#none of these are smutty btw

[achilles-rage]

i have too many drabbles swirling around in my tiny little brain, help me choose which one to finish/post next

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

[fullsunstrawberry]

heyy! if this is a request you do not want to do then you can ignore it but what about dreamies x fancallwinner!reader where reader gives their number as a joke not expecting them to text back but they end up doing so? can be sfw or nsfw but the thought popped into my head . i love your work btw!!

nct dream text reactions: Fancall Winner

requested?: yes <3 if you want a more smutty one let me know <3

[dreamie masterlist]

warnings: none

a/n: ignore that the contact is already saved…was too lazy to change them

general taglist (18+)

taglist <3 : @vvsmydiamonds127 @loveforred @rmslover (ask to be added to taglist)

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Four

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter needed to happen to expand the plot. Don't worry, smut is coming soon - like next chapter soon! BTW this was written after episode 7 of Helluva Boss, Full Moon events have not yet happened.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Four - The Meeting

Content Warning: none, but let me know if I missed any!

Husk said he didn’t think you liked surprises and boy was he right. 

Charlie screamed the second you entered the kitchen, thrusting a present box into your arms. You were pissed, having not slept, tossing and turning in the silence of the night. 

You really needed to find a radio - it’s music had lulled you to sleep in the past - but now you were hesitant. The radio was Alastor’s domain, and you didn’t know what kind of power the device would have now that he was back in Hell. 

It’s the same reason why you never got a cell phone - you didn’t want Vox tracking your whereabouts or having access to your video camera. It would be a lot easier to figure out who you were if you did. 

You used the new collection of syrups and powders to make real creations for the staff to enjoy. You had to admit, it was fun, and finally gave you a chance to make a jasmine latte to your liking - something you hadn’t had since your early days working at the cafe. 

Alastor was nowhere to be found. So he didn’t see the tension in your body as you ate breakfast. He didn’t see you slip out after Angel and Husk got into it over the news of the Porn Star’s employer - now officially revealed to be Valentino. He didn’t see you tiptoe to your room, lock the door, pull your leather armor and cloak from the Void and clean them before today’s meeting. 

You checked for his shadow of course, to see if he was watching, but for whatever reason, the darkness was still. 

Doning your black garb, you double checked the silver stitching around the hood of your cloak, ensuring the magic seal was still intact. A few loose strands caught your attention but nothing serious enough to disrupt the enchantment. 

Okay. You were going out. In broad daylight. To attend a meeting with the most powerful Overlords in Hell. 

What could go wrong? 

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“Ope! Ope! Ope! Ope!” 

You landed on the sidewalk in a pile of… eggs? 

They stopped their incessant noise making before turning to you, confused but intrigued by the smoke pooling at your feet. 

“Are you on fire?” 

“Why can’t we see your face?”

“You smell like jasmine.” 

“Can I touch your cloak?” 

Sir Pentious’ eggs. What were they doing here? 

You took the elevator to the penthouse - which was really weird. Normally you’d just fly to the top and take the terrace entrance in, but Carmilla Carmine was hosting and she had earned your respect. Not simply because she had invited you, but for the many things before. 

“...I’m sure you’ve all been wondering!” Alastor’s voice hits you at the same time as the static finds your skin. 

Fuck.

“Not really, but welcome back in any case.” You tried hard to hold back your snort as you rounded the corner, appearing at the entrance of the conference room. 

“Ah, you’ve made it,” Carmine gestures to you. 

All eyes flit to you, cementing you to the tile floor where you stood. You did your best to keep your eyes locked with Carmilla’s not wanting to send the wrong message with a wondering gaze. You weren’t here to challenge anyone, certainly not on your first day, you were here as a guest of Carmilla’s and to stake a claim to the seat which has been offered. 

They room falls silent before Zestial finally speaks up. “Tis this the infamous Shadow thou spoke of, Carmilla?” 

You bow your head to the Overlord - and you mean “The” Overlord for he was the first. You had never met him in person before, but you’ve heard of him. 

God, he was even more glorious in person. You could taste the power wafting off him from where you stood. 

“What the heck! What is he doing here?” Zeeze began to protest. 

The colors of her fur were wild enough to make you sick. 

“I invited him,” Carmilla answered dismissively as if it was obvious. Zeezee and a few of the other Overlords protested save for Rosie and Alastor. You didn’t dare turn to them, however, you couldn’t risk anyone in this room catching any hint of your relationship with the Queen of the Cannibals nor could you risk Alastor suspecting any familiarity. 

Fucking Alastor. You blocked out his gaze the most from your mind.  

“The Shadow has risen to power faster second to none other than Alastor himself.” She gestures to the Radio Demon whose eyes haven’t left your form. “He now holds enough souls to rival even your own count, Zeezee. He’s earned a spot at this table.” 

Ha. Fuck you. 

“This is the Shadow…” Rosie chimes in. “Ha! I thought he’d be taller.” She laughs from Alastor’s side. 

“Well then!” The Radio Demon’s smile reappeared, catching you off guard. It’s a really good thing they couldn’t see your hands shaking beneath the cloak. “Please, do take a seat!” He motioned with his microphone to a chair at the end of the table. A shadowed hand wrapped around the leg and pulled it out, inviting you to sit. Once the others saw Rosie and Alastor cave, they felt a bit more relaxed - not enough to drop their guard, however.  

Rosie’s eyes caught yours at the other end of the table. She gave you an imperceptibly small smile, fleeting so as not to attract too much attention. 

At least you had one ally in this room. 

“This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost,” a slide projector turns on behind her. “With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we…” The door slams inwards, a loud-mouthed Velvette barging into the meeting. 

God, it was good that you needed to keep yourself composed here, otherwise you’d rip her head off and burn it to ashes. Every interaction you had with her just pushed the line more and more. 

She hangs up the phone, turning to grab the back of your chair and… “What in the Hell is this!?” Velvette motions to you sitting in the chair. “What is this piece of trash doing, sitting in my seat!?”

Smoke began pooling at your feet, angrily twisting about itself in waves. 

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining us?” Carmilla ignored her. 

“What? No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent or I would be if this wanker would get out of my seat.” 

You didn’t move an inch. Moving would be yielding power to Velvette and you couldn’t let that happen. 

“Velvette, let me introduce you to the Shadow,” Carmilla motioned to you. 

Her red sclera flit between you and the weapons-dealing Overlord. “Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of name is ‘Shadow’ anyway?” She snorted. “This is so going on my Sinstagram. I can’t… Oh!” The purple phone explodes in her hand. 

You didn’t do that… 

Alastor laughs from his chair, “Oh my, what a mess you’ve made.” Her phone lay in a heap on the ground, electrical sparks flying every which way. 

Her tan skin turned a beat red, “Listen here you cock-sucking…” Her hand phases through your cloak as she attempts to grab you. She stands stunned, staring at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it herself. 

It was a cheap trick, but oh-so satisfying when it happened. No one could take the cloak off of you. Not unless you were dead or they knew who you were. 

You loved old magic. 

Velvette stood shell-shocked and speechless. 

No one stood up for you. No one intervened. They were all just as curious to see what you would do next. 

With a snap of your fingers, you pulled a chair from the Void, surrounding the materialization process with blue flame - just for flare. It was a dingy chair, metal and worn - nothing compared to the grand plush ones set aside for the other guests. That, however, was intentional. Summoning the chair wasn’t giving in to her tantrum, it was an insult in and of itself.

“Thank you, Shadow,” Carmilla nodded to you. “So, as I was saying, we need to discuss…”

Velvette uses the chair as a stepping stool, shooting daggers with her eyes at your face. She steps before you, her feet on the table, blocking your view of the room. 

Bitch. 

“On the subject of discussion…” She throws the severed head of an Exorcist across the table.

Oh, here we go! A dead Exorcist - if that didn’t speed up your plans you didn’t know what would! 

You watched as Velvette launched herself into a - obviously rehearsed - speech regarding an assault plan on Heaven. 

Ha! Vox and Valentino sure had big balls if they think they can take the fight to them. On the other hand, you would love to see that happen. They’d be squished before they even made it to the gates, turned into a pile of recycled electronics and whatever the fuck moths had - feathers? 

You’d find some way to take Velvette down personally. Take her out in the chaos with an angelic blade and blame it on the Exorcists of Heaven. You wouldn’t have the credit for the kill of course but did you really need that to begin with? 

The only reason you were sitting here, showing the world a face, assigning a name to your killings was because of Rosie. She was the one to convince you to take hold of the power you so rightfully earned when you were adamant about staying in the shadows. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself, though; the power you had in sitting here, seeing Velvette’s face turn red, was worth it. 

“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing mightn't, they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” Zestial chimed in. 

You chuckled deep and low, earning a glare from Alastor. 

“Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” She jumps into the Overlord’s face. “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for…”

“You better show some respect!” Carmilla interrupts Velvette. 

Ugh, Sinners were always so dramatic. This was like dealing with the Crimson Mafia but worse - they didn’t have some Gen Z spoiled brat to deal with. 

You took advantage of the distraction, using the time to study each of the Overlord’s without them knowing. Zeezee was a big… uh… Hell hound? Which didn’t make any sense since Hell hounds were Native born, but that was a mystery for a different day. 

The Von Eldritch representative was absent, but you’d never interacted with him before either. The unnamed Overlord sat to Zeezi’s right, silent and emotionless. Carmilla and her daughters you had already known for years. Zestial was… God, he was a dream. 

The Overlord dripped with power. You wondered, just out of curiosity and not actuality, what he would be like to fight. He seemed so elegant and refined, sitting there sipping his tea. Is his fighting style much of the same? Would he seduce you with his lethality? You had heard that lesser demons flee just upon the sight of him. What has he done to earn such respect? You wanted to know, you wanted to…

Static crawled its way up your spine, freezing your muscles and silencing your thoughts. You felt the air shift beneath your smoke - no, the shadows shift beneath your smoke. They were cold, like how a summer day’s temperature drops in the shade. You could feel them as they shifted beneath you, slithering against your robes.

Alastor. 

You looked up to find the Overlord peering down at you, both hands crossed, his chin resting in his palms. His eyes were half-lidded as they raked over your cloaked form, like he was analyzing you, like he could see straight through the smoke and shadows to you underneath. It made you feel vulnerable. It made you feel weak. 

You met his gaze, not letting his intimidation show. You sensed curiosity from the Overlord. Sniffing, you tried again to smell his emotion, but the room was filled with the iritation wafting off of Velvette and Carmilla - cinnamon. Ugh, you hated cinnamon. 

Your eyes narrowed at the red demon, hoping he moves his gaze, but when he doesn’t relent you decide to repay his stare with a wandering set of eyes of your own. 

He was lean, yet built - his broad chest forming an upside down triangle disappearing into a slim waist line. Donning one of his well-pressed suits and matching slacks. His sense of style was impeccable you had to give him that - but of course, Rosie dressed him and you loved everything she made. Even if she forced you into a dress. He wore gloves - he always wore gloves - but his hands though…

Images of his claws scraping across your cheek and down your skin come flooding back. A shiver runs through your core at the memory of his touch on your neck, the way he licked his lips at the sight of the blood pumping through your veins. Alastor turned ravenous at the thought of tasting you. Fucking cannibals. 

But the way you moaned? God, how embarrassing. You had never made a sound like that in your life. Where had it come from? Why had it happened? 

And why did you like it?

Why did you want him to squeeze harder, to drag your lips to his…

Stop! 

Your face heated at the thought. Alarmed, you pulled your gaze back into your lap, earning a small chuckle from the Radio Demon. 

Where the fuck did that come from!? Get your shit together! You’re supposed to be a badass Overlord in a very important meeting right now. There was no space for thoughts of Alastor and… NO. NOPE. NOT GOING THERE.  

Of course such a devious man would be so enticing! It’s probably how he claimed his victims up top. Get them to like him and smile at them. Maybe he flirted and twirled their hair, before taking their hand and luring them into the dark forest with promises of… NO! STOP IT!

Jesus Christ, it was a really good thing no one could see your face right now. 

Velvette suddenly appeared, her nose mere inches from yours, “This isn’t fucking over!” She jumped to the ground, kicking the chair you pulled from the Void into the wall. “Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers! Kiss my ass!” She flipped you all off on her way out. 

It was silent for a beat before Alastor chimed, “That was a productive meeting!” 

What part of that was productive? 

The Overlords all got up from their chairs and headed for the exit, you follow suit, a little saddened at the fact that this meeting went nowhere. You had such high hopes the moment Velvette pulled out the severed head. Ugh, guess you were going to have to continue with Plan A. 

“Shadow,” Carmilla called. Her and her daughters hadn’t yet moved from their spots. “May I call on you later?” Zestial stood next to her, finishing his tea. 

You nodded before…

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Alastor stepped into your path, his hand outstretched. “Alastor, pleasure to meet you.”

Your palm was far, far smaller in his grip than you had expected. If his hands were this big then did that mean his…

You stifle a cough, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Charmed.”

His eyes narrow. 

Oh, he noticed. 

“May I interest you in a drink? I see it impertinent to get to know someone such as yourself as we may be able to… benefit one another.” The edges of his smile curled. It made your stomach bubble with anxiety - not the same feelings as butterflies, you should point out. 

Your eyes drifted back to the room, finding Rosie absent. You knew Alastor was going to pay an interest in the Shadow once he was made aware of your presence. You had risen to power just as fast as he had - how could he not pay attention to you? You just didn’t expect it right off the bat. 

“Alastor is a respectable man,” Carmilla jumps in. “He can be trusted” Her eyes weighed heavily on you. She was throwing you a bone, trying to tell you what to do in this situation. 

Alastor respected only those who respected him. Insult him and he will show you no kindness -  Vox being the prime example. You weren’t prepared to take him on just yet, and if he ever found out who you really were, it would completely derail your plans. Besides, if you shut the door now, there was no telling if or when it was going to open again. Remember what you had decided last night at the bar: get to know the Radio Demon, throw him off the scent. 

Pulling the obsidian calling card from your breast pocket, you held it out to him. “A drop of scarlet beneath night’s mistress.” 

A drop of scarlet: blood. The night’s mistress: darkness. Anyone in possession of an obsidian calling card merely had to drip a single drop of their blood atop the card. That drop of blood was the tie in you needed to begin a deal with whomever summoned you. 

Only certain people carried those cards, those who you had bestowed the gift upon. Only once had a card fallen into the wrong hands - and ONLY once. You would never let that happen again. Which was why, from here on out, you needed to be picky with whom you entrusted these to. You didn’t know if you could trust the Radio Demon, but again you couldn’t let this door close. 

“Oh! How ominous.” He slipped the card into his jacket pocket as you exited the conference room, doing your best to ignore the pinpoint glare on the back of your head and the demon who held it. 

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SLAM! Velvette kicks the door open, stomping her way into Vox’s office. “That cock-sucking bastard! Who the fuck does he think he is!?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, continuing to click away on the computer monitor, “No, please Velvette come right in.” 

The brat demon slumped into a chair, her boots kicking up on the desk’s top. The female Vee reclined in the chair, a look of pure anger on her face. “He sat in my seat. My seat! And insulted me right in front of the Overlords of Hell!” 

“Uh-huh,” Vox feigned interest, continuing to click away. 

“And the Old-ass Hag let him! They all just sat there and let him! Where was the fucking respect!?” The Vee jumped to her feet, a thumb jabbed into her chest. “I’m Velvette - the Velvette. I’m a fucking Overlord! He’s just a glorified bed sheet with an attitude!” 

“Yeah,” Vox switched to a different browser - still not listening.

“He’s dead.” Velvette declared, climbing onto the desk. “He’s fucking dead the next time I see him.”

“That sounds nice,” Vox mindlessly added. 

“That sounds nice? What… What the fuck are you doin’?” The female Vee reached down and spun the monitor around. 

A thousand tabs were open, each containing different social media page profiles, image searches, or links to various surveillance cameras around town. 

Velvette shot the media demon a dumb look. “This is why you had to skip the meeting!? You’re still lookin’ for that girl, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Vox pretended to look offended. “No! I’m not… I mean… Why would I…?” His words trailed off at the sight of Velvette’s irritated face. “Maybe.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Give me your phone,” she held out her hand. 

“Use your own phone!” The media demon snapped.

Velvette’s glare turned lethal. “You do not want to mess with me today, princess. Give me the goddamn phone!” 

Vox knew better than to argue with the female Vee when she was in a mood. 

Handing over the device, he watched as she clicked across various different media sites before she paused on one in particular. All in all she took about three minutes total of searching before she turned the device around.

And there you were. Hidden amongst a million photos of bugs and random blurry pictures of red ceilings and floors was you in Angel’s arms. 

“How the Hell…” Vox reached for his phone, staring dumbfounded at the photo.

Velvette smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye, “Guess where your mysterious Alley Girl is staying…” 

Vox read the page name, his one eye blinking red with rage, “Alastor…”

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“The Vees are going to be a problem,” Carmilla pondered, one hand wrapped around her chin. 

“I agree,” you growled from your place atop the terrace. The night was colder than expected - perhaps an ominous omen of what was to come. 

“What do you suggest, Mother?” Odette chimed from the chair. Her sister silent and still as always. 

“I suggest we do nothing,” she shrugged, “but wait and watch. If the Vees want to take up arms against the Angels they will not do so alone. We need to ensure that they stay alone.” At that, she eyed you. 

You knew what that meant - a lot of fucking nights at the V Tower listening to a whole lot of nothing. She needed you to play spy. Carmilla would do her part, of course, watching and learning using her own set of spies - she wasn’t one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell for her weapons business alone. 

You stood there and waited for her to name her price. Watching the Vees was in her best interest - not yours. She didn’t know that, but she knew you disliked them so and she knew your services weren’t free. They were never free. Finally, she laid down a number. You weren’t happy with it, but you also owed Carmilla for your seat at the table. Thus, you wouldn’t complain. 

Turning, you headed for the edge of the balcony, preparing to jump before she stopped you again. “I feel the need to explain myself.”

You had another place to be tonight and, of course, you were already late. 

You don’t turn back to her, expecting this to be brief. 

“My girls and I have known you from the beginning,” Carmilla began. From the corner of your eye, you watch Odette and Clara’s eyes grow big. “And although you don’t trust me anymore, know this. I do not do the things I do for you because of who you are, but because of who you have made yourself into.” 

Images of Clara’s blood and Carmilla’s screams fill your vision. You shake the memory away. 

“The last thing I wish to see is you harmed.” Her voice breaks. “I. Am. Sorry.”

Your eyes flit to Clara, yet the girl didn’t meet your gaze, guilt held in her tight-lipped mouth. 

You knew how sorry she was. You knew. 

You take off into the night. 

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From the shadows of the I.M.P office rose a figure clad in red. 

The imp working the desk jumped in shock, spewing coffee over the papers on his desk. “Holy shit! Mr. Radio… The Radio… Over… Demon Lord…”

“Alastor, is fine. Pleasure,” the demon smiled, his teeth and eyes practically glowing in the night. 

“Moxie! Millie! Fuck! Get in here!” He screamed at the door, sprinting to the otherside of the desk to pull out a chair. The wooden seat shoke in his arms, clacking against the floorboards. Even the Natives were afraid of him, it seemed. 

Two smaller imps burst through, but jumped back at the sight of the Overlord seated in front of Blitz’s desk. 

“The… The… Radio… De… Demon…” Moxie tried to speak from behind the cover of his darling wife, but words would not agree with him.

“Yes, yes,” Alastor waved. “I believe we’ve covered that part already, haven’t we?”

Blitz pulled out about fifty pens, only one making it into his hand and the other fourty nine spewing onto the floor. He ripped a few pieces of paper before finally pulling one free and set about writing notes. “What can we do ya’ for, your Overlordness?” He gave an awkward laugh, his elbow tipping the cup of coffee over on his desk. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Moxie get me a towel!”

The lesser imp and his wife disappeared from the room. 

“I need you to find someone for me,” Alastor purred, his hands resting atop his microphone. 

“Find someone… We don’t really do…” As Blitz talked, the green glare of Alastor’s aura began to fill the room. 

Blitz swallowed dryly, trying to think. “Yeah, Oh… Okay we can find someone for you. What’s their name?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor’s smile strained. He didn’t like not having the upper hand in any situation. Part of the reason why he was here, he needed more information. He needed leverage, just in case. 

“You don’t know…” Blitz rose an eyebrow. 

“What’s a hound got to do to get some sleep around…” A female Hellhound turned the corner, coming eye to eye with Alastor before slinking away, whining as she went. 

“No, I do not know, for they are already dead and do not go by their Christian name,” Alastor continued. 

“Already dead… What the fuck are you here for? We kill alive people.” Blitz was now thoroughly confused, but Alastor was having none of that. 

“I want information on who and what they did when they were alive,” His smile was strained against his teeth. His patience was being tested. 

“Why?” The imp asked. 

Wrong thing to say. 

“Oooooh, shit,” Blitz jumped behind his desk to shield himself from the growing mass that was Alastor’s demon form. “Okay! Okay!” The imp caved. “We’ll do whatever you want! We just need a name! Shit. Somewhere to start, at least!?” 

The Radio Demon shrank back, finally happy to hear some progress. It was getting harder and harder to contain his anger lately. 

“She goes by Thestral.”

-> Link to Chapter Five

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[ghcstao3]

Price survived the sarin gas inhalation but it benched him for quite some time so Ghost had to take over the CO's responsibilities.

so now Gaz joins Ghost and Soap on missions and is forced to listen to their horrible jokes on comms.

but one day Soap says something so smutty to Ghost that Kyle is convinced Soap's days are numbered but to his utter surprise Ghost rolls with it.

Gaz suspects that Soap's and Ghost's bond is deeper than they let on.

don’t worry, happens to the best of us haha. love this idea btw im so sorry it took me so long to get to it 😭

-

Gaz has seen and heard… a lot during his time in the military.

From having witnessed the much more traumatic gore and destruction and men gone mad with power to the decidedly less impactful crude jokes and stupid things soldiers get up to in their downtime, Gaz doesn’t think much could surprise him anymore.

As it would turn out, however, there’d been one thing that he’d left unaccounted for: his lieutenant and fellow sergeant’s flirting.

Now, he’s heard Ghost’s awful jokes before. He’s heard the offhand teases and ‘buy me a drink first’s, but without Price as the voice of authority, Gaz discovers that there is far, far worse to be said between the two of them—specifically by Soap.

The team’s first mission without Price, with the captain still in early recovery, Gaz gets the general sense of testing the waters. The mission itself goes off without a hitch—they couldn’t call themselves an elite task force for nothing—but the comments not meant for Gaz but still said over comms are certainly… something. Bordering on raunchy. But it’s fine, whatever, Gaz has heard far worse from soldiers who aren’t even friends, let alone whatever Ghost and Soap are.

The second mission is already worse.

Soap seems to have taken Ghost’s silence as permission to continue with his over-the-top flirting, and Gaz has already begun to worry at what point it becomes too much. At what point Soap will cross the line, and at what point Gaz will have to figure out what to wear to his friend’s funeral.

The second mission, none of the above occurs. They all make it out alive and with minimal injuries—though Gaz could argue his brain has already been scarred by what Soap seems to deem appropriate to say to his lieutenant.

It’s the same thing for their next few outings. Price is doing better but is still out of commission, and Gaz cannot wait until he’s back, it’s started to get so bad. He’s heard more than he wishes to forget. He thinks it’d do him well to have his mind erased, scrubbed clean of Ghost and Soap’s worsening banter, but alas.

But up until this point, anyway, he’s chalked it all up to the lack of Price in their ears not letting them get away with the awfully filthy talk and increasingly terrible jokes.

Gaz is fearing for his own life when it happens.

Mercifully, Price is green-lighted to go back into the field at some point during the task force’s current mission, so Gaz has been counting down the days until finally, finally someone with a voice of higher authority than Ghost’s can cut through the line and tell them to either knock it off or keep it to their own channel.

They’re almost in the clear, Gaz thinks, and just as he does is when Soap says something that no way in hell Ghost should be tolerating.

“—bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, LT? Havin’ me on my knees, cryin’ and beggin’ for mercy?”

Honestly, it isn’t the worst Soap has said these past few months. Not by far. But it’s the directness and very clear implication of what he means that sets Gaz on edge—because surely, surely even Soap couldn’t possibly outright proposition Ghost with a blowjob and not be reprimanded for it.

Yet for some reason, Ghost’s response is not keep it tactical, but rather, “Ask nicely and you might get it the other way ‘round.”

Gaz isn’t sure how to move on normally from hearing that, but he manages, somehow. The only good thing to have come from Ghost’s reciprocation is that it manages to make Soap go quiet for the remainder of the mission, unless there’s something critical to be mentioned.

It doesn’t click for Gaz right away, too focused on the mission and figuring out the most effective method of brain-bleaching, but hopping off the heli back at base and watching Soap drag Ghost off to god knows where is certainly telling of something that he’d missed all this time.

He’d bring up to Price later, he thinks. The captain ought to know if Ghost and Soap were really a thing—and if not yet, well.

They probably would be soon enough.

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 8)

ATTENTION: There is some SMUT in this chapter, because Tav gets a little touchy and Astarion just pours oil into the flames - only lightly smutty though, because I like to be a pain in your ass, hihi.

There will be more smut in future parts that I will still have to write but let it slowly burn for now - I know you want it.

Also this is the last part leading up to my main idea for this story - the plot point I actually thought about when I started writing this and thought it'd be like a few thousand words adventure.

Btw, did part 7 yesterday go through okay? I felt like it didn't really show up for some time when I posted, eh. Anyways, if you missed it, it's on my blog of course.

A bit more is already up on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

You kept on drinking and talking. Teasing each other, pouring more shots. It really did feel like one of the memorable evenings you thought about when you first told Astarion about this place. The main act had started to play downstairs: a band of elves – a rarity in itself, but they were practically celebrities as Lira explained: a male drow bard with long sleek black hair playing the lute and singing with a dark and somber voice that had men and women in the audience swooning, a female wood elf bard with a violin with green skin and equally sleek but powdery-pink hair and the voice of an angel and three more equally beautiful elven musicians. All were precariously clothed, leaving little to none to imagination. Since they had started playing the mood in the tavern had dangerously shifted from drinking and laughing to people of all genders and races and combinations dancing and kissing and stealing touches they thought nobody would see.

With half the bottle gone you could certainly start to feel the alcohol doing its work: you felt pleasantly buzzed, also giggling more and batting your eyelashes more at Astarion - which might’ve been caused by the amount of drinks you’ve had or the seductive, pleasant music… or maybe it was just your fatal attraction to him and his very much encouraging and looks and touches.

While Daegin had been complaining about the last time he had visited his family for the better part of an hour, you started to get a little handsy with Astarion. Which prompted him to grab hold of your roaming hands. “Do you mind, darling?”, he whispered to you with a smile and pulling both of your hands to put them over his heart. You blushed shamefully, immediately worrying if you’d made him uncomfortable. You quietly voiced your concern to him and apologized for your indecent behaviour while Daegin complained loudly about his second cousin's awful wife.

The vampire laughed softly and lifted your hands to his lips to plant a gentle kiss onto them. “No worries, darling, if you’d ever really do something to make me uncomfortable, I promise, I wouldn’t hesitate to call you out on it.” He pressed another kiss onto your fingers. “I love when you show how much I am yours and that you can’t keep your hands off me, my heart, but maybe just for tonight, keep your hands out of my pants while we have an audience, alright?” You nodded but still felt a little bit ashamed of yourself, so you buried your face in his shirt. You mumbled something about respecting boundaries into his chest to which he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and held you for a moment. Daegin was still on about his relatives while Lira boredly dragged her shot glass around in circles by its rim and stared into nothingness.

After a few moments Astarion leaned down to whisper into your ear. “There will be no boundaries tonight though, when I’ll have you all to myself and remind you why it is that you can’t keep your paws to yourself”, he simply stated and then went back to holding you sweetly – as if he hadn’t just given you the most enticing promise you thought someone ever gave you. Very naughty thoughts started to race through your mind, prompting you to let go of Astarion and get at least a few inches between you – a much needed safety precaution. You poured yourself another shot and downed it immediately while you could feel the same pulsing sensation between your legs you’d last felt when he had you pinned against a wall only a few hours ago. The rough fabric of your linen blouse started to rub on the hardening tips of your breasts, your throat was bone-dry although you only had just drunk something. Astarion leaned on his elbows to grab the bottle of liquor and also pour himself another one while watching your face and giving you a dirty smirk. He did look like the personified sin right in this moment. Astarion’s eyes wandered to where your hardened nipples here now clearly visible through your shirt while he drank slowly. He licked his lips afterwards without stopping to stare but you saw how he rearranged his pants with his hands – only the slightest bit awkward. And when your eyes flicked down, you noticed that not only your arousal was pretty obvious right now. “I admit you make keeping boundaries pretty hard, my love”, he whispered under his breath. You stepped closer to him once more but not touching him. “Seems that’s not the only thing I make hard”, you whispered back while returning the dirty smirk he gave you moments ago and staring into his eyes confidently. His pupils diluted slightly at your words, but he held your stare without moving, positively becoming a statue.

Then you suddenly turned away from him and to the other two at the table, crossing your arms over your chest, breaking the spell. “So, what else is new?”, you asked suddenly and with a not-so-subtle note of hysteria in your voice. You had been way too close to just completely losing yourself right then and there; all because of some dirty whispers and stolen glances.

The half-elf and the dwarf, both well drunk - much more than you - had obviously been completely oblivious to the electric tension between you and the vampire – thank the Gods. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Astarion had rolled up his sleeves and was leaning on his elbows again next to you.

“Well”, Lira drawled, now much less focused on niceties and political correctness, “have you heard that Cazador Szarr has kicked the bucket a few weeks ago? And his whole estate was looted. It’s been the talk of town for weeks.” That sobered you right up. This was the first time you heard that this had become public knowledge. It seemed Astarion and you had been well shielded in your domestic little bubble since you had parted ways with your adventurous little group and settled down in Baldur’s Gate.

You threw Astarion a concerned sideways glanced but to your surprise he seemed relaxed. Even more so, he was grinning broadly, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Daegin happily chimed in and gave you a rundown of different theories on his death: heart attack (“Nah, he was perfectly healthy, last thing I heard”, Astarion commented), poisoned by another noble family to gain his power (“Probable, but why loot his estate and why not keep his death a secret and pose as him, so much easier to take over his influence.”), tragic accident (“Unlikely, I heard he never even really left his castle.”). Astarion seemed more intrigued in adding to the gossip that you thought was clever. But hells, you would not stop him from talking shit about this fucking bastard.

“Do you want to know what I heard?”, Astarion said after Daegin had finished. He leaned towards them as if he was going to let them in on a secret. Lira, immediately intrigued, leaned over the table just as he did. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in anticipation. Even Daegin seemed immediately interested. There he went doing it again, Astarion and his damned silver tongue. You were about to join his act in whatever lie you thought he would fabricate from thin air, when he began: “I heard, he was secretly a vampire and was murdered by one of his own spawn because he’d made a deal with a devil to perform a horrific ritual that would have made him even more powerful and killed thousands of people!”

Your chin basically dropped to the floor but you were way too shocked to do anything else. Lira and Daegin mirrored your emotions perfectly albeit for different reasons. Did… did he actually just tell them the fucking truth?

The silence between the four of you kept dragging on. Astarion simply drank another shot of liquor, shrugged his shoulders and casually said: “It’s just what I heard.” You could simply blink at his nonchalance. Then Daegin broke the silence with deafening laughter, roaring and throwing his head back, slapping his thighs with his hands multiple times. Lira joined in but her laugh turned into a silly cackling chuckle that made her shoulders quake like she was losing her mind. You couldn’t join in, you were too starstruck by Astarion’s boldness. But neither was Astarion. He just threw you a defeated look that seemed to say ‘see? No one’s ever going to believe it’.

After several minutes of choking on their laughter they seemed to calm down. Lira had to wipe away tears from her eyes several times, the dwarf had started coughing horribly halfway through. When he had regained a bit of composure, he jumped off his stool, walked around the table and offered Astarion his hand – which the vampire took with a confused look. “I gotta hand it to you, elf, no one ever made me laugh that hard. Not even my own brother”, he said and shook Astarion’s hand, congratulating him.

“Tav, you really need to bring him when we go out drinking from now on”, the short man said and laughed again. This time you and Astarion joined in.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Several Shots Later (Pro!Sero x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader) 

Pairing: Pro!Sero Hanta x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers) 

Synopsis: In which you go on a vacation in an effort to relax and feel more confident, but find yourself falling for the sexy stranger who sends you a drink across the room and also happens to give you some firsthand dance lessons and a night you’ll never forget. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Aged Up!Sero (he’s in his late 20s); Chubby!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Marijuana/Alcohol Use; Sero Speaking Spanish; Petnames: (Baby, Mama, Mami); Skinny Dipping; Strangers to Lovers; Drunk Sex; Exhibitionism; Public Oral; Shotgunning; Dirty Talk; Daddy/Papi Kink; Rope Play; Spanking; Spitting; Facefucking; UNPROTECTED PIV Sex; Mild Choking; Mild Degradation; Cum on Body; Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: HAPPY B-DAY WEEK TO MY FAVORITE LATIN KING SERO!! I typed this from his bed btw. Posting it early cuz this weekend, I'm gonna be soooo busy. Anyway, I had this idea after listening to "She's Hot" (the song above) & thinking about dancing to it with Sero cuz y'all know damn well he can MOVE. Enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋

P.S. If my Spanish is trash or inaccurate, please PLEASE let me know! I used Google Translate lol

Read on AO3 here!

*********

He’s been staring at you all night, ever since you sat at the bar twenty minutes ago. If he continues to do so, you’re sure to soak the stool you’re sitting on.

You’ve never been stared at in such a way before––so brazenly and intimately. Though the lust is hidden beneath the surface of his charcoal eyes, you can tell that this isn’t all that is there. You’re used to being lusted after, but this feels different. More…romantic.

And all just from one look! You know you’re probably looking too deep into it though. After all, you haven’t even spoken to the man. But fuck, do you want to, ever since you caught a glimpse of him when you stepped into the resort’s nightclub twenty minutes before with your two friends and vacay buddies. 

The man is the definition of “fine”.

Though he was sitting down when you first saw him, you’d place him at a good height over yours. He is all lean muscle, but not overly so, all of which you can see straining against his black polo shirt that he leaves unbuttoned to expose the sliver of chest and a gold chain underneath. His arms, which you’d love to feel wrapped around you, are roped in tattoos, his fingers adorned in rings and his wrist encased in a Rolex watch. The man must got money.

He sits back in his seat now, his shot of rum in his lap and his thighs open wide as if not aware that every woman (or man) could be staring at his crotch in those tight-ass jeans. 

You’d never thought you’d ever see a man make a mullet look good either. He rocks it perfectly, several strands of black hair hanging in his alluring eyes that continue to stare you down, making you feel hot all over. His eyes sparkle just as his lip ring and silver hoops along his ears do, his long lashes making you think of a doll’s. He’s so, so beautiful. 

You don’t know what he does, but judging by the watch and the Nike Air Forces on his feet, you’d guess he could be a singer. Maybe a business owner or CEO of some company? Maybe even a model? Regardless, he could have any woman in here just with one look and a smile. Why is he so entranced with you? What is it with you that he wants? 

“Girl, you’ve been staring right back at him,” Mina chuckles from beside you. “If don’t hop on that man, I will ‘cause he’s fine.”

You side-eye her from your spot between her and Uraraka, watching her sip on her second cocktail of the night in her little pink mini-dress. “Why don’t you just go over and talk to him like a normal person?” she snickers. 

You turn away from her and the beautiful stranger, staring down at your half-drunk Mojito. “You know I don’t make the first move,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how. Plus, I didn’t come here for a man. I came here to relax and find some confidence in myself.” 

“That’s what a hot guy like him is for!” Mina argues, nodding at the stranger. Though you’re sure he has looked away from you by now, your body still burns as if he is still watching you, waiting for you. “No,” you protest. “That’s what the beach, the spa, and endless drinks are for. I’m not here for sex after the last time a hookup went wrong–which was only a month ago.” 

You huff, stirring your drink around before sipping on it to calm your nerves and push those memories away. You came here to get away from all of that, after all. A month ago was the last straw when it came to dating and hooking up, especially with men online. You had been on Match for months but always seemed to run into men who either had a fetish for plus-sized women, and only that, or ghosted you as soon as they saw you outside of your pretty profile picture. 

The last hookup you had seemed to break your spirit completely. You and the guy had been talking for a couple of weeks before he asked you out for dinner. Though you were excited, you felt that nabbing feeling in your gut that something would go wrong the moment he saw you in your dress, all of your rolls and jiggly parts on display.

But surprisingly, when you met with him at the restaurant, his smile didn’t even falter. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as if nothing was wrong. You even started to believe that this would be fine...until it wasn’t.

Until you invited him back to your apartment after one too many glasses of wine and got him out of his clothes. Until he stripped you, spread your legs wide eagle, and attempted to go down on you but didn’t. “I can’t do this,” he had sighed, already moving to grab his shit to hastily put back on. “Look, you’re pretty and all, and I thought I could handle you, but I can’t. You’re just too…big.” 

To say you were hurt was an understatement. You said nothing to him as he profusely apologized; said it wasn’t your fault but just his preference; that he knew you’d find someone that would be attracted to you. If only he knew that this hasn’t been the case in years. If only he knew that most men only saw you as an object of their fetish and kinks; not their affection. 

You weren’t asking for the fucking moon here. Just some love and affection. Just some intimacy. Just some good ol’ big dick. But you always seemed to lack in those departments because of your shape and size. There are times you wished you looked like your friends–so small and socially acceptable with their flat stomachs and breasts that didn’t sag. They could wear tight-skin dresses and crop tops without getting ridiculed or laughed at. You couldn’t. 

This is why you took the offer for this trip to the beach resort on the coast of [Insert Country Name Here]. It was a short five-day trip that Mina and Uraraka had been planning to get away from your home in the US for a while and escape the sweltering heat.

When they offered you a spot and a ticket, you took that shit. You knew that this was your chance to finally gain the confidence you were missing and get away from the problems and men your city brought for a while. So far, it’s been working. Ever since you flew in this morning, you’ve been wearing all the bikinis and sundresses you want without getting side-eyed or gawked at. It feels damn good! But getting eyed down by that stranger feels even better. 

“He was just a porn-addicted asshole,” Uraraka huffs, crossing her toned legs over each other in her pretty, flowery sundress. “He wasn’t worth your time. As much as I understand your reluctance, Y/N, you’re not behind a screen this time. You’re sitting here, looking sexy as fuck in your mini skirt, and he’s eyeing you down like he wants all of you.” 

“She is right, babes,” Mina agrees. “The way that guy is staring at you is making me kinda jealous.” She smiles at the way you bashfully advert your eyes to stare down at your outfit. They forced you to put on the shimmery mini skirt that hugs your ass and the low-cut top that exposes your cleavage for tonight’s activities. 

“What’s the point of being on vacation if you don’t indulge in hookups with hot people?” she giggles, sipping suggestively on her straw. You raise your brows at her, more than happy to correct her.  “Vacations may be about that for you two, but I’m more about sleeping till the afternoon, lounging by the beach, and drinking my bottomless mimosas.” 

Though the sexy stranger makes you think differently, you know that you’re never going to find the courage to get up and talk to him, no matter how much you drank or how sexy your friends said you looked. You wanted to get away from hookup culture and just find confidence on your own without looking for it in sex with a nice-looking guy. You just want to relax! But Mina and Uraraka aren't taking no for an answer.

Mina downs the rest of her drink before staring at you pointedly. “And that’s about to change tonight.” You gawk at her, laughing in disbelief at her stubbornness. “It’s only the first day!” you laugh. 

“Exactly!” she agrees. “And we’ve got about five days left here at this resort. You know time flies extra fast while on vacation, girl.” She winks at you, encouraging you to go through with catching a body for the night. But you hum disapprovingly to yourself, stirring your straw around in your glass. “I don’t know, girls,” you sigh. “It just doesn’t seem right to use a guy just to boost my confidence and have a good time.” 

Mina dramatically scoffs, rolling her golden eyes. “Please! You’ve got men in here who would gladly give their left lung to do all of that for you and more. Probably even that hottie with the mullet.” Though her words are encouraging, you still feel that roil of fear and uncertainty in your gut. What if he refuses you? What if he says yes but then changes his mind once he gets a look at you under your clothes? 

Uraraka’s soft hand on your knee pulls you out of your head. “How can you know if you don’t at least try, Y/N?” she soothingly asks. “You deserve to have a good time, including getting some great sex if that’s what you want. And from the way you’ve been staring back at that stranger, we can tell it’s exactly what you want. So go on and get him!” 

Mina places a hand on your shoulder, the smell of her fruity perfume overtaking your senses. “What happens on vacation stays on vacation,” she giggles. 

And you realize that they’re absolutely right. You can never know what will happen if you don’t at least try. Plus, even if it goes wrong, there are plenty of other men at this resort you can try to snag, even if for the night or the remainder of this trip. You came here to not only relax, but to find confidence and let loose. Maybe you can do all of that in one night with a hot stranger with no strings attached. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you say, suddenly feeling a boost of confidence in your body. “Lemme just finish this first.” You reach for your Mojito and down it, already feeling the effects of the alcohol in your body. You feel warm and tingly; sexy and powerful like you could take over the whole world. You’ve got this. You’re a sexy ass bitch. 

Uraraka cheers you on when you slide out of your stool, pulling down your skirt over your stomach and thick, jiggly thighs as you do. “Go get him, girly!” Mina shouts encouragingly. “Let us know if you need us to push him into the pool.” 

You giggle, feeling nervous yet excited. You can’t believe you’re really coming out of your comfort zone like this. But as you turn in the direction of the sexy stranger, you find his seat open and him gone. “Oh,” you breathe, disappointment blooming within you. “He’s gone.” Mina and Uraraka look around in disbelief. “Where’d he go?”

Uraraka huffs, her bob as she turns her head from side to side searching for the mystery man. “He was just right there!” Mina puts a comforting hand on your arm. “Well, don’t fret, babes. There are plenty of other fine-ass men in here who would gladly give you their undivided attention.” She begins to look around, squinting into the flashing lights on the dance floor despite your disinterest. “Let’s see…what about–“ 

“Excuse me,” someone says from behind you. You turn, finding the bartender holding another delicious-looking Mojito. “This is for you, miss. It was already paid for.” You and the girls stare at the drink in shock and suspicion. “Already paid for?” you parrot, baffled. “By who?” 

“Well, it was supposed to be by your secret admirer, but I think I fucked that up comin’ over here.” A light chuckle leaves the lips of a man you already know is fine judging by his voice–it’s raspy and laced with a slight accent you can’t quite decipher; very pleasant to the ear. A real panty dropper. 

When you and your friends turn, you swear to nearly drop dead right there in the club. There, standing behind you with a smile playing on his pierced, plump lips, is the hot stranger from across the room. And he’s even sexier up close! From this angle, you can see the ink on his chest peeking from out of his collar and how clean his nails are. Not to mention his scent––so sweet yet musky. It’s intoxicating. You and the girls stand there like idiots, silently drinking in the fine-ass stranger. “Oh, shit, he’s even finer up close,” Mina whispers to Uraraka, earning a shush in response. 

The man smiles, two dimples popping on his cheeks. You love dimples. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he sheepishly says, and you catch a glint of something shiny in his mouth. A tongue piercing. ‘Oh, fuck me,’ you think. This man is trouble.

“I’m sorry if I am, but I couldn’t help myself. You just look too good tonight.” His charcoal eyes are planted firmly on you though you see them falter to trail down your form. You have to hold onto the stool behind you to avoid falling out. Your knees suddenly feel too weak to hold you up. “I thought the drink would’ve been a good icebreaker, but maybe that was kinda douchey,” he wonder aloud, rubbing the back of his neck. His bicep bulges as he does so, making you picture yourself running your fingers over it. 

“U-Uh…” You desperately try to find the words to speak, not wanting to come off as a weirdo. But your mind is completely blank, all except for some naughty images of this man’s hands on you and his cock buried deep inside of you as he bends you over the bar. “No,” you reply, finding the words to finally speak. “It was sweet of you. Thank you…for the compliment too, not just the drink.” You cringe at yourself, realizing you’re babbling.

The stranger laughs lightly, the sound like sex to you. “I’m Sero,” he says in his sexy, raspy voice. “Sero Hanta.” He sticks his hand out for yours and you take it. As soon as your hands make contact, you feel an electric current soar through you as if you’re being shocked from the inside. His hand is big and calloused as if he’s been using them for years. You’re not sure if he feels the same zing that courses through you, but his eyes do trail to your mouth. 

“I’m Y/N,” you timidly reply as your hands drop. “L/N. These are my friends; we’re on vacation.” You turn to your friends that you find leaving their posts, guilty smiles on their faces. “And we were just leaving,” Mina replies. “We’re just gonna go on the dance floor. Text us if you need anything!” 

“Very nice to meet you!” Uraraka shouts with a wave before she and Mina hurry to the dance floor. 

“Wait!” You hiss, but they’re already moving out of earshot. You watch them skid off to the dance floor with the sharpest glare you've ever given a person. If looks could kill, they would be dead. Now it’s just you and Sero the Sexy Stranger.

Though you’re not exactly alone, you may as well be the only two people standing in the room with how awkward and tense the air feels. Sero isn’t immune to it either. He stands rather rigidly, his arms behind his back and his eyes looking anywhere but at you in fear of making you feel uncomfortable. Knowing you can’t stand here all night, you clear your throat and pat the stool next to you. “Uh…did you wanna sit?” Sero shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “If you’re cool with it.” 

You nod and slide into your own seat while he hops up next to you. “So you said you ladies are here on vacation?” he asks, giving you a friendly, warm smile that eases your nerves. You nod, lacing your fingers together to give them something to do. “Yeah, for five more days. We just flew in this morning all the way from the US.” 

Sero’s charcoal eyes widen in shock. “The United States?” he gasps, making you giggle. “Shit, that’s a long way. Where are you from?”

You tell him, including the state. You may as well also tell him the capital and the population of your city with how much you’re babbling, but it’s hard to keep calm in the presence of such a sexy, sweet-smelling man. Sero is full of questions, his curiosity adorable. “What’s it like there? Is the food good? I heard they’ve got the best tour sights too!” 

You tell him everything, from the food to the museums to the entertainment there for tourists along with the weather, your neighborhood, and how you’ve been living there ever since you were young. “I met my friends back during college,” you explain as you sip on the Mojito that Sero bought you. “We decided to take this trip to get out of the city for a while.”  Sero nods, his attention firmly on you and only you. It makes you blush and you thank God that He made you a Black woman.

“Well, you ladies picked the best place for a vacay. I’ve been coming here for years ‘cause I’ve got family down here.” He waves a hand, flagging down the bartender. “Are you from here?” you curiously ask. 

He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Nah; I was born in Musutafu, a city in Japan. My mother is Latina but my father is Japanese.” Your interest in him piques here as you have a big soft spot for mixed men. “So are you bilingual?” you giggle. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve been trying to learn Japanese forever ever since I started watching anime.” 

Sero turns to face you, one muscled arm slung across the bar. “You’re an anime fan, huh?” he asks, interest and the flashing strobe lights in his black eyes which you now realize aren't charcoal at all––they’re a very dark brown, almost like dark chocolate. “What’s your favorite? And if you say Naruto, I’m leaving.” 

“What’s wrong with Naruto?” you laugh, gaping at him. 

“Everyone says Naruto!” he complains, rolling his eyes dramatically. “If not DBZ! Those are the two anime shows that reached the mainstream and everyone knows about.” You decide to leave your obsession with Naruto in middle school on the back burner for now.

“Well, I’ll give you my top five,” you giggle. You give him each one, most of them being very underrated and less popular than other anime. Sero looks impressed when you finish. “Daaamn, girl!” he praises. “You’ve got taste! I didn’t think anyone knew about your fifth pick. It’s more of an underrated one.” You nod, agreeing. “Yeah, but I’m into mystery. The twists and turns make each episode so fun to watch.” 

He nods in agreement, a strange smile on his face. Though it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, it also feels…weird. You’re not used to being smiled at in such a way, like what you’re saying is so interesting and intriguing. You turn away to sip your drink, hoping more alcohol will make you feel less weird and take you out of your head. 

The bartender suddenly returns to your side with a tray of multi-colored shot glasses and tiny bowls of salt, lemon, and lime on the side. “Here you are, Mr. Hanta,” he says. "On the house.” Sero gives him a look as he lowers the tray in front of him. “I keep tellin’ you to just call me Sero,” he sighs, pulling out a twenty to tip the bartender. “I ain’t my dad.” 

When the bartender scurries off with the bill, Sero fills you in on why he got the order of rounds: “They give me free shit every time I come in here but I still tip ‘em well. Probably because I know the owner. He’s a good friend of my dad’s.” He takes one of the shot glasses and downs the contents inside with ease, not even sucking on a lemon or lime slice as a chaser. You don’t realize that you’re staring at him until he raises a questionable brow at you. “Want one?” he asks. Flushing with embarrassment, you shake your head. “You sure? They’re rum shots. Some are just plain, some are apple, and some are coconut.” 

Your eyes flick from him to the shots, slowly becoming seduced by the different flavors and the idea of letting even looser. “Just one,” you say, giving in to defeat.

Sero passes you a shot before picking up another one of his own, giving you a white-toothed smile. “To an amazing vacation,” he says, raising his shot. You do the same and clink your glass with his before downing your rum at the same time he does. Though you taste the hint of apple, the rum is incredibly strong and nearly burns your tonsils. You gag as he goes down, making Sero laugh behind his hand. “Don’t laugh!” you pout. “This shit is stronger than the stuff you find in the US.” 

Sero snickers as you take a lemon slice and vigorously suck on it, chasing away the strong taste of the rum. “Yeah, I bet,” he chuckles, nodding at the shots. “This is straight rum, mama. Definitely not to be played with. Lemme order you some water.”

He leans over the bar, raising his muscular arm, and you don’t know if it’s you or the alcohol starting to speak, but his arm looks very appealing to you right now. You picture wrapped around your waist or your tummy, maybe on your side while his cock is plunging in and out of the wet, gummy walls of your pussy over and over again, his sweet, raspy voice whispering in your ear. 

You blink, alarmed. ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’ you think. The alcohol is definitely talking now. You have to try to act as normal as possible and not like you’re a horny mess when the bartender returns with a glass of cool water.

But you don't touch the water. Instead, you go for another shot, determination flooding within you that is only conjured by the alcohol. “You wanna try again?” Sero snickers. “Be my guest. It always goes down better the second time around. Don’t drink it too fast, now.” He keeps his intense eyes on you as you down your next shot. He’s right: it does go down a lot easier. While you feel the burn as he slides down your throat, it settles into your tummy nicely, making you feel warm and tingly. 

Sero downs his third shot of the night, as do you. Soon, the room is starting to get hotter and seems a little fuzzier than before. The music is sharper, Sero seems a lot sexier, and you’re having trouble focusing. You know that you are only another shot away from drunk, so you decide to take a couple of sips of your water. Unfortunately, your being tipsy means that you have zero filter. “Uh…so what do you do?” you randomly ask Sero. “Like, for work?” 

Sero stares at you, perplexed, his pink, pierced lips wrapped around a straw to his glass of water. You flush with embarrassment and go to apologize for being too personal, but his smile eases your nerves. “Relax,” he chuckles. “It ain’t like you asked me what my social security is.” You return the smile, becoming accustomed to his humor and laid-back attitude. “I’m a house renovator, so I fix up houses for people to rent, buy, or put on the market. I’ve got my own business back in Japan. I’m also a dance instructor on the side.” 

Your ears perk at his hustle. So he’s got money and he can dance? “So you’re extremely talented, basically.” It could be the trick of the lights, but you think you see Sero’s cheeks grow pink. “I try. What about you?” You tell him your job along with what you do all day while working at it five days a week. His handsome face scrunches in pain. “That’s a great job, but it sounds time-consuming. You ever get bored or have time for yourself?” 

You discard your water and sip on the rest of your Mojito, nearly forgetting it was there. “Time for myself is what the weekends are for,” you joke. “But in all seriousness, some of the time I get tired of it. That’s why my friends and I booked this trip as a way to relax and boost my confidence.” 

Your eyes widen when you realize what you just said. 'Fuck!’ you think, panicking. Goddamn, the alcohol! Why does it have to make your tongue so loose and you so dumb?

Sero’s eyes flash with interest. “Boost your confidence?” he asks, quirking a brow at you that makes him look increasingly hotter. “How so?” He leans in as if to kiss you, a secretive smile curling onto his lips. You avert your eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the fear in them. You hope he doesn’t push this. You couldn’t bear the thought of telling a stranger all about your problems with your body and dating. 

“I’m kidding,” he finally says, probably noticing your change in demeanor. “You don’t have to tell me, but you could’ve fooled me ‘cause the outfit is certainly doin’ its job.” His eyes trail across your form in your outfit, making your body feel like it just got stuck in an oven. “Does that confidence-boosting also include dancing like your friends are?” he asks, nodding at the dance floor. There, you see Mina and Uraraka on the floor, twirling their hips and sipping on their drinks, carefree and beautiful. 

You don’t think you could be that carefree with so many eyes on you. It’s different in the comfort of your own home, but here? It’s just too harrowing of an idea. “I-I don’t dance,” you timidly admit to Sero. “Not ‘cause I can’t, but I just…don’t.” 

Sero scowls confusedly at you, his brows furrowing. “Why?” he asks, sounding absolutely baffled. “When the music is this good, it’s just too good to not move! You know how to salsa? Or bachata?” You stare at him, gobsmacked. This man can really move like that? “You teach all of that?” you ask, suddenly even hotter knowing this. You can only imagine how his hips can move in bed. 

Sero smirks proudly. “Damn right,” he chuckles. “And I’m gonna teach you. You’ve got the best in the business, baby.” He takes his hand in yours and helps you down off of your stool. But before he can lead to you the dance floor, you pull him back. “Wait!” you protest. He peers over his shoulder at you and you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I-I don’t know if I’ve got dancing shoes.” 

The sexy stranger turns around to face you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Really?” he asks. “That’s the best you’ve got?” You stare down at your shoes, even more apprehensive. It’s bad enough that you’re afraid of how you’ll look, but you’ve never had a man ask you to dance with him on the floor before. You’ve never had a man pursue you in such a way. You’re not sure how to handle it or what you’re even doing. 

You’re aware of Sero getting closer to you until all you see is his chest in your face. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his cologne fogging your senses and self-control. “If you’re worried about what you look like, don’t. You’ve got people in here who dance worse and if you step on my toes, I’ll just act like it didn’t happen.”

At this, you smile though hesitantly. “There’s that smile,” he coos, interlacing his fingers with yours. “C’mon, before the song ends.” 

The song playing now is one you recognize from TikTok from the Spanish guitars and Latin beat pumping through the speakers that you’d roll your hips into a mirror to. The strobe lights have now brightened to a seductive red that makes the dance floor look like it’s on fire. Sero leads you to a space on the dance floor between the grinding club-goers and stands in front of you, his height blocking the others dancing behind him. 

You rigidly stand with his hand in yours a good distance away from him. You can already feel yourself wanting to run. The confidence that the alcohol provided you is starting to fade. All you want to do now is go back to your hotel room and go to sleep. ‘No,’ you think stubbornly. ‘You’re not doing that. You came here to find confidence and this man is trying to help you with that.’ 

Sero smirks jokingly at you. Unaware to you, he thinks your shyness is the cutest thing in the world. He’d fuck you right here in front of the whole club if he could. “You’ve gotta stand a little closer than that,” he chuckles. With some hesitation, you move an inch closer to him, barely toe to toe with him.

“Closer,” he teasingly repeats. Maybe it's the guitars in the song or the intensity of his gaze on you, but you find yourself moving closer to him like a moth being beckoned by a flame. Suddenly, you’re close enough to kiss him, your nose nearly brushing his chest.

“Perfecto,” he whispers, and it has your heart racing like it’s trying to win a track race. “Now you put one hand on my shoulder.” Keeping one of your hands interlocked with his, you raise your free hand and place it on his broad shoulder. 

Then his hands are on your hips, secure and…nice. This feels nice. “Is it okay if I hold you like this?” he asks, his lips at your ear. You can barely speak––your throat is dry and your mind has gone completely blank. “Give me your words, mami,” he demands though not aggressively. The pet name, along with his accent curling around the almost-forbidden word, has you blushing profusely and thanking the Lord that He made you a Black woman. 

Sero tenses as soon as the word flies, pulling away to apologize face to face. “Sorry,” he says embarrassingly, a blush coating his cheeks. “No,” you protest, shaking your head. “I-I like it. And it’s fine…you holding me like this, that is.” A beaming smile crosses his lips; one that makes you smile too and seems to ease the awkwardness of the situation.

“Now just follow me,” he instructs you. “When my foot goes back, yours goes forward, like this.” He puts one foot back and you timidly bring yours forward. “Now vice versa,” he says before bringing his foot back to the front. You pick up on things quickly and press your foot back. “Good!” he praises you. “Now let’s try it with the music. It goes 1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…just like the beat. Listen to the beat.” 

You do as he says and listen to the music, trying to match your foot movement with the rhythm. Sero is a natural at this, as he should be since it’s his side hustle. He moves like he is the damn music, his body turning into water. His moves are loose and languid but not out-of-beat or uncontrolled. His back is straight, his shoulders are squared, and his hips? They roll like fucking waves.

You find yourself wanting to touch them; roll your tongue against them and the washboard abs you know are just up under his shirt. He never lets you go as you attempt to copy his moves and his confidence. And yes, you step on his feet a few times, but he never loses that patient, kind smile. Soon, you start to feel more comfortable and your moves grow looser than before. 

Sero feels your body relax and his eyes gleam with excitement. “There we go!” he laughs. “And you said you were worried about havin’ the wrong shoes. You’re a natural at this.” He twirls you twice, making you giddy and dizzy with joy. You are hot and sweaty, and your makeup has probably seen better days, but you don’t care. You feel good, all because of the man you're dancing with tonight. 

Suddenly, a newfound confidence blooms inside of you that could either be from the alcohol or from the closeness of this fine-ass man. One that has your hand moving from his shoulder to his chest, just briefly caressing it. “I guess it helps to have a good teacher,” you say in a tone that you’ve never heard come out of your mouth before. It is low and sensual. 

Sero notices it immediately. His kind smile turns into one that is more secretive like he is hiding something you don’t know about. He twirls you once more, causing your braids to fly around you and a laugh to burst from your mouth. Then he’s yanking you to him, emitting a surprised gasp from your lips when you find yourself chest-to-chest with him. One of his big hands moves to caress your lower back while the other still holds yours. He stares deep into your eyes as he begins to move his hips against yours, rolling and grinding his body into your own.

Suddenly, like a cliche romance trope, everyone disappears and all that is left are you and him. You only see him. You only know him. From somewhere on the floor, Mina and Uraraka shriek, hyping you up. “Yaaaasss, Y/N!” Mina screeches, much louder than Uraraka and the music. “Get it, girl!” 

Before you even realize it, you’re grinding right back onto him, rolling your hips into his. He twirls you around once more, but doesn’t allow you to face him again. Instead, he presses his front against your back and grinds against you from there. His hands grip your hips, coaxing you to wind your ass back into him. You get lost in the music and in him, feeling safe in his arms despite only knowing him for an hour or so.

“You’ve got it,” he laughs into your ear, making your inner thighs tingle. “You were so scared to do this, and now look at you. I bet every man in here is jealous that I get to be the one to dance with such a pretty thing like you.” 

Those words are what do it for you, and before you even realize it, you're looping your arms around his neck to bring him closer and turning your face to kiss him. It is a quick kiss, but it’s enough to have your heart hammering even faster and your stomach twirling. When you pull away, Sero's eyes are wide, a shocked expression on his face.

You immediately jump away and cover your mouth, horrified. “I’m so sorry!” you immediately apologize. “I-I don’t know why I…” You trail off, suddenly feeling disgusting and awful. Your confidence is gone and the effects of the alcohol are waning. "I should go,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. 

But as you turn to storm off the dance floor, Sero stops you by grabbing your wrist. “No,” he says, a silent plea in his eyes. “Don’t go.” 

Before you can even process what’s happening, one of his arms is looping around your waist while his hand gently cups your cheek. His lips are then on yours, planting one of the softest, hottest kisses you’ve ever had on you. His lips are smooth and soft, his piercings tickling your bottom lip. Your lips dance against his until you give a soft moan of longing as your arms move to wrap around him, hugging him close. Your parted lips allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of rum and mint there as his tongue gently swirls with yours. You hold each other, kissing among the sea of people. Once again, you feel as if there is no one but you, him, and the throbbing of the music above. 

Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted when the club-goers surrounding you begin to annoyingly scream and whoop over you and Sero. “Oh, shit, they 'bout to fuck on the floor!” someone obnoxiously screams over the music.

Sero pulls away from you, eyeing the faceless voice. “Let me join!” another shouts. 

“Fuck off!” Mina yells from somewhere behind you. “Leave them alone!” You’ve never been so thankful for your friends than at this moment.

Sero smirks down at you, arms still around your waist. “We’ve got ourselves an audience,” he whispers. “Not that I mind some eyes, but I’m more interested in getting you somewhere more…private.” 

His accent makes the word sound like sex to you. Even if that isn’t on the table, you’ll still go anywhere with him. “Where’d you have in mind?” you breathlessly ask.

He trails his fingers from your waist up your arms to lace through your fingers. “Well, if you want the bedroom now, I’m down for that,” he says, making your pussy quiver excitedly beneath your skirt, “but there’s also a cabana on the beach that’s screaming my name right now if you wanted a good view and some quiet.” 

‘Yes!’ your body screams. ‘Do it, bitch!’ But even you know that you can’t give it up to him that fast. All good things come to those who wait, after all. “I’d love that,” you shyly answer. “Can we finish the shots first though?”

You nod at the bar to which Sero chuckles, raising a brow at you. “If you’re dying to get beat by me at my own game, then sure.” 

********* 

The sea is by far the most especially thing you’ve ever seen. It looks even better while drunk. 

After downing two more shots and guzzling down water (and taking a trip to the bathroom beforehand), Sero swoops you away to the seashore right outside the resort where the ocean stretches out for your eyes to behold under the big, white moon that looks so much bigger in the sky tonight. It hovers over the water, making the waves crystalize like diamonds below, just as the stars in the ink-black sky do.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, in awe at the beauty laid before you. “This is beautiful! Look at the moon and the stars!” 

You stand at the top of the sandy shore, pointing at the sky with your heels in your hands. The sea breeze wafts your hair and cools the sweat on your body from the club. You feel good away from the people and activity now, the serenity that the beach provides is too nice to put off. 

Sero is settled down beside you in one of the many cabanas lined up on the beach that are currently empty. He sits on the bed there with his shoes off and an almost-dazed look on his face as he stares at the ocean. “Look at the stars,” he softly sings. “Look how they shine for you…” His cheeks turn red as he stares up at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m a little drunk.” 

“Me too,” you giggle. “I need to sit down.” You put a hand to your head, feeling light and slightly dizzy from the alcohol. Sero pats the empty seat next to him, smiling up at you. “Feel free, mama. This cabana is open for two.” You flush with heat despite the coolness of the salty, sea breeze as you sit beside him, feeling flustered at being so close to him. Now you don’t have the shots or the music as buffers. There is nothing but the sea and the empty beach. 

However, the silence isn’t awkward––it’s rather peaceful and serene. You dig your toes into the sand while Sero hums to himself, digging into his pocket. He then pulls out a ziplock bag of a few pre-rolled blunts and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke?” he asks, pausing to look at you for an answer. You shake your head, giving him the green light to do his thing. You watch as he works, entranced by his veiny hands as he takes out a blunt and ignites the lighter to lit the tip of it. 

You wish his hands were working you instead. 

Still entranced by him, you watch as he wraps his lips around the blunt and takes a short tester puff before putting the lighter away. He takes a deep inhale before exhaling all of the smoke out of his mouth, a peaceful look on his face. “I love doing this on the beach,” he contently sighs. “Nothing like a view of the stars and saltwater breeze while you puff on a blunt.” He gazes at you out of the corner of his eye. “And sitting with a pretty woman.” 

“Whatever,” you tsk, gently smacking his thigh to hide the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’re just sayin’ that to make me feel good.” He takes another hit of his blunt, though short. “Well, yeah,” he admits, "but also ‘cause it’s true. You are pretty. Did you see the way the security guard was checkin’ you out when we left?” 

You retrace your mental steps to try to remember, but come up short. “Uh…no,” you respond, not sure if you believe him. He laughs at this, smoke billowing from his mouth. “Exactly, ‘cause you were oblivious to it, but not me. You had eyes on you like bees on honey.” He then holds the blunt between his thumb and forefinger out to you. “Want a hit? You smoke?” You look down at the blunt, slightly intimidated. Then, for some reason, the thrill of trying something new floods you. “Not really,” you admit. "But there’s a first time for everything.” 

You take the blunt between your thumb and forefinger before trying to imitate Sero’s actions. You wrap your lips around the end of the blunt and inhale only to nearly hack up a lung when the smoke invades your lungs. Sero laughs at you while patting you on the back, helping you out. “Take it easy, mama,” he chuckles. “Second time’s the charm as I say. Do it slower.” 

You do as he says and inhale the smoke much slower than before. It goes down easier the second time and you’re even able to hold it in your lungs for longer before exhaling. “Theeeere we go,” Sero praises with a laugh. “I love a girl who doesn’t quit.” 

He lets you puff on the blunt for a few minutes longer, gazing out at the starry sky and sea. He then glances at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Please tell me if this is too personal, but I’m curious about you coming here to boost your confidence. I’d think a woman as beautiful as you are would have plenty of confidence in herself.” 

You can already feel the weed beginning to work its magic. You feel relaxed and kind of sleepy, but not enough to pass out. All of the insecurities and uncertainty you felt before have washed away. You pass Sero the blunt and sit back on your hands, exposing your jiggly tummy a little more. “Well, the reason I’m here is after a hookup gone wrong where this dude told me I was too fat and left in the middle of sex with me. I was gutted by it, so when my girls told me about their trip, I took that chance and came here.” 

You inhale the sea breeze and exhale solemnly, catching Sero’s attention…not that you didn’t have it already. “Finding love when you look like me,” you confess, running a hand over your body. “Like the dating pool isn’t built for girls like me. I’ve tried dating so many times, online manly, but as soon as a guy gets a view of me from the waist down, they want nothing to do with me. If I’m not seen as some extra pushin’ for the cushion, I’m not seen at all.” 

You’re aware that you’re oversharing, but the alcohol, weed, and Sero’s warm personality have all made it where you’re like an open book now. “Not that I mind being perceived sexually,” you reiterate, “but I feel like that’s all guys see when they look at me. I’m a fetish; not a woman who is worthy of affection as well as desire. I deserve better, y’know? I’ve got a good job, a car, an apartment, a pretty face…like everything I have should be worthy to get me a good partner, right? But it’s not. All because of…of…this.” 

You grip the jiggly fat of your stomach, huffing frustratedly to yourself. “I don’t hate being in my body, but society does.” Instantly, like a slap in the face, you realize you’ve fucked up. “Sorry!” you immediately gasp. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I said way too much.” 

Sero is staring at you like he just realized you’re a person and you feel even worse. “Look, I don’t mean to pile this all on you, but you’re so easy to talk to and this weed is gettin’ to me and–“ You abruptly stop when Sero suddenly stands. He takes another puff on his blunt before dropping it into the sand and stubbing it out with his foot. 

He then proceeds to kick off his shoes and socks, strip himself of his shirt to reveal his beautiful body, and reach for his belt to loosen his pants. When his pants fall, you can’t help but admire how good he looks in his briefs. You stare at him, confused, hot, and bothered by the gorgeous view. “What are you doing?” you softly ask. 

“Let’s take a dip,” he says huskily. You stare at him, dumbfounded. Is he serious, drunk, or just high as a kite? “But…I don’t have a bathing suit.” Sero raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Who said anything about that?” Now you know that this man is gone. There’s no way he is seriously considering skinny-dipping…and there’s no way that you’re actually thinking about it! He must see you fighting with yourself because he runs a comforting, soft hand down your arm, his touch making you shiver. “I’d like to see you,” he murmurs, “if that’s okay.” 

You search his face to see if he’s joking or daring you only to laugh at you when you do so, but you find no indication that he’s playing with you. There is a molten tenderness in his gaze that has you shivering in pleasure and anticipation, wondering what else he has in store for you.

So you strip. You start with your top and then your skirt, biting your lip at his sharp intake of breath at the sight of your underwear. Then you’re stripping off your bra, letting your full breasts fall from the cups and against your stomach. Sero’s eyes widen at the sight of you as if you are a piece of art he is admiring in a museum. “Hermosa (beautiful),” he whispers, completely in awe at your body.

You’ve taken enough Spanish in school to know what this word means and it lights your body on fire. He then offers his hand which you take, giggling when he pulls you along to the ocean. “Come on,” he laughs. “Vamos, before the water gets too cold!” 

You want to ask him what the fuck he means because the water is like you stepped into the damn Arctic Ocean when your semi-naked body finally makes contact with it. You gasp as the water shocks your body out of its tired state from the alcohol and weed. Sero keeps his hand in yours despite the crashing waves that roll against your bodies the further you wad into the ocean. Finally, you two settle and just let the water caress you. You sigh in contentment as you tip your head up towards the sky, admiring the stars twinkling above. 

“Nice, right?” Sero chuckles. You lazily nod, wanting to stay here forever––among the water, stars, and him. You don’t realize how close he’s gotten to you until you’re suddenly staring at his upper torso and the water beads that drip down his abs. “Can I hold you?” he gently asks. You peer up at him through your lashes, afraid to speak in fear of ruining the moment. 

You nod and he slowly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in them. You let yourself be pulled into him, sighing when your head meets the crook of his shoulder. You embrace him back, crushing your breasts against his hard chest. There, you two stay, bobbing in the water, linked with one another. “This feels so nice,” you drunkenly confess. “Like a fairytale.” 

“I’d hope so,” he murmurs to you. “You deserve it, mami.” And you start to believe it. After a few silent seconds, he pulls away from you, his eyes as dark as the night sky. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, his gaze hopeful. “I know I didn’t ask in the club and I feel bad about that, so I wanted to ask you now and–“ 

You don’t hear the rest of what he has to say because you’re too busy planting your lips on his. This kiss is hungrier now. Your lips move against each other’s like you both are starving for one another. You can tell Sero wants the same thing you want when his hands move below your waist to squeeze your ass, the feeling making you moan into his mouth. He replies with his own moan and pulls away, his eyes glazed over with lust.

He wordlessly kneels before you in the water and takes both of your breasts into his hands, kneading them gently. “Shit,” he softly hisses to himself, amazed at the sight of your hanging fruit and brown, hardened nipples. 

You softly whimper at his calloused hands caressing your sensitive breasts causing him to move on to other matters. He leans in and latches his lips onto one of your nipples where he begins to suckle on it. You throw your head back to stare at the endless sky, your mouth open in an O as pleasured moans fall from your lips. You can’t yourself, especially when Sero begins to suckle and flick his tongue along the sensitive bud of your nipple, his hand kneading your other breast in the process. 

Then he switches, giving your other breast the same treatment. Your hands find his hair, your fingers aimlessly wandering through the black locks of his hair. You’re ruining his mullet, but he doesn’t seem to care. He is more concerned with nibbling along your nipple, making you sharply inhale before your voice chokes on a broken moan.

You can’t take this. All of this is going straight to your pussy which is now throbbing and begging for attention between your thick inner thighs. “Please, Sero!” you whine, gripping his hair. “I need you to touch me.” Understanding immediately, Sero stares up at you, looking uncertain. He then stands, his body dripping in water, making your pussy throb even more at the sight of his glistening muscles. “You sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and hushed. 

You practically throw yourself at him, giving him a deep, passionate kiss that nearly takes his breath away. “Yes,” you plead. “Yes, Sero, please. I don’t care, just please touch me.”

You grapple for his shoulders, gripping them in desperation. You don't care how much you come off as desperate or slutty to be sleeping with a man you just met. You need this right now. And Sero is willing to give it all to you. “Okay, baby, okay,” he shushes you, pressing a chaste kiss to your waiting lips. “Let’s get us out of the water first.” He takes your hand and helps you navigate the waves as you make your way out of the water. Once you’re out and standing naked on the shore, you realize the gravity of what you just asked and initiated. Especially when Sero leads you to the cabana. Your eyes flit up to the resort yards away, realizing anyone could come out and see you two naked. “Will anyone see us?” you timidly ask.

“They may, they may not,” Sero replies, a devious smirk on his face. “If they do, they’re in for a treat watchin’ a gorgeous woman gettin’ her pussy eaten.” He then sits you down on the bed and kneels down in front of you. He gently pries your thighs open, revealing your sobbing, wet pussy. You watch his face change from playful to downright feral as he stares at your cunt. You flush at his expression, still feeling weird about this despite how hot and bothered you are. “But what if–“ 

He shushes you, leaning forward to press wet kisses along your inner thighs. “No more talkin’, mami,” he growls against your inner thighs. “I want my name on your lips if not those pretty moans I heard in the water earlier.” He continues to pepper your thighs in kisses while his hands pin your legs apart, his hold on you firm. He doesn’t want you hiding from him despite your cellulite and stretch marks, and rolls and imperfections. And it feels good. 

You don’t stop him when he dives right into your pussy, first peppering your lips and clit in open-mouthed kisses as if he’s making out with them. You can’t believe the way this man works his mouth! Especially when he starts to flick his tongue along your clit. His tongue swirls around it and flicks it gently depending on how you respond. And shit, are you responding well! Your body can't help but react pleasantly to the sensations––your toes curl; your back arches; your eyes flutter closed; your mouth falls open into an O as moans and gasps fall from your lips. 

Sero is not only good with his tongue, but also with his hands. He reaches up and plays with your titties, tweaking and pinching your nipples according to your verbal cues. “H-Harder, please!” you beg to which he pinches the hard, brown peaks a little harder, the bursts of pain making you gush all over his lips. “Fuck, Sero,” you moan. “That feels so good!” 

Sero moans approvingly into your cunt, the vibrations making your clit quiver pleasurably. “Keep feelin’ good for me then, mami,” he says in between wet flicks of his tongue on your rosebud. “Lean back and wrap your thighs around my head. I can handle it.”

He pauses to stare up into your shocked eyes, a grin on his face and a pussy-drunk look in his eyes. You’ve never had anyone ask that of you before. Plus, your thighs really are on the thicker side. What if you suffocate him? Before you can even agree or refuse, he is already pushing you back onto the bed, emitting a squeal from you. 

He stands on his knees for a moment, taking you in. His lust-blown eyes trail up and down your naked form, drinking in every part of you that you either like or dislike. Then he inhales deeply as if struggling to process the beauty in front of him. “Tu cuerpo es un país de las maravillas, mami (your body is a wonderland, mami),” he huskily says. You have no idea what to say to that. All you can do is shyly smile up at him as he smiles down at you, both of you enchanted with each other. 

Then he’s ducking back down and throwing your thighs across his shoulders with ease, wrapping your legs around his head. This gives him better access to your pussy so he can easily tongue-fuck you. As soon as you feel the wet muscle entering your wet folds and his nose brush against your clit, you are in heaven. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands find his hair, gripping the black locks as your hips begin to grind shamelessly into his face.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hums approvingly, keeping up the pace. He doesn’t pause or slow down. He continues to work your pussy just how you want, making you see stars behind your eyelids and cry to the moon above. 

It doesn’t take long for that feeling of release to dawn on you. You can’t help it. His tongue just feels too good! Plus, the atmosphere and the whole idea of getting caught in such a risqué position turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Sero must realize you’re close because his jaw starts to move faster, accompanying his tonguefucking with porn-worthy moans of his own that nearly throw you over the edge. “Fuck, Sero!” you whine. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna cum!” 

“Mmm-hmm!” he eagerly hums into your pussy. He pulls his tongue out of your hole and proceeds to suck on your clit while his finger begins to stroke the outside of your slit, barely touching your insides. But it is enough to push you further and further down that road to orgasming all over him. His darkened eyes flick up to yours, staring you down between your thighs. “Ven por mí,” he demands. “Cum for me, baby. Don’t fuckin’ hold back a damn thing.” He grins up at you, his piercings glistening in the moonlight. “I can take it; I’m a big boy.” 

He attaches your mouth to your pussy again and runs it until you can't help but fall over that edge. “Ven por mí,” he moans into your cunt, becoming gradually louder as your moans reach higher pitches. “Ven por mí, ven por mí, ven por mí!” 

And you finally do. That tight knot in your core finally snaps and a wave of euphoria washes over you as you cum all over Sero's face and eager lips with a loud moan that would shatter glass. You see the entire galaxy and beyond as your pussy gushes, your body shivering and shuddering. Your back arches and your hips wind into Sero’s face, trying to keep as much of the feeling going as possible.

When it finally fades, you’re left feeling tired, spent, and oh-so-good. Sero eagerly cleans you up, taking extra care to not overstimulate you as he runs his tongue over your sensitive, twitching pussy. Then he lifts his head up away from your thighs, giving you a peak of his chin and mouth shining in your juices. With the moon in his glazed eyes, he hums to himself. “You taste better than the rum,” he sighs. 

Something in that sentence and the way he looks at you brings something out of you––a passionate, raging fire that can only be tamed by him. Slowly, you bring yourself to sit up in front of him and grab his face to smash your lips against his. He moans into the kiss, surprised at the suddenness of it, but soon melts into it the more your lips move against his. Finally, you pull away and stare into his eyes. “I take it you liked it?” he breathlessly asks. 

“I loved it,” you purr, running your hands up and down his tatted chest. “Now I want to thank you in my way…if that’s okay with you.”

Your eyes trail down to the bulge in his briefs that has only gotten bigger. You also notice the visible wet spot soaking the fabric, meaning the guy was secreting precum when he was eating you out. The idea of this makes the fire inside of you grow. You may as well have told him you want to give him a million dollars with how fast he scrambles up on the bed, ready for whatever you want to do with him. You giggle, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before laying him down on his back. 

Keeping your eyes locked with his, you slither between his thick, muscular thighs and finally, finally, getting at those briefs. You gently pull them down, being careful to not scratch him with your nails, and gasping softly when his cock springs free from its trap. It pops up like a Jack-in-the-Box, hard, thick, and veiny. There is nothing but smooth skin down there, Sero’s pubic hair completely shaven. He notices you looking and blushes. “I sweat a lot down there in the summertime,” he sheepishly explains. “So I shaved…it isn't weird, is it?” 

You don’t even answer him. You just wordlessly take his dick in your hand, your pussy throbbing at how heavy it feels in your palm. You feel him tense at the feeling of your soft hand on him which coaxes you to begin stroking him, just seeing how he feels. He is soft and smooth, his skin stretching back and forth along his dick as you stroke him.

You pay attention to his body language, peering up at him every so often to see how he’s responding to your touch. He lays with his hands fisting the cushions underneath him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes closed. Deciding you’ve got him right where you want him, you spit into the palm of your hand and continue to stroke him, lubing him up.

Once his dick is shining in your spit, you attach your lips to the top half of him while your hand busies itself with the bottom half. “Fuck,” Sero sighs when your lips wrap around his shaft. “Tan apretada (so tight)…” 

You hollow your cheeks and open your throat to take him easier, realizing how big he is the moment he enters your mouth. He practically stretches your throat! How would it feel to get him inside of you? The thought makes you curious to take him deeper. After a few slow test runs where you slide your mouth up and down along his head, you begin taking him deeper. Sero’s hand moves to your head while his other arm moves behind his head, his hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Easy, mama,” he coos. “Take your time. Don’t take any more than you think you can.” You do as he says, only taking as much as your throat will allow. You gag around his cock as you begin to bob your head up and down along it, emitting orgasmic groans and swears in Spanish from his sinful lips. “Mierda! (Shit!)” he hisses, his hand tightening on your hair. “Lo estás haciendo tan bien…you’re doin’ so good for me, baby.” 

He continues to whisper praise as you gag and bob around him, using as much of your skill as you can. This includes using your free hand to stroke his balls, tugging on them when he begs you to. You ignore the ache of your knees in the sand and the tears pricking at your eyes, no doubt fucking up your eye makeup. The control he allows you makes you want to give him the best neck of his life, hopefully causing him to nut deep down your throat. You’ll gladly take all of it. 

Soon he begins to thrust into your mouth, his hips bumping against your chin as his cock fucks your throat. “Still doin’ okay?” he asks, to which you nod, emitting a moan from him when the roof of your mouth slides along his dick. “God, you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he whines. Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if someone came out here and saw me fuckin’ that pretty throat of yours?” 

You tilt your head up to look up at him better, loving the view of his body as he bumps your hips against your face again and again. Spit drips from your lips the sloppier your head gets, only making him fuck your face harder. “You like that idea, don’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly. “Naughty girl. What if that someone is one of your girlfriends? What if it’s a resort worker? You wanna be seen on your knees with dick deep down your throat?” 

‘Yes,’ you think, your pussy crying beneath you. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ You want that more than anything. You don't care how slutty that makes you. You want to be his slut tonight. You want to be his everything and more, if just for one night. Before you can eagerly finish him off, he slides his wet cock out of your mouth, sighing as he does so. You look up at him, confused. Doesn’t he want to cum down your throat? 

“You can say no if you want to,” he says, his chest heaving, “but I’m gonna be real with you: I wanna fuck you. I don’t care if it’s out here or back at one of our rooms, but if I’m gonna cum, I wanna feel that pussy wrapped around me first.” His words cause your pussy to gush desperately around nothing. You’ve never wanted someone inside you more. “I want that too,” you breathlessly answer, hurriedly getting to your feet. Sero does the same, taking your hands in his. “We can go back to my room, if you want. If the girls are there, we can go to yours.” 

Sero is more than happy to agree with that judging by how his cock twitches between his thighs. 

After gathering your clothes and other items, you both hastily dress in the resort robes to avoid getting kicked out of the lobby for entering nude before hurrying to the resort and through the lobby for the elevators. You use your key card to get upstairs, giggling at Sero’s wandering hands along your hips and his lips on your neck. When you finally make it to your floor, the man carries you–carries you–to your room. When you’re finally at your door, you press a finger to your lips, signaling for his silence. You’re not sure if the girls are back yet. 

Carefully, you unlock your door with the card and open the door to find your hotel room still quiet, dark, and neatly cleaned, meaning only the floor maid was in here. You’re going to feel so bad for ruining her nice work later, but you can’t bring yourself to feel bad now.

When the door finally shuts, Sero is on you instantly, his hands ripping off your robe and his lips hastily moving against yours. You’re no better. You can't stop yourself from tossing his clothes off too, revealing his naked body and hard cock in the silver moonlight that pours through the window overlooking the resort’s pool and beach in the distance. “I need to fuck you,” he huffs against your lips, his hands squeezing your ass. “Is it okay if I do that? It’s okay to say no if you don’t–“ 

You silence him with a kiss, gently sucking on his tongue and exposing yourself for your oral fixation. “Shut up and fuck me, Sero,” you purr to him. “I want you to take me to my bed and fill my pussy up the way I know you can.” You then pluck the robe tie from the floor, dangling it in his face. “And I want you to use this on me…please?” Despite feeling emboldened to talk to him in such a demanding manner, that shyness still peeks through. 

Sero looks stunned at your naughty request before a smile creeps onto his lips. “I should’ve realized how freaky you were,” he murmurs before pressing a wet, passionate kiss on your lips that makes you think of his mouth in other places. “Let’s waste no more time then.” He takes your hand and leads you to your bed which is right across from Mina and Uraraka’s. You were so happy that your room came with separate beds since you like to sleep with your panties off. 

As soon as you plop down on the bed, Sero is hovering over you, his knees on either side of your body. He holds the rope in his hands, staring down at you questionably. With a nod and a reassuring smile, you raise your wrists towards him. Take me.

He doesn’t need any other confirmation that this is what you want. He takes your wrists and wraps them in the tie before attaching them to your headboard so your wrists dangle. “Good?” he asks. You move your wrists around, testing out the new binds. Not too tight but not too loose either.

You nod and he pecks you on the lips before prying your thighs apart. You raise your hips up to meet him, gasping when his cock begins to slide against your slit. His eyes, hooded and hazy with lust, tick up to meet yours. “You still want this?” he huskily asks. You nod, whimpering with need and already yanking helplessly on your binds. 

“No,” he firmly replies. “Don’t just nod. I need your words, mami. Tell me you want me.” He slides his cock up, nudging the head against your clit. “Tell me you want all of this dick inside of this pretty lil’ pussy.” You moan in pure desperation, going crazy with need. “Yes, I want you!” you cry out, tears pricking your eyes. “Please, Sero! Please just fuck me, Papi!” 

The word slips out before you realize it, but Sero catches it immediately. You see his eyes widen an inch and then, in a flash, his entire personality shifts. As soon as he finally slides his cock head inside of you, you know that this is a different person in your bed. He is no longer the sweet, upbeat, concerned man you met earlier at the nightclub, but someone more dominant. Someone who has no problem breaking you completely and then putting you back together again. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Say that again,” he growls, beginning to roll his hips, sliding his cock head in and out of you at a slow, teasing pace. “Call me that again.” 

Weak moans leave your quivering lips as you struggle to stay still, afraid he’ll stop if you move. “Papi,” you whine, “please, please fuck me. I can't take much more of this. Please, please just–“ 

Your pleas are silenced when Sero slides in a little deeper, filling you up. A mutual gasp leaves your lips as your pussy walls tighten around him, keeping him nice and snug inside of you. He keeps up the slow thrusts, letting you get used to his girth. “That feel good, mami?” he huffs. “You like this?” 

As if he can’t see your eyes rolling into the back of your head and hear the moans coming out of you. “Yes, papi!” you sob. “Yes, I love it! Please go deeper!” Sero does just that, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to bump his hips against you a little faster now, never going any harder than you want him to. It is just the right speed and pressure to slide against your G-spot, causing you to cry to the ceiling. 

“Yeah,” Sero laughs, staring down at you. “You like this. You love gettin’ filled by a stranger’s dick, don’t you?” His hand finds your throat, applying a bit of pressure and emitting a gasp from you. “This was all you needed to give you that confidence boost, right? Just to get slutted out the way you need to be.” 

“Sero,” you groan, your pussy squeezing and clenching around his cock from his words. He leans down close to you, his lips nearly grazing yours as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. “But only I could’ve done this job right,” he whispers. “Only I can fuck you good like this. Right, princessa?”

His hips move faster, harder, his pelvis bumping against your throbbing clit that is close to exploding from the amount of stimulation and care it’s receiving. “Sero!” you loudly sob, gripping the tie around your wrists for dear life. Without a warning, Sero suddenly tosses your legs up to your ears so he can sink in deeper, causing you to nearly scream out as you see heaven’s light before your eyes.

“Tell me,” he grunts, his eyes posted firmly on yours. “Tell me only I can fuck you right like this. Tell me how good it feels!” Whines begin to leave his lips the more rapidly he fucks you, causing your titties to jiggle and the bed to rock. 

“So good!” you babble as your pussy squelches and clenches around him. “You’re making me feel so good, papi! I’m gonna cum soon!” You can feel your orgasm beginning to rise the more he grinds his cock into you, filling you to the brim with him. 

“Me too,” he groans. “Dios mío (my God), you just feel to fuckin’ good. And you look so pretty stretched around my dick.” He takes his hand off of your neck and strokes your cheek, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.

“Eres tan bonita (you’re so pretty),” he murmurs, staring down at you in utter adoration. “Eres mia…you’re mine now, honey. I don’t give a fuck if it’s just for the rest of your vacation. I’ll make you mine again and again, every fuckin’ day and night, so you won’t even look at another man back at home.” 

He begins to fuck you right into the headboard where luckily you have a pillow to cushion the blows. The feeling of him hitting that spot again and again without fail is so intense that you can’t help the noises that escape you––screams, cries, and sobs of pure, molten pleasure that you know you’ll never get again. He knows it too and that’s why he begins to slow down, working his hips the way he did on that dance floor. It’s too much on your body, too much on your pussy, and you can feel yourself beginning to reach your limit. 

Sero leans down to your ear, nibbling on the flesh of your earlobe. “I want you to cum with me,” he whispers into your ear. “Cum around this dick. Cum for me, mami.” He repeats the same line in Spanish, his husky voice filling your ear as his cock kisses your G-spot and his fingers move down to rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of no return. 

It doesn't take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you want to. You cum with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your orgasm washes over you. The moment your pussy clenches around Sero’s cock is the moment he cums too. He grips your hips and swears in Spanish before he pulls out.

It doesn't take long for him. He rapidly pumps his cock in front of your face before his nut spurts all over your body. You gasp as his moans bounce off of the walls, his cum feeling warm on your skin. When you look down, you find it the creamy substance coating your breasts, thighs, and jiggly tummy. There’s even some on your ass due to how high he has your legs up. You are completely covered in him and his scent. And you love it. 

Finally, after he feebly gropes one of your breasts and presses a kiss to your foot, Sero unties your wrists and pulls his flaccid cock out of your tender, sensitive pussy, emitting a soft, weak moan from you. Then he’s rolling off of you and plopping down beside you on your bed, exhaustion overtaking him. 

The two of you lay there in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow and processing what just happened. You just had sex with a total stranger. You let him tie you up and fuck you. You let him see your naked body. What shocks you is though you feel stunned at the whole thing, there is no ounce of shame or embarrassment anywhere inside of you. If anything, you feel satisfied with what just transpired.

You turn to Sero, realizing he’s looking at you already, his eyes shimmering in the slant of moonlight pouring through the window. “I meant what I said, you know,” he says, sounding out of breath. You blink at him, confused. “I want to be here with you, every day and night.” A blush coats his cheeks. “I’d like to spend your vacation with you…if you wouldn’t mind.” 

You blink at him again, stunned to silence. You have to be dreaming. You just have to be. There is no way this fine-ass man that you just met and gave up your pussy to is really talking about willingly spending the rest of vacation with you. He could have anyone he wants with that face, voice, and body, but yet here he is, laying in your bed, completely pussy-whipped for you and enthralled by your body.

Suddenly, for the first time tonight, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe I am that pretty. Maybe I am that sexy bitch he sees. Maybe I am beautiful.” 

“Is that okay?” Sero timidly asks, becoming nervous. Instead of verbally answering, you lean forward and press a long, passionate kiss to his lips that draws a purr of approval out of him. You pull away, staring up into his eyes. “Sero, you’re acting like you didn’t just give me the best two orgasms of my life,” you giggle. “Why wouldn’t I want that?” 

The biggest, brightest grin stretches across Sero’s lips at your answer and he leans in to bring you into another open-mouthed kiss that has you craving more. “You know what this calls for, right?” he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips. Heat pools inside of your core as your mind goes to other places. ‘Please say more sex.’

“A smoke,” he answers, giving you a wink. Though that isn’t the answer you were hoping for, you also know that you have plenty of time to persuade him for another round tonight. He gets out of bed to get his jeans and retrieves his baggie of blunts from out of his back pocket.

Then he swiftly gets back into bed with you and prepares a blunt for you to share. He does the test smoke first and you watch, aroused and entranced, as the smoke billows from between his pink lips. He then passes it to you and laces an arm around your shoulder, watching you lazily as you puff on the blunt. The silence that surrounds you is serene and comfortable as you pass the blunt back and forth between one another. 

When you pass the blunt back to Sero after your turn, you flush with embarrassment as naughty thoughts run through your head. “You think we can try something?” you timidly ask. Sero raises a brow. “I’ve…never shotgun with anyone before,” you softly confess, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Sero lets out a laugh that you weren’t expecting. “And you wanna do it with me?” he asks, his smile teasing and playful, making you flush even more. “I think I’m honored and turned on.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before passing you the blunt. “Here, you inhale first.”

You do as he says and inhale the smoke, letting it fill your lungs. He slowly leans in with his lips parted as if to kiss you, silently coaxing you to blow the smoke into his mouth in one slow, steady rhythm. You feel even more relaxed now–not just because the weed is working on you, but because you realize that Sero is a man who doesn’t judge.

He accepts every single part of you, inside and out. The thought of leaving him when vacation is over almost pains you, but you’re not going to think about that right now. Tonight and the next fun-filled days here are all that matters. 

“Feel good?” he chuckles, admiring your hooded eyes. You slowly nod, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Now it’s your turn.” He takes the blunt and puffs on it pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Come here,” he murmurs, and you’re helpless to resist him. You lean in, but he takes you by surprise when he firmly places his hands on your hips and flips you onto him so you’re now straddling him. 

You slowly part your quivering lips for him and nearly moan when he blows the smoke into your mouth in an indirect kiss. It is just as addictive and as sexy as a direct one, but nothing beats Sero’s lips on yours. You lean in and devour his mouth, swirling your tongue around with his. He tastes like weed, mint, and rum. You find yourself nearly shoving your tongue down his throat which he groans at, his hands grabbing your ass and giving you a smack that has your pussy crying. 

When you pull away, a sheen line of saliva connects to your bottom lips. “Round two then?” he asks, staring up at you with hooded eyes.

Before you can say yes or even plant your pussy on his cock that you feel hardening beneath you, you hear the hotel door unlock. Your heart leaps as you immediately jump off of Sero and hide under the covers while he sits up, hiding you from the strangers behind the door. 

In walks Mina and Uraraka, drunk and hyped up on attraction judging by the two hot strangers trailing in behind them. One is tall, buff, and redheaded with a toothy grin and his hand in Mina’s while the other is shorter but just as fit and sexy with platinum-blonde hair and crimson eyes that you know have panties dropping. His hand is on Uraraka’s lower back, his fingers toying with the little strings keeping her dress together. 

“So this is our room,” Mina giggles, inviting the men inside. “We have three different beds, so we can–“ She stops when her eyes land on you and Sero, naked under the sheets and staring at the four like deers in headlights. Uraraka gasps, covering her mouth and going as red as a tomato. 

“Looks like your room is preoccupied right now,” the redhead chuckles, grinning at Sero. “See you finally got her, man!” The blonde rolls his eyes, his hand still on Uraraka’s backside. “It’s about fuckin’ time,” he grumbles. “He’s been eyein’ this woman down the entire night like an idiot.” 

Sero looks at Mina and Uraraka who look like they want to shoot themselves. “I see you met my friends, girls,” he chuckles. “You’ve got good taste.”

The redhead winks at him and wraps an arm around Mina's waist. “Y’know, why don’t we go back to our room? We’ve got a hot tub, a minibar, and a great view of the beach. We could give these two some much-needed privacy, too.” 

Mina quickly nods and practically pushes the three out of the room, winking at you on the way out. The door shuts behind them, leaving you two alone once more.

Sero turns to face you and slithers his hand up your thigh. “So,” he purrs, “we still on for round 2?” He could’ve asked for five rounds and you would’ve given it to them. 

The rest of the night is spent in bed, with kisses, touches, snuggling, and endless pleasure that make you want to miss your flight at the end of the week. 

THE END. 

[rrr-is-gay]

FLUFFY SMUTTY RAMBHEEM HEADCANON PARTY, PART 10! (Can’t believe I’ve done ten of these! I never run out of ideas about how these two love each other!)

Ram and Bheem don’t really “talk out” conflict. They don’t even experience very much conflict, cuz their temperaments are so complimentary, and they adore each other so much. But of course, disagreements happen. And when they do, they always resolve with one of them doing some romantic, thoughtful gesture cuz he gets sick of the tension, lmao. And they both have a bit of a macho streak, so using lots of words to resolve stuff just isn’t really part of their dynamic. They’re much more inclined to hug it out, or cook dinner for each other as a peace offering, or wind up working together on a task and giggling about how in love they are, so they just forget whatever was bothering them before.

Ram loooooves bottoming. He CRAVES it. He really is just that guy who loves to get dicked down more than anything else in the world!! And who could blame him? Bheem lays PIPE! Bheem is the more sexually experienced of the two, and Bheem is a true vers, but he winds up topping most of the time because Rama just won’t stop begging for it!

Speaking of their sexual experience, I do believe it bears repeating that Komuram Bheem is a GOLD STAR GAY with a fair history of dalliances. Not an enormous body count or anything, but he’s been fuckin’ since he was a teen! None of his partners were ever willing to love him publicly, and he got used to being other men’s dirty secret. He always hated that. He was always out, like, his whole tribe knew about him. And they weren’t inclined to judge their protector.

Ram, on the other hand, is truly, truly repressed. He literally never even thought of himself as a sexual being before Bheem. He loved Sita, but always kinda clenched with fear when he thought about what he’d do on their wedding night. He hated himself for so long, he couldn’t even allow himself sexual gratification. (I elaborate extensively on this in Chapter 5 of my fic, which I will publish sometime between now and the heat death of the universe.) He certainly never thought about having sex with a man before Bheem. He would sometimes stare at men, think about their bodies, occasionally even imagine what it might be like to be touched by them, but never went anywhere with those thoughts. Gayness was simply not part of his self-concept. Bheem introduced it to him!

They are so, so, very, very snuggly. They love to hold each other in bed when they’re falling asleep. They love to hold hands while walking together. They hug & kiss whenever they greet each other after any amount of time apart. When they relax together, their bodies are always touching. They smooch and cuddle constantly. If you don’t like PDA, you’d HATE hanging out with Ram and Bheem.

Ram radicalizes the holy shit out of Bheem. He teaches him about the history of the British Raj and the atrocities they’ve committed. He teaches Bheem about the various resistance movements that have emerged over the years, and Bheem gets PROPER FIRED UP to join them. In fact, Bheem gets even more gung ho than Ram! They fight side by side until India declares independence in 1947. THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER BTW, THEY DO NOT DIE.

On that note, they live long, blissful lives together. They witness all the changes of the 20th century. They meet Shyam Singha Roy! (Crossover fic coming soon…) They are respected leaders and elders in their community, and they’re understood as a married couple, legal definitions be damned.

EDGING! Ram is a bit of a bratty bottom sometimes, and loves edging Bheem when he’s feeling particularly mischievous. He loves to get Bheem all worked up and breathless and sweaty, then pull away and make him beg for it. And Bheem BEGS, he is so vocal and dramatic, it’s honestly ridiculous. But Ram loves it.

[solarisjoon]

Cause every single touch don’t mean a thing And every time you’re calling out my name We know that it’s just not to be alone We’re loving like we’re animals (Animals by Alex & Sierra)

A/N: Whoo! This is finally done, and I’m quite happy to say that smut is easy and fun to write!  I will be posting a weekly/bi-weekly schedule tomorrow that I can truly follow now due to getting my mental health in check.  The third drabble will be posted tomorrow as well.  Feedback would be appreciated!!

Based on this ask from my Drabble NSFW Asks: anonymous said: For the nsfw drabble: d, 3, 63, and dom!hoseok, possibly an abo au? Id kill for a good dom/Alpha au rn love you btw

D:  3: “You’re such a useless whore.” 63: “Keep going, bitch. I want to see tears rolling down your cheeks.”

Pairing: Dom!Jung Hoseok X Reader ABO!AU Genre: Drabble Word Count: 2164 (Not really a drabble anymore huh?) Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

Cause every single touch don’t mean a thing And every time you’re calling out my name We know that it’s just not to be alone We’re loving like we’re animals (Animals by Alex & Sierra)

Receiving the text had caused a rush of heat to flow through me, and I clenched my thighs as I licked my lips:

Hosuck: My apartment, NOW

I hadn’t graced him with a response as I hurriedly shoved my books into my bag and bid my study group adieu for the day.

“Where are you going, Y/N?”  My best friend, Kim Taehyung, asked, concern etched onto his features.

“Heading home for the night Tae, don’t worry about me.”  He stood quickly and grabbed my arm, his nostrils flaring as he scented what I tried hard to conceal.

“You’re going to see him, right?  Don’t lie to me, I can smell you Y/N.”  He shook his head at the small noise I made in protest.  "I thought you were done with him, all he’s going to do is hurt you, he doesn’t care about you.“

Pulling my arm away, I narrowed my eyes, "I know Tae, all we do is fuck, and it’s none of your business who and what I do.”

The growl that reverberated through the room caused a shiver to run through me and I whined, tilting my head to show submission to the angry alpha in front of me.  Taehyung’s eyes widened and he backed away from me, “Shit Y/N, I-”

My eyes watered as I glared at him, “Forget it Tae.”  I left him there, rushing out of the library with shame coursing through me at the display I had just given every Alpha in the room.  Taehyung had never handled me in that way before, albeit how unusual and pressing it was for an Alpha and Omega to be best friends, we could control our instincts around each other.  It was upsetting, and I worried my lower lip between my teeth as I debated blowing Hoseok off for the night so I could go home and have a good cry.

As I passed his dorm complex, I could smell Hoseok, surprise rang through me at that, and I hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  Entering the entryway, I glanced around and found Seokjin hurrying to the entrance, shoes barely on and a strange look on his face.

“Jin?”

He realized it was me standing there and breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh Y/N, thank gods.”

I cocked my head as he pulled me into a quick hug, the comforting scent of a Beta wrapping around me.  "What is it?“

"It’s Hobi, he went into rut early, I barely got out of there.”

My eyes widened as I realized the issue, and I pushed Jin away, “No, no.  Hobi and I agreed not during heats.  You know as well as I do what could happen.”

Jin’s eyes twinkled as he grinned, “Well, that wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?”

“He doesn’t feel the same as I do, Jin.”  I mumbled, turning away and hanging my head.  "I’m gonna go, just call Hanyu for him, he needs another Alpha to help him.“  I started to turn, pushing the door open as I went, cutting Jin off mid-sentence and hurrying home.

After arriving back at my apartment, I stripped and showered, trying to keep my mind from thoughts of Hanyu and Hoseok together.  Finishing up quickly, I threw on some comfy, yet old, pajamas and settled in front of the TV for a good binging session of Say Yes to the Dress.  Sighing, I shoved a spoonful of rocky road ice cream into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully as I thought of myself in the brides’ places with Hoseok as the-

Okay, ending that train of thought right now.

Sitting up fully, I set the ice cream down on the coffee table in front of me, stretching my arms above me when I heard a loud bang come from the front door of my apartment.  Before I could react, a sweaty, shirtless, Hoseok came into my living room and the overwhelming scent of cinnamon was washing over me.  I let out a low whine and showed my neck to the Alpha before me, slick gathering between my legs at an alarming rate.

“I texted you,” Hoseok growled, fangs on display and anger making his eyes grow gold with his Alpha fully presenting.  

“Jin told me it was your rut and-” I gasped as I was suddenly pressed up against the wall, Hoseok’s knee between my legs and his teeth at my throat, his nose rubbing against my cheek.  

“I called you,” I froze, my mouth going dry and I glanced towards my phone sitting on the coffee table.  If Hoseok had called me in the midst of his heat did that mean…?  No, I wasn’t going to go there, he wasn’t thinking straight and neither was I due to his scent wrapping me in cinnamon cloves.  The Omega part of me wanted to just submit to the Alpha scenting me, it wanted me to spread my legs and take him like a bitch in heat.

I had to stay focused, if I let myself go then Hoseok could accidentally mark me, and I didn’t want the Alpha to be angry when he came back to his senses, marking an Omega like me.  I felt the nip before I saw him move, the growl resurfacing, ”Why do you smell like another Alpha?“

"It’s just Taehyung, I was at a study group with him and-"  Hoseok shut me up with a bruising kiss, his tongue licking into my mouth as if to gather every bit of my essence for his own.  I keened, my back arching into his body as his knee pressed against my center, rubbing against my clenching entrance.  A blush coated my body at the feeling of slick running in rivulets down my parted thighs, I was sure by now I had soaked through his jeans.

”He touched you, he touched what’s mine.“ He had pulled away from my mouth, licking at my lips now.  His words had me gasping as I ground against him, euphoria washing through me at the blooming feeling of hope in my chest.

"H-Hoseok…”  This was dangerous, I was letting myself slip into his rut, into him, and yet I loved it, I was excited by it.  I clenched against him, trying to hold myself back, as well as trying to stop more slick from escaping; the wet sounds of my grinding against his thigh were a bit embarrassing.  "Please…“ I broke, giving in to his lust and my love.

The salacious grin I was grace with let me know I was in trouble for running away.  ”Good girl.“  The rumbling of Hoseok’s Alpha voice set me on fire, and I gripped his hair before pulling his lips to mine, fighting for dominance with my tongue and tracing his canines gently.  Hoseok groaned, rutting his hips into my belly, and I realized just how affected he was by me.

Steel pressed into my stomach, rubbing a burning trail along my navel and making me beg for more.  Hoseok happily obliged, flinging me over his shoulder and spanking my ass as he did, the keening cry I let out urging him on quicker to my bedroom.  The air split around me as I was thrown onto my mattress, a soft oof leaving me at the force of his throw.  A ripping sound echoed around us as I realized he had ripped my pajama shorts and panties in half, tossing the tattered threads behind him as he set his gaze upon what he wanted.  

"Hey! Those were expensive!”  I was more upset at the loss of my favorite pair of lacy panties than my sleep shorts, and even though he was the Alpha he needed to know what he had done.  

“I’ll buy you as many pairs as you want, just let me touch you now.”  Hoseok growled, his hands already sliding up my thighs as he crawled towards my center.  His devilish tongue lashed out and licked a burning stripe up my slit, causing me to cry out at the pleasure.  "Just like that baby girl, let everyone know what’s going on.“  The puff of his hot breath against my core made me tremble, his lips brushing against my clit with every word he spoke.  

Glancing down, I saw his golden eyes watching me as he lapped at me, a slow grin curving at his lips before he truly set out to devour me whole.  Almost immediately, two fingers were shoved deep into my pussy, stretching me and hitting my g-spot in rapid, quick strokes.  I keened and clawed at his hair, pressing him deeper into me, craving the pleasure he so willingly gave.  His tongue lashed me, swirling about my clit and then tapping it quickly, keeping me so close to the edge but not letting me get there.

”You’re such a useless whore, letting me have my way with this pretty pussy while you just whine and cry.“   Again, his words caused me such great pleasure, lips teasing my clit in such a perfect way that I cried out and came, stars shining in my head.

When I came back down from my high, Hoseok had undressed himself the rest of the way, his golden eyes watching my chest heave from under my vest top, and lips still shiny from my release.  ”Get rid of that before I do it for you.“  I scrambled to pull it over my head, so I wouldn’t have to deal with yet another ripped item of clothing, and watched as his gaze zeroed in on my chest, more specifically, the way my nipples hardened under his watch.  My own gaze focused on his leaking length, the purple head absolutely dripping with precum and his balls heavy with his release.  I tracked the veins that wrapped his steely shaft, and watched how his knot flared gently at his base, ready to lock me to him.

I went to move onto my knees to give him some relief before Hoseok held me back, ”Later, now I want you to ride me.“  I nodded and sat up, watching as his cock bobbed while he settled against my pillows, a grin lighting up his face as I crawled over him, slick dripping onto him.  I took him in hand and held his head against my entrance, breath hitching as I pressed down, my body taking him with slight difficulty as he seemed to be much larger than normal.  I moaned as I sank onto him, my clit rubbing against his navel with every breath.

At the slow growl that  left him, I started to move, my hips pounding down onto him with such force the bed creaked in protest.  The slick sounds of our coupling entranced him, as he watched where we were joined with rapt attention, licking his lips and letting out groans of pleasure.  Every slap of my body against his had my energy sapping and a whine flying from my throat, a sudden, sharp smack to my ass had me jolting and opening my eyes to see the Alpha, my Alpha watching me.

“Keep going, bitch. I want to see tears rolling down your cheeks.”  I obliged, slamming myself harder with each smack against my rapidly-bruising ass cheeks, my slick pooling onto his stomach by this point and making everything that much wetter.  Tears started to gather in my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling, Hoseok’s cock swelling with each stroke.  Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my head and slammed his mouth into mine, licking into me and making me taste my own pleasure on his tongue.  I kissed him back with as much vigor, pushing myself to finish with my Alpha, as his knot was catching on me with every pull out.

Hoseok pulled away from my mouth and trailed kissed down my neck, nibbling little galaxies into my skin and making me cry out his name.  ”Shit,“  He growled out, hands grabbing my thighs and nails digging in deep enough to make me feel the bruises I would have.  He thrust up with a force I didn’t know he had and shoved his knot into my waiting pussy, his cum flooding me and filling me to the brim.  His teeth were in my scent gland in a flash, and I keened and came around him, walls pulsating and milking more of his seed from him, my own, slightly smaller canines digging into his scent gland, marking Hoseok as mine.

Hoseok smiled at his mate, her sleeping figure covered in love bites and bruises from his hands, sufficiently marking her as his.  Of course, the mark that covered her scent gland attested to that fact, and the many other rounds that had followed the initial marking.  Their combined scents of cinnamon cloves and jasmine surrounded him and made his Alpha happy; they had their Omega, finally, and no one could take her from them.  She truly was his wolfsbane.

[narrators-journal]

hello ma friend How you are? I Hope you are okay.

Persona 5 and 4

Sae niijima x narukami x margaret.

Kinks: threesome, maledom, Yuri, petplay, lingerie and impregnation

A smutty história where narukami dominates and breed his pet Margaret which has a dog collar and New lovers sae.

Tanke you and stay safe dude

Hello again! I’m doing okay, hit a bit of smut burn out lol, But, now that I’ve had a dose of something other than the nastiest smut prompts possible, lol, I decided to try my hand at some more. And while it’s still not perfect, I’m much happier with my creativity here. Still struggling with the descriptions of sexual pleasure, but with any luck I’ll be able to cure that with more down time between dickings down.

For this one tho, I mostly just wanted to spice up my threesomes. I’ve done a fair handful of Narukami throuples, and I feel they’re getting a lil stale. So! I took some liberties, reworked the impregnation part into more of a breeding kink and Milf!Margaret angle, dabbled in some post-canon domesticity, and played a bit fast and loose with ‘threesome’ lol. I hope it’s still a good read tho!

CW: Milf!Margaret, Narukami and Margaret have a child. Bondage, collars, toys, a small bit of voyeurism, but Narukami is the one giving the orders this time! Lingerie, masturbation, breeding kink lol, Margaret’s a bit of a brat in this one. Lotsa ground covered, but none are leaned into SUPER heavily I feel.

M: Are you awake, Yu? N: Yeah, was about to take melatonin tho, why? M: How much longer are you going to be away? N: Another few days probably? >_> M: Damn. If that’s the case, could we video call? I can’t keep my surprise a secret much longer.

A surprise? Hm…

N: Sure, hon. Give me a moment to set up my laptop. How’s the kiddo btw? Still camping? M: Yes, they’ll be back tomorrow night though.

As Narukami continued to message back and forth with Margaret, he found his laptop in the darkness of his hotel room and powered it on to illuminate him. The video call program not too hard to set up, but his first call wasn’t picked up, he returned to their texts.

N: ? M: Sorry love, give me a moment, I need to fetch something for your surprise. Ten minutes tops.

Narukami snorted at that, but waited until Margaret messaged again,

M: Okay, sorry that took a bit longer than I estimated. Please call again.

That got an eyebrow raise from the grey-haired man, but he didn’t bother messaging back, simply tried the video call once again. And, that time it was answered. So, Narukami was greeted with his own dimly lit bedroom on his screen. “Are you there, master?” Margaret hummed playfully, the use of his sexual title instantly sending a bolt of heat into his pajamas while she casually adjusted the camera before she stepped into frame. And, jesus christ was she a sight.

Standing in front of the camera, dressed in her embossed leather collar and midnight-blue satin panties with a soft corset top that held her plump breasts in by criss-crossing strings and sheer luck, was Narukami’s old velvet room attendant. The tiger stripes earned by the birth of their child able to just peek out on the small section of belly the panty set didn’t cover, and her warm golden eyes aglow with a mischievous light as she smiled at him through the screen. “Do you like this new set, Master?” She hummed, leaning forward so that her breasts nearly spilled from the cups of her top, “I thought it’d be a nice surprise for you~” “Oh, i-it is.” Narukami finally managed to mumble when his brain finally remembered how to string his words together. Yet, as the attendant stood up again, her smile only grew. “Teriffic! I have another surprise for you, master!” “Another? Jesus, babe. I leave you for a week and you lose all of your training, huh?” The ex-wildcard chuckled, his words noticeably feeding the bratty glint in his lovers beautiful eyes. “Maybe just a little~” She admitted, “But give it a chance, sir. I think you’ll like this surprise just as much.”

With Narukami’s interest properly piqued, Margaret waved another person into frame, her whispered encouragement not loud enough for the speakers to clearly pick up. But, her words didn’t really matter, as after a few short moments, Narukami’s attention was snatched away by the new body that came into view.

Clad in babydoll-style lingerie set of a strawberry hue that contrasted deliciously with Margaret’s, was an entirely new woman. Not Elizabeth, the usual sidekick to his attendant’s more bratty moments, but a more toned woman with stern brown eyes and long, wavy hair in a similar grey shade as his own. “Master, this is Sae Nijima. I befriended her at the gym, and she agreed to help me surprise you tonight.” Margaret introduced, her slim fingers settled upon the pink-cheeked woman’s hips while Narukami drank in Sae’s figure.

She was definitely a contrast to Margaret’s softened figure. More muscular than the types of women that usually gave Narukami that primitive urge, but the loose, sheer fabric that hung from her top, and the warm color definitely seemed to be a flattering style for her. Accentuating her smaller bust while pairing with the small window into the room to keep each peek of naked skin a flirtatious gesture. She may not have seemed like his usual type, but god did his erection not give a shit. ”Well, hello miss Nijima.” He offered politely, though his words seemed to catch in his throat. “You can call me Sae, I think...this situation is familiar enough to drop the formalities.” Sae said with a nervous chuckle, so he nodded. “I take it you aren’t mad at me anymore?” Margaret suddenly prompted, which, got another nod from the man. “I’ll forgive this unprompted decision, so long as I’m told her boundaries.” He confirmed, so, with a smile on her pretty lips, the old attendant prompted Sae to explain her limits. And as she spoke, Narukami let his hand snake into his pajama pants to tease his cock with the gentle brush of his fingers.

Once Sae had laid down her boundaries, Narukami gave her a charm-laced smile, “Great, so you don’t have any issue with being tied up, right?” He hummed, a fresh bolt of excitement poured into his blood when he saw Sae’s cheeks turn pinker as she shook her head. “Alright then, Margaret, tie her up and blindfold her.” “Yes sir~”

While Margaret fished the soft BDSM rope and a thick blindfold from their intimacy drawer, the old wildcard let out a slow breath to ease the tension already built up in his gut from little more than the show and the soft touches he gave himself. Though, once miss Nijima was good and tied up, sat on the edge of her bed within frame, with Margaret behind her with her arms draped over the woman’s shoulders. “Any other requests, sir? Or do you just want to see the both of us tied up tonight?” She teased, and he chuckled back, “No, though that would make a lovely photo set~” able to see how the flirtatious tone he let slip into his voice ignited a filthy light in his baby mama’s eyes before he continued to instruct, “But, that can be done later. This time, I want you to use a toy to tease Sae a bit.” Which, Margaret was eager to go through with.

Narukami, meanwhile, finally wrapped his fingers around the aching cock that threatened to rip his pants open. Though, he held off on the movements just yet. The simple increase in skin-to-skin contact enough to simmer his blood even before Margaret returned into frame with a vibrator in hand.

Sadly, all the grey-haired persona user could do was watch as the collared mother of his children pushed Sae’s thighs apart and drug the quivering toy over the smooth fabric of her red panties. But, he still relished each moan that fell from the woman under the mercy of his attendant’s actions. Which, admittedly weren’t the most patient of actions. “Slow down, babe.” the charming man reminded when Sae squirmed beneath Margaret’s hand. Yet, beyond a playful glance back at her camera, the attendant ignored him in favor of tugging her partner’s panties down her thighs to press the unyielding toy directly to her clit instead. The loss of the thin barrier’s protection enough to earn a surprised gasp that quickly fell into needy moans. As if Narukami needed another hit to the willpower that kept his hand still on his cock.

But, he managed to bite back the urges. He didn’t want to blow his load too soon and end the show early. “Alright, that’s good, Margaret. She’ll cum too soon if you keep that up.” Narukami chuckled, able to hear his old attendants bratty huff even through the speakers of his laptop. But, even if she gave the screen a bratty look, she pulled the vibrator away from Sae’s twitching cunt. Which, earned her one of Narukami’s charming smiles from his end of the connection.

If he’d been there, in the same room as the two beautiful women that so kindly put on a show through the screen, he would’ve kissed the woman. Or, better yet, put a child or two in both of them. But, alas, Narukami wasn’t there to pump their wombs with his cum, he was in America for some lame work conference. So, all he could really do to curb how fast his blood raced was tighten his grip on his cock and finally begin to slowly stroke. Man, being an adult sucks. “Is there anything else you want me to do to your new pet, sir?” Margaret asked, the dance of amusement and arousal in her words drawing the ex-wildcard out of his thoughts and back to the sight of the silver-haired women keeping him company that night. Those glittering gold eyes focused on him through the camera to freeze the slow strokes of his palm along his tortured length. The new ‘pet’ of the group, meanwhile, now sat beside Margaret on their bed, half leaned against the silver-haired attendant limply while she panted. Left to recover from the unrelenting stimulation of the toy. Narukami didn’t know much about her beyond how his lover picked her up to assist her in this long-distance game, but he still felt the same primitve itch in his loins to put a child in her the same way he had Margaret.

“Master?~”

Once again, Margaret’s voice pulled Narukami out of his thoughts and back to her and how her golden eyes twinkled as if she could tell just how hot the sight of two beautiful women who waited for his orders had him under the collar. “A-ah, right.” He said quietly as his hand returned to its slow movements, “How about you treat yourself and have Sae eat you out?” He hummed, and even through the layers of video, he could see his old attendant’s vibrant eyes light up at that.

But, he left her to work out the positions without further instructions. Instead, he let his mind wander for the third time that night. Still vaguely aware of the two women performing for him, but he also drifted between memories and fantasies while he stroked himself. Each one of Margaret’s soft moans that the speakers let slip through another splash of gas on the low burning fire in his belly. “Good girl…” he breathed, his grey eyes focused back on Margaret now, watching as she balanced herself over Sae on his bed with her hands on the human woman’s hips. Her eyes closed against the waves of pleasure each flick of Sae’s tongue gave, and her mouth open slightly to let out more gentle noises at his praise.

After that, maybe he’d let Margaret cum before switching the focus to Sae once again. Maybe.

God if only I was there...

[yoyomomiko]

Do that again I8+

REQUEST: « I need some smut with shousuke, i'm dying to see one. I search it everywhere but i can't find it. I hate ai to make me like this😭 »

Pairing: Shousuke x F!reader (aged up)

Summary: You and Shousuke have known each other for some time, mostly because of his sister, but also because you used to be classmates back in highschool. One day, while you're over at their house, something explicit happens.

Warnings: AGED UP (Both reader and Shousuke are 18-19)!! SMUTTY!! IT'S CRINGE I'M SORRY IT'S JUST SO AKAWARD😭Najimii uses He/Him but also She/Her in this fic, because Najimii is Najimii; Curse words; making out; F★I★N★G★E★R★I★N★G!!; Pretty much just F!reader recieving (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

(A/N): Okay, so this was a request that was in the comments!! And this is my first smutty fic ever, so i'm a bit embarassed to do it, i didn't know it would actually be that hard to make one😭 BUT i'll start it slowly, and maybe in the up coming future i won't be that embarassed and i'll actually write a whole smut fic, SORRY LIKE ACTUALLY I'M SO SORRY TO WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS!😭🙏 BTW IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE MADE ANOTHER FIC - (i'm back😍💋)

You were over at Komi-san's house yet again, walking into her room. She (Tadano) called you and Najimii over to her house.

“Komi-san, i'm here-" You tried to greet her as you walked inside her room, only to be met by Najimii throwing himself on you, resulting in you falling onto the floor.

“Get off!” You yelled out as Najimii got up.

“Why did you even do that?” You slowly stood up, rubbing your head. He only shrugged as he smiled like the dumbass he was.

Komi was pretty embarassed herself at what happened, and she was sulking on her bed.

“Oh, by the way Komi, where's your brother?” You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“Ooooo! Why do you wanna know, you like him or something?” Najimii teased you, your cheeks flushing a crimson red.

“What? No way!”

“Come on! You're an adult now, aren't you? You still don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend yet!”

“How do you know that?! It's none of your business!” You stated in a panicked tone, hands on your blushing cheeks.

Before the bickering continued, Komi showed you her notebook, wich said "He's in his room".

“Ah, i see... Then i'll go by and greet him. I'll be back soon!”

Najimii gave you a knowing look, as Komi just nodded.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You wandered around the house, and then finally arrived in front of Shousuke's door.

You were about to walk in, but before you could, the door opened and you bumped into Shousuke.

“Sorry! I just came by to greet you!” You told your friend, and he only nodded in response. Quiet as usual.

He suddenly pulled you inside his room, closing the door behind you. You also closed your eyes as soon as Shousuke pulled you inside.

You felt your back touch the door, and you finally opened your eyes to see Shousuke right in front of you, leaning in, a bit too close.

“Is something wrong...?” You asked as you felt your cheeks heat up a bit.

Shousuke shook his head 'no' as he leaned in closer, noses almost touching. You felt too embarassed to say anything, your heart beat increasing.

All of the sudden, his lips were lightly and barely touching yours. Your cheeks were crimson red now, heart beating so fast you thought Shousuke could hear it.

He wasn't kissing you yet, he just waited there. You looked at his face, only to see that he was blushing just as hard, lost in his ownt thoughts.

“You can kiss me.” You blurted out, gaining confidence.

Shousuke flinched at your words, but he leaned in, finally closing the distance between the two of you.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“Do that again...” You demanded in a breathy voice, gaze fixated on his eyes.

He instantly pulled you into another kiss, listening to your request and obliging happily.

You never thought that Shousuke would be the one to make the first move, but it seems that you were wrong.

His lips felt so angelic, his touch delicate. He pulled you into an embrace as he held you soflty. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes.

You loved him ever since high school, but you've never gathered up the courage to admit it. And now, there you were, kissing oh so sweetly.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

What led to this moment? You can't remember.

A few minutes ago, you were sweetly hugging, gentle kisses here and there, but now... Things escalated.

You were having a full on make out session right now.

Shousuke was pushing his hips into yours, licking your lips, tongues interwinings as he held your hands togheter, both of you on his bed.

He was on top of you, slamming his lips into yours hungrily. You were gasping for air at this point, while he silently whimpered at the friction.

Both of your tongues were dancing togheter, you felt spit form at the corners of your mouth.

Shousuke searched any type of touch, his hips slowly dragging on yours as he pulled away from your lips.

You were about to complain, but before you could, Shousuke started leaving love bites on your neck. You yelped and flinched slightly, but you surely didn't mind it at all, pulling him into your neck by his hair, pushing his head deeper, so that you can feel his lips on your skin as much as possible.

He started to leave more and more hickeys, sucking on your most sensitive spots, earning whimpers from you. He bit a certain spot that made you see stars in front of you.

Shousuke kissed, bit, and sucked on your skin, before he licked all the marks he left and pulled away once again.

“Shousuke...” You called out trying to pull him back in. You knew you were being desperate, but who cares? It's not like Shousuke would mind that, not one bit!

You were slightly upset that he pulled away, but before you could say anything else, his hands trailed down to the hem of your shirt, looking at you as if asking for permission.

You quickly nodded, giving him consent, as he slowly pulled your shirt up, looking at your chest. You still had your bra on, but Shousuke didn't seem to mind. He blushed a bit harder as he looked away in embarassment, before helping you pull your shirt off completely.

He got on top of you again, his hand slipped down into your pants, your cheeks a tinted pink while you stared at Shousuke, lost in a daze.

You felt his fingers briefly graze your folds, and you immediately let out a gasp. Shousuke gazed into your eyes surprised, unsure and clearly very hesitant with his actions.

You nodded at him, and he got the signal. You were already wet, before he even touched you.

His fingers prodded at your entrance, but instead of going further, his pointer finger pressed down on your clit.

You shook your legs a bit, but went past it. Shousuke started to make a circling motion on your bud, earning sweet moans from you.

He gathered up your slick and went down to your entrance, slowly pushing two of his fingers inside of you.

You moaned, feeling the way his long and thin fingers stretched you just the way you wanted. Your walls clenched around his two fingers as you spread your legs further, giving him more space.

Shousuke started a slow pace on fingering you, getting you used to it, before he started a faster motion. He pressed the tip of his fingers on your g-spot. You felt your breath hitch at the back of your throat, heart beat increasing.

You started moaning as Shousuke's fingers moved faster inside of you, getting you closer to your high.

He started pushing his fingers up to his knuckles, crossing them over for extra pleasure. He plunged them faster and faster, as you felt like you were on cloud nine.

You were so, so close, and just as soon as it came up, it got back down.

Shousuke pulled his fingers out of you, tapping your lips with them and forcing your mouth open, before shoving his fingers in at the back of your throat, earning a choke from you.

“'Suke... Don't do that...” You felt like yelling at him for ripping you away from such a perfect relief!

The quiet boy only nodded, as he slowly got up from his place.

“Hm? Where are you going?” You asked in genuine curiosity.

Shousuke stared at you and started walking towards the door, ignoring you. He was making this so akaward...

“Wait- let me return the favour at least!” You quickly spoke up, wanting to pleasure him as well (definetly not to edge him as well).

Shousuke stopped at the door, his hand that was reaching for the door handle now frozen in the air. He seemed to think about it, but he shrugged it off and left the room as If nothing happened at all.

What a complete jerk...

He did all of that, just to leave and ignore you completely? The audacity!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

What you didn't know, was that Shousuke left for the bathroom. What you also didn't know, was that he was looking at himself in the mirror, face flushed red and a hand over his mouth. His eyes wide and eyebrows furrowing togheter.

He couldn't believe what he did. He's such a dumbass for leaving! He should've stayed, but he couldn't handle all the embarassment! What if you regreted it later? He couldn't do it!

What he could do, is jerk himself off every single night to the thought of you. Your pretty face, so close to reaching your high, was now imprinted into his mind.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“Hey guys!” You walked inside Komi-san's room, glancing towards the others.

“What took you so long?!” Najimi threw herself at you, resulting in the both of you falling down to the floor.

“Najimi!” You yelled at her as you pushed her off, sighing to yourself.

“No, seriously! What took you so long to say a simple hi?! It's been almost 20 minutes! If not, even more!” She argued and whined as she got off of you.

“Did you kiss him?~” She got close to your face and teased you. Does she not know what personal space is...?!

No, dummy, he shoved his fingers up my-

“Ew! Gross, i didn't kiss him!” You quickly protested and forced yourself to your feet.

“Fine, whatever you say. Let's play some video games!” Najimi smiled brightly and jumped on Komi-san's bed.

Najimi noticed something, as she started observing you.

You sat next to Tadano, trying to forget what happened earlier.

But you just couldn't...

Najimi leaned into you.

“Oh, by the way, what are those on your neck?”

[cursedwithwords]

Do you have any favorite Jeddy fics? What fics do you recommend to read?

I'm gonna be so honest with you rn and admit I do not read a lot of Jeddy anymore. None of them were written exactly how I liked, so eventually I stopped reading fics. I've written a ton, but I haven't read anything new in YEARS.

But, you did ask, so i went and hunted through my Ao3 history to find the fics that i remember enjoying. These are all fics I read forever ago but still think about. It's not a lot, I'm sorry, but I am the pickiest bitch alive, on god 😭 none of these have smut btw. They're all fluffy or just canon typical action or violence.

Baby Please Come Home

L'ombre noire

Everything He Ever Wanted

chariot

Back when I was first in the fandom, most of the fics coming out had smut, and that just wasn't my thing. So I didn't read those fics, and I didn't write smutty fics much either. I think I wrote a handful of smutty fics, and they got tons of attention, and it was so annoying to me cuz none of my other general fics got that much attention or appreciation. That was one reason I phased myself out of fandom, and why I'm trying to stay on the fringes this time around. One of many reasons. But anyway, I hope you enjoy the fics I linked, they're all pretty cute 😩 I'm sorry I don't have more for you.

[quazzzz]

The cat says is a cute modern au oneshot and features kitten melog

Midnight is a fake dating oneshot with i think a couple more chapters added on now but another modern au

Home is wherever im with you is a very sweet modern au with no magic and very little hurt. Its a personal fav

Theyre in college in all those and none feature smut

Wicked games is a canon divergent au where prime never showed up? Or he did and didnt do anything? I forget its been a while. But basically the horde has stopped fighting, hordak is gone, catra is in charge. The princesses come to take out the horde in their base and adora tricks catra into marrying her to give her immunity from formal punishment. Its a very fun and slightly smutty one. Slightly might be an understatment

Tonight will be the night (that i will fall for you) is a very long and decently smutty horde lord adora and princess catra enemies to lovers au. big angst and bigger comfort in that one.

These are in order by length btw happy reading

just finished rewatching she-ra, anyone have any good fics to read? maybe about them returning magic to the universe? or anything catradora basically :)

[rainchyna]

would you ever do headcanons for dating bret hart in the 90s? 👉🏻👈🏻 if not it’s totally fine !! I love your writing btw especially for shawn !

i love you sm, and bret, my baby-

⌗ ˚ ͙◌˖ ࣪ . ִֶָ𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟗𝟎𝘀˖ ࣪ .ִֶָ

warnings! [none rly, fluff, language, slightly smutty]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‒ you and bret weren’t that close in beginning

‒ you kinda just saw him around the company and he saw you, but never anything really.

‒ “dude you have to meet bret!” owen would say. Owen was your best friend, you both were trained by the same person and have had a lot of sessions together. He always wanted you and bret to be friends because then he can hang out with two of his favorite people simultaneously.

‒ he threw a party just for you two to meet, there were a lot of other wrestlers that you were friends with, and it was genuinely a nice time, owen was in front of you talking to bret, he looked at you for a split second before walking away. ‘that’s my chance’

‒ you walked up to bret and introduced yourself, he thought you were very pretty. You were a smooth talker and had this charm to you which completely swept him off of his feet. He found you really interesting, your jokes were actually funny and when you stopped talking the silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Everyone around you could’ve sworn that if you hadn’t seen each other before it would’ve been love at first sight. Your chemistry was undeniable.

‒ you two became close after that, and even owen started complaining that bret stole his best friend.

‒ bret would spend the majority of his free time with you, he started realizing that he would try to look his best for you, always do anything to impress you, and the way you complimented him and his work made feel like you truly cared, or was it just all in his head? Did you feel the same way?  Did you get the same butterflies he felt in his stomach? Or did you feel that tingle of excitement he felt every time you would meet up? Did you feel the same way?

‒ you noticed how bret became physically closer to you. He would hug you a little tighter and always had a hand on you. He would kiss your temple every time he’d see you. you noticed that his touches started sending shivers up your spine, and his kisses would make you blush and shy away from him. You really, really liked bret.

‒ owen watched everything unfold and would stand there, menacingly, smirking at you two because his plan was finally working out the way he wanted, he knew you’d be perfect for each other, it was just taking you a while to realize that. A little too long actually, so he took matters into his own hands. “so, when are you two gonna kiss?”

bret: ( ˙▿˙ )

y/n: (¯▿¯)

owen: °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

‒ that night you both confessed your feelings for each other

‒ and owen was like: (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ fuck yeah

‒ bret is such a sweetheart :(

‒ he's always looking at you with so much love in his eyes

‒ he's always holding your hand. must. hold. your. fucking. hands.

‒ seeing you in his hitman jacket does something to him, his girl? in his iconic jacket? brain go brrr. seeing you in his clothes in general makes his brain crash, so he gives you his shirts, sweatshirts, hoodies and jackets because eye candy is the best candy.

‒ loves loves loves holding you close to him, whether if he has an arm around you, or on your waist, or if you're on his lap, whatever. he wants you to be close to him at all times.

‒ good luck kisses before matches

‒ definitely the boyfriend who would get one milkshake and two straws so you can share it.

‒ kisses on your hands, kisses on your neck, kisses on your forehead, kisses everywhere, soft kisses, rough kisses. making out with bret is an experience.

‒ gatekeeps you while showing you off, wants everyone to know that you're his girlfriend and only his, you can look but can't touch. but also wants nobody to even look in your direction or breath near you.

‒ 'angel', 'my baby', 'love' [crying]

‒ wants nothing more than mixed tag team matches with you.

‒ you definitely have a bret hart teddy, and bret definitely gets salty when you sleep with it. "you literally have the real life bret hart in your bed, and you would rather sleep with the bear???"

‒ smiles to himself thinking about coming back home to you (what if i cry myself to sleep, huh)

‒ his biggest reassurance is knowing that you'll always be by his side and that you'll always support him regard less of what happens, knowing that he has that someone who has constant love and support for him makes him feel at peace. ( :'( )

‒ he takes the relationship very seriously, he's the 'here for the long run' type guy. especially with you, he wants this to last because he genuinely cares for you and sees himself having a future with you.

‒ has a photo album of just you and him, random photos of you and him doing random things. that one time you put makeup on him, when you made cinnamon rolls at 2 am, planting flowers in the garden, stargazing, roses on valentines day, and so many more. most of them polaroids. one that he keeps on him all the time, is a polaroid of you on a balcony in a hotel in paris, you were looking out at the effiel tower and the wind was blowing in your hair, a pretty while silk and lace mini dress highlighted your figure.

‒ obsessed with the thought of getting you pregnant (outta pocket ik)

‒ wants to fuck you dumb every time he sees you in his hitman jacket

‒ pull his hair-

‒ he's very sweet, loves you very much, cares very much, nothing that he wouldn't do for you <3

‒ 385/10, very much recommended.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Sweet Dream Are Made of This pt. 5

Dark! Peter Maximoff x Fem Reader (Mob Au)

Hey y’all!! So this time I was a little more on top of updating!! This chapter is where things really start to pick up so it’s a long one. But he prepared cause it’ll prep y’all for next chapter (which will have smut btw).

Summary: Peter has felt like a piece of him has been missing ever since he was taken away from his mother to be raised by his father. But when you seem to fill that piece there’s no way he’s ever letting you go

Word count: 4k

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of kidnapping, some smutty concepts and thoughts (but it won’t be full on smut till next chapter)

Your face scrunched up at the sunlight that fluttered through your window. You reluctantly opened your eyes and sat up in bed. For a second you were panicked, not recognizing the decor and the bed you were in. You looked down at the crumpled velvet of your dress and it all fell into place. Erik and his son Peter and how you were now expected to stay here. Your hands attempted to straighten out your hair, fighting for some control in a situation where you had none. 

You didn’t remember what happened after Peter had left your door, only that feeling of dread that settled over you. You couldn’t even remember getting into bed, but you must have left that door only to collapse in bed, not even bothering to pull back the duvet. You yawned, still not fully awake. 

You had slept rather peacefully despite your situation, the soft pillowy bed made it easy to forget that you were kidnapped and brought here as a gift for a maniac’s unsettling son. You found it hard to wake up, finding it much better to dream than to face the reality that awaited you. So you did, falling back down, curling further into the bed and tucking your arms close. You were just about to drift back to sleep when there was a knock on your door. 

You held your breath not knowing who was there or what they wanted. The person on the other side didn’t say anything, instead they waited a moment before knocking again. You continued to stay quiet, shaky legs getting out of bed and looking around for a place to hide in case they managed to get in. There weren’t many places to do so, the room was quite big but all it’s things hung out in the open. There was only a bathroom, no closet, the clothes hung on a rack on the opposite wall. 

“Are you awake?” A voice asked, it was quiet and shy. It was Peter. You looked around the room wondering what time it was, but despite all the decor a clock wasn’t one of them, come to think of it there didn’t seem to be any clocks in this manor. Everyone you had seen wore a watch and relayed strictly on it. 

You could hear his breathing, he was pressed close to the door, his hand causing the handle on your side to dip down as he ached to open it. You stayed near the bed, not wanting to engage with him. “I brought you breakfast. You slept through it but father said it was okay if I brought you a plate just this once.” 

Your stomach betrayed you with a rumble causing you to approach the door. You did as you did last night, only opening the door as much as the lock would allow, unsure if you would accept what he had brought you. “I don’t want it.” 

Peter frowned, bending down to look you in the eyes through what little room you allowed him. “You need to eat.” 

“I don’t want it.” You insisted, giving a frown of your own. 

“But I brought it for you.” You were taken aback by his change in tone. His frown was replaced with an expression much shocking. He looked like a kicked puppy, his dark eyes wide and dejected as he struggled to understand your rejection of his meal. “You didn’t even get up to eat breakfast with me. You were supposed to sit next to me. I saved you a chair.” 

It was strange the way his words made you feel guilty. You were being held captive by them and yet he made you feel as if you were in the wrong for not coming to eat breakfast with him. Before you knew it you were apologizing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what time it was.” 

Peter ignored your apology and pressed on. “We eat at 5:30 every day. I came and waited by your door before getting called down but you never came.”

You tried again, “I’m sorry.” 

He sighed, his brown eyes watering the slightest bit, it unsettled you even more. “It’s okay. But can you eat with me now please, to make it up to me.” 

Accepting the meal was very different from accepting the meal and his company. You didn’t want to at all and you felt sicker and sicker the longer you looked at him, not because of him but because of how he was making you feel. You let your fingers curl around the door and Peter lifted his hand to touch yours, his fingers greedily roaming what he could touch. You had to restrain yourself from pulling away from his cold touch, trying to use what leverage you could to get him to leave. 

“Your hands are soft.” He whispered, his hand coming to lie fully over yours. His eyes darted up to your face, his pupils wide and lost in his iris. He was riled up from such a small touch, his breathing shallower as his grip got tighter. “I wish I could touch more of you. And I could if you’d let me in.”

You swallowed thickly, locking your fingers with his. He gasped, face flushing. “How about instead I eat breakfast with you tomorrow.”

“But you already have to. Father won’t let you eat in your room anymore after today. Unless-“

“Unless what?” Peter's whole face was consumed by blush at your question. You decided it was best to drop it. 

“Well.” You wet your lips. “What do you want in exchange for me eating my breakfast alone?”

“You.” 

There was no delay in his answer. You tried to think of something else to offer him. There was no denying that the way he looked at you made you feel a way. You hadn’t been looked at like that before but you couldn’t let basic instinct distract you from logic. You had just met and even then the circumstances were out of the ordinary. Handing yourself over to him in that way or any other way was insanity. “What if I let you see me before bed. “

“For how long?” He asked eagerly, intrigued by your offer. 

“No more than five minutes.” You added. He frowned at the short time. 

“May I have something else as well?” You nodded, hoping that whatever he would say next would aid in the deal. “Will you kiss me goodnight?” His voice was low and needy. 

It was your turn to flush, you could feel your cheeks heating at his request. It was much less extreme than his first request, your stomach rumbled again in a much more demanding tone forcing you to yield. “Alright. One kiss, nothing more.” 

He smiled and nodded, agreeing to your conditions. You opened the door enough for him to hand you the plate. His hand lingered on yours for longer than you cared but soon the door was shut and you were alone again. 

You looked down at the food you had been given. It looked as if Peter had gotten you a little bit of everything, not quite sure of what you liked and what you didn't. Little cubes of fruit were piled in one corner and in the other sat scrambled eggs with a couple strips of bacon. 

Scattered alone what open space was left was an assortment of breads, muffins and other breakfast delicacies that you normally didn't indulge in. Being a teacher, you didn't have much time in the morning to make it to school so your breakfasts usually consisted of shake substitutes or whatever donuts were brought to the office that day. Never something like this.

As many things that Peter had brought you he had forgotten to bring a fork and a napkin. You smiled at his forgetfulness and sat down on the cedar chest at the foot of your bed. You broke apart the food with your hands and ate as you looked around the room, finally having a chance to take it in. The bed sat in the middle of the room, it’s head resting against the back wall.

 It was a light blue bed, a silky canopy falling down off the frame to rest and be tied at each corner. It had simple ropes holding it in place so that at any moment you could close it around you and hide behind it’s silky covering. There sat a vanity on the wall behind you, it’s surface decorated with a vast collection of products and makeup, and a plush stool tucked under. There was also a bookshelf, it wasn't nearly as filled as the vanity but it wasn't bare either. You stood up taking your plate with you to examine its contents. 

Your eyes scanned the spines of the books, noting with a touch of horror that all the titles on the shelf were your favorite books. The more you looked around the room you realized that some of the personalizations of this room were tailored to you spcidcallu, as if they had done their research before constructing it for you. 

You finished your breakfast and sat the plate down on the vanity. You made your way over to the clothing rack, warning more than anything to change out of the uncomfortable dress you had been forced into. The clothes that had been picked for you seemed to be the expectation of a custom personalization. You couldn't deny that they were all of good taste or that they would fit perfectly. But they weren’t exactly picked with comfort in mind, they sought to impress. There wasn't a pair of sweats or a casual shirt you could wear while you hid out in your room.

You picked out the most comfortable outfit you could find and slipped it on. Peeling off the custom velvet and leaving it to hang on the end of the clothing rack. You had just finished changing when there was a knock at your door. 

“Peter?” You called out.

“Guess again.” You recognized Erik’s voice by the way it sent a sick feeling through you. You knew that the tricks you used to avoid seeing Peter wouldn't work on his father. You undid the lock and opened the door. 

Erik didn't invite himself into your room; he just stood in the doorway. “How did you sleep?”

You glared at him, not wanting to give him an answer but knowing that was a dangerous thing to do. “Fine.”

“Well I guess it had to be “fine” If you managed to sleep 5 hours past breakfast.” Your face burned at the embarrassment of him catching you in your lie. “Because you are new here I will excuse you from meals with us for today but I will not be so lenient in the future. So, don’t let it happen again.” 

You nodded and he took it as a sign to move on to the topic he was really here to discuss. “I will be out all day today as I am everyday except for the weekend. But that doesn't mean that I don't know what goes on in my house when I’m not around.” He spared a quick glance at his watch before turning back to you. “You have my permission to roam the grounds, inside and outside of the manor. Our property ends where the big forest starts but it would be unwise to attempt any type of escape through there.” 

You nodded again, figuring it was better to answer this way than another. “Peter had classes today, he had them every other day so when he is occupied by those classes or business the days are yours to do what you wish with them.” You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. At least there would be some time that you would have to yourself. You had barely met Peter buu he was suffocating, lhe needed to be near you at any given time and you didn't like the hold he had on you already. 

“But.” Erik smirked and you felt your heart drop. “Peter also has days off between classes. And unless he is needed for business then you will be expected to spend all day with him and act as his company. In any way he wishes.” Erik ended with that and stepped back into the hall. “So I would suggest that you get out of this room while you can. Good day (y/n).” 

************

You took Erik’s advice and left your room shortly after his arrival. You made your way down the hall, careful not to touch anything. Your sock clatted feet padded softly though the manor, it seemed to be the only sound. Everyone must have been out attending to “business” as Erik called it. You stopped at the stairwell, taking in the view from the large windows at the top where you stood. You hadn’t noticed them when you came in.

 They were so clear it seemed that there was no glass at all. It overlooked the backyard, which to your surprise was a large garden. It was willed with luscious greenery and an array of plants, there were enormous trees and ceramic statues that decorated the whole yard. And despite the winter chill you knew was outside, the backyard looked as if it was an everlasting summer. You could image the warmth of the sun on your skin, healing in you in a way only it could 

“Hello.” You nearly let out a scream at the sudden voice. You whipped around to face the voice that had scared you out of your daydreaming. It was a child, a little boy no more than five staring up at you with a wide smile. 

Your mouth was opened in shock, you would have never guessed a child could be found in a house such as this. You kneeled down to his level. “Who are you?” You asked, his kind face and smile being the first you had encountered in the house. 

“I’m-”

“Alex!” You looked up to see a man running down the hall in your direction. “I told you not to leave the room.” 

The man lowered his voice when he saw you standing next to his son. “You’re (y/n).”

“Yes.” You confirmed standing back up. “How do you know me?”

The man glanced around the halls, as if he was afraid of being overheard. “Jean had told me they were looking to bring someone in for Peter. She had told me your name. I’m Scott by the way. And this is my son Alex.”

You studied Scott as he did the same to you. He seemed different from the others in the house, and the way he spoke to you was different from both Peter and Erik. 

“I thought everyone was supposed to be out.” You stated, trying to figure out what his place was. 

Scott hesitated before answering. “Well everyone is, but I’m not like them.” He paused. “I’m like you.” You were stunned at his admission, not believing that there had been someone else like you brought here as a gift for someone else. He continued on. “I’m a mutant like them but after my brother passed I went to see someone about getting rid of it. I don’t use it like they do.”

“What do you mean?” You took a step closer and Scott stepped back. “About using their powers.” 

He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. He picked his son up and let him rest his head on his shoulder. “Just do as you're told it makes things a lot easier. It was nice meeting you (y/n).” 

You were left standing alone in the hall, your head filled with more questions than answers. Your mind was racing as you made your way back to your room, too shaken to explore anymore of the house on your own. You had known that mutants existed, some of your students were even mutants.

 But there were second and third generations so their powers were very limited and mild as much as the modern mutants were. There was a somewhat coexistence that existed in the world, though it was more favorable for non mutants. People choose not to show them off and rather blend in with the general public. But if that;s what Erik was doing here, rebuilding the mUtant population you couldn't imagine the power they held. Especially if they were all as cunning and ruthless as him. 

You spend the rest of the day lost in thought, completely forgetting your arrangement with Peter until there was a soft knock at your door. “(y/n)?” He called. You got up and stood by the door. You had regretted making this agreement with him, and after the new information you had learned you wondered if Peter was just as dangerous as his father. However you needed what you could to stay in both of their good graces. You took a deep breath and undid the lock, opening the door for Peter. 

He was standing very still, his hands clasped behind his back. You opened the door wider and stepped back to allow him in. He did so silently, his hands gripping each other tighter as he took in the room. Peter let his eyes wander to their heart's content, he had never been in this room. His father had told him it was being made into something special. He felt his pants tightening when he noticed your lacey bra laying on the clothing rack.

 It was something so insignificant and yet it was sending him into a tailspin, he couldn't help but imagine what it looked like on you. And what type you were wearing now, was it sheer like that one. Was it a low cut one or was it a pretty blue like the room? He would like to see you in a blue sheer one with a matching pair of panties. Maybe you would let him take them off of you, maybe you would touch him while you wore it. 

He suppressed a whimper and broke his gaze away from it, his hands coming to rest in front of his crotch. He shouldn't get ahead of himself. He hadn't even kissed you yet and he was already imagining you on top of him in a blue lacy set.

He swallowed, turning to face you. “It matches mine.” 

“What does?” You asked as you closed the door. 

“The colors.” He answered. “My room is done in blues too.” 

You were a little uncomfortable at his admission, figuring that Erik had decorated it on purpose to mirror Peter’s.

You moved from the door but you made sure to maintain the same amount of space from Peter. You stood by the bedpost, hands playing with the silk curtains. Neither of you spoke, not sure what to say to one another, you both knew what he was here for. “How was your day?”

You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to ask such a mundane question. “It was good. I walked a little down the hall.”

He stood standing in the middle of the room, his head bent downward, only looking up when he heard your voice. “Did you meet anyone?” 

The next question made you think that perhaps he knew about your encounter with Scott. He was looking at you intently, his eyes challenging you to deny what he already knew. “I did.”

“Who was it?”

“I think his name was Scott.” Peter’s face soured at your answer. His heart ached at the thought of anyone but him getting to spend time with you when he wasn’t able to. He thought of Scott with his all american tan and good looks. Then he thought of himself and his milky skin and unnaturally silver hair. Someone like you deserved Scott not him. But it didn't matter, you were for Peter not Scott. 

You waited for him to press you on it but he quickly changed the subject. “I want my kiss now.” 

“Alright.” You silently thanked the fact that your voice wasn’t shaky. Peter smiled and quickly strided over to where you were standing. He took your hand and you let him, he sat back on the edge of the bed while you stood above him. He had a leg on either side of yours trapping you in. 

You could tell he was just as nervous as you were, his eyes begging you to make a move too nervous to make the first move. You could also tell that the promise of a kiss was riling him up, in taking your hand he had unknowingly revealed the semi in his pants. You felt your breath hitch, an unwanted arousal spreading through you. The way he looked at you, so submissive and willing made your legs quake in want. But you couldn’t give in to him, you only could give him what you had promised and nothing more. 

You took your hands away from him and he whined in response, you softly shushed him as you brushed his bangs back with a gentle touch, He melted, his whole body going lax in your hold. You pushed his bangs all the way back and leaned down, laying a kiss on his widow's peak. He shuddered at the foreign feeling. “There’s your kiss.” You whispered against his brow. 

Peter let out a full whine now, frustrated at tour denial. His hands locked behind you back and he pulled you close, burying his face in the soft flesh of your clothed stomach. You gasped at the hug but allowed him to do so, curious as to what exactly he was doing. “That’s not what I wanted.” He grumbled. 

“And what did you want?”

“A real kiss.”

“Was that not a real kiss?”

His cheeks turned warm and he pushed his face closer into the security of your embrace. Hoping to relax your body the way you had done for him. Instead, you hung frozen in his grasp, your hands not coming to hug him the way he wanted. “You promised me a kiss on my lips.”

You shook your head, pulling him away from you. “I only promised you a kiss I never said where.” 

You held his arms away from you as he yanked them away, forcing them back around you. He had pulled you impossibly closer, your knee now brushing his crotch. His eyes rolled back at the foreign touch. Your eyes widened at his reaction, not wanting it to go any further you backed up, stopping him from rolling his hips against you. 

He was about to let out another pathetic whine out you made him swallow it, cupping his face and kissing him on the lips as he wanted. His eyes were half lidded, fighting between closing to savor the moment or to stay open and memorize the way you looked as you kissed him. Before he could decide you pulled away, hands falling back to your side. 

Peter had fallen back to rest on his elbows, his eyes hazy and blown wide. Lips a bright red as they let out little bursts of air. He looked completely fucked from a kiss that lasted no more than seconds. Your cheeks warmed at the expression. “More.” He slurred. 

“No.” You protested, moving further away from him. “I said one kiss and I gave you two. That’s enough for tonight.” 

Peter watched you and you went to open the door, waiting for him to get up and exit your room. He let himself fall fully back onto your bed. ‘Please.” He begged.

“No.” His eyes widened at your harsh tone, it was very different from the softness of you had just experienced. “If you don’t leave I won’t have breakfast with you.” 

“But you have to.” Peter protested sitting up, 

“No I don't.” You lied. “Erik said I could eat in my room all the time if I wanted.”

You held your breath as you let Peter take in the lie. It was a slim chance he would believe you but after a moment he did. Reluctantly standing up and exiting the door. You bid him goodnight and he did the same. 

He gripped your wrist and you paused your closing of the door. “Don’t talk to Scott anymore.” His grip was getting tighter and the look in his eyes was dark and dangerous. The submissive boy panting on your bed was long gone and replaced by this malicious thing before you. 

“Okay.” Peter smiled and let you go, disappearing back to his room just as he had done the night before, leaving you and your thoughts alone yet again.

Taglist: @joshdunstoothbrush75 @enemy-of-wonkru @coffeeandteaintheevening @livingmybestfictionallife @amourtentiaa @madison05x @rottenstyx @shlutnutt @raincoffeeandfandoms @ietss @cursedandromedablack @castielsguardianangel22 @nightlockcornucopia @mossybank @usuck @tatesimper @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @darlingevanpeters @whyisaah @derangedcupcake @hollandlover19 @urfavtemptress

[canyouhearthelight]

Hi! I was wondering if you happened to have an AO3 account (archive of our own)? I’ve been reading The Miys but I only use tumblr mobile which can be difficult at times. If you don’t, could I ask if you’ve ever considered setting an AO3 account up? (Apologies if this comes across as rude btw, I’m really really enjoying the series!!)

I hope you have a great day! :D

Sooo.... Time to come clean...

Yes, I do have an AO3. It should be under the same name. Unfortunately, it has exactly 3 works on it...

All of which are SPN fanfics I did for a Secret Santa exchange several years ago. 2 are Destiel, 2 is Sabriel, bc that is what my folks wanted. None are smutty, and I personally think the one in Arkansas is hilarious, bc the only made up shit in that entire fic are the SPN characters. Hot Springs, AR, really is just that damned weird.

That said, I am working on getting Miys posted over there. @quantumizedinsanity is helping me with the necessary editing, but between my full time job and their class load, things aren't going terribly swooftly.

The goal is to post the first 100 chapters in one go, then 1 or 2 a week until caught up or done, whichever comes first.

I don't know where you are at in the story, but most of the chapters (excluding I think the last 3) have page links at the bottom to make it easier.