a sense of relief through his eyes and nods. Of course he had to look back at Paul with the most smug face he could put on.

And in a flash, you guys exit the party, back into the quieter and brighter hallway. A big contrast from the party.

You lean your head against Steven’s arm, a warm fuzzy feeling forming inside you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered and admire the fact that Steven was obviously jealous. Very willing to show someone that you're his and he’s yours. So you decide to ask as you guys get on the lift.

“Aren’t we gonna talk about it?” Your voice causes him to shiver. Embarrassed that you were going to be angry or disappointed in him for acting like how he did.

“Talk about what?” He tries to cover it up and leave it in the past. No mention of the issue in this case would keep it out of mind. But you knew better.

You jokingly pat his chest, “Baby, you know what- Paul…?”

“That knob? Why would you wanna talk about him?” His insecurity was slowly peeking through and you could tell by the way his jaw was clenching.

“No darling, I wanna talk about why my boyfriend was jealous.” The lift doors open to the ground floor making you both move out to the streets of London. Cold and lonely.

“Was not.” He calmly states as you latched onto his side.

“Totally was.” You tease back, an albeit, adorable smile peeks through those lips as you look at Steven. He tries his hardest to not look at you but it was quite hard.

Instead of answering Steven stayed silent and stern. You could have sworn Marc took over from that point in time but Steven spoke otherwise. “Let’s just get home…” His strides were bigger and faster. Your shared apartment was a few blocks away so walking was fine.

As Steven unlocks the flat, he hurriedly goes in. You follow, almost confused why he’s still acting like this even though nothing happened between you and Paul. You even shut Paul down.

But alas, Steven was being eaten by his inner demons and his alter wasn’t actively there to talk him out of it. So he stood by Gus the Second’s fish tank, feeding him aimlessly. Maybe you wanted to be with Paul and you just so happened to pick him. Maybe if he hadn’t stepped in, Paul would have taken advantage of you. All these raunchy and untrue thoughts crowded him so much that he didn’t notice you standing by his side.

His brows were furrowed. Staring at Gus eats the tiny pieces of fish food very intently. So you decide to fill the empty air. “You know Gus will eat all that, you don’t have to watch him.” Nothing. Steven was just standing there.

“Did you want to talk more to him?” Steven tilts his head to look at you. He was a bit too clouded in judgement since he was still focusing on Paul.

“No. I was honestly watching you the whole night.” You were being truthful. Steven was shining for the first time, in what seemed like forever, and you couldn’t help but fall deeper into him as he lit up the party.

“He probably… wanted…you.” You hear him mumble something under his breath, making your brows spring up.

“What was that?” You ask him again to get a better sense of hearing and understanding of what he was saying.

“I said…” Steven stood upright and looked down at you, “He… probably… wanted… to… fuck… you.” He almost spits the words out. They were silent but very impactful. With each word he closed the gap between the two of you.

You were a bit taken aback with Steven’s sudden choice of words and confirmed the relentless display of jealousy tonight. Also, you were a bit offended. “Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you. I don’t trust that idiot.” He answers almost immediately, his eyes focus onto yours and they are quite different from what you were used to seeing. They were not soft, they were intimidating and filled with what seemed to be rage. But it was slowly turning into lust. “You are mine. Right?” His statement ended unsure. Still insecure.

“Steven of course. Please, darling, don’t ever think I would choose him over you.” You cup his face softly, causing his features to melt onto your palm. “Or anyone for that matter. I’m all yours.”

“All mine.” He nods into your touch, pulling you in by the waist. Your hips nearing one another.

“I gotta say love… seeing you jealous and protective like a while ago was… it was hot.” You admit as you pull him down to your lips. You can’t help but get a bit turned on with the idea of Steven taking this alpha type of behavior into your sex life.

And just like you, Steven was in a mood too. A mood to mark you, show you and remind you that no one else is to touch your body but his hands. No other cock is supposed to go into that tight wet pussy except for his. So when you openly admitted your attraction to the situation, he took it as approval.

“You do, hm?” His hand slides to your ass cheek, taking it into the palm as his fingers squeeze. The mere pressure makes your lips part in an ‘o’ shape as a small squeak escapes. “Little princess likes being fought for hmm? She likes seeing me fend for our relationship, doesn’t she?” At this point, both his hands were massaging your ass cheeks, as you lifted yourself up on your tippy toes. The vulgarity of his words was so new and so bad. Why did it have to feel so good?

You nod softly as you lift your lips up to kiss him again. This time more passionate, like the only thing giving you oxygen were his lips. His hand kneaded your ass and the feeling was definitely getting you excited.

“Darling, you should have known better and left him the moment he started.” He speaks in between kisses as his hands leave your bum and slide up and down your sides. “Or did you purposefully want me to get jealous?” Removing his lips from yours, he moves it down to your chin, then your neck and your collarbones.

“I wasn’t.” You shakily responded, allowing your body to feel and melt into Steven’s touch. His hands support your back as his kisses lower to your chest.

“Is that right, love?” Steven stops softly kissing your upper body to look you in the eyes. A smirk formed around his mouth. “I don’t believe you…” His nose pushes against yours as he snarls those words.

“Absolutely not, Steven. I wasn’t flirting back.” You managed to let your voice be heard because Steven shouldn’t be let to believe you were intentionally trying to make him jealous.

Instead of answering, Steven’s other hand places itself on your neck. Light enough to make sure you didn’t choke, yet hard enough to place pressure. “But he was definitely flirting tonight… wasn’t he?” His lips were so close to yours yet so far away. You cursed yourself for the heat and wetness that was forming in between your thighs. Steven’s fluffy and sensual sex tactics were completely gone.

“I think-“ He tightens his hand before you could complete your sentence. Surely, leaving visible hand marks for tomorrow.

“I mean who wouldn’t flirt with you? Hmm? Your ass and breasts were just begging to be touched. No wonder Paul was trying to get into you.” While his other hand situated on your neck, the other made its way to the hem of your bodycon dress, just above the knee.

“My darling was just begging to be fucked by another man… wasn’t she?”

“No!” He loosens his grip around your neck, curious to know what you were about to say. “No, Steven. i just want you. I wanted you to fuck-“

“Oh so you wanted me to get jealous so I could show you how to get fucked like the little whore you are?” Steven's hand around your neck moves down to your tits, massaging them through your dress and bra. The other slightly lifts your dress so he could access your heat, feeling the warm and soft skin. “You can’t lie, darling. You’re soaked.”

You whimper as Steven’s voice lowly whispers into your ear. “Have you been soaked all night, you naughty girl?” He playfully asks as he looks into your eyes. Still toying with your breasts while his finger slides your panty to the side. Feeling your wet lips.

“I- I can’t help it.” You admit. Making Steven remove his touch from you, visibly, you were distraught. Wanting his touch.

“Because of Paul?” His insecurity beaming a bit again.

“For God’s sake, no! I want you. Please. I sound like an absolute disaster right now but, I want you!” You were pathetically begging. “Paul is nowhere near your level, baby.” You’ve never actually begged like this. Steven stood there, looking at your face and slowly approached you.

His hands slide down to the bottom of your dress, pulling it above your head in one gentle motion. “Show me how bad you want me.” He tosses the dress across the flat, leaving you in your bra and panties. A sultry red lingerie set that seemed like you were expecting this night. “And by the looks of it, love. You were planning this.” He refers to your outfit with a smile.

“How do I show…”

“Come here.” He sits on the couch, spreading his legs apart as he invites you onto his lap. You excitedly obliged as your cunt feels the roughness of his pants. The only barrier between your cunt and his leg was the flimsy fabric. Steven’s hands guide your hips slowly onto his lap, moving you back and forth. The friction your clit was feeling was immaculate.

“Is that what my dearest darling wants?” Steven couldn’t help but get lost with your expressions. So soft, so needy and all his. His hands assisted the friction and your reactions were very admirable. The way you bucked your hips, the way your eyes shut tight as your lips parted to release the sweetest of all moans. The way beads of sweat were forming all over your body, making your skin glow underneath the yellow lamp lights.

“Steven, I need more.” You admit, being a bit frustrated that Steven couldn’t touch you directly. He chuckles at your request. “I don’t think you’ve proven yourself enough to be a good girl, yet.” He hums into your ear as your grinding gets a bit more vigorous.

“Please…” pleading for your man to give you an ounce of relief.

“Tell you what, love…” He massages your ass yet again, “If you could make yourself cum on my lap without my assistance, I will reward you.” He kisses your breasts gently with soft pecks and even a lick or two. “Does that sound good?”

“Yes, yes, anything.” He got you wrapped around his fingers with the way he was teasing your urges. Slowly, he removes his grasp from you and leans against the couch, extending his arms behind him so he could have a full view of you using him to make yourself cum.

“That’s it baby, ruin the denim… Look at you, you got my jeans soaked.” He peers up to you through his eyelashes with the most lust-filled gaze. He wanted to make his hands explore you but unfortunately he did say you should do it yourself. So all he could do was animalistically look at you.

Your hips continued to go back and forth as your cheeks flushed red. The pressure building in your lower abdomen was a bit too much to handle. And you were sure you ruined your panties. That didn’t matter though. As you grinded you found your hands subconsciously traveling along your body, touching yourself as Steven watched in awe. He couldn’t stop you if he wanted. Such a goddess like you should be free to admire you own body. Your hands massaged both your tits and pulled them out of your bra. It was such a great sight. Until the knot in your stomach inevitably breaks free and causes you to leave already soaked pants, soaked further.

Steven immediately takes you in for a kiss, praising you for being such a good girl, “What a good girl, such a good girl all for me.” He says in between his kisses as you try to catch your breath. In a quick flick of the wrists, Steven removes your bra. “Pesky thing is keeping me from seeing all of you.” He encourages you to stand up and remove your panties, which you gladly followed.

You were there standing in front of your darling, naked. He felt bad about you being the only one putting on a show, so he decides to take off his annoying clothing as well. “Come here.” He pats the couch, though you would have loved to sit on his lap, you do as you're told.

You watch as he takes off his shirt, exposing his impressive body. You would never not get shocked at how this man was built. And he was all yours. He slowly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. Taking out his member slowly, your eyes widen as your mouth thirsts. You wanted to have that beautiful pulsating length in your mouth or in you. Either way it needs to be in you.

“D’ya want it, love?” His voice was cocky, looking at the way your mouth was already open for him. “Wrap those pretty lips around it. He needs you.”

Without further questions, you hop in between his thighs and take him in with your hands. Gently licking the sides like you were trying to clean an ice cream cone. He pulls your hair up and away from your face so he could see you better. Your lips slowly make their way to his tip as your tongue teases it. He was cursing at your slowness. Wanting nothing more than to fuck your mouth.

“Fuuuck, darling pleaseee…” he hisses. You smile at his reaction and finally give him what he wants. Taking his tip in, as your hands worked the base of his cock. You inhale deeply as you try to take as much of him as you can. And his grip tightens around your hair. You begin bobbing your head up and down as your hands gently squeeze the base of his cock and balls.

It was so good and felt like heaven. Steven would love to have just fill your mouth up and have you swallow every last drop but he didn’t want it to end there yet. So with all the strength and control he could muster, he pulls your lips off of him.

“Shit, darling…” you wipe the precum and spit around your lips, looking up at Steven. Curious as to why he stopped you.

“What’s the matter baby?” You question.

“Nothing’s the matter at all. Let’s see to it that you get the same treatment, hmm?” He lifts you up by the chin and guides you to sit down on the couch. He gets up and situated himself in between your legs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart, spreading on either side of you, on the couch. Steven took this as an opportunity to lick your inner thighs, slowly and sensually. Sucking and leaving love marks where no one can see.

You had no control over the fact that you began shivering, desperately wanting to get him closer to your heat. “Darling, please.” You let out.

Steven stops and looks up at you, “Please what, princess?”

“Please just…” You struggled to find a good way to let him know you wanted to feel him more. “Just… give it to me.”

Steven laughs at your inability to form sentences but he didn’t wanna torture you any longer, so he dips down and placed peppery kisses up and down your cunt. Stopping by your entrance to give it one slow and long lick. “Fuck-“ you gasp out. This encourages Steven to grab your hands and place them on the back of his head.

“Come on baby, show me where you want me to go.” He purrs into your lips causing your hands to shake. Carefully, you pull his head up till you felt his lips above your clit. “Naughty. Naughty.” He breaths out before licking your sensitive bump, sucking and kissing on it as one of his fingers teases your folds.

He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder so he could access you better. Still sucking and licking your clit as his finger enters your pussy. The wetness was expected but Steven was shocked by how clenched down you were on his fingers. Getting him excited at the thought of his length being squeezed in.

He circles his tongue as his finger curls up inside you, this makes you squeeze Steven’s locks with a soft squeal from your lips. “Mm, does my baby like that? What if I do it again?” He repeats the exact motion, faster and deeper— making you literally shake at his eagerness to please.

“Shit Steven- do-do it again please…”

“Beg more, princess. Beg me to make you cum.” His voice vibrates on your clit.

“Make me cum. Pretty fucking please, Stevenn.” You were so high from the pleasure that you didn’t mind the dirty words that were escaping your mouth.

As promised, he does that same thing again. Constant. Passionate. Deep. And fast. The repeated motions were so exquisite that you eventually squirted all over your dearest Steven’s face.

“Wow.” He speaks as he watches you catch your breath. Eager to taste you, he licks you clean, as well as his hands. “Darling, you are so sweet.” His soft dominating persona pushes you down onto the couch, legs still spread apart. “Now stay still.”

He pulls his pants down to his knees as his length springs out, ready and hungry for you. “He’s been a bit needy and jealous that my finger got all the glory.” Steven adjusts himself so that your ass was at the edge of the couch and his cock’s head was just by your entrance.

“So you are jealous…” You toyfully joke as you massaged Steven’s abdomen, carefully and intricately tracing his muscles. Steven shakes his head with a smile, “Not anymore, you’re all mine. Isn’t that right?”

You lift your head as your hands pull him down, “Fuck yeah I’m all yours.” You whisper into his ears, “Now fuck me.”

With those nasty words, Steven looks into your eyes as he forcefully slams into you. Watching your wide eyes squint with pleasure, not breaking any eye contact. “Such a needy baby.” He says as he slams in intervals. Making you physically move against the crook of the couch.

“Fuuuck sakeee Stevennn.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to keep looking into his eyes. He pushes his forehead against you as his hands keep you on the edge of the couch. His rhythmic movements were so euphoric and caused you to let incoherent praises and moans fill the air.

“Baby, yes. That’s. Fucking. It.” He thrusts into you with such force and need. “I will fucking mark you. Mark this pussy as mine and only mine!” He carries you into his arms so he could kiss your lips. His pounds were getting faster and deeper and you swore you felt him in your stomach. Him implying he wanted to fuck a baby into you was very enticing. You deepen the kiss and wrapped your legs around him.

“Yes, please. Give it to me. Give me all your cum.” You whisper as you kiss. This makes him vulgar and rougher, pushing into you. Even adjusting his angle.

“Is that it, baby? My little princess wants a baby? Wants this cock to mark you with a baby? Say it. Fucking say it!” Relentlessly, he was getting pushed to the edge. He wanted to mark you by all means and he couldn’t help but want it in all ways possible.

“Put a fucking baby in me.” Was all you managed to muster until Steven thrusts so fast that you came undone all over his member as you felt his warm cum drip all the way in you. He remains inside until every last drop was in you.

“Shh… shh… stay.” He pushes your abdomen down as he gently slides himself out, lastly swiping his cock on your lips. “Fuck darling…” He plops down onto the carpeted floor and couldn’t help but smile as he admired the masterpiece he made on and in your pussy. His hot liquid fills you up till the brim. Mixed with your own.

Quickly, he grabs a clean towel from the drawers and returns to you. Gently patting you down, careful to not push any of his cum out of you. You laid there, breathless and absolutely dumbfounded by the situation you just went through. To be frank, you barely felt your legs. The air was filled with the smell of sex and your body was filled with Steven. And you were satisfied with the feeling.

Glancing down, you see Steven who was gently cleaning you. Switching back to his nurturing persona. He softly closes your legs to make sure his seed stays in you. Causing you to adjust your sitting properly, laying on the back of the couch. He grabs the couch blanket and wraps you in it.

You tapped him on the shoulder and use your pointer finger to call him near. He follows and gets pulled into your lips. “Don’t ever get jealous again. Alright? You’re the only man I want to be with.”

“Are you saying that cause I fucked you silly or-“

“I’m saying that because I love you, dingus.” You boop his nose. Squeezing your legs tight as you still felt his cum in you.

His lips smile and his dimple peers through. God he was such an adorable and handsome sight. Why would he think you’d leave him?

“I’m going to draw us a bath.” Steven stands up and kisses your forehead. Leaving you there in a happy stricken moment for the rest of the night.

#moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marvel fanfiction #steven grant angst #steven grant fluff #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #dom!steven grant x reader

2K notes · View notes