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#he will only be drawn when people decided to be generous with him
wazzappp · 1 day
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ALRIGHT WE BALL. Time to get on with the story (i have a story planned thats. a real shocker. im ass at writing but ill get this drawn damnit I promise)
This argument is one that just needed to happen. Robbie cant think of the infected he's been killing as people because that would mean he has killed a truly UNCOUNTABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE. Lisa has done what she has to in order to survive, and that includes killing the un-infected (which, of course, to Robbie is totally unacceptable). So when he's trying to explain the difference it just comes across JUDGY AS HELL. They're both proud and defensive and bad communicators and the conversation goes BADLY.
This happens while they're on their way to the Beneviento house. Lisa basically goes 'Alright if youre so high and mighty go ahead and beat this one yourself then!' and fucks off back to Duke with the intention to kill as many Lycans in the way as physically possible. Robbie goes ahead to the SPOOKY NIGHTMARE HOUSE trust me I have plans for what he sees in there and its appropriately disturbing but it also spoils the ending I have planned for this whole thing so :) hang in there.
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BUT he ends up having a BAD TIME when he's trying to head back and what @rokhal suggested slotted in SO VERY NICE HERE (i feel i have sufficiently LOST MY MIND over the fic you posted i am JKSL:FJSDFDS F UCk)
'Picturing Robbie alone in the Village foraging for gunpowder and cash (because it's a Video Game and they can't just hang out in Donna Benaviento's house throwing the creepy dolls in the river while waiting for rescue after reconnecting the phone lines, no, they have to wander around the entire map) and he's saving the herbs for Gabe and using all the chem fluid for sniper rifle ammo or whatever. And he's fighting off werewolves and it's fine because apparently his health regenerates like mana because he's made of mold.
But as he's wandering around it starts to get harder and harder to remember how much cash and scrap he needs. And he keeps missing shots. And then he gets a little turned around but now he's lost and there's more fkn werewolves, and he's seriously low on ammo and he just wants to get back to Gabe, but he needs to regroup and his hands are numb so he tries to warm them at one of the villager's stoves.
And then he discovers that he's slowly turning into a mindless mold creature, and realizes that the only way to keep Gabe safe from him is to get really really really lost, so lost he'll never find his way back before something kills and eats him.
This does not work, but it does ensure that he is incoherent and barely recognizable by the time Gabe and Lisa track him down.'
Which is all MWAH. CHEFS KISS.
Anyway Robbie is gone for a WHILE and Lisa realizes that the puzzles she needs to solve to move the fuck on require 2 people so she's stuck killing any lycans that stray too close to Dukes camp and hanging out with Gabe. UNTIL, of course, Gabe decides yeah no fuck this fuck that Robbie has been away for WAY to long and I'm going after him. Only problem is that Gabe's abilities are kinda rooted too wherever his sclerotia pods (is adding pods to that redundant? whatever we ball) have had enough time to take root and grow. Meaning, despite her anger towards Robbie at the moment, if Lisa doesen't want Gabe caught, dragged to Mother Miranda and dismembered, she's gotta go with him (also featuring @moosemonstrous hilarious idea of her being proud of Gabe's attempted intimidation).
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When they DO track him down he's barely awake. He keeps wandering in one direction then looks like he wants to turn around and go another but he keeps FORCING HIMSELF to go the other way (generally I think he would be a decent bit stronger, but fighting his instincts this hard make him seem more aimless. Robbie is borderline unstoppable when trying to get to his brother, but right now he's NOT trying to get to his brother. you feel me?). Lisa goes up first to make sure he's not going to lose his shit or something. He basically falls onto her with the single saddest "m'sorry" ever heard on planet Earth. If it's for FALLING on her or if its for the CONVERSATION earlier, Lisa isn't quite sure. But it's been years since anyone has apologized to her for anything and thats enough for her to decide she should at least sling him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes back to Dukes camp.
They make it back to the Dukes camp and give Robbie a couple of med kits (GOOP JUICE!!!!!) and he's a little more coherent. He's still trying to stay away from Gabe even though everything in him is saying 'STAY CLOSE' but he's got SOME brain space available because at least he's in line of sight now. Scrambled brain time is not the BEST for trying at an apology but hey, Robbie isn't really known for his great ideas and he tries anyway.
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(ft me being unwell about shoving them together)
They're on better terms after this. The communication is still weird but hey its them so everything is weird. Plus they get some extra bonding time because I also snatched rokhals OTHER suggestion of
'....Been thinking maybe The Duke has a recipe that would heal Robbie...requiring meat from a golden dancing fish and the breast of the blue bird that haunts the graveyard and the tenderloin of the magnificent boar that sires all the swine in the Village...or something. So Gabe and Lisa have to go hunting while keeping Robbie calm...'
Ah yes. the high end flesh of the Great Village Fuck Boar. Delightful.
Cause I mean he's BETTER but still not GREAT. I think now that he's with Gabe he would be unable to leave him again while like this. Gabe would HAVE to go with them (we can get >:] 'Robbie goes into an overprotective frenzy and sword hands himself to hack some poor lycan that got too close in half' its a good time [its not. sword hand is very disturbing to him])
So anyway what Im TRYING to say is that the brainworms will continue
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ryllen · 8 months
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He will never get it next time or anytime,
but in my arms he will be my favorite loser woooo~~
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Boyfriend
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Wanda X Reader 18+
Summary: Inspired by the song 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron
Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Fingering, Oral, Praise, Sub Wanda/Dom Reader, Praise Kink, Soft, Confessions, Minor Vision/Wanda
General Master List
W/c- 1.8k
Your eyes scanned the room once again only to be drawn back to the figure you were trying to avoid. You watched her tap the back of her phone impatiently, her eyes glancing up to check the room for him. Her lip was caught between her lips as her green eyes flickered between anger and disappointment while still scanning the room for a certain android. You couldn’t understand how someone could ever leave her alone, couldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. A wave of jealousy washed over you again reminding you of why you were trying to avoid her. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the feeling of want for her. You wanted her to know how special she was, how amazing she was, how brave she was, how wanted she was but he was still there. He just kept disappointing her over and over again and you just wished she would realise she deserved better.
After a finishing your drink, you noticed a figure in a black dress moving, instantly grabbing your attention. Her eyes glossed over and you saw the disappointment in her face as she tried to manoeuvre her way through the crowd of dancing people. You decided to move after her and just as she reached the doors to leave you grabbed her wrist.
“Hey Wanda?” you softly said making her turn around to see who had taken a hold of her wrist. Her body immediately relaxed when she saw it was you who stopped her.
“Hey,” she replied back, a small smile emerging on her face.
“Care to dance?” you say while offering your hand out for her to take. She gracefully placed her hand in yours causing a smile to appear on your face as she lead you to the dance floor.
Her arms lazily wrapped themselves around your neck as you placed your hands on her waist. Your bodies moved in sync with the music, her hips swaying in an almost hypnotising way as the music started to speed up. Her jet black dress hugged her figure leaving no room for imagination and the slit at her thighs set a throb between your thighs. The alcohol from earlier kicked in as the music picked up giving you a confidence boost to spin her around so her back was flush against your front. Your arm wrapped itself around her waist more securely as her head leaned back to rest against your shoulder. Piercing green eyes met your own before they glanced down to stare at your lips. You moved your mouth to whisper against her ear whilst your hips still moved to the music, her body now grinding against yours.
“I could be a better boyfriend then him,” your voice low and raspy. Her breath hitched and she move her head to look at you, her arm coming up behind her to hold you in place. Slowly, you lowered your head so your lips were ghosting hers, “I could do the shit that he never did.” You tear your eyes away from her lips and back to her eyes to see her pupils blown and staring at you with a hunger. “If I could give you some advice, I would leave with me tonight,” you mumbled before she crashed her lips to yours. Wanda moved so her body faced yours so she could pull you closer and press her lips back onto yours. Your hands moved to her lower back as you pulled her body flush against yours. She moaned into your mouth at the contact and broke off the kiss to pant against your lips. You moved your mouth to press hot open mouthed kisses along her neck but stopped when you felt her pull away. Her hand grabbed your own before she dragged you across the room to the exit.
The two of you made it to the elevator of the compound where you pinned her against the wall. A gasp left her lips as you picked her up so she could wrap her legs around your waist, her core pressed up against your tone stomach as you pushed her even more into the elevator wall. Her mouth moved against yours as you ran your tongue along her bottom lip, seeking entrance that she happily gave to you. A groan escaped you as her hands threaded through your hair, occasionally tugging your head back so she could kiss you better. The sound of the doors opening didn’t stop you as you just carried her off the wall and walked towards the room of your door. However you didn’t make it to your door as you pinned her up against the wall once again, this time however to mark her neck. A loud moan echoed around the empty hallway as she bucked her hips against your stomach, the burning feeling between her thighs too much.
“Please,” she whispered out with her head thrown back. You hastily moved off the wall to find your door before placing her down. Your hands fumbled with the lock and Wanda wasn’t helping by pushing her body back against yours, her teeth scraping your pulse point and hands scratching down your back through your suit jacket. Eventually, you got the lock causing both of you to stumble through the door, her body still clinging onto yours. “Fuck,” she moaned as you kissed down her neck and your hands teased the back of her thighs. “Bedroom,” she said in between kisses, “Now. Please.” You smirked into the kiss as you lead her through your apartment and into your bedroom.
You pushed her onto the bed and hovered over her as her hands pushed your jacket off your shoulders. Your hands glided down her body as you pulled your mouth away from her to make sure she was ok with this.
“If you want to stop,” you say softly as she gazes up into your eyes, “We’ll stop. I want you to be comfortable,” you say with a gentle smile making her kiss you once again. The kiss was slow to start with as you moved to unfasten her dress, the black fabric now becoming loose around her body. Becoming impatient, Wanda used her magic to unbutton your shirt and quickly shoved it off your body to reveal your black lace bra and toned abdomen. Swiftly, you removed her dress leaving her just in her red lace panties as her dress didn’t need a bra. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered before pecking her lips and moving down her body. You kissed down her collar bone teasingly before taking a nipple in your mouth and using your hand to roll the other. Sinful noises filled the room as you licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh, her hands digging into your shoulder as her hips moved helplessly under you. With a pop, you let go of her nipple and moved to the other whilst your hand trailed south. A visible wet spot was seem on the red fabric making you smirk around her breast. “Look at you,” you husked out while moving down to kiss along her stomach, occasionally nipping to leave a small red mark. “So wet for me ,” you ran your fingers along the inside of her thighs, her body tensing and trembling with anticipation under your touch. “So desperate,” you mocked as you heard her whimper at the feeling of you circling her clit through the fabric.
Suddenly, you moved and ripped the fabric off her making her moan at the show of strength. You kissed her inner thighs before moving to lick at her clit. You circled the sensitive bundle of nerves before kissing and sucking at it. Her back arched at the pleasure and her hands moved to grip your hair to hold you in place. You moaned into her core at the taste of her and moved your hand so your fingers could tease her entrance.
“Please,” she begged as you gathered her wetness on your fingers. “Please just fuck me.” You thrusted a finger into her making her moan into the room as her head rolled backwards to rest against the mattress. You felt her walls pulse around you and quickly built up the pace whilst continuing to suck at her clit. You pumped your finger in at a brutal pace before slipping another finger in. Her walls tightened around you and her breath became ragged telling you she was close. “Fuck-I-Please!” she whimpered as her hips bucked against your hands and face.
“Be a good girl and come for me,” you rasped out before curling your fingers just at the right stop. Her whole body tensed and her thighs tightened around your head as she came with a string of moans. Slowly, you calmed down your movements as her body trembled from a powerful orgasm, your hands now rubbing soothing circles around her waist. You moved back up her body and pressed your lips against hers making her moan at the taste of herself on your tongue. The kiss gradually died down and Wanda moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck as you kissed the top of her head.
When you realised Wanda was falling asleep under you, you moved to go to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. You quickly cleaned her up before moving to lay next to her in bed. Sleepily, she looked up at you and gave you a small kiss before moving to cuddle against your chest.
When you woke up the next morning, you felt a weight on top of you and looked down to see the redhead curled up against your side, her head resting on your chest. You watched how her chest slowly rose and fell with each steady breath and how her face looked so calm and peaceful. You carefully moved to run your hand up and down her back making her let out a small sigh. Around ten minutes later you felt her wake up and moved slightly so you could see her.
“Morning beautiful,” you whispered making her giving you a lazy smile as her eyes fluttered open.
“Morning,” she whispered back whilst moving to cuddle more into you. “You stayed,” she mumbled at the base of your neck as you threaded your hands through her hair.
“Of course I stayed,” your voice was soft and gentle as you moved to look down at her. “I meant what I said last night. I could be better than him. I really like you Wanda and I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” You nervously watched for her reaction just to see her bite her bottom lip and smile at you.
“I really like you too,” she confessed quietly before moving to straddle your waist. “How about I show you how much I like you?” she purred out with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
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glamaphonic · 21 days
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i did this for rick so as promised my personal headcanon on the trajectory of michonne's feelings for rick
the most fun thing for me about this is that even though i would say that michonne is generally quite emotionally astute, it actually takes her way waaaaay longer than rick to be able to recognize what's going on between them
rick and michonne are so similar in terms of the things that drive them, that move them, that are most important to them (as gimple said: they have the same soul) and her entire approach to their relationship is basically tied into the fact that she and rick had inverse experiences at the very beginning of the apocalypse. he set out to find his family and did. whereas michonne had her family and lost them.
so she closes it all down, decides to just go away, but she can't really escape who she is, so she helps andrea. and this starts the recurring pattern in michonne's character arc where she repeatedly comes to these decision points where she has to make a choice between giving in to the nothingness or being herself (someone who is loving, compassionate, a protector) and every time she makes the choice to be true to herself, it invariably leads her to rick and their family
so from the moment they meet in s3 she is also viscerally drawn to him the same way he is to her, and like him there is no way she's in a place to even begin to process this. but she sought him out specifically because she was making that choice, to look for connection and community, and she sees who he is pretty much immediately, and so extends him this profound trust over and over again because who he is, what she sees in him, is fundamentally why she wants to be a part of that community.
in 4a, michonne's trauma has her turned every which way. she's already grown attached to rick and to carl and her reaction to this is to keep one foot out the door; to not be fully present for the community. to try to keep her distance even though while she's away she's still obviously thinking about her grimes boys all the time, i.e. bringing them back gifts, etc. and then the prison falls and it seems to justify her caution.
in 4b, she comes to one of those decision points and when she chooses to seek connection and community, it returns her to rick and carl. in my other post i note that this is where rick claims her as a grimes, but this is also where michonne fully commits. she claims them too. she accepts that they are hers. and of course we all know, and danai has even pointed out, the exact moment michonne fully falls in love with rick, when it clicks somewhere inside of her that it's only ever going to be him. but she's still nowhere near ready to consciously face that.
in 5a and through to 5b, just like rick she's not spending time examining what they've become. it just is. that's her family. they belong to each other.
towards the end of 5b, when rick starts to Realize, michonne doesn't because she instead actively sublimates the fact that she is in love with rick, that she has regained what she lost during the turn, into her general dedication to community. she puts everything into trying to shepherd their community without acknowledging her personal stake. which is what leads us to:
the end of 5b and through 6a during which michonne has to have 3 or 4 different people pretty much say to her face HEY YOU GET THAT YOU’RE MARRIED TO RICK AND RAISING CHILDREN WITH HIM RIGHT? YOU GET THAT BEYOND FOSTERING A COMMUNITY ON A MACRO LEVEL YOU HAVE A WHOLE ASS HUSBAND AND TWO KIDS? YOU GET THAT YOU DESERVE TO EMBRACE THIS THING THAT IS FOR YOU SPECIFICALLY AND LIVE A FULL LIFE?
but that final wall is so hard to get past because that wound is so deep, she has to sit with all of that for a good long while (she's working up to it), and it still takes carl basically openly declaring that she's his mother and rick actually making the move before she finally lets herself see, in that moment, what was already long since there.
and it's just very delicious to me personally that from 4a on rick was hers for the taking, honestly. all she had to do was say the word, but she wasn't ready to take him until that moment on the couch.
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alpaca-clouds · 10 months
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Let me talk Anarchism
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Okay, let me quickly talk about it, because I am so annoyed with this. For once in the way how it relates to Solarpunk, but also in relation to media. And yeah, choosing good old Hobie here, because while it was kinda played for humor with him a lot, he was one of the few characters in media I have seen, that are actually kinda a positive representation of anarchism.
You know, media in general misrepresents anarchism all the time. Sometimes for propaganda purposes, and sometimes because the creator does not know any better and has grown up with said propaganda themselves and just believe it. Most of the time, media hence represents Anarchism as "Society without rules!", which is most certainly not what anarchism is.
The word Anarchism comes from the Greek An Arkhos, which translates into "Without Rulers". That is exactly what Anarchism means. Anarchism is a political philosophy that aims to get rid of all unjustified, involuntary hierarchies.
This is, by the way, why Anarcho Capitalism might use the word, but can never be anarchist, because capitalism aims to build unjustifiable hierarchies. It is exactly the goal of the system. So Anarcho Capitalism is a contradiction in itself.
An anarchist society will still have rules. We know that, because there have actually been societies in history, that today we would call anarchist. It is just that instead of a sort of some group of people ruling over everyone else deciding on those rules, everyone would get to have their say in it. That is, why those historical examples of anarchism for the most part have sprung up in smaller, close-nit societies, because before the age of the internet it would've been rather hard to make everyone's voice heard.
If you are wondering: "But isn't democracy already doing that?" The answer is no. Because democracy is not working, due to the politicians having all the power and the populus not being able to force them to stick to whatever they promised during the election. We cannot recall politicians, who have lied to us. So for the most part, it is the people with big money, who influence the politics. People, who were not even elected, but who the politicians will try to please more than the average joe, who has voted for them. 
It is another reason, why a lot of anarchists are against the police. Not only do they use police violence, but they are in a position, where they are allowed to use it against people, often without much reprecussions. And all of that, without the people having any say in who does and does not get to be a police(wo)man. It is another unjustified hierarchy.
And, yes, it is also why anarchists tend to be against the concept of nation states. Because internationally some states rule over others. Colonialism might've ended on paper, but it has not ended in practice. The reason some nations are poor, while others are rich, is that the poor nations get exploited by rich nations. An unjustified hierarchy. And that is without starting on the fact how many borders have been drawn by people, who had no right to do so.
On the small scale, though, anarchism first and foremost is about helping people. Mutual aid is one of the core principles of the anarchist movement. Helping people, who got left behind by the unjustified state and the people who are in power. It is also about empowering people and allowing them to find their own voice.
See, here is the fact: One of the core believes in anarchy is, that people are actually not terrible. If the state stopped existing tomorrow, people would not run around, murder and pillage. They would still help one another. We have seen this time and time again when through war or natural catastrophies systems of power have failed. People help each other. Because we are actually a pretty social species.
This is also why I absolutely loathe the depiction we see in a lot of media. Most of all in Legend of Korra. Where not only the Red Lotus, as an anarchist group, does not do jack shit in terms of mutual aid and things like that... We also see basically the Earth Kingdom go to ruins and violence within minutes of the Earth Queen having been killed. Like, no, that is not how people would react in that situation. There would not be instant riots or some shit. Jesus. What made them think that?
And yes, sure. Some anarchists might riot on the streets, because they riot AGAINST the unjust system. But always remember: Usually, when there is police violence for example against a protest, it is your friendly neighborhood anarchist, who will be willing to put themselves between you and the police.
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I saw the lack of rottmnt in here and decided "hey, why not give it a shot?"
Neon Leon in blue having a sweet relationship with Big Mama's techy daughter
Big Mama’s Daughter (Fluff)
Rise!Leonardo x reader
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A/N: A short one, but I thought it was pretty cute. But I do indeed lack ROTTMNT stuff, so if people have some ideas, BRING THEM! HELP YA GIRL OUT😂💚
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Warnings: Nein💙
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“Take a look at this, babe”, Leo mumbled with an amused smile, pulling you closer against his plastron, letting you have a clear look at the screen of his phone. You snuggled closer to his chest, feeling his arm wrap around your waist, letting your own phone rest beside you on the bed.
You watched the video play out on his phone, depicting two men practicing martial arts, only for one of them to fall flat on their butt with a funny sound and an overly funny pose. You laughed out loud, trying to get a better view as the video played over again, Leo smiling at your reaction.
These small moments between you and your boyfriend, meant a lot to you. It had taken a long time before the two of you were able to hang out at each others’ places, without your parents throwing a fit. Well, neither you or Leo had thought it would be easy, especially not with your mother and Leo’s father having been in a relationship, and Leo’s other father generally having a hard time with Big Mama. But now they had finally calmed down, not letting their pasts get in the way for you and Leo. That did not mean that they now were the best of friends, but they were getting along well enough now.
However, that did not mean that you and Leo stopped your quote on quote “sneaking around”. You would still do what you did back then, with Leo teleporting back and forth between yours and his place, spending the night at your place or bringing you to the lair, all while you manipulated the signal from Leo’s tracker, making it look like he was still in the lair. Donatello’s face when you and Leo finally told him that you had with ease manipulated or blocked several of his tracking systems, was still a large talking point between you and your boyfriend, still making you laugh to this day.
“You are a little silly, Lee”, you giggled, letting your full weight rest against his plastron, making him fall back on your bed with a smile, letting his phone fall forgotten by his side, his full attention drawn to you and your beautiful face.
“Me? Silly? Neeeeveeer”, he chuckled, before wrapping his other arm around, tangling your legs together, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m such a mature, smart, sweet, good looking, humble-”.
“Humble?”, you giggled. “That is probably one of the least humble things you’ve ever said, and that says a lot”.
Leo let out a gasp in overexaggerated shock, throwing his arm dramatically above his head. “How can you say such a thing?”, he playfully exclaimed, making you smile and giggle at his antics. “My own girlfriend! Oh, (Y/N), you’ve hurt me!”, he continued, trying to hide his smile, laying a hand above his heart.
“Aww, Leon!”, you laughed, playing along with the act, finding it just as amusing as he did. “It was not my intention to hurt you. What can I do to make it better? Tell me, babe!”
Leo’s arms quickly around you once again, making you laugh when he started making kissy faces at you. “You know very well what you can do to make it better”, he teased. “Gimme a kiss!”
You giggled, taking a hold of his face, holding him still so you could peck his lips, making Leo smile like he was drunk, resting his forehead against yours.
“Much better”, he sighed, rubbing his beak against your nose. “But I could use another one”.
“Needy”, you teased, before placing your lips back on his for a sweet tender kiss, that made Leo hum in delight, a happy churr vibrating from his chest. But that was soon interrupted by a sudden beep from your tech watch, followed by the voice of your mother.
“(Y/n)”, she said, making you and Leo jump, finding Big Mama looking at you and Leo through the screen on your watch.
“H- hey mama”, you smiled, you and Leo’s cheeks growing hot. “Y- you didn’t hear or see anything, did you?”
Your mother sighed, rolling her eyes, hiding a small smile. You had not mentioned to her that Leo was coming over that day, nor had you told her when he arrived, but it did not surprise her that he was in your room. In truth, she was just happy that you were happy and treated well, even if it was by the mutant that had tricked her several times in the past.
“You and Leo can come out of your room now. Dinner is ready”, she said, before turning off her communication, leaving you and Leo slightly embarrassed. However, that was soon forgotten when all three of you sat together during dinner, enjoying each others’ company. Big Mama could never be mad at you for spending time with the man you loved, nor could she be mad at Leo when he made you so happy.
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musical-shit-show · 3 months
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bad idea, right?
Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader
Inspiration: Prompts #47 (“you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”) from Prompt List 1 and #34 (“hate is not the word. i loathe you.”) from Prompt List 3
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 1 of Hazbin Hotel, heavy cursing, homophobic language, Adam is just generally an asshole (duh), mentions of murder, depression (?), angst, digital stimulation, choking, general kinda rough smut (18+, minors DNI!!!)
Word Count: 1,657
Author’s Note: So ever since that Hazbin finale, I’ve loved the concept of Adam getting sent to Hell, mirroring how Sir Pentious was redeemed to Heaven. So, since it’s Hell, I figured this would make sense to have it be a little darker and more mature than my typical stuff. So yeah, minors DNI (for real, I don’t want to have to block anyone). If people like this, I might try my hand at other Hazbin characters if I feel so moved (or if anyone sends in a request). As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you do want to send in a request! Happy reading, you degenerates.
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“Would you get your hands off me? I just stepped in the door, asshole.”
“Did anyone see you?”
The door slammed behind you, shaking the walls of the seedy motel room on the west side of Pentagram City. Needy hands were already roaming over your figure, and you groaned in frustration.
“No,” you hissed, shrugging away from Adam’s grasp, taking off your overcoat. It was raining heavily that night, so most of the denizens of Hell had confined themselves to the indoors for the evening. That is if they weren’t working the corner or trying to find their next fix.
“As if I want to be spotted here anyways,” you huffed, “I have a reputation to uphold too, ya know.”
“Reputation,” he repeated, his golden eyes glowering beneath the horned mask that he still insisted on wearing. He chuckled darkly, “If I was seen cavorting around with a fucking sinner, there would be zero chance of me getting back to where I rightfully belong.”
Adam couldn’t fathom how this happened to him. He was then first man, the first human, and wielded unimaginable angelic power beyond comprehension.
But he was taken out by a two-foot tall, one-eyed maid with a penchant for stabbing. It almost would’ve been badass if it didn’t result in his untimely demise.
Next thing he knew, he woke up hours later, his angelic form altered into a tacky red and black cloak and broken wings. He still maintained his gold pupils, a haunting reminder of his previous afterlife.
And now he was a fallen angel.
Fallen.
Fallen. All because of that clit-licker Charlie Morningstar and her merry band of misfits. Which, at the present moment, included you. You had decided to take up residence at the Hazbin Hotel, and it made his blood boil.
So why did he still feel so drawn to you?
“Newsflash, but you’re down here too, dickwad,” you spat, taking offense to his comment, “You fucked up big time going after Lucifer’s daughter, and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
Before you could launch into a tirade, Adam grabbed you firmly, pulling you flush against him, “Ya know,” he purred, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”
“Pig.”
“Talking back will only make you pay for it later, dollface,” he growled, his dick twitching under his robe as he eyed you hungrily, “And if you didn’t like it, why do you keep coming back for more, hmm?”
You glared at him. The truth was, you didn’t know. He was the antithesis of everything you were trying to work toward; ever since the Princess of Hell had let you seek refuge in her hotel, you felt like you actually could be on the path to redemption.
That is, before you had a chance encounter with a fallen angel—and not just any fallen angel, but Earth’s first man—who also happened to be a massive shithead. You almost felt bad about lying to Charlie and the rest of the crew, but there was something about Adam that made it impossible for you to stay away.
You felt your insides twist as Adam spun you around so your ass was pressed against him, his form much larger and intimidating than your own. You let out a groan as his fingers weaved through your hair, giving it a slight tug as he pulled it back to expose your neck.
He nipped at the sensitive skin by your collarbone, while his other hand deftly palmed around the front of your skirt until it was hiked up to expose your panties. You should’ve been disgusted by the thought of him—and oftentimes, you were—but that didn’t stop your body from tingling with arousal.
He could sense it, the anger radiating off of you. It only turned him on more. These days, he only felt this kind of thrill when he was taunting you, teasing you until you came undone around him.
It was almost as good as when he would come down for his yearly visit, slaughtering sinners with his faithful lieutenant by his side.
Almost.
“Can’t hate me that much when you’re wet as fuck for me, huh hot stuff?” he said, his voice low in your ear. His grip tightened, the discomfort of his clawed fingers becoming almost unbearable.
“Hate is not the word,” you muttered, venom laced in your words, “I loathe you. I should do all of Hell a favor and kill you for good.”
You both knew your threats were empty. Having been an angel, Adam possessed more power than half the overlords of Hell. There was nothing special about you. If he wanted, he could snap you like a twig.
But despite his best efforts, Adam was incredibly lonely. Despondent, even. He didn’t know who he was without his legion of exterminators and Lute.
He had no plan to take over even a measly quadrant of Pentagram City, because he was struggling with the point of it all. Most overlords were now armed to the teeth with angelic weapons, which meant one more stab to the back and he was done for good.
Maybe an end to this misery would be good, but he so desperately wanted to claw his way back to Heaven that it wasn’t a risk he was currently willing to take.
He felt like a pathetic coward. But at least he had you to torment. At least when he was with you, he could stifle the cacophony of melancholia in his head. For a little while, anyways.
“Ugh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he mused, unphased by your aggression as he removed your shirt, exposing your breasts. His fingers moved your clit as he stroked you through your underwear, making you flinch, “Face it, toots. You might not be as fucked up as I am, but you have to admit this is adds just the right amount of spice to your miserable fucking existence.”
“If you’re gonna monologue all night about me being demon scum, I can go,” you shot back, glancing back at him with an annoyed look splashed across your face. “Besides, I told you last time, I’m not fucking you if you keep that stupid mask on.”
The digital façade he wore fell into a scowl, but Adam caved almost immediately and tossed the mask aside, revealing his tousled brown hair and piercing eyes. A five o’clock shadow adorned his face, and you’d almost consider him handsome if you knew nothing about his personality.
He pushed you onto the bed, his fingers threading to grip your hair again, making your back arch. Your comfort was the last thing on Adam’s mind. A part of him actually liked that you fought back against him; being challenged made fucking you even more interesting. 
You could feel how hard he was against your ass, and the pit in your stomach started to tense as you felt his cock rub against your folds, your panties now hanging pathetically from your ankles after he ripped them away from your waist.
Satan forbid he actually take off that stupid outfit of his; he had no problem disrobing you, but you didn’t have time to protest. With a sudden thrust, he sheathed himself into you, making you moan involuntarily.
You could almost hear the smirk coming from behind you as Adam began to pound into you almost immediately, his pace steady and rough. “You’re gonna take it like a good little slut, aren’t you?” he mocked, not letting on how perfect you felt around him, “You know there isn’t demon dick in all of Hell that’s as good as the original.”
How this guy got into Heaven in the first place, you’d never know. “Wouldn’t be too sure of that,” you needled as he pulled you to him again, his strokes getting deeper and making your abdomen tighten, “I’ve heard Lucifer is amazing in bed.”
You knew this would set him off; any time you invoked Lucifer’s name, you knew you were playing with fire.
Adam growled in your ear, his temper flaring. His rhythm quickened, becoming more frantic and desperate. You felt your eyes starting to water as he slammed into you, causing your pussy to throb around him.
Before you could utter another insult, you felt his hand finally loosen its grip on your hair and rest on your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck as he continued fucking you from behind.
He wasn’t going to forget that comment, but he could bitch about Lucifer later; he had more pressing matters at hand.
“Doesn’t matter, babe,” he said, his breathing starting to get ragged as he inched closer to coming inside you, “Your cunt is mine.” Adam might’ve been a sadistic asshole, but he was no idiot; he knew you were just as wretched and alone as he was.
You had to be if you were willingly sneaking around with God’s former favorite on a regular basis.
Which suited him just fine. If he was really damned, he might as well fill his time filling someone else.
His grasp tightened around your throat, and you felt your climax building inside you as he rutted against you at a now punishing speed. “Fuck you,” you squeaked out, trying to sound intimidating, but it was hopeless.
You unraveled around him a few moments later, spasming as you gasped for air, the constriction around your throat deliciously agonizing. Adam spilled into you soon after, a low hum of pleasure emitting from him. Him coming inside you was the most intimate he’d get as far your hookups were concerned.
Feeling equal parts disgusted and satisfied, you pulled your underwear back on, resting on your elbows and finally able to look him into the eye again. Even in the lusty post-sex haze, you could feel the sadness in his stare.
“So,” he drawled, leaning down to close the gap between you, “Same time next week?”
~~~~~
thanks for reading, depraved sinner! as always, please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed! <3
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makur0 · 1 year
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No Nut November?
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synopsis — they’re drawn into this daring challenge, all hoping to win. but who really has the guts to do so? [various enstars! x gn! reader]
featured characters — kuro kiryu, hiyori tomoe, shu itsuki, mika kagehira, mao isara, izumi sena, niki shiina, madara mikejima, adonis otogari, jun sazanami, tsumugi aoba, rinne amagi (phew a mouthful haha)
content warnings — nsfw, mdni. rough sex, jealous sex, cunnilingus, use of toys, penetration (both reader and character recieving), some hard dom! chara some reader, reversed role, sexual frusturation, teasing, degradation, face sitting, crack in some, fluffy sex in some, all of them being absolute whores (including me lets not lie)
author’s note — CROWD CHEERING IM BACK TO SMUT Y’ALL (tbh i failed the challenge like a week in but never actually opened that up bc... yeah.) and special thanks to all my mutuals for the characters, lol (these skanky-ass whores are kinda... mmm)
word count — 3559
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Give it up for Rinne Amagi y’all, for he isn’t trying to win. I swear this man has no intention of going clean for even twenty-four hours, what makes you think he’ll do it for a whole month? In fact, just to piss off all of the contestants he’ll drag you into his room and go feral on you. Good thing Hiyori and Kanata had decided to bunk at a different dorm (they probably saw this coming) or else they would see Rinne fucking you into his mattress, your tear-stained face shoved into the pillows as you moan shamelessly every time he slaps his pelvis against your ass. Calling you dirty names, leaving handprints on your ass, hickies, bruises and even broken skin littering your chest and shoulders. He literally turns you into a dumb stuttering doll as he pulls countless orgasms out of you, soaking his bedsheets underneath you and generally creating a mess. Which he’s honestly aiming for. Riling up all those so-called ‘clean’ people and making them regret their choice for accepting the challenge. It’s in his nature, after all, to stir up chaos.
Oh? You were planning to participate in the challenge too? Well that has him even more hyped up. He’s gonna scramble your mind (and insides) so much that you’ll be so fucking glad that you didn’t take up the offer and instead stayed with him. If he can make you feel this good, why throw it away for such a shitty gamble that you wouldn’t even gain anything from it?
I don’t think it’s quite obvious, but Jun Sazanami would have lost within the first day. He may have a bit more dignity than our favorite redhead, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a horny teenager at heart. Dragged into this mess by Ohii-san and taunted by him, he was really set on winning it, poor man. He only realized his fault as soon as the first day, when he went out with you. Jun really couldn’t help himself as he would constantly steal looks to your body, feeling himself heating up even more than usual due to the challenge itself. (Literally why are you the most horny when you want to become clean?) I feel like he won’t just fold you and start rutting into you like a bitch in heat— well to be honest i want him to do that— but he’ll secretly jerk off away from the prying eyes of his friends, in hope that people wouldn’t notice. Frantically fisting his hard-on, his other hand desperately muffling his moans, as he comes for what seems like the third time that night. Imagining that it was your hand around his cock, pumping his seed out, and your tongue licking up all of his cum. Goddamn- he can’t escape from your hold.
Of course Hiyori finds this out, but Jun isn’t really all that pissed about it... at least he can fuck you now without worrying about this stupid challenge anyways. 
Talking about him, Hiyori Tomoe wouldn’t last either! Definitely hypes himself too much, proclaiming that he will win this challenge easy-peasy. But that’s him talking when he gets pussy/dick almost every night. Even going as far as teasing his friends about it, catcalling them, but soon enough he’ll be eating those words when it hits him that he can’t call you. At least, to call you to meet him at his room again to do their almost-daily quickie. And what?! He can’t even masturbate too??
Somehow he gets through the first week (with him grinding against his sheets softly I may add- which unfortunately made the man even more needy) but it soon turns to be futile as every time he lays eyes on you, dirty fantasies fill his mind. Damn the challenge; why can’t he just have you sit on his cock in public, your nice little hole drooling over his length as you grind impatiently against him? You look so cute in those clothes anyway... 
And when you get irritated? By god he’s spiraling. He wants- no, needs you to peg or ride him until he’s seeing stars. Losing his sanity by the second, he’s shoving you into the nearest bathroom stall, impatient to finally get off after so long. And please do help him... he’s been good for a week, right? A whole seven days! He surely deserves a treat, no?
As a joke, Madara Mikejima would take on the challenge fully knowing that he’ll loose... so why? Just to see your face when he announces it? He’s fully aware that you can’t handle the sexual deprivation (even more so than he), so you’re devastated when he tells you his plan. Of course this is all just to see you break and whine to him just so he can tease you about it, but not just yet...
You couldn’t keep your composure for even a week, so soon enough Madara finds you getting off to your toys, trying to keep your loud moans at bay. He doesn’t bite for a minute or so, but once he sees your blissful face once you come undone on some fucking silicone something eats at him. Within a second he’s towering over you, throwing that slicked-over toy and biting at you with a tight smile that clearly tells you that you’re in for it. He’s being extremely petty over getting jealous by a toy, but he’s set on making sure that nobody, not even nothing can make you feel as good as he is right now. Surely, with the way you’re screaming his name for all the neighbors to unfortunately hear, right? And the way you’re convulsing on his cock, pushing him to fuck you even harsher and deeper, yeah? In the end Mama set you up for a trap but he fell in it instead... but really, what does it matter when in the end he has you fold for him?
Poor Tsumugi Aoba, trying so hard for the sake of... what was it exactly? Did he hopefully write it down? Anyways, there’s no shot that this baby wins with all the work stress he’s under. How can he lose you, his main source of relief, for an entire month? He’s likely one of the few people who took the challenge but realized the struggle, so as soon as he’s starts he starts drowning himself in even more work, as ironic as it sounds. It’s successful... for what, the first week and a half or so? But there’s only so much work to be done. He somehow burns through a whole month’s work in a span of a week, and comes up with nothing after that. That’s when the real struggle happens.
It’s almost like he’s death-staring you as he sits with you at the dinner table, but in reality he’s having a mental conniption. All of his walls melted like ice thanks to the lack of distraction, and he’s trying to stop the flow of dirty, dirty thoughts about you. His dick getting hard within a snap of your finger, his face getting flushed and hot, it doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots and mentally sigh. Usually Tsumugi would listen to you thoroughly, but as soon as the words he wanted to hear slipped out of your lips he’s pressing against you like a dog in heat, apologizing profusely as he fucks you right over the table. And he’s likely going to keep you there for a good hour- this man has stamina. Prove me wrong >:(
Kuro Kiryu is struggling because you are. See, if he didn’t catch you biting your lip in frustration, rubbing your thighs together subtly, even ghosting your hand over your sex, he himself wouldn’t feel himself getting hot and hard. What’s turning him on is your sexual frustration... which later on would definitely put it to good use. Unfortunately for him though, he’s still tied into the challenge so he has to at least try. It’s probably the worst two weeks of his life as he tries not to fold your sleeping figure next to him in bed, instead going as far as staying up through the night and taking out all his frustrations on a poor sandbag (I’m telling you, by the end of it his dick his harder than that lmfao). Yes, he loses. Halfway through November, itching for some intimate touch, he nearly praises the lord above when he catches you playing with your sex like a bitch in heat, hurriedly trying to get off. 
He’s your man, so of course he has to help you! Just thank him by spilling your loud whorish moans into his ear as he fucks you on the cold bathroom floor, the heat radiating from both of your sweating bodies competing with the hot shower steam. His pent-up energy is either a blessing or a curse to your poor body, because he’s not letting go of you until he’s come at least... be real. Five or six times. And plus I’m normal about breeding so of course he’s watching his thick cum seep out of your hole, decorating the already-white marble tiles. He can’t help but take a picture for masturbation food, seeing your slicked-over hole and ass pairing with the purple, red, and pink marks he proudly left behind. Is he ashamed of losing the challenge? Honestly a bit during post-sex and when he finally has reason... but he’s learned so much that he wouldn’t know before. So it’s a 50/50 for him.
Shu Itsuki struggles because you aren’t. The Shu Itsuki, the self-proclaimed best artist, a man of culture, is frantically trying to calm down his raging hard-on as you waltz away from him, perfectly fine and calm?? No no, it should be the tables turned! You should be the one begging him to please you, and he should be scoffing at your brazen behavior! But no matter how much he wishes it to be this way, your lack of attention, sexually, has him bucking into his expensive sheets, whining into his already-soaked pillow as he tries to get himself off. I feel like Shu is the type of person to train himself to control his sexual desires when you’re not around, taking extreme caution to not to try to come over anything but you. Oh how it bites him in the back now, frustrated tears falling from his lilac eyes as he can’t bring himself to reach an orgasm even once. And he’s not the type to use toys, as the traditional man he is, so there’s nothing in his house that could accommodate to his needs. So he’s, in the worst time possible, stuck.
Finally dropping his pretentious ego, he comes to you as a whiny, horny flustered mess as his obvious hard-on pokes through his pants. You can’t help but coo at his helplessness, teasing him bit to further rile him up. But you can’t have your pretty princess wait for too long, or he’ll actually lose it. So give him a good hard fuck, riding him or pegging him it doesn’t matter, and break him over your lap until he’s a babbling flushed mess. Because of how sensitive he is you have his watery cum staining your slacks, feeling the cool liquid touch your hot skin, but you could care less as you please your baby <3.
Mika Kagehira is adamant on making sure nobody finds out he’s cheating. Who is he kidding- a person who basically lives on your quickies almost every day wouldn’t survive this challenge. But you just look so hopeful as you turned to him to win, genuinely thinking that he’ll succeed. So for your sake he’ll stay quiet, although it’ll probably kill him that he won’t be able to feel you for a while. All he has to survive off of are shitty sex toys and every once in a while plushies that permanently smell like you, so it’s definitely not the best but it could be worse.
But out of all people (although looking back he was relieved) you were the first one to find out that he was cheating all along. Walking into him whining against his pillows, grinding his dick into the cum-soaked sheets as a vibrator was shoved into his ass at the highest speed. You’re frozen in your spot for a good minute, trying to process the scene in front of you, before your wrenched out of your thoughts as the male moans out your name quite shamelessly, gripping onto the ropes he wrapped around his wrists for the thrill of the burn. He was so far gone that he couldn’t even care who walked in on him, which, good for you, could enjoy the show a little bit more before you intrude on his session. So there you are, sitting at his desk, staring at the writhing boy pleasing himself at your name. Around ten minutes pass by, and Mika’s looking pretty worn out so he reaches for the remote. But before he could shut it off you suddenly appear on him, resting your hand over his. The poor boy is flabbergasted, trying to come up with some silly excuse before your other hand is rubbing dangerously close to his dick. Even after all the orgasms he’s had he feels himself getting hard again at your touch, and soon enough wanting more like the spoiled whore he his. But dear me, he’s expecting you to be nice to him especially since he hasn’t had you for so long. He broke his promise after all, didn’t he? Hope he doesn’t mind a bit of pain...
To be fucking funny, Niki Shiina would have won. So hard. Just the way his mind works has him thinking about food all the time, and of course your one of his favorite snacks but somehow it hasn’t brutally affected his sexual deprivation. Somehow. Butttt of course you go and screw everything up. Just like Rinne you fucked the whole challenge... but why is Niki doing it??? Who the hell convinced him to do so? And just ditch you? Nope, not on your watch. You’re gonna make sure he looses, and hard.
He only realizes your intention halfway through, but it’s too late. Because of your influence his dirty mind is turning everything sexual, and it’s pushing him over the edge. He’s pretty much had enough. So, completely disregarding the challenge, he manages to corner you and outwardly express his aggravation, throwing a tantrum like the little kid he is. You simply laugh at his antics, dragging a finger across his collarbone and... wow, you can’t remember what happened after that. All you could focus on was how harsh he was shoving his face into the sheets. The high-pitched whines and moans did not match at all with the brutal pace he set on you, destroying your insides. All you could do was grip on the sheets for dear life, your pupils blown wide and face extremely flushed as Niki fucked into you like a dog in heat. If you didn’t have the pillows masking your sight, you would’ve seen the man have tears streaming down his face in pleasure, his lips stuck in a pout as he watched your hips bruise under the iron grip he had you in. For such a soft guy, he sure is rough... tenfold if he was pent up. 
Izumi Sena would be close, but not enough to win. Without you he definitely has the mindset for it. You would think he would get so frustrated by his model workload but ironically it’s what keeps him sane. Give him more than a few days off and his mind will be in the gutters in no time, no matter how much he tries to resist. But the gods seem to be on his side for the entire challenge (how he learned of it, who knows. why, confidential i guess) because the more work he got the less he talked to you. Of course you two contact on a regular basis but nothing more than a short, sweet call or texting each other for minutes at a time. It seems to be enough for him, at least. Whereas you, with a much much higher sex drive, is crying in your sheets. You just want to get off so badly and that’ll just be the end of it, but with the cocky idols teasing you and the haunting nightmares of Izumi being extremely disappointed in you helps you hold off... at least for now. You’re not sure if you can hold it out for any longer.
Fortunately for you, unfortunately for him, the Knights had an ‘emergency’ and he was called back to Japan a week before he was scheduled to leave. The emergency in question was just a lost Leo Tsukinaga, which was solved in no time, but that left Izumi back with you in person while there was just one week left in the challenge. And oh boy did you use that to your advantage. You couldn’t wait when the two of you were alone after the whole fiasco- in fact within the next day the man woke up to your naked figure sitting on his chest, tracing your fingers along his collar. With that and his usual morning wood, Izumi’s sanity and patience snapped like a twig. Flipping you over and immediately pushing inside of you, he’s plowing into you like a starved man, which he is. All of his manner, ego, and common sense is thrown out the window as he moans and curses into your chest, trying to go faster than the pistioning pace he’s already setting on. He’s reduced to a horny teenager, saying how much he missed you and your hold, even coming within the first minute of fucking you. But as soon as he has that post-orgasm mindset, and realizes what you’ve done to him with a flushed angry face, he’s not letting you go for the rest of the day. Be prepared to call out from work tomorrow, because he’s gonna make sure that you get more than what you bargained for.
Mao Isara perseverance is so godly I’m jealous of this man. ...Ok, maybe he acts like a teenager with a middle school crush around you during this challenge, but that doesn’t mean that his common sense and rationality is leading him the right way. But major kudos to the President himself because he’s balancing the stress of work and deprivation for an entire four weeks.
Like all he gets itchy when his time is almost up, and almost loses when he has a sleepover with you, seeing your slumbering body so flush and close to him he’s immediately getting hard. But no, for the sake of his reputation he has to continue, just for a little while. Then he’ll get the prize he’s drooling for. He’s jumping on you, asleep or not, and shoving his face into your sex as soon as his phone says December 1st (which he has been checking several times). He missed your taste and smell so much, he literally comes into his pants as your scent hits him like a brick wall. You’d be waking up to him devouring you from in between your legs, already waking up disoriented and, frankly, now needy. But don’t worry- he’s not letting you go anytime soon until he quenches his thirst and has you come several times for his pleasure. Even after that he’d be fucking you into the mattress, babbling about how much he missed your tight hole and thanking you so much for being patient with him, wrenching out an almost high-pitched moan every time he empties his overloaded balls into you.
Adonis Otogari has the most control over himself so of course he’s one of the very few winners among these horndogs of idols. By no means does he win for boasting rights or to tease the others, but he genuinely believes that it’ll impress you- I swear this boy will jump on any opportunity to see your face light up in excitement; he lives for it. So if this challenge will have you jumping up and down in joy, he’s down.
Minimal struggle. Of course he wakes up with the occasional morning wood, but calms himself down within an hour or so before Koga points it out and shit crashes and burns. Further into the month he has to use more... creative ways (I swear this man is willing to bathe in ice cold water to get his dong to freeze up and feel nothing) but somehow he perseveres as everybody around him starts dropping like flies. And when that clock strikes twelve on the last day of November he’s on cloud nine. Fortunately you’re with him at this time, so he doesn’t waste a single minute to drag you into bed and indulge in you for the remaining nightly hours. Instead of being rushed, harsh, and overall needy (although he is don’t lie), he’s going to take his sweet time and remind himself the pleasure he gets from either fucking you nice and slowly or eating you out so that both of your minds are reeling. He survives, but don’t expect him to do this again anytime soon.
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Taglist: @mishkakagehishka @yandere-daze @ciderwebs @sakumasmut @mumuugi @procrastination-is-my-profession @ibaraluvr
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privitivium · 1 month
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I saw u do a reverse yan!reader now hear me out… what abt yan!reader and then mommy & dad🫣 (separately or combined idk)
its easy to do seperately, cant imagine a yandere fussing over two people personally
motherly/fatherly w yandere reader...
cw;; dubcon, nsfw, kidnapping, riding, drugging/aphrodisiacs, reader is stronger in general
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ㅡmotherly...
ㅡyou knew you were too far gone,,, no helping you! i mean, you definitely had the money for extensive therapy, but... seeing him was all the therapy you need. looking at him was a breath of fresh fucking air - even if he didnt quite acknowledge you the way you wanted. it was his own fault... being so affectionate with you, his co-worker... getting all hard when he calls you sweet boy... it nearly makes you feel like a kid at the same time. you have something to prove now; that you weren't a kid - but still, being called sweet boy - i mean, fuck he had to know he was doing something to you if he was constantly referring to you as that right? maybe he knew all about your sick perversions - stalking him, keeping tabs on him, keeping miscellaneous underwear you stole from his drawer - yeah, obviously he wouldnt know...
you werent scared of his yells for help, if he decided to do so. soundproof walls - well-off that you didnt quite have neighbors to butt into your business... grinning at his writhing, half naked form on your bed - nearly cumming in your pants at his own heavy breathing, trying to rub his thighs together to ease his poor erected cock,,, having presented him with all of your admiration for him - photos of him strung up on the wall in front of him; you liked to wake up to him afterall...
ㅡ"d-don'tㅡ" the words die on his lips, and he could only lean to give you more room to work with. so needy with his acquaintanc he paid no mind to... "b-but ah, mommy..." you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathless and burning with arousal and mere excitement, he was on your bed; strung up and squirming with an aching boner - "you're in so much pain... you really like when i call you mommy, huh?" you grinned - he shakes his head, side to side in a futile attempt of denying you; yelping softly as your hand glides across his bulge with no warningㅡ"y-yes... yes-!" he cried out - bucking into your touch - christ, okay, jeez... dont need to do all that... so dramatic...
fatherly,,, ahemrhm.
he was definitely... alluring. it was sickening how many of your cowrokers fell for his disgusting charms. you were strong. nothing like them. they were so weak... scoffing at he passes you - "that's my boy." with a gentle caress on your upper back. and... obviously, this is some sort of insult, right? belittling you... you had enough. enough of merely stealing his inutile trash of pens and tissues to jerk off toㅡyou had enough of this man; constantly patting your shoulder and staring at you so kindly as though he was some kind of proud father... making you feel a disgusting fuzzy warmth in your tummyㅡ
he was talking to you about something. you couldnt pay attention, but you knew you werent in trouble. he looked worried... he finishes with a gentle sigh and small smile, before he turns toward his office door - and there you were, perfect timing-!! slamming against him and locking the doorㅡsyringe in his neck. the desired outcome was near instantaneousㅡcatching him in your arms with a soft huff as he mewls -
ㅡstill charismatic as fuck. obviously, thats what drew you to him in the first place... "gross..." you grumble cruelly - smiling cruelly as you catch a glimpse of his half-hard weeping cock bouncing up and down with your half-assed self pleasurable thrusts - "you like this?" you hiss, burying your face in the crook of his neck and continuing lowlyㅡ"you like being drugged up and fucked stupid in your own office? fucking gross." it was the effects of the syringe... but, still. you take this as a win. he breathes out soft, drawn outㅡah, ah, so whorishly as you fuck him on your prick.
reaching down and languidly stroking his cock to a full stiffy - aren't you so thoughtful? "doing so good for meㅡdad..." you praise gently, lifting your hand slick eith his pre-cum to his saliva-slick parted lips - tracing them with his cum on your fingersㅡhe whines softly, eyes rolling back before leading his gaze toward you; half-lidded and drooling, his walls clamping on your cock and practically milking youㅡ"nn-not... dad..." he grumblesㅡyou scoff, shoving your fingers passed his lips and feeling the way his tongue so eagerly laps at his own cumㅡ"sure act like it. treating me so good... i cant help but pay you back..."
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ayoogirlie · 8 months
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"Stars" Lilia Vanrouge x GN!Reader
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content: random thoughts, fluff to angst, general lilia fell in love with a human
note: it's my first work so I'm not confident with it, also I don't like the ending, could've done it better
word count: 485
not proof-read
Stars. For most people, they're just fireballs which decorate the night sky. For Lilia, they're friends who accompanied him on many lonely nights during the war. They were also with him when he met his unforgettable love for the first time.
It was a starry night. No clouds disturbed its peace of mind. Young fae took a stroll around their camp to make sure, if there weren't any enemies around. As he strayed farther away, he noticed a weak sight of smoke. He got closer to its source and noticed a small, wooden house. Light streamed out the windows, informing about the life inside him. Lilia came closer and looked through the glass barrier that protected the person inside the cottage. Its interior was equipped with only necessary gear like a table, a bed or a worktop. He paid it no mind and looked for a person who lived inside it.
In front of the large mirror stood a young adult. They've been checking out their attire, spinning around and posing. General found their act odd and thought that person was simply crazy. He shook his head and quietly left, finding that place unimportant and not threatening.
Stars accompanied him when he checked out on them again and again with the excuse of not trusting humans. They also were with him when he finally decided to strike up a conversation with that person. His reasoning? "They might be a spy." Lilia hated humans, it was a fact. So when he found himself drawn to the resident of the cottage, he concluded he was cursed by them. He was wary of that person, he wanted to keep them in check, but soon enough he just wanted to stay by their side. With them he felt at peace. He was ready to throw all his prejudice away.
The stars were there when the gentle brushes of their touch became more possessive, when their eyes were focused only on each other and when they whispered their vows to one another.
The only time the stars weren't there for him was when he had to say goodbye to his beloved. Who thought they could get involved in war? They were innocent soul who loved someone like him. That love killed them. He thought people wouldn't dare to touch his lover. Oh, how foolish he was. Villagers, who lived nearby, got rid of them because they were precious to a fae, to a general who terrified many living beings around him.
He buried his face in their already cold body. Various emotions were mixed in his heart, fighting for the lead. He wanted revenge, he wanted to make them all aware what awaits fools who dare to touch what's his. Even so, it wouldn't make him happy again since they're already dead. They wouldn't come back to him no matter what he did.
It was already too late for them.
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You Belong to Me
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*Not my GIF
This is the first thing I’ve written in years but Shadow and Bone (and particularly Nikolai Lantsov!) is my new hyperfixation and I had the urge to write something, so here we are. Based on the prompt: “Mine.” “Say it again.” which I got from tumblr forever ago.
Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Nikolai and they get jealous seeing someone else flirting with him so they decide to remind him who he belongs to. Turns out the King finds jealous/possessive reader a turn on, who would have guessed?
Word count: 2K
Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. A tiny hint of a plot but really it’s just smut, hand job, jealousy/possessiveness, slight praise kink if you squint, reader can be any gender you like, I’ve left it deliberately vague for your reading pleasure :)
The grand ballroom was so full that you could barely move an inch without bumping into a visiting noble, courtier or ambassador of some sort. Musicians were playing at one end of the room and waiters flitted about with trays of champagne.
You scanned the crowd in an effort to locate the King. Your eyes found him finally near of the centre of the room, surrounded by young ladies and you sighed, because of course he was. You had only left Nikolai’s side for a few minutes, but that was all it took for the vultures to descend. You supposed you couldn’t really blame them, he was gorgeous. Intelligent and charming too. Wherever he went, people were drawn to him like moths to the proverbial flame. Your relationship with the King had started many years before, when he was just a wayward second son with little hope of ever inheriting the throne and though his circumstances had now changed, your love for each other remained stronger than ever. Nikolai could be a bit of a flirt, but you trusted him implicitly. You knew without a doubt that anyone trying to tempt him would fail. He would be going home with you, still that didn’t stop the surge of jealousy that burned uncomfortably in your stomach as you made your way across the room to join the group. Nikolai’s eyes lit up as he saw you approach and he reached for you immediately, wrapping his arm around your waist without even the slightest hint of hesitation. You watched with a perverse sense of satisfaction as obvious disappointment flitted over the faces of his companions and several of the ladies politely excused themselves, quickly losing interest now they knew for certain that the King was taken. The last young lady however, was not so easily deterred. She looked you up and down with barely concealed distaste as Nikolai made the formal introductions and then finally she offered you a saccharine smile - entirely for his benefit you assumed, since it was obvious that it pained her to do so. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly. You would be nice if it killed you. It would only cause problems for Nikolai if you went around being rude to his guests, regardless of wether they deserved it or not. The other woman made no response, already turning her attention back to the King as if you hadn’t even spoken. Apparently she didn’t share your concerns about rudeness. Nikolai cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence, “Miss Antonova was just telling me about her home in Kerch.” “Oh yes,” Miss Antonova exclaimed, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger, “As I was saying, you must come for a visit, your highness. I know my father would be honored to host you.” “What a generous offer,” Nikolai smiled, “perhaps we may take you up on it someday.” The young woman beamed at him, pleased with his response. “We could make it one of the stops on our honeymoon,” you suggested, just to watch her face fall. “Absolutely not. I should not consider our honeymoon a success if we are to be fit for company at any point,” Nikolai grinned impishly and you shook your head fondly, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the implication. You could feel Miss Antonova glaring daggers at you. “Well, perhaps you could make the trip to Kerch on your own instead, moi tsar,” she simpered, batting her eyelashes at him, “I would be happy to volunteer as your personal guide.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I bet you would,” you muttered quietly under your breath, though not quietly enough if Nikolai’s sudden coughing fit was any indicator. Miss Antinova moved closer to him, her face creased in concern, “Goodness, are you alright?” She asked, laying a hand on his arm. You glared at her, touching the King was in no way appropriate. Nikolai gave you a look, shaking his head minutely - a gesture you knew to mean leave it alone. So you bit your tongue even though you wanted to tell her off. “Yes, I’m quite well,” Nikolai assured her once he had recovered, “My apologies.” Despite his reassurance, and the heat of your still disapproving glare, she did not move away or remove her hand. Instead, she moved further into his personal space, close enough to be considered indecent in your opinion. Her delicate hand curled around his clothed bicep. You struggled to fix a polite smile on your face when in your head you were fantasizing about breaking her fingers one by one. “Oh my, you have very strong arms,” she gushed and this time you did roll your eyes. For Saints sake. Nikolai met your gaze over the top of her head and you saw amusement dancing in his eyes. “I work out from time to time,” he told her with a wink, “It’s important to keep my army training up to date.” Miss Antonova giggled girlishly, as if he had said something ridiculously funny, and you decided that was quite enough. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse us,” you stated bluntly, “the King has an urgent, private matter to attend to immediately.” Rather than wait for a response, you turned and firmly grasping Nikolai’s hand, pulled him away and across the crowded room towards the door. Although he could easily have escaped your hold if he had wanted to, Nikolai followed you without complaint, allowing you to lead him out of the ballroom and through the Palace hallways as though he were a boy rather than the King. Entering his chambers you made sure to lock the door behind you and then you stalked towards him, forcing him backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. “Something wrong, my love?” He asked, an amused little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “The audacity of that woman,” you grumbled, “Mooning and flirting, and touching you! As if I wasn’t standing right there.” “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, eyes sparkling with affectionate humor, “I thought she was just being friendly.” “Friendly? She was all over you!” you objected. “Maybe a little bit,” he conceded with a slight tilt of his head, his smirk widening. “But you know that I would never accept her advances, or anyone’s for that matter,” he insisted earnestly as he reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind your ear, “So what does it matter?” “I didn’t like it, Kolya,” you muttered irritably, yanking at the knot of his cravat in an effort to remove it and almost choking him in the process. “Really?” he chuckled, “I hadn’t noticed.” He batted your hands away so he could loosen the offending item himself, pulling it free of his collar and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as he went. You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not funny.” He hummed in agreement as he dipped his head to kiss you, slow and sweet, just a soft brush of his lips over yours, but your were in no mood for romance. You nipped at his bottom lip impatiently, licking hot and demanding into his mouth when he opened up to you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue before you surfaced for air. You kissed an open-mouthed line across his jaw and down his throat, pausing to nip and suck at his pulse point. “Ah. Not above the collar,” he reminded you gently. You huffed, pressing yourself tighter against him and wedging a knee between both of his so that your thigh was pressed against his crotch. He was already hard and knowing it was because of you - not her - tempered your jealousy a little. Nosing down into the collar of his shirt to reach the juncture of his shoulder, you sucked a stinging bruise into his skin. His hips bucked in response. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired your handiwork, a surge of possessiveness rolling through you. “Mine,” you murmured as you laved your tongue over the offending mark. Nikolai groaned low in his throat, rutting against you more insistently. “Say it again,” he gasped. His voice was rough with arousal and you lifted your head to regard him, surprised by his reaction. You felt a heady rush of power as you looked him over. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. His lips were shiny and kiss–swollen and his face was flushed, a deep blush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. You had barely started and he was already wrecked. “You belong to me,” you purred in his ear, nuzzling at his throat as you reached a hand between you to stroke him through his pants. He made an involuntary keening sound, his eyes slipping closed as he pushed himself into your palm. “No one else gets to touch you like this, do they?” He shook his head frantically, hips straining towards you, desperately seeking more friction. You sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can’t hear you,” you chastised, “Use your words Kolya." “No,” he breathed, “only you.” “That’s right,” you agreed, smiling against his skin.
You rewarded him by freeing him from his pants and he moaned as you used the precum that had gathered at the head of his cock to slick your palm. He laid his forehead against yours, opening his eyes so that he could follow the movement of your hand as you jerked him in a firm, fast rhythm until he was panting. When you knew he was near his peak, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Mine,” you whispered possessively, a seductive smile on your lips. He shuddered, his head dropping to your shoulder and his hands tightening on your waist as he came with a soft cry, thick stands of cum covering your hand and the front of his shirt. He slumped against the wall, boneless in the aftermath of his orgasm. “Well,” he said breathlessly, “that was..,” “Intense? Incredible? Life changing?” you suggested helpfully, and he snorted a laugh. “I was going to say unexpected, but those work too.”
You brought your clean hand up to his throat, running your thumb over the dark bruises you had left just below the line of his collar. "I'm afraid I've made quite a mess," you said, "I'm sorry." And you were, now that the bitter sting of jealousy had faded and you had returned to your senses.
"Don't be. I don't know if you could tell but I rather liked it," Nikolai grinned, "and besides, I've made a mess of you too, so I'd say we're even."
"I suppose that's true," you agreed, bringing your hand up to your mouth. Your tongue snaked out to gently lap the remains of his release from your fingers and he groaned, scrubbing a shaky hand across his face. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused and you laughed as you leaned in to kiss him. Nikolai pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss but keeping it sweet and unhurried.
"Give me a moment to recover and I'll repay the favour," he promised.
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extrashotodepresso · 8 months
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Endeavor X Fem!Reader
To Hell With It
Warnings: SMUT 18+ Only , Minors DO NOT INTERACT, sex pollen, unprotected sex (again, don’t do this irl), questionable consent, cringy, office sex
Reblogs and comments always welcome. If you have something hateful to say, keep it to yourself. I write purely for my own enjoyment and post just in the event other people like cliche cringy smut just as much as I do. I know Enji is super shit through most of MHA, and a lot of people just hate on him in general but let’s be real- if we don’t let fantasy characters have redemption arcs, what hope do real people have?
Summary: Enji is hit with a sex pollen quirk and you, his assistant of 5 years decide to help him through it.
“Y/L/N.” The speaker on your desk rang out suddenly, causing you to jump. It was your boss and the nation’s number one hero, Endeavor. “Come to my office. Now.” His voice sounded odd—as clipped and dominant as ever, but obviously different.
He had been strange since returning from today’s patrol, covered in sweat and dashing into his office without so much as a greeting. While he wasn’t typically friendly; he would normally offer you, his head assistant of five years, a casual nod in the least. With a sense of urgency, you rushed away from your desk to go to him.
When you opened the doors to massive office, your eyes were immediately drawn to him. Endeavor was behind his massive mahogany desk, pacing and panting, his hands threading in his hair over and over. He finally stopped as you entered, spreading his arms out on his desk, brooding and clearly tense.
For a moment, you admired the hulk of a man, eyes raking over his broad shoulders and almost 7 foot frame. He was still in costume, though not using his quirk, an unusual sight while in the office. The lack of flames licking across his face made the large scar on his chiseled face stand out even more. Your heart skipped for a moment like a fan struck schoolgirl despite your increasing concern.
“Close the door.” He abruptly commanded you. You obliged, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible before approaching his desk like a frightened animal.
“Is… everything alright sir?” Your voice was strained, careful.
“I need you to do something for me.” He reached into his desk, pulling out a small red business card. He slapped it down, covering it with his hand and holding it still for a moment before he slid it across the desk, refusing to look you in the eyes. As you got closer to grab the card, you noticed a single bead of sweat roll off his forehead, landing on the wooden surface beneath him with a sizzle. He was quite literally burning up.
You looked at the card with trepidation.
“Call the number. Have them send someone immediately.” You looked down at the card in your hands; it was simply designed, a phone number with ‘Hero Escort Service’ written in bold black ink at the bottom. “Obviously, no one is to know about this.”
“An… escort sir?” You swallowed, not being able to look at him as your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.
Over the past five years you had looked after Enji Todoroki. Everything in his life he needed, you provided. You had been the one to arrange the paperwork for his divorce, had made him almost every meal when he needed to eat, arranged meetings with his children who seldom showed, ran all his errands and… you had been stupid enough for fall for him. Not that he had any idea.
He didn’t respond.
“W-why?” You managed to stutter.
“I didn’t call you in here to ask questions.” His voice was uncommonly stern with you. “Just do it (Y/N).” Yikes, he used your first name. A pregnant pause erupted in the room; your mouth feeling dry as you struggled to grasp the concept.
“No.” You managed to say with finality.
“Excuse me?”
“No.” You finally tore your gaze from the card in your hands, looking to Endeavor with pleading eyes. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” The words you wouldn’t speak hung in the air silently… This isn’t like you.
You realized now, that’s exactly why he was asking you. He couldn’t—not with as prideful of a man as he was—debase himself like this. The question was, why was he asking you to?
“(Y/N). I will not tolerate your insubordination in this, or any other matter. Call it.” He lit the flames of his quirk as if to intimidate you. You didn’t falter.
“Something’s wrong.” You said, ignoring his display. You stiffened your posture, staring him down with all the strength you could muster. “I never question you, sir. Just this once, I need to know. Why are you doing this?” He looked you up and down, as if appraising you and there was something behind his eyes that made you tingle. He seemed to consider your question, you could read that he was debating wether or not to disclose something.
“I got hit with a quirk. This is the cure. Handle it or I will find someone who can.”
“What kind of quirk needs…” you trailed off, then, as if against your will your eyes dragged down his body, down his hero suit and you noticed the sizable tent in his pants. “Oh.” You swallowed, though your mouth still felt quite dry. He offered no additional information and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the crackling of his quirk’s fire.
You looked at the card again, then turned the phone on his desk to you. He watched you with interested eyes but still said nothing. You dialed something frantically and waited for a response, taking off your suit jacket while you did.
“Yes, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Inform the security team to clear the top floor and enter into lockdown. Yes, just this floor, all other levels are to remain operational.” A pause. “Immediately.” Another pause. “Exactly. Endeavor is not to be disturbed, this is a direct order. Thank you.” You hung up the phone, trying to hide the fact that your hands were shaking.
“What are you doing?” Enji asked with interest and a little frustration. “I thought I told you-“
“You told me to handle it.” You quipped back. “Even if I call now, they’re not going to send someone here in time. These quirks just get worse until you… feel better, right?” You raised a brow. You had learned about sex pollen quirks in school. In most cases, the symptoms just get worse until the individual affected has sex to completion. Trying to fix it themselves wouldn’t even work, which is why there were agencies specially designed for heroes with this type of predicament. But you weren’t going to allow your Endeavor to degrade himself like that.
“… Yes.” He was still panting, looking over your body with a heavy swallow. He must’ve felt worse than you realized, judging off of his tensed muscles and desperate tone in his voice. How long could he possibly hold on? “But I-I can’t- not with you.”
You ignored the fact that that last bit tore your heart into a million pieces. The man you loved was in physical pain, your feelings hardly mattered right now. (Besides, you thought to yourself, given that sentiment this opportunity may never come again.)
“Please, sir…Enji.” At the sound of his name leaving your lips he moaned. “Let me help you.” You began to unbutton your blouse, looking into his eyes as you did. This was in a way embarrassing, would he be able to tell how you felt by looking at you? You chewed the inside of your cheek. You heard a feral sound emit from deep inside him as the opening of your shirt exposed your bra underneath.
“(Y/N).” He said, as if in warning. You finished removing your shirt, allowing it to fall on the floor and slowly began unzipping the back of your skirt.
“I promise, I’ll do everything I can to please you- just… let me help you, Enji.” I’ll do anything, but please don’t let it be someone else. Your skirt fell to the floor and you stepped out of it; leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear, stockings and heels.
He made his way around the table and just as you were reaching for your bra clasp he grabbed your arm to stop you.
“(Y/N).” He growled and the sound made your stomach flip. You looked into his eyes. His eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation though he found none. “I- If you stay in here like that I’m not going to control myself and- and I don’t want to hurt you.” The words came out in a broken whisper. He was shaking, clearly holding back his last ounce of self control. “Anyone but you.”
You ignored his plea, instead standing on the toes of your heels as you grabbed his face and gave him a searing kiss.
It was the kiss you had wanted to give him on your very first day. The kiss you had wanted to give him the first time he patted your head and told you you had done a good job. The kiss you had wanted when you saw him sitting alone in his office, staring at his phone with agony on his face as he desperately wished to fix his past. The kiss you had wanted when you were terrified he would be killed by the Nomu, the kiss you had wanted every single day after when you were just happy to see him. Your Hero, your Endeavor, your Enji. You hoped every ounce of that feeling could be transferred via skin, that with the crude brush of your lips he knew what you were desperately trying to say.
The way he returned your kiss you thought he might. You quickly became a clash of tongues and teeth, sloppy unhinged kisses driving you absolutely insane. You managed to pull away for a moment, the two of you panting.
“I promise… I can take it.” You kissed him a little more gently this time, feeling him groan into your mouth. His back shivered as you looped your arms around his chest, gripping for purchase wherever you could find it.
He lifted you off the ground, his tongue probing your mouth desperately as you tried to keep up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moved your grip from his chest to his shoulders, your hands moving over his neck and your fingers in his hair. You bit his lip, pulling it into your mouth with a gentle suck and he stuttered and growled. The violence of the sound shook his body and vibrated yours and you practically purred at the feeling.
“I’m going to destroy you, princess.” He let out in an animalistic warning. He shoved you onto his desk, using his hands to knock everything onto the floor before he pushed you down. You whimpered with the force of it as your head hit the desk, your legs were still wrapped around his waist and he ground himself against you, the bulge in his pants causing enough friction to make you gasp.
He kissed you while your mouth was open, tongue delving into your mouth attempting to swallow you whole. You were the one shaking now, desperate for every bit of what was coming. His lips seared down your throat, he let the flames of his quirk die out and you felt the scratch of his stubble searing your neck and chest as he travelled lower.
He grabbed your bra by the front, causing your back to arch off the desk towards his chest and he used his quirk to singe it off of you, the fabric giving way as he snapped it off your body. The sudden movement stung but you didn’t notice as his mouth hungrily attacked your right breast. His right hand grabbed at your left, massaging the tender flesh as he continued his oral assault. You arched further into him, panting and whimpering pathetically as your legs squeezed him harder.
He left your breast, licking down your stomach, using his hands to spread your legs off him while he lapped at your flesh. He landed a harsh nip at your hip as he kneeled on the ground. You shreiked and felt him smile into your flesh as he continued lower.
“It’s almost like you planned this, princess.” He mumbled into your flesh, his kisses and bites moving across your thighs and toward the apex of them. “It’s like you’re wearing these just for me.”
You knew what he was referring to. The very expensive lingerie set he was ruining was in fact from the Endeavor fan line; you had rushed out to buy them as soon as you saw their release announced and you hated to admit it, but the navy blue lace set was your favorite to wear to work. The thought of dressing for him and having that as a secret not even he knew was a guilty pleasure for you.
“I am.” You managed to gasp out as you felt his thick fingers caress the fabric. “It’s all for- you!” The last admission you might be embarrassed by had your thoughts not been otherwise occupied as he moved your panties to the side and shoved a finger deep into your unprepared hole. “Fuck!”
“Already so wet- what a naughty girl you are for me- if I had known…” whatever else he was about to say was lost as he brought his other hand down to singe off what was remaining of your underwear. The heat on your skin caused you to flinch, the sudden jut of your hips shoving his finger in deeper. Without warning his mouth landed on your clit, beginning an unforgiving assault with his tongue while he curled his finger deep inside you.
You were already close to snapping and he had just gotten started. His tongue felt like heaven, you swore you felt him searing his name into you. You hoped he was. Your hands gathered into his hair, your hips bucking into his face. When he inserted a second finger you looked down, as you noticed his starved eyes searing into you, watching your reactions to him you immediately came, clenching hard around him as you shook with a scream. He pulled back, watching you unravel and drip all over him. Enji let out a dark chuckle.
“Now I see why you told them to empty the entire floor. So loud- am I making you feel good, princess?” You let out a pathetic whimper at the use of the nickname, trying to shake your head yes- god you wished your brain wasn’t so blank, maybe you could tell him—“Well don’t forget, you’re here to please me, princess.” He pulled his pants down, allowing his massive raging red member to spring free. At the sight of it, your eyes widened, you tried pathetically to squirm back- there was no way—“Ah, ah ah-“ he tutted condescendingly. Now standing, he gripped your open thighs and dragged you closer to him, you could feel wetness of your own slick beneath you on the desk spread over your ass. “You promised you could handle it, and good girls don’t break their word.” His smile was dark and you felt your pussy clench at his words.
He held his cock in his hand, pumping it languidly and you wondered if this quirk he had been hit with was even that bad. He had an amazing sense of control-you had always heard that sex quirks made people go into a desperate frenzy, but the only person who seemed affected like that was you.
Enji dragged the underside of his cock along your folds, your poor overstimulated pussy quivered at the sensation.
“Hope you meant it princess- would hate to break my new toy as soon as I got it.” He muttered to himself as he lined up with your opening and began to push inside. “Fuck- (Y/N) you’re so- too- f-fuck-“ he stammered and you saw his control slip for a moment before he rammed himself all the way inside you. You yelped in pain from the suddenness of it, never had you had someone so…
“S’big” you whimpered weakly “S’too big Enji-“
It seemed he didn’t hear you as he began thrusting at an unrelenting speed. His arms braced themselves at your side, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he pounded you without compassion. Even the desk began creaking at the severity at which he was fucking you. He curled his body in closer, intolerably hot breath in your ear as he continued.
He had lost all control. He was grunting and whining and whimpering and repeating your name like a mantra, losing himself completely within you. You couldn’t feel pain anymore, just Enji. His crushing weight on your body, the heat rolling off him in waves, every vein of his cock dragging along your most sensitive spot; he was sending you hurling toward another release at breakneck speed.
“F-f-fuuu-“ you couldn’t even complete a single word. So this is what they meant by fucked dumb, huh? What the fuck had you been missing all this time?
He suddenly pulled out of you, leaving you to pathetically whimper at his absence.
“Enji- please-“ you quietly sobbed out. He grabbed your thighs again, using them to flip you over onto all fours on his desk, forcing your knees beneath you and your ass in the air before he thrust into you again.
“Gonna make you mine-“ he growled, and his voice was all you could hear. “Gonna mark you, gonna fill you up-“ this new angle had him impossibly deeper, you could feel him splitting you completely apart over his length.
“P-pleeease!” You finally managed coherence with a pathetic plea. The sound that came out of him was like a surprised sort of pleasure, like he hadn’t expected you to be so eager at the idea.
“You’d like that slut? Huh? Want me to fill you up with my cum? Hm?” When you didn’t immediately respond, he unleashed a quick but effective slap on your asscheek, forcing your dumbed out brain to process his words.
“Want all of it- please- please daddy~” his hand came up from your thigh and to your throat; not choking you but holding you up and arching your back to him as he turned your face to look at him. He looked into your fucked out eyes, seemingly trying to convey something to you in his stare before he settled on kissing you again.
He dragged his tongue along your lips, continuing his thrusting as he kissed you with a juxtaposed tenderness. You tried your best to kiss him back, but your lips were moving stupidly against his, the angle of your head uncomfortable and your hips doing their best to keep up with him taking up most of your attention. He curled his hand just a bit tighter around your throat and you exploded; flashes of white blinding you as you clamped down on him, your body spasming wildly as you lost yourself in him.
“Fuck- I’m cumming-“ he growled in your mouth as you felt a burning hot release inside you, rope after rope of cum filling you up. He fucked you through it and you felt his essence weeping around his cock and down your slit, collecting on the table below you.
Holy fuck this was glorious.
He didn’t stop kissing you for a moment, if anything he became more impassioned, biting and sucking your lips and tongue as his hips stuttered inside you. Even as his movements slowed, the kiss continued, slowing down but never stopping. When he realized you needed to breathe, he kissed the side of your mouth, your jaw, your back, and finally stilled inside you. You slowly collapsed down onto your forearms before allowing yourself to fully melt onto the table, cheek pressed to the cool surface while you tried to catch your breath.
You felt him soften a bit inside you but he refused to pull out.
You were a panting, drooling, dumb-fucked mess and when you felt him nibble at your ear the sensation distracted you enough to not hear whatever it was he just said.
“Huh?” You managed, dimly. He finally left you, gently rolling you back over to face him and allowing you to lie fucked out on the desk below him.
“How. Long?” This time he punctuated the words with kisses to your cheek and stared in your face waiting for an answer. His hand came up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek gently.
“How long what?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, (Y/N).” He growled and glared down at you. You knew what he was asking but smiled despite yourself as you replied;
“Whatever do you mean Enji?” You chewed your lip, your previous feeling of confidence and ecstasy dissipating rapidly. He refused to repeat himself so the two of you simply stared at one another awkwardly. “I told you, I just wanted to help.” You tried to cover. He had told you before any of this that he wanted it to be anyone but you, how could you possibly admit how you felt now?
“I know you do.” He said, with sudden certainty. “So answer the question before I have to punish you.” His cock twitched against you as if reminding you of his capability to do so. You instinctively bucked into him again, the overstimulation of you both causing the two of you to gasp.
“You know I do what? Enji, I do everything for you. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to help you with this too? Why would there be an ulterior-“
“You love me.” He clarified, not willing to tolerate your stalling anymore. “How. Long.”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever. Ironic, really, considering what you had done.
“How long have I been working here?” You cracked a broken smile, feeling utterly pathetic.
“Five years, sixty-one days and fourteen hours.” He answered without hesitation. Your eyes widened as you studied his expression. What had been a stern gaze had become a soft smile, if not a little sad.
“There you have it.” You admitted. You both sat in the pregnant silence for a while.
“To hell with it.” He said, as if he had just decided something. He leaned down and kissed you again, with a gentle tender passion that slowly grew. You eagerly returned the kiss, feeling his length harden against you and his arms creep around your torso.
He pulled you up to a seated position- he picked you up and moved you to the couch in the center of his office. He laid you down gently, reaching over your head, feeling for something through your kiss until you heard a click. He had reclined the futon so it laid flat to give you both more room. You smiled into him, it was weirdly considerate and a little romantic of him.
You pulled at the hem of the top of his costume- wanting there to be nothing between you and he readily obliged. After doing so he brought your legs up over your head and peeled your stockings down one by one. Clearly, he felt the same. He removed those and your heels gently, and your skin prickled at his soft and careful touch.
This was certainly different.
You pulled away from the kiss, suddenly distracted by your own thoughts.
“Wait- I thought- has the quirk not worn off?” You were a little out of breath already again, his tender kisses were dizzying.
“It has.” He returned his lips to yours, slowly moving his hips back to adjust his angle before slowly pushing himself back inside of you. You gasped into his mouth as he began to make actual love to you, your brain slowly losing out to the sensations of pleasure.
“Enji-“ you moaned into his mouth.
“You’re mine now, (Y/N). I’m never letting you go.”
You spent the next several hours having a soft, gentle love making marathon. By the end of it, you simply passed out in his office, you wouldn’t be able to stand anyway.
He sent away for someone else to bring you some clothes; after all his secretary was busy at the moment. She would be for a long time.
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fariesoiree · 1 month
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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“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?
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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.
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sailor-aviator · 7 months
Text
Meet Me at the Sea: Prologue
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Meet Me at the Sea: Prologue
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: None.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: Here it is! The new series that absolutely no one asked for, but I decided to give to you! But seriously, I'm really excited for this one because it's been in my head for months, so long before fanfiction even crossed my mind. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates there as well.
Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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You had always been fascinated by the ocean, drawn to it really. You supposed that most people were. The ocean was where all life originated, after all, and perhaps there was some innate desire to return to where one once came from. A desire so strong that it was embedded into the very fabric of one’s being to be passed on to future generations.
That’s what you mused, anyway. You, however, had very little experience with the sea, having grown up in a land-locked area of the country. The closest you had ever been to a large body of water was the local lake in the nearby state park. The closest you had ever been to the ocean, were the times you had successfully convinced your parents to take you to the aquarium in the city. You would spend hours there, entranced by the different creatures. You’d stare as the all the fish and different sharks swam above you in a timeless dance that you so desperately wished you could join in. Your favorite part, however, was always the stingray pool. You loved how affectionate the creatures seemed to be, eagerly swimming closer to the surface so that your fingers could glide down their backs. You could stay there forever if the aquarium didn’t have a strict closing time.
Your love for the ocean translated into your every day life too. You had several figurines from your visits to the aquarium, but your prized possession was a stuffed cownose ray your parents had gifted you oh so many years ago that you had affectionately named “Rusty.” This often surprised people, who assumed it would be the porcelain figurine your grandmother had brought back from one of her overseas trips for you
The mermaid was beautiful, yes. Her skin glowed with how pale she was, hair floating like she was still in the water. Her tail was painted a light blue that almost looked silver. You adored the figurine, of course, but she was certainly no rusty.
So, it came as no surprise to anyone who had met you that you chose to pursue marine biology in university. Your parents had been so proud when you had been accepted into Duke University, but they had also been hesitant.
“That’s a long way from home,” your father had reminded you. “If something happens, it’ll be hard for us to come and get you.”
“Your father’s right, dear,” you mother had frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
And you had been. You had never been more sure of anything in your entire life. So, you had packed what you could and your parents drove you out to your new home for the next four years. You had made several friends during your time at school, but the one that stood out the most was Bob Floyd.
Bob was a quiet guy, but he was funny and quick as a whip. You had met him in one of your biology courses freshman year, and you found out quickly that he was also studying marine biology.
“What got you into the field?” he had asked you.
“I don’t know exactly,” you had hummed. “I suppose I’ve just always loved the ocean.”
You turned to him. “What about you?”
“Me?” He laughed. “Oh, I grew up on the coasts. Right here in North Carolina, in fact. My hometown is just a couple hours away from here.”
“Oh, so you’re a local,” you grinned.
“I suppose you could say that,” he smiled.
You two had been inseparable ever since. Well, at least during the school year. You would take small trips with your girlfriends during weekend breaks, only flying home for the longer ones, much to Bob’s annoyance.
“When are you gonna take me up on my offer to just spend the summer at my folk’s place?” he huffed in a laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully at him from where you lay sprawled out on his bedspread, several textbooks scattered around you. Bob was seated at his desk, textbooks also cracked open as the two of you studied for finals. “I’m serious, y/n. It’s senior year, and I’d really like if my best friend would come hang out with me for the summer.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” you started, stopping when Bob scoffed, shooting you a scowl.
“You’re never a bother. And where’s that same attitude when you’re over here eating all of my poptarts?”
“That’s different,” you giggled.
Bob glared playfully at you. “I beg to differ. Besides, you’d be doin’ me a favor. I’m always so bored when I’m at home. I could really use the company.”
“Wow, what a ringing endorsement,” you joked, Bob rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it, alright? I want to see what my parents have planned.”
As it would turn out, your parents had planned a trip abroad for the whole summer, and you were left with no other option but to accept Bob’s proposal.
“Don’t sound so happy,” he had laughed. “You love the ocean, and the house is right on the beach.”
“I am happy,” you countered, loading your bags into the back of his car. “But, I’m worried that I’ll just be an imposition.”
“For the thousandth time,” Bob said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “you are not an imposition. My parents love you, remember? Sometimes, I think they like you more than they like me. Do you really think they would have let me invite you if they didn’t? Hell, I had to fight’em to keep’em from inviting you themselves.”
Bob’s parents were a sweet couple. Susan was a stay-at-home mom turned entrepreneur, while Richard was a tech developer, and both absolutely adored their only son. They had latched onto you the second Bob had introduced you to them during one of the home football games they had driven up to see, and now they considered you the daughter they never had.
“How did they react when you told them I was coming?” you asked him with a grin. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Pretty sure there’s a mountain of balloons waiting for us when we get there,” he mused, closing the door to the trunk. The two of you rounded the different sides of the car before getting in. Once your seatbelt was fastened, you looked up to see Bob giving you a peculiar look. You returned it with a confused one, and he looked down pointedly at your lap.
“Rusty does not sit in the back,” you said, hugging the stuffed ray closer. Bob let out a little laugh as he held his hands up in surrender.
“You sure you remembered everything?” he asked you as he started the car. You nodded, shifting in your seat to get more comfortable.
“I’m sure.”
“Alright then,” he grinned, turning to you. “Let’s get goin’.”
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