#//The severe strain on her body is what caused it and will continue to if she isn’t wary of that
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Don't you agree we need more A/B/O for love and deep space?
Omegaverse Scenarios with the Boys
Content warning: Omegaverse, jealousy, marking, scenting, fluff, mild sexual content, no pronouns, MORE ABO! MORE ABO!
Original Post
“You’re back.”
You whip your head around to see Xavier standing at the balcony door, looking serene as ever in the mid-morning light. The soft look the sunlight gives him brings a smile to your face. However, it quickly strains and breaks, collapsing into a frown as Xavier steps out onto the deck. There’s nothing scary about his demeanor; he seems calm as usual but there’s a subtle tension in the air that fogs heavy from him.
Wordlessly, Xavier scans you up and down, focusing on…something. You’re not sure what he’s searching for, but you suspect he’s found it when his forehead creases and his voice drops.
“Did you visit Philos while you were out?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You smell like Jeremiah,” Xavier concludes coldly, which causes you to hold on tighter to the little packet of plant food clutched between your hands. “What were the two of you doing?” he follows up; this time he fixes his face and flashes you that sweet smile.
You’re smart enough to not be fooled by the innocent expression he puts on whenever he tries to pry information out of you. However, you have nothing to hide and answer honestly.
“My friend has been sick, so I wanted to send her some flowers.”
“Is that all?”
"I also got plant food for the strawberries," you add, flashing the green packet of nutrients.
"That's not what I meant."
Your suspicion tipped off, you raise your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Xavier closes in on you, each step making your heart pound as he boxes you in between himself and one of the large ceramic pots homing the strawberry plant. Raising your hands to your chest, your knuckles brush against the tassels of his hoodie as you try to make some space between the two of you. It's clear you have no room to run, and a part of you isn't sure you want to escape.
Xavier reaches out to you; his hand sweeps under the collar of your black turtleneck, sending jolts through your body when his fingertips hit the sore bruise in the soft junction of your neck. The way he immediately finds that tender target reminds you of the way he hunts down wanderers with precision, persistence, and unfortunately, pinpoint accuracy. Despite the severe shivers being coerced in your soul, it doesn’t frighten you as he traces around your scent gland.
“You’re practically shaking,” he mumbles, gripping the neck of your shirt and giving a gentle tug, exposing your bond mark. “Are you cold?”
“No," you answer immediately, watching his snooping hand from your periphery, "and don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head as he continues to fumble with your clothing. “I was just wondering why you were so covered up.”
“There’s no reason,” you breathe out, distracted by the fierce concentration reflecting from dark pools of blue so different from the soft glimpses and angelic gazes he normally shares with you. They strike you so deeply, peering through you so sharply that memories from how the mark was made begin to flash through your mind, fumbling any other excuses you might have said.
“None at all?” he comments, making your face warm. “If the mark hurts, it’s nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then, why are you covering it up?” he asks; this game of cat and mouse quickly unravels when he brings up, “Did you not want Jeremiah to see it?”
“That’s not it,” you deny with a sigh, pushing his hand away.
You never understand how Xavier can be so jealous. Jeremiah is a friend to both of you; he has been for centuries from your understanding. Even if there was some point in those decades that Jeremiah possibly had feelings for you stronger than friendship, you didn’t hold those same feelings for him. You only desired to be bonded with one person, the one standing in front of you. Even when he was being a needlessly jealous dummy.
“It has nothing to do with him.”
“Do you not like the way it looks?” He questions instead, his demeanor softening only slightly with regret. With a slight blush, Xavier pouts and rubs the back of his neck. “I admit I was a little out of it when I did it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it! It’s pretty,” you finally yell, which causes him to clamp his mouth shut enough for you to explain better. “This is the first time anyone made a bond mark on me, and it’s a little embarrassing cause then everyone knows, we’re um…” you start to lose your concentration when he looms over you. You take a sudden step back, stopping only when the pot behind you threatens to fall over when you bump it. “Doing things…together.”
Chest aching, you hope your explanation is satisfactory. You never want to make him insecure but the idea of people knowing intimate details of your love life makes you sheepish.
“So, you don’t want him to know.”
“Xavier, did you not listen to what I said?”
“I did but isn’t what you said still a roundabout way of saying you’re hiding it?” He teases with a small laugh. There’s a pleased curve in the smile on his face and a shimmering light like stardust in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, that’s from knowing he’s the first and only one to ever mark you. How proud he would be if everyone was aware of that fact. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by something so natural. Everyone, especially him, should know you’re mine and I’m yours.”
You open your mouth to protest but you’re interrupted by him grabbing your wrist in one hand to prevent you from squirming away as he hooks a finger into your turtleneck. Pulling your collar, he presses an open-mouth kiss to your bond mark then higher up to nip the soft flesh under your earlobe, higher until he's breathing into your ear.
"I'll fix it," he murmurs and kisses your neck again and again until all you can make sense of is the heat blooming along your throat with each touch of his lips.
His kisses lack his normal gentleness; they’re filled instead with a desire that makes your knees shake and buckle. You’d fallen if he hadn’t held you closer, squeezed you to him like letting go would be the end of him, as if he finds joy in feeling the aftershocks of your fluttering heart against your ribcage.
“Xavier, what are you-you-ah."
You desperately hold in the moan that builds up in your chest as he continues to bite into your skin and the sound of his kisses fills your ear smooch by smooch. Xavier chuckles against your flesh.
“Relax. I’m not going to do anything bad to you. I’m simply making a few minor adjustments to your first mark." He hums, tongue sliding along your neck to mark its target. “I think this is a good spot,” he whispers before sinking his teeth into your pulse.
It burns in a searingly blinding way, and your eyes roll up when he sucks onto your bite-broken skin. He doesn't stop until he manages to ring out a strangled moan from your throat. He cements his work with another swipe of his tongue then pulls away to admire it.
He paints that innocent smile back on his face as he locks his eyes with yours. His voice is light and airy like a weight is off his shoulders when the fresh mark peeks from your turtleneck. "This time I gave you a mark you can’t hide."
It’s another day at the arcade and another day Zayne watches you spend an exorbitant amount of money winning a plushie you could’ve easily ordered cheaper online. The Tinkle Toy you win this time is cuter than the normal fare at least. It’s a bright candy streamer rainbow, with smiling pink cotton candy clouds.
“I did it!” you cheer and hold out your prize to him in search of his approval. He congratulates you on your well-earned victory. With a smiling face, you push the toy closer to him rather than hug it to your chest in your normal possessive manner.
“What is it?”
You wave the toy back and forth. “You know.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
In truth, Zayne knows exactly what you want, and it makes his neck hot under the collar. He presses his pointer finger to the bridge of his glasses and pushes them further up his nose as an excuse to avoid your slowly narrowing gaze. Your previously cheerful smile flattens into a stern line and your tone becomes more demanding.
“Zayne,” you repeat ominously, like a parent scolding their child for not finishing their chores. Somehow, it always works to earn his attention, and he briefly glances over the toy again; it looks much less cute this time, the carefully stitched smiles now a mocking grin.
Zayne examines his surroundings: the kids running around the overly decorated and gaudy arcade, the bored and drowsy-eyed employees behind the gift counter, the many older siblings and parents trying to win tickets for the little ones, and, well, you, glaring him down. That look tells him you’re not going to be willing to let this go despite how crowded the arcade has become in your short time here.
“You want me to scent your toy for you?” he questions, adding for emphasis, “Right here?”
“Rainbow Candy can’t join the other plushies in the nest without being christened by the leader.” Poking out your lip, you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. It doesn’t move him enough to give in, not until your eyes start to gloss like stained glass and you softly plead, “Please, Dr. Zayne.”
Ice quickly breaks and chips in the mildest bit of sunlight, dissolving into warm puddles, and it’s just like that when Zayne finally breaks and melts at the smallest insistence from you. Grabbing the toy, Zayne quickly shoves it against his throat, ignoring how plush the toy feels against the underside of his chin. He trails it up and down the column of his neck, swiping it one final time under his chin. It’s a simple motion, done quickly and precisely to efficiently cover the toy in his scent in the least amount of time possible, yet it still feels so inappropriate to do here under your watchful, yearning gaze threatening to make his body stiff.
As he feels his limit about to be broken, he hands the rainbow back to your waiting arms.
“Is this satisfactory?”
You squeeze onto the toy as if someone could snatch it away. You press your face against it, smelling deeply, and when you look up at him from under your brow it’s with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever witnessed.
“Your best work yet, Dr. Zayne. Good job!” you giggle, and he has half a mind to pinch your cheek and wipe that childish grin off your face. “Now, I’ll have something to remember you by while you’re at work today.”
“Is that why you demand I scent all your toys?” he asks, and you nod slowly.
“You’re always so busy that I hardly get to see you outside of the hospital, so when I get lonely I just cuddle with these guys,” you confess. You press your nose deeper into one of the garishly pink cotton candy clouds; this time when your eyes waver like watery skies, it isn’t to sway him. “When the teddies smell like you, it’s like I’m holding a piece of you too.”
Those words connect everything that has ever happened between the two of you together, stringing the moments like a red line of fate. Despite the words I love you never leaving your lips, it excites the same effect that can make a sane man an idiot, an effect not even Zayne is immune to when you so innocently and freely express your feelings to him.
It’s a skill he struggles with; though for you and your happiness, he’s willing to give in and let loose the restrained mask he wears on his face as he listens to the one person he’s longed for all this time admit that they get lonely without him beside them.
“I think scenting you before my shift would be more comforting,” he offers; the adoration glowing in your irises makes him weak enough to stroke your forehead with the back of his hand. There’s a little whimper muffled into your plushie while your forehead feels hot to touch before your face falls into shock and your eyes dart around the room, like his before. As sweet and innocent as you can be, you can also be very easy to read. “You’re thinking inappropriately.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Not here.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Zayne gently pokes your forehead to clear your head of the improper thoughts running through it causing you to whine and rub the spot, which only reminds him how you’re much, much cuter than any plushie.
You hold in a giggle as Rafayel shoves his face against the crook of your neck. Since you came over to his studio, he hasn’t been able to tear himself away from you, which left you sitting on the couch, covered in little splotches of dried paint, trying to discern why he feels the need to drag his hands down your arm and audibly sniff your hair.
His breath is heavy and ragged as he sucks in a breath, or rather your scent, and continues to trace up your skin until his finger can finally sink into the collar of your button-up. “Did you do something different today? New lotion? Bath Soap?”
“I did what I normally do every day.”
Rafayel groans against your skin again. You haven’t seen him hot and bothered, face soaked and flushing red with fever, since his last ebb day, which already happened earlier this year.
“Are you sure?” His lips on your skin feel so familiar that your body is immediately on edge and reacting to every stuttered exhale he makes whenever your leg so much as brushes against him. He sinks closer to you, removing any space in between your bodies. “You smell delectable.”
“Rafayel?”
“I just want a taste.”
“Rafayel, are you rutting?”
“No, I’m not,” he groans, laps your shoulder without any care for the fabric covering it, then pricks his canines against vulnerable, pulsing skin. You can tell he’s about to lose it when he pops the first button on your shirt, not even paying attention to the way his nails draw across your upper chest. “I’m just…admiring you…there’s nothing wrong with that.”
There’s a whimper melting from his mouth when you press your hand to his chest and push away. Your confidence is quickly rising thanks to the pitiful expression on his face, highlighted by parted, puffy lips and wide violet-pink eyes fogged with hazy lustful clouds.
“I charge by the hour for appearances.”
Rafayel huffs lightly in response. Something about him is different today; something that your experience tells you is due to the rut he fails to explain away. He misses the usual flare he has, the coy seduction that he uses to draw you in. He trades it for brute force, spurred by the mind-numbing need to have this fire in him quenched inside of you as he grips your wrist and forces you closer to him.
“Just send any charges directly to the studio,” he pants out in desperation between sporadic breaths. His voice hitches, forming a short gasp when you grip his chin and focus his sights back on you. He follows so readily at any touch you offer him no matter how rough. Your mind was becoming fuzzy with how much power you have when he’s like this.
“I only take payments in kisses, but I’ll be sure to let Thomas know.”
There’s a moment where his eyes narrow, perhaps in frustration, before they drop and lock on your mouth; specifically, he's memorized by the motion of your tongue glancing across your lips. Rafayel is only consumed with thoughts of how gravely he wants to be the one wetting them despite doing so hundreds of times before. His body wildly craves yours like the months before he was graced with a taste of you, or maybe this yearning is because he knows exactly how it feels to be touched by you as you are now. Rafayel isn't sure which it is anymore, the lines fade and blur, becoming harder to trace by the second. It hurts being this vulnerable, his body uncontrolled by himself, but if you’re his mate then there isn’t anything to fear, at least not this time.
“On second thought, I really should settle my own debts.”
“Are you sure you can afford it?”
“I’ll gladly pay you with interest, darling,” he barely manages to force out in his last single coherent thought. “Now, let me taste you already.”
Rafayel leans closer, aiming for your lips, but is stopped by your nail dragging up the center of his neck, unhindered by the thick gulp he takes to stop his heart from jumping into his throat. You creep your finger up his chin, stopping at the point to force his head up and eyes to lock with yours. The smile on your face is torturous, the look in your eyes out to kill as your lips purse and part to form one simple word,
“Beg.”
The arrogant smirk on your face says you know he will; Rafayel knows he will; anything for a small taste to quench this thirst built in him since eternity for you, but he also knows he’ll have you in his trap instead very soon.
#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#love and deepspace x reader#xavier smut#rafayel smut#zayne fluff#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace fluff#omegaverse#tw:omegaverse#adelssmut#notsfw
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Getting Over Him
Amanda wiped a few tears from her eyes as she looked into the mirror at her puffy eyes and ruined makeup. This was supposed to be a fun weekend trip with friends. But she didn’t want to be just friends with Brad. She had come to love everything about him: his kind personality, his respectfulness, and physically- he was exactly her type. But while Amanda developed feelings for the blond college jock, he never seemed to view her as anything more than a friend. But she always hoped that maybe one day he would.
“I just wish I could get over him.” She mumbled, drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep, barely registering the odd symbols glowing on the wall.
Meanwhile, Brad sat at the edge of his bed, feeling like shit. He replayed the events of that night in his head- Amanda bringing up her feelings and him awkwardly turning her down. Brad massaged his temples. He knew she had feelings for him, and honestly he had feelings for her. But he was hesitant, worried about their friendship.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” He mumbled, stripping off his shirt, pants, and boxers. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, “Could use a good workout.” As he turned towards his bed, he noticed the glowing symbols on the wall around him, “What the fuck...”
He saw them when they first arrived, but didn’t think much of it given it was an older home. Now that they were glowing, his curiosity peaked. As he reached out to touch one, several glowing orbs emerged from the symbol, dancing around the room. Brad yelped in surprise, turning to leave, but suddenly finding he couldn’t move.
“What the hell? Help!” But his words were only a hoarse whisper.
“Is this him?” Brad felt a cold sweat wash over him as he heard the voice.
“Yeah that’s the one!” Another voice cooed.
“I can totally see why she’s into him.” Another voice giggled.
Brad was terrified. Sure the house was old, but haunted? There was no way. He moved his eyes around frantically, eventually landing on his own frozen form in the mirror across from him.
“Hmm but that seems to be the problem!” One of the orbs approached him, “She’s totally into blonds.” Brad watched in shock as the orbs moved through his hair, each blond follicle changing and becoming darker until settling on a dark black. Simultaneously, he involuntarily raised his arms, where a few more of the orbs tickled his pits, the hair there changing too.
“H-how?” Brad strained to ask the simple question.
“Hmm but that won’t be enough!” one of the orbs said, “She loves a clean shaven man.”
Brad recoiled as the orbs began to move across his body. Each area they touched, became increasingly itchy. He grunted in frustration as the itchiness became unbearable. However, the feeling peaked and calmed as hair follicles began to push out from his previously well-shaven body. Tiny black hairs emerged from his chest, shoulders, crotch, arms, and legs. The jock’s face was no exception as the dark hairs emerged, giving him a small beard. His body turned, so that he could see how hairy his ass and back had become. But to his horror, the hair began to thicken, covering him in a thick pelt.
“Almost missed a spot!” Brad raised his arms and the orbs worked on growing out and thickening his pit hair.
Brad felt his frustration building, “Why are you doing this?” He forced out. Brad was happy with his appearance- blond, clean-shaved, muscular- and he knew that women liked it too. He couldn’t be seen like this! And he couldn’t even imagine how long it would take to shave.
“He doesn’t seem to be enjoying it!” A voice whined.
“Don’t worry, we can change that!”
Brad watched as a few of the dancing lights moved towards his cock. He tried to move out of the way, but his resistance faded as they began to massage him, the pleasure causing him to moan. He had never felt anything like it- the sensation as they bobbed up and down on his cock, which had quickly hardened at the sensation. He could barely focus as they continued to dance around him, the jock’s mind consumed with pleasure.
“See! He looks so happy!” The one celebrated as Brad let out another silent moan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His arms moved freely, as he rubbed his hairy chest and massaged his nipples, “See he’s sooooo into it!”
“Let’s focus now! Poor Amanda. Always attracted to guys with big muscles.”
As Brad rubbed his hairy chest, he felt his firm pecs start to soften. As he pushed on them, it felt like they were deflating- losing the definition he had worked so hard to get. The jock forced himself to open his eyes, doing his best to resist the pleasure. He wished he hadn’t. Brad watched as his muscular frame began to shift. His pecs had already deflated, and his abdominal muscles followed, quickly losing definition. His arms were not spared as his biceps and triceps atrophied before his eyes. The jock grunted as he felt his shoulders press in on themselves as his back muscles decayed, leaving him more narrow and lanky.
“Wa-wait, please... stop...” He said between pants. He let out another grunt though as a thin layer of fat began to cover his lanky body, a small paunch protruding from where his abs had been.
“Aww don’t cry Brad.” A voice cooed, “Just focus on the pleasure.” Brad moaned and threw his head back as the pleasure in his dick intensified.
“But while he’s definitely not her type now, there’s always still a chance.” A voice whispered, disapprovingly.
Brad felt a shift in his mind as his sexuality flip- a sudden need for cock down his throat or up his ass invading his thoughts. And as these thoughts became cemented, he felt an inward pulling from his dick. He watched as his manhood shrunk- as it did the pleasure there moved to his ass. He moaned as he grabbed his ass and explored his hole with his fingers.
“Th-this isn’t right!” He huffed, wincing at the higher pitch of his voice. He had never played with his ass like this, yet now he couldn’t help it, the pleasure there dwarfing anything he had experienced from his dick, “Y-you can’t leave me like this!”
“Don’t worry Brady.” A voice whispered in his ear.
Brad was about to respond when he felt an intense pressure in his head. It felt like something was trying to push him out of his own mind.
“Amanda likes him for his kindness and respectfulness.” A voice giggled, “I doubt she’ll care for slutty and judgy!”
The jock became aware of a new set of memories- his time sucking off the football team, the men who bent him over, and the nights he would spend clubbing and partying. He had become a total size queen too, only caring to suck or get fucked by hung men. And as these new interests blossomed, he could sense this new personality pushing him out.
“No stop!” He moaned, “This isn’t real!” He was holding on desperately to his old memories, to who he was.
“We’re doing this for Amanda.” Brad’s eyes widened in confusion, “Just give in to the pleasure.”
Brad moaned, trying to resist. Part of him knew if he gave into the pleasure, it would be over for him. But just as he got closer to climaxing there was a knock on the door. The orbs vanished and the symbols stopped glowing. Brad fell to the ground, huffing, his small cock still rock hard and his ass throbbing with pleasure.
“Fuck.” He whispered, moving his once restrained limbs, “Need to find Amanda.” His thoughts were a mess- his old personality still present, while the new one continued to try and dominate.
The former jock threw on a pair of underwear and opened the door, desperate to find help. However, standing at the door was one of his teammates.
“Shit!” Brad said, again wincing at his voice. Nick looked at him, seemingly confused, “You’ll never believe me man but...” Brad stopped midsentence, his eyes traveling down Nick’s muscular and bare torso. His eyes landed on Nick’s compression shorts, where an evident bulge was growing. He bit his lip- what would it be like to have that python down his throat?
“Oh uh hey man.” Nick replied, the confusion leaving his face, “You’re Amanda’s friend, right? Brady?” Brad felt his heart sink- did Nick not remember him? The concern dissipated though as Brad refocused on the growing bulge in Nick’s pants, “Uh so...” Brad continued to stare at Nick's bulge, “Uh yeah I was wondering if...”
Brad wanted to resist, to push Nick away and find Amanda, but as he stared at the growing snake in Nick’s shorts, he gave in, “I can help you with that.” Nick grinned and without hesitation, pushed Brad back into the room.
The next morning, Amanda woke up and slowly got out of bed. As she entered the hallway, she watched the door to Brad’s room open. She grew confused when a sweaty Nick walk out, a stupid grin on his face.
“What the fuck?” Amanda whispered.
“Oh hey Amanda!” Nick said, blushing, “Uh yeah, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his head, “Uh thanks for bringing Brady.”
Amanda was about to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but Nick quickly darted to his room. She narrowed her eyes and walked over to Brad’s room, intent on finding out what that was all about.
“Hey Brad, what...” Her eyes landed on a man swiping on his phone in Brad’s bed, someone who she didn’t even recognize. But before she could say anything, something clicked in her head. That was Brady, her gay best friend. He had insisted he come along when he saw the guys who would be going. Amanda sighed, this was so typical of him, “So, had fun last night?”
Brady looked up from Grindr and giggled, “Hun, you have no idea.”
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can you do Kenma fic where the reader is getting hit on by some perverted strangers. How would he save the reader? (Reader and him are together) Thank you!!
≪ back to fics masterlist | part 2
kozume kenma x f!reader
a/n: HI ANON tysm for the request!! hope u like ittt (also sorry it took a little more than a week to get this out, been pretty busy at work)
cw: implied (?) college au, drinking/alcohol, mild (justified) violence, coarse language, mentions of sex - lmk if i missed out anything!
"You guys go ahead, 'm gunna go take a break," You half slurred as your friends continued their partying on the dance floor.
You were on a girls' night out with your best friends and you had been drinking and dancing in your heels all night. You stumbled over to the bar a few yards away and took a seat on the nearest barstool.
Strobe lights bathed the stuffy club in various shades of reds, blues and greens as the smell of alcohol mixed with bodily sweat permeated the space. You watched from your seat as all kinds of people squeezed and elbowed their way around one another in the crammed club. There were several others seated along the bar, having drinks and chatting, most of them looking like couples.
Your head was abuzz from all the alcohol you had been drinking, you didn't even remember how much you had had at the point. The live rock band playing onstage and the sheer volume of the crowd chattering didn't really help with the mild headache creeping up on you. You quickly asked for a glass of water and gratefully gulped it down when the bartender slid it over to you with a smile. The feeling of ice cold water gushing down your throat was a stark contrast to the burn of alcohol.
Okay, Y/n, I think that's enough drinking for tonight, you don't wanna throw up all over Kenma when you get home, you thought, closing your eyes and feeling the mild headache you felt earlier slowly return to the depths of hell. Right where it belongs.
You took your phone out from your purse and pressed the shortcut to your "Favourites" contacts, dialling your boyfriend. He picked up almost immediately.
"Hey, sunshine, ready to leave?" Your boyfriend's voice crackled over the phone.
"Hiiii!! Can you come pick me up? Pleeeaaase? I think I'm a lil tipsy…" You yawned, looking into the crowd and straining to hear what Kenma had said over the phone. Your friends were now on the complete opposite end of the dance floor, and you could barely make out the tops of their heads from where you were seated.
"Of course, love. Lemme grab my keys and I'll be right over, yeah? You just hang tight, I'll see you soon. Love you." You heard him chuckle lightly.
"Okay! I love you too!" You half yelled, relieved.
Hanging up, you turned back to your glass of water and downed the rest of it in a matter of seconds. You placed your phone on the table and leaned your head in your hand, taking a quick breather. You didn't normally drink so much, so you weren't exactly used to this amount of alcohol even though it was still within your limits.
Just as you were about to ask for another glass of water, you noticed someone sliding into the seat next to you. Turning to see who it was, you were met with the stench of beer breath and a blonde man that was way too close for comfort.
"The fu-"
"Hey shawty," He started, looking you up and down with a hungry smile. "Think a pretty girl like you can give us her number?" You mentally cringed at the pet name.
“I have a boyfriend,” You said coolly, looking straight ahead.
"So? You can't give us your number 'cause you have a 'boyfriend'?"
Before you could process his statement, you felt two more bodies sidle up on the other side of your seat, also standing unnecessarily close.
"I'll make you feel good tonight, babygirl. Way better than your boyfriend," The second man said. He was bigger than the first and had a tattoo snaking up the length of his arm. His pudgy hands reached out to grab your arm before you swatted him away. You tried to stand up and leave but the third guy blocked your path from behind, forcing you to sit back down in your seat so you wouldn't faceplant into his chest.
"We can go to my place, I promise it'll be fun," The third man said, tilting his head to the side as he surveyed you. The coloured lights reflected off his septum and lip piercings as he spoke.
You whipped your head around in an attempt to find your friends for help but Vodka Blondie grabbed your chin and turned your attention back to them.
"Nuh-uh. None of that, sweetheart. Eyes on me," He drawled.
"Get away from me," You managed to choke out, harshly slapping his hand away.
"Ah, so she's a feisty one," Tatted Arm hummed.
"Come on, doll, just give us your number. Easy," Vodka Blondie said, annoyance creeping into his voice.
"Why would I give you my number, dickhead? You look like Walmart Shrek," You muttered, glaring at each of them in turn. Your filter had been ripped out, crushed and flushed down the drain at that point. You didn't care if you were offending these guys, you just wanted to leave.
Internally, you were panicking and thinking of how to get yourself out of this situation. Your heart beat erratically in your chest as your brain went into overdrive looking for exit options. The worst part was that the place was packed but no one seemed to notice what was happening.
Where are my friends? Where is Kenma?
"Bitch, you should be thankful I even tried to get your number, do you know how many girls I've fucked on campus?" Vodka Blondie sputtered, clearly insulted.
Oh, what a fragile thing, the male ego.
"So you admit you're a manwhore, got it," You rolled your eyes.
"It's twenty girls, by the way," He continued, bragging.
"Oookay, sex-addict. Since none of those twenty girls bothered to stay, maybe you should try guys instead," You spat, disgust clearly written on your face. You reached for your phone still lying on the table but in your tipsy state, you weren't fast enough and Tatted Man slid it out of your reach.
"You motherfu-" You gritted out under your breath.
Piercings grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him. His face was now inches from yours and his beer breath was nauseating. "I'll treat you like a princess in bed, babygirl, you just gotta sit there, look pretty and take it all in," He said, as flecks of spit flew out of his mouth and landed on your face.
Disgusted out of your mind, you snapped, "DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND! Even then, with a face not even your mom can stand, what on earth makes you think I would want to fuck you?" Without waiting for a response, you grabbed the purse in your lap and shoved him out of your way, making a run for it.
Unfortunately, your heel got caught on part of the carpet that had lifted and you tripped before you could get away. Piercings grabbed you by the waist just before you hit the ground, and to passers-by, it probably looked like he was holding up a super drunk female friend. It couldn't be further from the truth. He sat you back down on the barstool and you growled in frustration.
"And what on earth makes you think you can get away from us, princess?" Piercings mocked. You threw him a pulverising glare.
"Only my boyfriend gets to call me 'Princess'-"
"Who the fuck do you think you're calling 'Princess'?"
Looking up, you saw a five foot seven figure looming behind the pierced man in front of you. Dressed in a black hoodie, grey joggers, sneakers and a black cap, it took you a moment to realise that the man with dyed hair akin to pudding was your beloved boyfriend.
"Oh? And who's this?" Piercings spun to face Kenma, a condescending smirk on his (very punchable) face.
"Kenma-" You gasped.
"Her boyfriend," Kenma deadpanned. His posture was nonchalant, shoulders slightly hunched with his hands in his pockets, staring down the man in front of him. It didn't seem to bother him that the three men who were bothering you were at least five inches taller than him.
"Huh. Well, nice to meet you, boyfriend, but she's comin' home with me tonight. Good try though," Piercings smiled, moving to put his arm around your shoulder.
"What the fu-" You let out, dodging just as Kenma's hand shot out to block the pierced man's arm. The latter rolled his eyes.
"Fuck off before I report you for sexual harassment," Kenma growled, slowly losing his patience as these guys tried to lay their hands you right in front of him.
"Aww, the twink must be scared to fight me for this little girlfriend-"
He didn't manage to finish his sentence before he got socked in the jaw, neck snapping to the side and slumping to the ground in front of you. The other two beside you stared at him wide-eyed, frozen.
Kenma had rolled up his sleeves, revealing a toned forearm with thick veins running down the length of it. You saw him subtly rubbing his knuckles as he watched Piercings slowly push himself off the floor. Blinking, he looked up to see Kenma bending down toward him with a murderous look in his eyes.
"I said, fuck off."
Without another word, Kenma scooped you up along with your belongings and carried you out of the club, towards his car. Before you left, you heard two of the guys about to give chase before the third said, loud enough for you to hear, "Forget it, she's not worth it."
As you exited the club, you heard your boyfriend muttering angrily under his breath. Still tipsy, you weren't paying much attention to what he was saying, but you caught onto once sentence in particular.
"She's worth everything."
a/n: i've never been to a club before so i hope this is semi accurate at least HAHAHA if you saw any errors... no you didn't. thanks for reading!
© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!
#educated.simps#haikyuu x reader#lyssa.writes#simps.write#yves.writes#haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#kenma x reader#kozume kenma#kenma kozume#haikyuu kozume#haikyuu kenma#kenma fluff#kenma angst#hq kenma
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The toji eating out reader was HELLA good😍 maybe you could do one for gojo? Please?
EAT IT TILL I FAINT! | satoru gojo
☆ — pairing: satoru gojo x black!chubby!fem!reader
☆ — contents: nsfw, oral (f receiving), pussyeater!gojo, daddy kink, blindfold, dirty talking, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, fingering, multiple orgasms, face-sitting, just the usual filth
☆ — notes: reader is female and she is black. i wrote this with a black reader in mind. reader's pronouns are she/her. this shit is gonna be like a water park so get your floaties ready. title came from megan thee stallion's "eat it" which i was listening to while writing this lmao
You and Satoru had been dating for several months before he wanted to officially make you his girlfriend. The chemistry you two had was strong and Satoru knew you were the one for him. You were a gorgeous woman, a thick and chubby one at that, and you didn't shy away from wearing clothes that would show off your figure. Satoru liked to see you in body hugging dresses, specifically short ones to show off your thighs, and in denim shorts that had the roundness of your ass looking phenomenal. He couldn't resist the temptation of squeezing your ass or groping your thighs whenever you two are out in public or even at home.
While you and Satoru had already had sex around a month into dating, one thing that Satoru hadn't done for you was eat you out. He wanted for you to experience it, however you would decline his efforts and just get him to finger you instead. So when one night after you came out of the shower fresh and clean, ready to go to bed, he popped with the question.
"Why won't you let me eat your pussy?"
You visibly flinched when he asked, but answered anyways, "Because I just don't want for you to do that Satoru."
He moved from laying down on his stomach to kneeling on the bed. Satoru's hands rest on your knees when he pushes his body between your plump thighs and then blurts out, "Have you ever had your pussy eaten out before?" His piercing ocean blue eyes locked on your deep brown ones.
Your eyes look away from his stare, and like a child cornered by their parent you whisper, "Well... no... but-"
Satoru abruptly interjects you from continuing, sassily sucking his teeth, "Tch. You can't just tell me 'no' because you've never had your pussy ate before, baby. You gotta try new things to see if you'll like it instead of outright saying 'no'."
You were about to argue with him, but Satoru stuns you by pressing his lips to yours. You could taste the faint linger of candied oranges on his lips. It was a reflex for you to kiss him back, parting your pillowy lips and curl your fingers to the undercut. He mutters a husky, "fuck" before he's ravishing your mouth. Your boyfriend's tongue slid into your mouth and began to explore your cavern with vivid familiarity.
In the midst of a break, when your lips are away from each other and you are just gasping the other's air, you breathily asked, "Satoru what are you doing?"
He briefly pecks your lips after you asked the question. Then he answers panting, "I'm, ha, going to show you how it feels." Satoru kisses your plump lips chastely and then reaches his hand in between your fleshy things.
His fingers stroke your puffy folds through the thin layer of panties you're wearing. There's a wetness forming underneath the fabric and Satoru feels his cock straining in his pants. You get excited so easy, from things as simple as a kiss from him. He runs his fingers up and down your dampening cunt listening to you let out soft gasps and sweet moans. You grind your hips towards his hand as you pull him in closer for a deeper kiss. Satoru hooks his fingers on your panties and pulls them to the side, anchoring the string on the cleft of your fat pussy. The cold air that blows on your slick pussy causes you to shudder and hiss from it.
"Satoruuuu... fuck...." you moan out.
The white-haired man puts two fingers inside of your tight pussy at once and it stings from the stretch of it. You whimper on your lover's lips when his slender digits rapidly pump your entrance. Satoru's teeth gnaws on your bottom lip, then tugs on the plump appendage until he lets go of it wetly. He looks into your glossy brown eyes as he fucks his fingers, curling them upwards and stimulating your sweet spot with them.
A gasp is pulled out of you when you feel the tips of them touching your spot. You vigorously roll your hips forward to his fingers and toss your head back as you whine out his name. "Satoruuu.. baby you're gonna make me- c-cum!" Your toes curl on the bed, and your legs begin to tremble as he speeds up and savagely stimulates your sweet spot. You threw your head forward and look down at his two slender fingers, disappearing and reappearing into your heat. Your stomach tightens into a knot as you watch the action go. Satoru's forehead presses against yours as his ocean blue eyes stare at your erotic pleasure-filed faces. He pushes his fingers in deeper, doesn't move them but instead wiggles it against your sweet spot. His thumb flicking at your clit when he does so. At these actions, you frantically kick your legs onto the bed and whimper hysterically, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru! Sato-Satoruuuu!" You let out a scream when you cum all over his fingers. Your cunt spasms around them and slick covers the long pale digits.
"Mhm, mhm, that's a good girl." Satoru plants a gentle kiss to your sweet lips. He murmurs approvingly, "That's a good girl." He pecks your lips again then he asks, "Now would you let me have a taste?"
You release a shaky breath, but you nod your head to his request. "It was how you found your body positioned over Satoru's face. Your pussy above his mouth, and he was laying there on his back just waiting for you to sit down on his lips. His large gentle hands were stroking your hips as you were still uncomfortable with doing something like this to Satoru.
He could sense your hesitation, which is the reason he asked, "Are you okay baby?"
You shake your head and your thighs quiver. You reply to him, "I'm scared I might suffocate you Satoru."
"Tch, baby you won't hurt me. Listen... if you turn out to like it a lot, you can ride my face." He rests a hand on your thick thigh, caressing your smooth skin in circles. Satoru watches as your eyes shift over to the nightstand where his blindfold is at then look down at him. "What's wrong pretty girl?"
You don't respond to him; you lean over and reach to grab his blindfold and play with it in your hand. Your brown eyes glance at his, every second before you finally gave in.
"I want for you to wear this, w-while I'm doing it... please?" The last word comes out in a squeak, and Satoru finds it adorable.
He affectionately smiles as he carefully takes the blindfold out from your grasp and puts it around his head. His sight is immediately black, and he couldn't see you anymore, though he could feel you still hovering above him. The taste of your pussy is just inches away from his lips. Satoru swallows in anticipation of it, and licks his suddenly dry lips with his tongue. The tightness in his pants is painful, though not as painful as waiting for you to sit on his face.
You inhale sharply, then exhale. "Okay," you mutter to yourself, "I'm about to lower myself down o-on your mouth Satoru." You shut your eyes and look up at the ceiling as you slowly drop your pussy down onto your boyfriend's mouth. "J-Just please b-be gentle- hm!" You jolt when you feel his tongue lap at your slit languidly. "Satoru, ha, be gentle, please!"
Satoru's hands firmly grasp your round ass and yank you closer to his mouth. The first swipe of his tongue tasting your delicious nectar drove him insane. He was sucking on your fat folds, and rubbing them together with his lips. He lets them go with a wet smack before repeating the action again and again, until your slick is drenching his lips. Your back arches forward and your hand reaches down in between your thighs to tug on Satoru's hair.
"Ahh! Satoru, fuck! Oh my god!" You cry out and look down at the blindfolded male in a sensual awe, "W-What are you do-ING!" You squeak when he slithers his tongue inside of your heat and was wiggling the appendage around. You choke on a moan, clenching your pussy around his tongue as your slick covered his reddened face. "Satoru! Oh, Satoruu!"
He gave your ass a hard smack while he fucked his tongue inside of your gummy walls. Your body twitches upon hearing the "mwahs" of Satoru kissing your pussy, and the sounds of his spitting on it before he eats you out like you were his last meal. Your mouth goes slack and you tighten your grip in his hair. "D-Daddyyyy!" You whine out, rocking your hips against his tongue. "Daddy you're gonna make me cum again! Hm!"
Satoru slid his tongue into your entrance and moved his face close enough for his nose to be rubbing against your clit. He shook his head side to side and the intense wriggling of his head brought you to your next orgasm. Your stomach felt tight for a moment until you released all over Satoru's handsome face. Your essence squirting out in a stream and dampening the blindfold he was wearing. You were writhing throughout it, and wailing out his name in high-pitched moans.
"Satoru! Satoru! Satoru!"
"Hah.. hah.. oh fuck, god you taste so good baby." He compliments, then reaches his hand up to pull the blindfold off of his eyes. You looked down and observed his current state. He was panting heavily underneath you; his white hair sticking to his forehead and a thin sheen of your slick covering half of his face. You wanted to cum again by the erotic sight of him. "Think you can go a few more times?" His mouth kisses you tenderly on your inner thigh. "Mwah, can you give me some more baby?"
"Yes daddy, fuck daddy, can I-" You wanted to ask if you could sit on his face again, but you got shy.
Satoru licks your brown skin and gingerly kisses it. "Hmm... you don't have to ask to take a seat baby. Just go ahead and sit down." He lays his head down on the pillow whilst his hands are caressing your fleshy thighs. He rasps, "Sit on daddy's face baby."
You couldn't explain why that unlocked something within you. All you could do was grasp Satoru by his hair and promptly sit your pussy down on his face. Your dazed eyes looking into his own as he was devouring your pussy nastily. You whimpered when his mouth was sucking on your clit and alternating with quick flickers of his tongue. A gasp shoots through your mouth, and you bite down on your bottom lip still maintaining the eye contact. Satoru hums against your throbbing nub, wrapping his arms over you thighs and narrowing his blue orbs up at you.
Your hips gently rock forward and you desperately mewl, "Daddy your t-tongue! Fuck, keep doing w-what you're doing with it!" You squeal when you feel his fingers suddenly slide into your entrance and pump fervidly in your slick walls. A strangled noise comes out of you, and you let go of his hair to lean over the headboard and twist your hips agitatedly. "Hm! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuCK!" you feel the room shatter as your pussy spasms around his fingers. You cover your mouth with your hand as tears fall down your cheeks and you squirt all over Satoru's face again. "Hmm! Hm! Mm!"
Satoru presses his fingers flat against your sweet spot, and the action causes you to hiss and snarl at him. "Fuuuck! Oh fuck Daddy you're so fucking good for me!" Your voice then breaks down into a whimper, "Pl-Please don't fucking stop!" You go on to ramble about how good he is, and not to stop while he pushes your body off of him and lays you gently on your back.
"Oh, please Daddy, fuck," You babble, your legs trembling and shaky hands wrapping around Satoru's broad shoulders as you lower him down for a filthy, tongue kiss. He is just as drunk off of you as you are him. The kiss is literally just his tongue lazily lapping at yours breathing in your oxygen. Soft moans passing in between quick breaths.
His hand goes in between your thighs and he draws quick circles on your puffy clit. You squeeze one eye shut, and arch your back while squirming and whimpering. Your chubby wet pussy is so obnoxiously loud with the noises it makes. The squelches are raunchy.
Satoru is speaking in a rushed, soft tone as he rubs on your clit. "It feels good when I eat it yeah?" You nod your head and hum in approval. "I know it feels good baby." Satoru kisses you intensely before plucking his lips away. "Now lay back beautiful... Daddy's not done with his dessert."
You lay down on your back, and Satoru asks for you to hold your legs up to your shoulders. Your knees are pressed against your chest and his head is in between your thighs. You wiggle your hips towards his mouth, biting down on the corner of your lip as you do so. Satoru smirks at your newfound interest. He spreads your puffy folds apart and sticks out his long pink tongue. You arch your back up from the bed, and your toes curl when his appendage slithers into your slick abused walls with little resistance. You could see stars in your vision and your brown eyes go cross as you're fucked into another state of ecstasy.
"Haahhhhh~ Sato- ruuuuu~" You coo out.
He goes to town on your swollen cunt. Satoru's tongue is like magic as it works its way back and forth in your gummy hole. You're babbling out words, "Yes Daddy," "Don't stop," "Oh god," and letting out cute little squeaks. He slides his tongue out after collecting some of your cum on it then spits it back onto your throbbing clit. He slurps on your hardened nub along with putting three fingers into your heat. He dives them inside and curls them upwards against your sweet spot.
Satoru grinds his erection against the bed, humping it while he eats you out. A low moan courses through his mouth at the friction he receives. The white-haired male's eyes roll into the back of his head as he jerks his hips forward and promptly cums inside of his pants. He feels his hot cum drench his underwear and smearing inside of it. After he cums, Satoru moans onto your nub. He pops his glossy lips off of your clit. His fingers quicken their speed.
"That's a good girl baby, good fucking girl. I'm gonna spell my name on this nice sweet pussy. Hmm, fuck, I don't think I can get enough of it."
Your stomach tightens up, and another crash of lightning overwhelms you. Satoru howls, "Yes baby! Yes baby! Give it to me! Give it to me!" Your body violently trembles on the bed when you squirt for him one last time. He laps up the streams that you put out with his tongue. Satoru, then, suckles on your drooping wet folds, giving them twirls of his tongue and gentle nibbles of his teeth. "So good." His tender lips kiss your clit then goes to suckle on the overly sensitive nub. Satoru lets out heavy pants after sucking on your clit until he's diving his head back on it for more.
"Ugh, ahh, D-Daddy... fuck, hell Daddy... too much! T-Too muc-AHHH!!" You're startled when you briefly go through a dry spell of an orgasm and your cunt spasms.
Satoru finally releases his mouth from your pussy and he backs his head away from it to assess the damage. Damn your pussy looked fucked out. Your folds were glistening from your cum, and Satoru's spit. Your hole was fluttering as it was softening up from the torment he put it through. Then your clit was perky and swollen from him sucking on it like a straw.
Your boyfriend lifted his head up to you, his pretty brown and chubby girlfriend, then crawls on top of your body. He kisses you sweetly on your lips, letting you have another taste of your own cum. You lazily return the kiss, and let your legs go limp at his sides. Satoru swallows down your soft pleasured sighs. His right hand grope at your fleshy waist and left one rubs on your round breast. His index and thumb pinching at your nipple.
"Thank you, mwah, baby for giving me a chance." Satoru then looks you in the eye, "That didn't feel too bad now did it?"
You shake your head, smiling contently, "N-No... it felt really good. I-I didn't know I was going to like it that m-much."
He chuckles and lightly squeezes your breast, "Next time, now you know not to say 'no' to something you haven't experienced yet. Silly." He playfully flicks your nose and lovingly pecks the pout that shows on your lips. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You're just too cute baby."
"You are r-right though... hmph... can we take a clean up Da- Satoru?" You almost let the term you called him earlier slip out.
Satoru grins and pretends he didn't caught on to that, but agrees to your request. "Yes we can clean up baby."
☆ — notes: ....i think i just came while writing this.... lmk what you think of this. reblog pls!
© demiesworld. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on any other platforms without my permission.
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x black reader#gojo x black y/n#gojo x chubby reader#satoru x black reader#satoru x chubby reader#gojo x reader
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Happy Pride! Could you do more of the fem mxy!wwx identity porn? I hope you have a great day 🌻
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42
Jiang Yanli sees the Lan party approaching and cant help the spike of anxiety that shoots through her.
First is Lan Xichen and A-Yao, who greet Madame Jin and Jin Guangshan formally and respectfully, without a hint of resentment for what they've put them through, for allowing them to arrange this alliance only to yank the promised marriage out from under them.
She knows better than to think there isn't any, but their serene expressions give nothing away. Lan Xichen's amiable mask hides a warm, peaceable center. A-Yao's hides a bitterness and cleverness so great that to this day she thinks it a tragedy that A-Yao hadn't grown up among the Yu.
They make look similar on the surface, but Lan Xichen and A-Yao’s relationship is proof that opposites really do attract.
A-Yao says something that causes Madame Jin’s face to tighten. Then they’re stepping back and Lan Wangji is stepping forward, but he’s not the one she cares about.
Xuanyu stands by his side, back straight and eyes forward, seemingly comfortable and at ease with Lan Wangji in a way that few people manage. Her expression when she faces her father is strained, but she stands close enough to Lan Wangji that their sleeves threaten to tangle together, so she assumes that strain is all that to Jin Guangshan and not Xuanyu’s husband.
“I told you she’s be fine,” Zixuan murmurs.
She wishes they were somewhere less public where she could get away with elbowing him in the ribs or at least stepping on his foot.
“Yanli-jie!” Xuanyu is waving at her, bounding forward without a thought to propriety. Both Lan Wangji and A-Yao are exasperated while Lan Xichen just seems outright fond, which is even more a balm to her worry than Xuanyu’s hopefully good relationship with her husband. A sect leader’s affection is nothing to sniff at, and even if Lan Wangji has little use for his bride, he would not upset his brother by treating someone he’s fond of callously.
“Meimei,” she returns and watches Xuanyu’s grins stretch to almost painful levels as the young woman reaches out to grab her hands. Xuanyu had felt so cold to the touch before, but now her hands are warm, and with several new callouses. She looks stronger too, thicker around the waist and the flesh of her cheeks, and it’s a relief to see her strengthened in both body and spirit.
Her grin eases and she becomes subdued as she inclines her head to Zixuan. “Jin Zixuan.”
He returns it, eyeing her speculatively, but it’s not a surprise. Jiang Yanli’s not sure if the two of them have ever had a real conversation.
“I brought some extra guests,” Xuanyu says. “Sorry.”
She gestures behind her and Jiang Yanli follows her hand and then blinks rabidly, but the vision in front of her doesn’t change. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen stand there, along with a blind girl that she doesn’t remember seeing before. “It’s not a problem, Meimei. You’ll have to tell me that story of how they came to join you.”
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, looking down at Xuanyu who pointedly ignores his gaze. That makes Jiang Yanli nervous, but it doesn’t seem to be tinged with any true animosity. She’s more than familiar what that looks like on Lan Wangji.
“It was uh – recent. So recent that I’m in need of a proper bath and a new set of robes, actually.” She leans in to whisper, loudly enough that they can all hear her just fine, “I switched out my over robe for something less damaged and bloodstained.”
Lan Wangji sighs deeply. Xuanyu rolls her eyes, which seems like a good sign.
“Oh dear,” Jiang Yanli says, affecting wide eyes and a gentle concern that’s only a little fake. For a moment, a smirk steals across Xuanyu’s face before she smooths it out again, which nearly distracts Jiang Yanli from her play here. Not even A-Yao had picked up on her act the first time she used to it. “That sounds so harrowing and awful. Please, let me escort you to my rooms – you can use my bath and I can help you with your hair. We are sisters, after all.”
“Of course, Yanli-jie,” she says, eyes bright with humor. It’s refreshing to do this with someone who’s in on the joke from the beginning and isn’t A-Cheng. “That’s so kind of you, how can I possibly refuse?”
Both of their husbands look put out as they walk away together, arm in arm. Maybe this will finally give Zixuan and Lan Wangji something to talk about.
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The prompt
“Hey, don’t throw that red bow away! It has a double use.” “Like what?” “Maybe you should use it to tie me to the bed instead, yeah? It’s long enough.”
but.... it's Fred saying to the reader 😀 JKKKKK
❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️
Warnings: smut, a few curse words
Prompts courtesy of @dumplingsjinson
18+ only
Red Velvet
Y/N used her wand to clean up the mess of wrapping paper and boxes, watching as the items floated gracefully through the air and into the trash bin. Suddenly, Fred jumped up, grabbing a velvety red bow as it passed over his head.
"Hey, don’t throw that red bow away! It has a double use," he grinned.
Y/N turned to look at him, eyebrows drawn together. "Like what?"
Fred's eyes twinkled, and his grin grew even wider, "Maybe you should use it to tie me to the bed instead, yeah? It’s long enough."
"Tie you up, huh?" She bit her bottom lip and grinned.
~•~
Y/N hovered over him and loosened her hair, letting it cascade down. Only then did she lean down to place a line of kisses along the line of his jaw, then down his neck, slowly working her way down his body. Her hair trailed behind her, raising goosebumps on his skin.
A soft groan escaped his lips when she grazed his nipple with her teeth. She looked up and grinned, then continued her slow journey down the length of his body. Stopping to give his rock-hard cock a teasing lick from base to tip, causing him to buck his hips with a soft whimper, before moving down to tease his balls, taking one in her mouth, gently sucking and rolling her tongue around it. Then, moving to the other and doing the same drawing out even more desperate whimpers.
"Fuck," he groaned in frustration.
"All in good time, my love, all in good time," she winked and moved back up, taking his cock in hand, to swirl her tongue around the tip. Fred pulled against his restraints as he tried in vain to push more of himself inside her mouth. But she was straddled across his legs, preventing him from moving.
"You're killing me, woman." Fred writhed beneath her.
"Regretting your decision?" She said, now teasing his tip with her thumb.
"Getting there," he groaned.
Y/N giggled. "Perhaps I should end your torment, then?"
Once again, Fred tried to thrust upward into her hand and once again failed. "Please..." He begged.
With a grin, she shifted to angle herself perfectly above twitching cock, before sheathing him slowly, bit by inscruitating bit and drawing a loud, obscene moan from her husband that went straight to her pussy.
"Oooh, Merry Christmas to me," she teased, raising up and slamming back down onto him.
"Something... resembling... speed," he groaned.
Y/N gave him a wicked smile, continuing her slow torture for several seconds longer before picking up the pace. She'd never seen Fred go this feral. Every inch of him writhed beneath her, straining against his bonds and uttering the hottest fucking moans she'd ever heard coming out of his mouth.
Within minutes, Fred groaned out an earth shattering "FUCK" and fell apart under her, filling her to the brim and bringing her over the edge with him.
~•~
"Damn... that was amazing," Fred chuckled after a few minutes.
"Wanna try it again sometime?" Y/N asked while she untied the last bow
"Oh yeah, definitely," he grinned, shifting on top of her and pinning her down. "But now it's your turn," he winked and began tying her down.
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920
#fred weasley#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut
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"Skin to Skin" - Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader (sfw)
Summary: There’s something about him that makes her think that perhaps he needs to know she’s real.
Word Count: 2000+
Warnings: slight angst, nudity, cuddling, kissing, pillow talk, mentions of past trauma, fluff all around
a/n: not proofread. I had problems with writing this, almost like I couldn't "get mind in the game" so I apologize if it feels ooc or anything like that. I did try to keep it the way I had envisioned it but I don't know, maybe I didn't. Oh well, it's whatever I guess.
Btw Commissions are open for anyone whose interested.
Main Masterlist
As a member of 141, danger is one of the things she had become accustomed to and with that comes predictability. Yes every situation was different but somehow those different situations would end with the same conclusion so in that respect, Y/N supposes she may have accidentally grown complacent.
Most missions were: research the target, then locate the target, infiltrate, and so on. It was second nature at this point, no need to even contemplate her actions as she would carry out her orders.
However this time, the situation got a little dicey.
It really wasn’t anyone's fault, in fact Y/N blamed herself for not noticing the guard that had managed to seek right into her blindspot and before she knew she was aggressively tussling with the man. No surprise he was stronger than her, so when he wrapped his arms around her waist in the middle of their fight and tossed her like a ragdoll, it was almost to be expected. What she didn’t account for was his speed for as soon as she picked herself up off the ground, he was already charging her.
Reacting quickly, Y/N brought her legs up and pushed the man back with all her might right as the man closed the distance.
He fell back with a thud on the concrete floor, uttering what Y/N assumed to be a curse in a language she didn’t understand. They’re fight continued for several more seconds, Y/N landing several blows to his face and she nearly dodging each attack, and in his growing frustration, the man got in close once more. Y/N didn’t see it but she felt it, the white hot searing pain resonating in her thigh. She let out a pain filled scream, echoing through the enemy compound.
Ghost had been clearing another part of the building when he’d heard her causing his blood to run cold, the image of her lifeless body flashing in his mind. He rushed out of the room, pushing himself to sprint as fast as he was capable of.
It took less than a minute for him to turn the corner to where she was, and his eyes were quick to adjust to what he was seeing; Y/N straddling the man, her knife dug deep into his throat. He could tell that she was breathing heavily, her torso expanding in and out as her lungs attempted to gain as much air as possible.
“Sergeant.” Was all Ghost could think of to say. That seemed to grab Y/N’s attention anyhow because she whipped her head around to see his towering figure. Her eyes were manic from the adrenaline of fighting against someone twice her size.
Ghost took a breath then took two giant steps forward, hands finding her shoulders to guide her away from the body. In the middle of pulling Y/N to her feet, she let out a strained whimper causing Ghost to freeze.
“What is it?” He asked, voice hushed and gravelly low.
She gestured to her right thigh, “My leg…”
He glanced down, keeping an arm pressed to her back. Easily he was able to see the blood seeping from the wound; from his upright angle alone he saw the wound wasn’t too deep but it still needed medical attention.
“Here, hold onto my shoulder; I’m gonna wrap this up.” Ghost didn’t give her a moment to respond as he already leaned down to tie a bandage around her bleeding leg.
She let out a closed mouthed moan when Ghost tightened the bandage though otherwise was okay. He stood back up to his full height and helped Y/N out of the building.
Luckily, the rest of the mission was completed without any more incidents. Y/N had initially been worried that her scuffle with the guard made the situation more precarious, however Price reassured that nobody else in the facility had been alarmed. After that they left; the team huddled up in their helicopter.
Things seemed normal until they got back to the compound; Ghost had escorted Y/N to the medical bay to treat her injury but shortly after arriving, he curtly excused himself. Y/N was a bit surprised that he just left. She thought he might’ve stayed to hear how critical her injury may have been. It really wasn’t that bad, of course the initial stab was what hurt the most, other than that the almost burning ache is what remained.
From that day forward, Ghost had been acting strange. Stranger than normal.
It was no secret that the soldier known as Ghost was an eccentric person to say the least, but this seemed different. For one Ghost kept his distance from Y/N, not ignoring her but definitely avoidant of certain interactions with her. One day she asked about this sudden change, seeing as how they were in a relationship.
“What’s wrong?” She’d asked, sitting in front of him on her bed.
It took a few minutes before he came up with the right words. “For just a moment I thought you…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence for her to know what he meant.
I thought you were dead.
Y/N made sure to give him his space, let him process what happened and deal with the fear that he could very well have entered the room only to see her dead body. And this went on for days, weeks and eventually she started to wonder if he’d gotten lost in his head.
Her leg was well healed now and nothing changed. She missed him.
“Ghost?” Y/N said, hand barely tapping his shoulder for his attention. He turned, dark, expressive eyes visible from the underneath skull mask. “Can you meet me in my room later tonight? When you have the time, of course.”
She watched his eyes dart away from her for a second, clearly thinking it over before he looked back to her, a subtle nod being his answer.
“Thank you.” She gently whispered to him as if she were attempting to sooth him from an unseen turmoil.
Around 9 that night Y/N heard a knock at her door, and knowing it was Ghost she called for him to come in. He was still decked out in his full tactical gear with his mask while Y/N had long taken off her vest and weapons, leaving her in her standard uniform pants and t-shirt.
“Did you want to talk?” Ghost asked lowly as he closed the door behind him.
She shook her head. “No, I just wanted to see you. And I thought maybe we could lay down for a while, seeing as how we won’t be up and at’em for a while.”
He stood silent, again, contemplating the best decision when Y/N broke the quiet air. “If you want to, I’m not gonna force it on you. I thought maybe we could spend some time together is all.”
“That sounds nice.” Ghost replied, already beginning to take off his tactical gear and setting it off to the side.
Y/N began to take off her boots, placing them neatly off to the side then stood at full height to pull back the blanket from the not so big bed. In the middle of doing so, Y/N paused, the fabric of the blanket crinkled in her palm as she stared at a random place on the bed.
At that moment, she came up with an idea; an idea that might break the distance Ghost had been building between as of late.
“Simon, can I ask you something?” She spoke, raising her eyes to look up from the bed.
Now he had taken off all his gear including his mask, leaving him in the same uniform as Y/N not to mention the black like dust circling his eyes. She had to take a second to admire him as he was always wearing his mask. He didn't like to admit it nor would he ever but she thought he was absolutely handsome; a pillar of a man who had suffered in his life that still knew how to extend gentleness and kindness to others just as he’d done for her.
She loved him so much.
Ghost simply stared at her, promptly Y/N to continue on with her question.
“Uh…this might sound a bit odd, but would you be okay with undressing before we lay down?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Ghost’s muscles immediately tensed.
Y/N knew what he was thinking so she made the quick decision to ease his concern. “I don’t mean anything sexual by it, please understand that.”
She paused, to give Ghost time to take in what she was saying. “I’ve noticed that you’ve kind of been lost in your head, distancing yourself, and I let you have your space since I don’t want to overwhelm you or pressure you to talk to me. But I miss you.”
“I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Ghost started, however Y/N shook her head, taking several quick steps to him to gently grasp his ungloved hands in her smaller ones.
“No, don’t apologize, let’s just lay down okay? Relax for a bit.” She suggested, gaining enough courage to smile.
He gave her a semi smile, flashing so fast one would barely notice he even smiled in the first place.
With that, Y/N stepped back almost to where she was standing previously and lifted her shirt over her head to toss to the floor. Then she unbuckled the belt wrapped around her waist, removed it from the pants loops and took her pants over quickly after that. She spared a glance to Ghost who had mirrored her actions to undress himself. He already took off his boots and shirt, and now worked on getting his belt off. Soon Y/N stripped down to only her underwear and crawled under the blanket, looking up at Ghost as he finished undressing. Much like Y/N, Ghost stripped down to everything except his boxers, the moment he did Y/N extended her arms out to him to join her.
Ghost took a steadying breath before leaning down and slipped under Y/N’s blanket, instantly feeling her hands caress the skin of his shoulders as she brought him to lay against her chest. She adjusted herself until they had complete skin to skin contact, a comforting warmth transferring from one patch of skin to the other and soon a contented sigh leaving her lips. And when Ghost laid his head fully onto her chest, feeling her fingers massaging the base of his skull, her other hand tracing invisible patterns against his back, he too felt content.
“How do you feel?” Y/N probed while continuing to tread her fingers through his short locks.
“Good.” He simply answered, eyes staring off into nothing in particular.
Y/N couldn’t help but to smile. “I’m glad. Though if you get uncomfortable, tell me and we can stop this.”
She felt him nod. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I don’t think I’ll want to go anywhere any time soon.”
“I think we’re on the same page with that. Love feeling you so close.” She cooed, pressing herself as close as humanly possible.
Ghost began to rub his hands along the skin of the side up to her shoulder, enjoying the softness. “Me too, I’m not…used to this.”
Y/N pulled back enough to peer down at the entirety of his face. “I know, but if you want we could make this a regular thing?”
“That sounds good to me.”
Y/N leaned down to plant a soft kiss to his lips and he reciprocated in kind, nothing too fast or rough; it was perfect. Their lips moved in sync, burning from the heat of each other intertwining together in an intimate dance. When necessary, the separated; lips creating a wet smacking sound as they did so.
The two stared into the other’s eyes, taking in every detail their face had to offer like they’d never see it again.
“I was scared.” Ghost suddenly admitted, his voice hushed.
Y/N nodded. “I know, and it’s okay. I’m here now, and hell will freeze over before I leave you.”
This time, Ghost scoffed in amusement. “I don’t doubt that. You’re more stubborn than anyone else I know.”
“Oh yeah? Well I suppose I learn from the best.” She joked with a laugh.
Ghost dipped his face back to rest between Y/N’s chest and neck, taking a deep inhale of her sweet, natural scent. They remained in comfortable silence, listening quietly to the sound of the nightly crickets and each other’s hearts beating steadily.
“I love you.” He uttered into the quiet room, noticing Y/N kiss the side of his temple.
“I know, and I love you too.”
#mw2#call of duty#call of duty mw2#task force 141#mw2 fanfic#mw2 x reader#mw2 ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader#modern warfare 2#mw2 oneshot#cod x reader#cod one shot#mw2 angst#mw2 fluff#mw2 smut
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Stella was a delivery woman. Her doctor told her take a maternity leave already and yet here she was, still delivering parcels. She needed that money really bad for her unborn baby. She knew her due date is coming in 5 days but she just couldn't stop working. Although her pregnancy was a singleton, the baby was measuring 12 lbs and her belly looked huge. Everyone asked her if she was carrying multiples. Her belly sat so close to the steering wheel whenever she was driving. If her car were to be rare-bumped, her stomach was definitely gonna be slammed into the steering wheel. Since it was the delivery job, she needed to carry all sorts of packages, light or heavy alike. She prayed everyday that packaged be smalland light because it was very hard to lift big and heavy things with a heavily pregnant belly. It was a struggle to even bend down. But people on her route were very fascinated by her struggles like her lifting boxes up, waddling, going up the stairs, rubbing her back and her belly with an arched back when coming back down. It was just so fascinating to watch. So the whole route started to order more and more and they would tip her eneormously just like she was entertaing them.
She woke up in the middle of the night feeling a contraction in her belly but she brushed it off. It must be brixton hicks, maybe beacuse she had to make deliveries to 29th floor on one building and 31st floor on another. They had no elevators and she had to go all the way up on her foot. Luckily the parcels were small. Another notable delivery was a very heavy box only god knows what was in that. It was on the 2nd floor but the box weighed 45lbs. Just as she bent down and tried to lift it up, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She squatted down and leaned on the heavy box and did some deep breaths to ride out the pain. Maybe that strain was causing brixton hicks now she thought. She rubbed her belly to soothe the pain and fell asleep again.
Her day started again with a terrible cramp. Her back was aching and her belly sitting lower than usual. She could literally feel the weight of the baby in her pelvis. She waddle with one hand on her back and the other under her gravid midsection. How unfortunate she was. Today's delivery had so many big heavy packages. After delivering only 4 parcels, she felt a gush of fluid coming down from her uniform pants, followed by an intense contraction. "Nghh c'mon now is not the time baby let mommy do her job" she murmured, gritting her teeth. As she kept on her route, the interval between contractions were getting smaller and the contraction duration getting longer and longer. Having to carry heavy boxes and going up and down the stairs were no help at all. The labour was being sped up by those actions. But people seemed to enjoy watching her struggles. They were watching from their doors but offered no help to her, smiling satisfiyingly. But they would tip her a lot as if they were purposely ordering to watch her suffer.
It has been 6 hours and she could not even walk properly now. Her contractions were back to back and it was as if the baby would fell out with each step. She had to rest several times leaning against something when delivering. Having to squat and picking up parcels from the ground was a torture. Her repeated squats were forcing the fetus down faster. Her body was drenched in sweat and amniotic fluid. She could feel the baby head in her vagina trying to crown. Every contraction took her breath. She felt this huge urge to push but she knew this wasn't the time or place to give birth. She got onto her truck slowly and continued to deliver. Trying not to screaming from her contractions and not to push seemed almost impossible. She slipped her hand inside her pants and felt a round matted hair at her swollen lips. "Don't come out yet don't come out yet" she repeated like a mantra and went to deliver another package. She had to struggle to walk because of the crowninf head between her legs. The baby was coming whether she liked it or not. Her soaked pants formed a bulge to accomodate the emerging head. "Oh no not now" she put her hand over the bulge and push it back in. The pain almost made her scream and took her breath away. But once she got out of her car seat and started walking and lifting, the head slowly slid down again. Her waddle became wider and wider, the round bulge between her legs got bigger and bigger as her shift went by. A few hours later after finishing up her route, she finally gave in, took off her clothes and pushed the baby out.
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Several Shots Later (Pro!Sero x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader)
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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.
#smutty smut#bnha smut#black fanfic writer#my works#my fic shit#black writers#black coded reader#chubby reader#sero x black!reader#sero x chubby!reader#sero hanta#latino sero hanta#daddy sero#latin sero hanta
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I've been binging your x readers the past few days, and they're so well done!! If it's not much trouble, could you do a 2k3 Donnie x GN Reader during the Adventures in Turtlesitting/Good Genes arc? I've been turning the thought of (Y/N) witnessing his transformation and going "Like Hell I'm not gonna do something about this" and doing what they can to make a cure; even standing up to Bishop and Stockman. I'm a sucker for "You helped me, it's the least I could do to help you" stories. >u<
Secondary Mutation (Angst)
2003!Donatello x reader
A/N: Thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you to say💚 This arch goes over three episodes, but I’ve tried cut it down and make it more precise, making the main focus the showdown and all that at Area 51. Hope you enjoy💜
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Warning: Spelling (was a little tired towards the ending. Long day😅), Donnie with a secondary mutation, Bishop and Stockman being assholes, a little hostage situation like?
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You were there when it happened. You witnessed the whole thing as it unfolded. Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo and dropped you and a sick Donatello off at April’s place. It had been Leo’s idea, citing it would be good to keep both of you out of the sewers, while he and the other’s went on a hunt for Bishop’s mutants. You too thought it was a good idea, except it meant crashing April and Casey’s long awaited date night.
It had started out great. Or as great as it could. Your boyfriend was continuously sneezing and sniffling, bags running under his eyes, and shaking even when covered by several blankets. The poor guy was going through it.
But then the black out happened, leaving all of New York City in darkness. That was the last thing you needed, sitting with your shivering boyfriend’s head in your lap, trying to sooth him with your fingers tracing across his head. But nothing helped. Donnie felt horrible, and the darkness only made it worse for him.
As Casey went to look for a flashlight, Donnie started groaning out in pain, complaining that the cut on his leg was beginning to act up. He said it felt like it was burning, causing you even more worry than before. April wanted to help, but with her own boyfriend knocking things over in her room, as he looked for the flashlight, she had to leave to make sure he didn’t bring the whole apartment down over the shop. But that was when the trouble began.
Donnie groaning almost turned to screaming, his thigh convulsing. You were terrified, asking him if he was okay, begging him for an answer, but Donnie could not speak. The pain was too much for him. Then suddenly he let out an ear piercing scream, his thigh doubling in size. He sat up, hugging onto his legs, screaming and shaking as sweat ran down his face. His body started to grow, his belt, elbow pads and knee pads ribbing before he hurried up from the sofa, as if he frantically tried to find a solution on his own.
“Donnie?”, you asked terrified, trying to find him in the dark, grabbing your phone in your pocket.
“(Y/N)”, you heard Donnie’s strained voice call out from the corner of the room. You quickly turned on your phone's flashlight, pointing it in his direction. There he stood, double in size, red eyes, sweat dripping down his face with an expression of pain. “Help me”.
“Don?”, you asked in confusion, stepping closer to him. “What’s happening?”
“No!”, he exclaimed, just as April and Casey came back into the living room. “Stay back!”
“Don!”, they called out.
“No!”, Donnie yelled, before pushing past all of you, making a b-line directly for the door, breaking it off the hinges before he ran downstairs. “Get away from me!”
The next few hours were horrible. Finding Donnie had turned into a giant alligator-like creature in the basement, before you and your friends had to defend yourselves against your boyfriend. Casey even had to go as far as mashing him over the head with a vacuum. It was even more horrible knowing he had run off into the sewers, leaving you scared and worried while the guys looked for him.
All of this led you up to this point, you and your best friends seeking out Agent Bishop in order to find a cure for your horribly inflicted boyfriend. Seeing Donnie like this broke your heart. Tears rolled down your face as you watched him unconsciously float around in the round glass bubble. Somehow this was even worse than having watched him slam against the glass or the other containment unit, roaring like a wild beast, trying to claw at whatever he saw outside the glass. Even you. You almost broke down when he snapped against the glass, wanting to bite you.
You paced around Bishop’s lab, unable to sit still. Because if you sat down you would stare, and if you stare you would cry. And you did not want to cry, you wanted to act. You wanted to do something. You couldn’t just sit around and wait for his brothers to get whatever Bishop had asked of them. Especially not when Leatherhead and Splinter kept reading Donnie’s vitals, giving each other sad looks. You knew what they were saying. You could not hear it, but you knew it. Donnie’s time was running out. His second mutation was breaking down his body. And there was nothing you could do but wait. And you hated it. You felt like you were going mad. Time was ticking and you could do nothing but watch, feeling the need to scream and cry.
“Doctor Stockman”, Splinter said, turning to the walking brain on a stick that had been testing your patience ever since you got to Area 51. “Agent Bishop told us that you would administer the cure to Donatello”.
“To think that I’ve sunk so low”, Stockman spoke to no one but himself, testing out different liquids on a creature in a different bubble. “That my unparalleled genius, would be used to save the life of one of these freaks”. You bite the inside of your cheek, holding from the temptation of smashing the glass that harbored Stockman’s brain. "Unfathomable".
“Where’s the cure, Stockman?”, Leatherhead asked, doing his best to keep his tone civil. But Stockman ignored him, moving from one console to another, still talking to himself as he went.
“I’m pulled from sweet oblivion, for what?! This?!”
Getting tired of Stockman’s rambling, Leatherhead grabbed onto the walking stick, forcing him to face him. “Show us the cure, now!”
“Cure?”, Stockman asked. “You stupid animal! Agent Bishop lied. There is no cure”.
“What?!”, Splinter exclaimed, his eyes wide. You felt your own body going pale, stopping dead in your tracks. For a moment you stopped breathing. Leatherhead growled, anger bobbling inside of him.
“You inhuman, soulless, monster!”, Leatherhead yelled, slamming Stockman against the keyboard, before getting ready to punch the glass head himself.
“Leatherhead, please”, Splinter called out, putting a hand on the mutant’s shoulder. “I share your anger, but this will not help Donatello! We need solutions not vengeance”.
“According to me, that piece of gum needs a good chewing!”, you yelled, pointing at Stockman.
“You too, (Y/N)”, Splinter said. “Please, my child. For Donatello”.
“You’ll be wise to listen to your inlaw”, Bishop’s voice sounded as he walked into the lab. Leatherhead growled and you felt your fists tightened at the sight of his smug smile. Both you and Leatherhead started seeing red, your anger so great that not even Splinter could hold you back.
“I’ve waited a long time to do this”, Leatherhead said before grabbing Stockman by the metal throat. “Now you’ll know the meaning of pain!” He threw the lump of metal onto the ground, before making his way to the well dressed man. You wasted no time stomping your foot onto Stockman’s back, making him lay flat against the floor.
“Doctor Stockman is working on a cure”, Bishop calmly said. “He’s the best change Donatello has for survival”. You sucked a breath in, staring directly into Stockman’s lone eye. Leatherhead fought the urge not to jump on Bishop. “Harm me, and Stockman stops. And your friend has no chance!”
You reluctantly let Stockman go, just as Leatherhead decided to back away from Agent Bishop.
“Fine, for now villain”, the large mutant said, before turning to the robot human hybrid that had just managed to get off the floor. “Doctor Stockman, show me what you have so far”.
The scientist sighed, before moving to the console with Leatherhead and Master Splinter. You however went straight over to Bishop, anger still fuming off of you. “This better work, Bishop”, you growled. “Or else you’ll personally have to deal with me”.
Agent Bishop faked a kind smile. “Your care for your friends is admirable, Miss (L/N), especially your care for Donatello. Although, I’m right to assume that your care for the turtle goes above just that of friendships?”
“How I care for my friends is none of your business”, you calmly said, keeping your anger in check. “What is your business, is making sure Stockman succeeds”.
“If you say so, Miss. (L/N)”, Bishop said, before walking away, leaving you back alone in your anger and sadness. How you wished you could be hugging Donnie, just one more time.
—
Leatherhead and Stockman made great progress on the cure, with the first test subject being a success. Who would ever have thought that you would be happy with Stockman’s work, even if it actually had been Leatherhead that had done the most out of the two? But all that slight happiness disappeared the moment the Bishop opened his mouth.
“Impressive, Mr. Leatherhead”, he said, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “And to think, I was going to dissect you”. Leatherhead growled. “What a waste that would have been. You’re even more brilliant than Doctor Stockman!”
“That doesn’t take much”, you mumbled, Splinter lifting a finger, telling you to behave. For the sake of Donnie.
“What?!”, Stockman questioned, not believing what Bishop had said.
“Then, it works?”, Splinter asked, watching as the test subject turned human again.
“Doctor, prepare an airborne version of the cure for the New York outbreak. As well as a sample for Donatello”, Bishop said, turning directly towards you and Splinter. “If his brothers fulfill their side of the agreement”.
“Don’t worry, Bishop”, you said, engaging in a stare down with the agent. “They will”.
“Brave of you to trust the life of your sweetheart with his brothers”, Bishop said. “Or maybe even foolish”.
“We trust them”, was the last thing you got to say, before there was news on a returning base helicopter. You sighed a breath of relief. They were back.
You went up to the main entrance, meeting the brothers as they came in. Bishop did not greet them, instead demanding that they handed over the item he was wanting. They looked to Master Splinter, waiting for his confirmation, before Mikey handed the stone over. The moment the stone was in Bishop’s hand, the alarm sounded, red lights shining all over the base.
“Base destruct sequence initiated”, sounded the alarm over your heads, making your ears ring.
“This base has been compromised by your presence”, Bishop said. “You have 15 minutes to collect your brother, and vacate the premises”. Then Bishop turned, smiling over his shoulder before he left. “Pleasure doing business with you”. You felt your fist clench.
It took you less than a minute to find Leatherhead. He was already working the cure on Donnie, leaving you all anxious in anticipation. Fog built up inside the machine, before the door finally opened, letting out a dazed and confused Donnie, rubbing his eyes as he took in his surroundings.
“Hey, guys”, he said tiredly. “What’s up?”
“Donnie!”, you yelled, running to him, throwing your arms around him before bringing him into a thigh hug. He wobbled slightly, leaning his weight on you as he found his footing.
“Hey, babe”, he smiled, still a little confused. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
“That’s a story for a different time”, Leo said. “Now we gotta go before this place blows up!”
He didn’t have to say that twice. Quickly you all ran outside, finding the chopper before taking off. You just managed to get up high enough, before the base blew up, sending red, orange and yellow light across the sky.
You all breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have Donnie back, safe and sound.
“Welcome back, my son”, Splinter said, taking a hold of Donnie’s hand.
“Thanks Sensei”, he smiled, still a little tired. “But I hope you guys didn’t go through too much trouble for me”.
The reaction on everybody’s faces spoke volumes. None of you had the guts to tell him, and neither should you.
You took Donnie’s hand in yours, smiling at him. “For you, nothing’s too much trouble”, you said, placing a kiss on his cheek. Donnie blushed slightly, not sure how to react in front of his family. But in all honesty, it did not matter much to him at the moment. He was just happy to be back to normal, feeling your hand in his once more.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt donatello#tmnt donnie#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt raphael#tmnt raph#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey#tmnt x y/n#tmnt x reader#tmnt x you#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2003 donnie#tmnt 2003 donatello#tmnt 2003 leo#tmnt 2003 leonardo#tmnt 2003 raphael#tmnt 2003 raph#tmnt 2003 michelangelo#tmnt 2003 mikey#tmnt 2003 donnie x reader#tmnt 2003 donatello x reader#2003 teenage mutant ninja turtles#2003 donnie#2003 donatello#2003 tmnt
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Vengeance.
Sandor Clegane x fem!Martell!OC
Fucking a stranger while being held prisoner by the Brotherhood Without Banners wasn't Adora Martell's brightest idea.
warnings: sexual content (piv), slight!irrelevant!bondage
word count: 1.2k
A/N:!this is only the first chapter of my ongoing fanfic on wattpad (vrshxw), so for additional content check it there!
The small ray of sun that glistened through the cracks of the wooden caravan was the only thing that kept her sane. It was a hope, a reminder of the freedom she had and could reclaim.
The time spent locked away was measured by the strained, drunk voices of the Brotherhood, mainly Thoros'. As long as the sun was still shining he was chirping and groaning and humming. A not so foreign want to smash her head against the filthy wood of the caravan crept in again and again until he went to sleep. But even then, the bastard will start moaning and bluffing.
Adora could only wait patiently and enjoy some of the only moments of silence she'll get until the thieves finished their meal. She only ate during supper, enough to survive and be able to sleep without having a growling stomach and the Brotherhood quickly realised that after some failed attempts to shove food up her throat, thinking she'd starve herself.
The small door suddenly opened, pulling her out of thought. A couple of hysterical laughs were loudly audible, as she heard them throwing some other cursed soul in. "We have found you a friend, princess!" The archer's comment brought an even scowl to her figures.
And then, it was dark a quiet again. The new companion was silent as fuck, not even moving from the place in which the thieves put him. Adora cleared her throat, trying to get some reaction out of him. A man it seemed he was, a voluminous man, by the struggle of the Brotherhood to get him in. What kind of man his size let some cunts like them to capture him? She was dying to get the bag off her head and see him. The tight ropes around her and the smelly bag on her head that caused more grease to appear in her hair were the aftermath of a failed attempt of escaping. Damn the archer! If it wasn't for him she'd be far already. But no, he had to fire his arrow right into her already too weakened calf. The wound was long forgotten, one of their pathetic excuse of a healer made sure to add some salve on and bind it with rags. That was several weeks ago, months maybe, she was sure it was healed, however she couldn't test it due to the bindings around her.
She cleared her throat again, louder this time, bored by the man's quiet nature. After some minutes of listening to his even breath that reeked of cheap ale, Adora finally realised that he was unconscious. She huffed loudly, the first sound she let out for some good days.
Was it a couple of hours? Or just mare minutes? The dornish princess couldn't say. The man finally moved, letting out a hoarse groan.
He attempted to move, and only after he tried he realised that there were ropes that bound his whole body tightly.
A bitter voice laughed at him.
His eyes travelled in the dark of the caravan to catch the glimpse of the figure of a woman. Her binds were matching his, however she had a bag over her head, that prevented her from seeing his face.
The man's gaze continued to scan his surroundings, only finding unknown, the small ray of sun on the roof that allowed the smallest amount of light in showing him just that.
"Lost?" The woman's mocking voice stopped his gazing around. It was almost like her stare could burn through the bag on her head, allowing her to see every one of his chaotic moves, that ideed signaled that he was confused.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asked, thankful she couldn't see the look on his face, because if she did she would've seen a perplexed idiot.
He could feel the woman's smirk under her bag. "Someone not very differed from yourself"
The man let out a sound that could be classified as a laugh, even though it was more like a sneer. "I doubt that"
Her nostrils flared "You might be right actually, I could never stink the way you do"
He scoffed at her response, yet finding it quite appealing. He was need of a bath indeed. He could tell the woman also haven't got the chance to bathe in a while, but it was clearly not as bad as in his case.
"You don't know what I'd give for a bath" He grumbled, now paying a precise attention to the smell of his sweat.
"And perhaps a maiden or two to massage your shoulders as you do so, I take it?" She rose a brow inside the dullnes of her bag, her tone obvious, familiar to the nature of men.
"I might make you to do so, you seem quite content with it" He straightened his posture, stretching his tired bones.
She let out a 'hmph', tilting her head. "Well, I am quite entertaining"
The corner of his lip twitched. "Bet you are." For the first time he took his time to check her out and analyse every inch of her.
Feeling his deep stare, she crawled closer to him as fast as she could due to the ropes. She stopped next to him, bringing her chest forward. He somehow twisted is hand in the bindings and made a move to grip her arse.
She let out a faint chuckle, understating he had the same desires-no, desperations as her.
It was plain that neither of them had the chance to fulfil their needs. He took advantage of the fact that she wasn't able to see his face. She might be the only woman who fucked him wiggly, except the older whores that would fuck any man without remorse, but still they were paid whores and she was a willing woman for all he knew.
She ended up in his lap, undoing her breeches as his hands were tied behid his back unable to move, leaving all the word to be done by her.
Both of them groaned feeling her grind against him before succeeding to slip inside her with an even guttural moan. Her shoulders were pressed against his armoured chest, leaning on it to help herself ride him with the lack of balance the ropes around her legs gave her.
Adora found herself letting sounds loud enough for the members of the Brotherhood outside to hear them, the rough slapping of her bottom on him, along with his groans there and there. A faint headache would root at the level of her head from all the noise she was doing, as she felt herself tightening around him, but it was good, not only because she was close to her peak, but because it felt like revenge, like those thieves outside were paying for it with their ears falling off and unsuccessful curses.
And she continued to do so, until she, herself was tired of the vengeful sounds she was making.
read future chapters on wattpad
#sandor clegane#sandor clegane x oc#sandor clegane smut#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#house martell#dorne#thoros of myr#the brotherhood without banners#smut#fanfic#mdni#the hound#sandor clegane fanfic
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Potter Wasp Megalomorpha
I lay on the floor, paralyzed. How long has it been? Days? Hours? Mere hellish minutes? It’s too dark now to tell. I hear my ragged breath in my ears. White hot pain shoots down my spine as I feel whatever is now attached to my back begin to wriggle and writhe.
–?? Months? earlier.
Grandma Maggie needed help after her fall. I was the closest family member to her, so I was the one to make the several hours’ drive to her home in rural north Georgia. The further north I go, the more hilly the roads become. This shouldn’t be an issue, but July’s hurricane season, and the rain, makes the roads slippery and difficult to climb. I should’ve just gotten a motel room when I had the chance, but by now, civilization was too far behind me to stop. I was closer to grandma Maggie than I was to the Best Value Motel I’d seen hours before.
My beater of a Toyota chugs along a steep road when lightning flashes above and thunder reverberates through my car. My foot slips off the gas pedal, causing my car to slide down the road. I pump the brakes, but it was no use as my car hydroplanes into the guardrail. My head lurches forward as my car comes to a sudden halt. The seatbelt keeps my body safe, but the sudden pressure against my sternum as it holds me in place knocks the wind out of me.
My airbags didn’t deploy, and that perturbs me. Grabbing my umbrella from the backseat, I step out into the rain and inspect the damage. The rear right wheel sticks out at a funny angle. My car is wrecked. I sit back down in the driver’s seat and grab my phone from the glove box. There’s no signal. In vain, I try calling 911, but my phone can’t connect. I’m well and truly stranded.
Resting my head against the steering wheel, I look out the passenger window. I sit back up as I strain to look farther. Faint light from a structure in the woods fills my hopeful eyes. I grab my umbrella to brave the rain once more. Hopefully, whoever owns this house has a landline, or at the very least, a place to sleep that isn’t the backseat of my car.
My boots squish through soft red mud as I trudge towards the house, walking for what feels like hours. My socks are soaked through. I look behind me towards my car. The house was visible from the road, so I should be able to see the road behind me even if I haven’t made it to the house.
But when I turn around, all I see is a thick forest. “It must be the rain obscuring my vision,” I try to assure myself, in vain. I whip my head back towards the house, afraid it might disappear if I look away for too long. Thankfully, it’s still there, its warm yellow lights greeting me with cheer.
It doesn’t seem any closer and I worry the car crash knocked a screw loose in my head. I pray I’m not hallucinating as I continue my slog through the downpour. But finally the house appears to get closer as I walk towards it. Dark brown wood siding and white shutters make the house look quaint, or it would if not for the fact that the house is half buried in a hill.
Was there a landslide? The weather is wet enough, and the area is hilly enough for it, but the house seems undamaged. The hill is red clay with no grass on it or nothing. I try not to look at it. Its strange unnatural lumps make me feel uneasy.
Ignoring my discomfort, I approach the house. But when I knock on the door and the lights from inside the house vanish. I guess they weren’t expecting guests. Desperate to get out of the rain, I pound on the door. My clothes are soaked and I’m shivering with cold despite the muggy July air. There is no answer. I pound the door harder. Someone’s in there or they wouldn’t’ve turned the lights off when I first knocked.
I almost think about shouting through the door and begging when the door creaks open. I expected the door to swing open with someone on the other side. Instead, it pushes open as if it had been stuck and my banging dislodged it.
The inside of the house is dusty and disused. It’s clear no one has inhabited this house for years. I step forward, dripping water onto creaking floorboards. Mud squishes into the faded welcome mat beneath my feet. I turn my phone’s flashlight on.
“Hello?” I call out. Silence greets me back. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as a feeling of wrongness overcomes me. I shouldn’t be here, but as if in a trance, I walk deeper into the house. As my ears adjust from the loud rain to the silent house, I realize it’s not silent. Faint dripping noises from a roof leak above me and a strange gurgling noise ahead of me fill the space. I keep walking forward.
In the living room I walk past moth-eaten couches and a dusty overturned bookshelf. Mildewed books strewn across the floor, filling the house with the heady scent of rotting paper. I keep walking forward. I approach the kitchen, unable to see much of it beyond a toppled fridge from my angle of approach. The gurgling sound grows louder.
“Is anyone there?” I whisper, fearful that someone might answer. When I reach the kitchen, I look for where the gurgling sound might be coming from. Did the landslide damage the house after all? Is muddy water bubbling through the siding? I step around the fallen fridge. I aim my camera light ahead of me and see strange lumpy masses on the floor. The light is too weak for me to see more than the vague shape of things, but the lumps don’t look like kitchen furniture.
I look closer and my heart and breathing stop. The lumps are people, but their bodies are wrong. Twisted and bumpy. Strange long pods seem to grow from their backs. Are those mushrooms? What is growing out of them? The growths seem too organized to be natural, going straight down their twisted spines. With horror I realize these… people are the sources of the gurgling sound. Their eyes are rolled back and they do not seem aware of my presence. Their chests rise and fall, showing they are still barely alive somehow.
I take a step back, but my foot catches onto the fridge behind me and I fall. Above me, I hear a menacing buzz. I look up and the fear washes out of me. Everything is okay. Everything is beautiful.
Warmth embraces me, and pleasure tingles down my spine. When did I end up on the floor? Not that it matters. At some point my camera’s light dies, but that doesn’t matter either. All that matters is this beautiful, pleasurable warmth. I try to smile, but I can’t feel my face.
FANNIN COUNTY, Ga. — Detectives in Fannin County are hosting an event in hopes of getting closer to identifying the remains of 7 people found in an abandoned house that was destroyed in a landslide, according to a release from the district attorney and medical examiner’s office.
People are invited to the Fannin County Public Library on West Main Street to attend a missing persons event and DNA drive. It’s free to the public and being held on May 20 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Families of missing persons are asked to come together at the event to share any information about their loved ones, as well as to open or add to any missing persons’ reports. Officials encourage attendees to consider donating DNA samples, which can assist with identification efforts.
Criticisms of the Fannin County Police Department are mounting as the FCPD deny allegations of covering up a serial killer.
#megalomorpha#bug#wasp art#fiction#short story#horror story#bug horror#wasp#ovipositor#parasitic wasps
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What if with MK1 Medusa Reader Part II
A/N: A continuation of this what if plot I thought of. I was inspired by @professionalranter31 to write this one from the perspective of the Mortal Kombat characters reacting to Medusa!Reader summoning the Kraken.
Credit goes to Giong2296 from Deviant art.
Ashrah, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage,and Kenshi.
You are on your hands and knees and the edge of a cliff facing the ocean that just had an armada of ships sailing towards the shore. In an instant, the Dragon King, Onaga, wiped them all from existence with an infernal ball of fire. Leaving nothing behind but smoldering remains and husks. On those ships, was supposed to be Empress Mileena and her Supreme Commander and sister, Kitana, and their father, former Emperor Jerrod. Along with your close friends, Zaterran Emissary, Syzoth, and Tarkatan Colony leader, Baraka. Your dearest loved ones. Gone.
“There’s nothing left to loose.”
You whisper as tears start to pour from your face, the scorching sun above soon evaporating them with its heat. Behind you, Ashrah approaches you to place a hand on your shoulder.
"Please Y/N, you know that's not true."
You shake off Ashrah's hand as you begin to rise on your feet. A dark and determined look sets itself on your features. You then reach into your robe's pocket to pull out some yellowed and weathered composition sheets.
"I didn't want it to come down to this. I really didn't, but the choice is now obvious."
"What are you-"
Ashrah is caught off guard when you threw your head back and belt out the first few notes, but she's able to get enough of a glance at the sheets you held to cause her stomach to drop. The demoness recognizes the writing to belong to some of the darkest magicks. Ashrah glances up at the sky as dark storm clouds begin to brew.
"Y/N, STOP!"
But you don't heed her warning, instead sending her back a safer distance with the others with a flick of your water magic. You're then surrounded by a torrent of darkness and bioluminescent green before it engulfs you.
The seas began to bubble as if being brought to a broil, as your magic reaches the sky to bring in more storm clouds followed by a torrent of rain falling hard. Shang Tsung stops mid-fight watches with Quan-chi and Rain with surprise written on the latter's face. The former High Mage then snaps out of his stupor to grab Shang Tsung by the front of his tunic.
"What did you do, Sorcerers?"
Raine demanded, after all, the island they're on is Shang Tsung's. The latter gives a deep scowl.
"I tried to warn her against this, I hoped she would be wise enough to never try to summon it.
"And you did not think to inform me about this?"
Quan-chi raises a none existent brow as tentacles began to sprout from the sea before wrapping themselves around the Dragon King. Onaga lets out a mighter roar that shakes the ground beneath him.
The forementioned sorcerer glances over at you as you raise yourself even higher on a pillar of sea water, with your magic dancing and twisting around you as if they were made from the element you commanded. You yourself danced with your hands in the air and wings spread out, all while your appearance began to drastically darken to reflect your now tainted soul. If Quan-chi didn't know any better, he would think that you came straight from the Netherealm itself.
Onaga and the Kraken's battle becomes so tumultuous that tsunamis the size of mountains form, and would've engulfed everyone if it weren't for Rain stepping in to literally hold back the tides. Essentially leaving a giant wall of water to tower everyone on the shore. However he couldn't hold back all of it as some waves still managed to slip through his grasp, but less severe to the tsunami in comparison. Rain's entire body strained from the amount of magic he was exerting. The former High Mage pushed back against the waves, wondering if the force and power in these waves were your doing a byproduct of the monster you summoned, or some twisted combination of both.
Shao and Reiko are watching with surprise at the monstrosity you summoned to defeat Onaga. Both the rebel and imperial army stopped in mid-battle at the horrific spectacle, with vultures and sea birds alike circling above them to either flee or pick at the fallen.
"What sorcery is this, General?"
Reiko inquires, as he watches the Dragon King he nearly died trying to semi-tame crush whatever is under the waves with his feet, only for more tentacles to arise from the ocean to wrap around Onaga's limb. Both them and the gigantic whirpool threaten to pull in the Dragon King and never let go. General Shao pulls out a telescope from his belt before directing his second in command to look through it.
"Who else but that sea witch?"
Contrary to Y/N and most misinformed fools `would believe, General Shao did not receive the rank he did by brute strength alone. No, it took a good amount of strategizing and his knack for reading his enemies to rise through the ranks. This is why Shao's blood-red gaze falls on to your distant figure that's faced towards Onaga and the other creature. You make grabbing motions and the beast wraps its tendrils around the Dragon King, you swipe with your arm and so do the tentacles. Onaga retaliates by letting another devastating blast of fire to the clinging tendrils, which causes whatever lurks under the ocean to let out an earth-shattering shriek that could only be rivaled by the late Sindel.
With Shao having figured out that you're the one controlling the Kraken, the former General concludes with Reiko that you had to be taken down. So they send half of their remaining forces to your location, who soon run into trouble as the tentacles from the Kraken breach through the suspended tsunami to crush, smash, and wipe away the approaching rebel army as if they were ants. As if that wasn't bad enough, the fallen including soldiers from the imperial army, are absorbed into these tendrils to disappear under the surface.
This did not deter either General Shao or Reiko as they sprinted through the battlefield, flooded with blood and the torrent sea. They clawed, scrapped, and fought their way through the ocean tainted with blood and cut down any tentacles that dared come near them.
Meanwhile, your group, headed by Ashrah, attempts to get through to you and beg you to stop from finishing the forbidden ritual. Yet, their cries are lost in the howling winds as you raise your darkened arms to the sky and voice loudly. You didn't even spare them a glance when Ashrah and Raiden attempted to fly to your position before you used your magic to create doppelgangers made of water to stop them. You essentially force everyone to fight against their watery reflections that copy them move for move.
Your plan worked as the Kraken, in all its terrible terrible horror, rises from its maelstrom. The entire island seems to tremble from just the Eldritch horror's full awakening.
The Kraken lets out another shriek, as if in victory for being summoned again before it then attempts to tear into Onaga. The Dragon King literally locks horns with the Kraken with smoke bellowing from his mouth, not ready to admit defeat just yet.
On the shores, a good distance from the battle and out of your line of sight, those you thought perished finally make their way to shore. Although, their entrance wasn't quite smooth or easy as they nearly crashed on the jagged rocks lining the shore.
If it weren't for Jerrod's telekinetic ability creating a protective bubble around them, he, his daughters, Tanya, Syzoth, and Baraka would've been claimed by the waves. It's also what saved them all from becoming burnt corpses at the bottom of the ocean from Onaga's fire.
Although this miraculous save may not be so much of a miracle, they watch the catastrophe unfolding before them. Baraka's eyes instinctively scan to find you, almost unable to recognize your warped appearance resembling a creature from the deepest parts of the ocean. You were still dancing and singing, the eye of storm unfolding.
"Y/N, what did you do?"
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x reader#mk x reader#mortal kombat 1#shang tsung#oddball writes#baraka x reader#Rain mk#Syzoth#mk mileena#Kitana#Ermac#Jerrod#Reiko#General Shao#mk 1#Tot Musica#kenshi takahashi#Johnny Cage#Kung Lao#Raiden#ashrah#mk onaga
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Tess' Sharpuary - 6. Kneazle
Aesop meets a small, fluffly stranger. Where could its parents be, though?
chapter specific tags: slice of life, fluff, aesop sharp being a cat dad
relationships: aesop sharp & reader
6. Kneazle (2.7k)
tw: none
It was one of those days that are simply good.
Aesop began his day feeling well rested - something he had to pat his back for, since he actually made himself go to bed early the previous day - the cool morning air felt fresh and rejuvenating on his heated body instead of causing a chill, and his leg was obviously having a good day as well, as his morning dose of Wiggenweld left him with only mild discomfort instead of the usual annoying dull pain. He attended breakfast feeling carefully optimistic, his eggs with soldiers perfectly warm and filling, his tea brewed just right. He had a pleasant chat with Dinah, and was happy to find the politicians over at the Ministry were, for once, not wreaking havoc upon the wizarding community, when his friend passed the Daily Prophet over to him.
Even his classes went well that day. The students were focused and attentive, nobody blew up their cauldron, and even the worst brewed potion would probably get no worse than an A from him. Mr Weasley kept his mind on the task at hand, and didn’t attempt any of his usual shenanigans, and the Now-Not-So-New Sixth-year Ravenclaw frankly impressed him with her Draught of the Living Death. Seeing her turn her head and beam at him when he praised her work was the highlight of his already great day.
The potions master felt so well, he actually decided to use the time he had after his last class before dinner to take a leisurely stroll over Hogwarts grounds.
The sun was setting quickly, the last bits of departing winter making themselves known, but Aesop was feeling rather content. He had the mind to apply a heating charm to his clothes, so not even the cool air blowing gently in his face and through his hair were able to make him feel cold.
Then, however, and it was only because the wind stopped blowing for a few seconds, he heard an unexpected sound. Aesop didn’t know what it was, the sound having been so quiet, but his ears instantly perked up and he stopped in his tracks. He waited for several seconds, straining his ears, and sure enough, there it was again. It was coming from the bushes somewhere to his left, and he slowly began walking in the direction. The sound would repeat every now and then, becoming louder and louder, until he could properly identify it.
It was a kitten’s meow.
Normally, that’d be hardly out of the ordinary. After all, there were dozens of cats roaming the castle, both inside and outside, and there was the occasional litter of kittens, but it was most unusual for kittens this little to be all by themselves, out in the cold no less. At least, Aesop presumed it was a little one, judging only by the pitch of the cry. Poor dear, Aesop thought as he continued walking towards the source of the small meowing.
Aesop liked cats, and the only reason he didn’t keep one himself was the fact that he could hardly have it in his always dutifully locked rooms, unable to run around as it pleased. Not to mention the fact that he’d be worried about it accidentally breaking some potion or, Merlin forbid, poison and getting hurt as a result. So instead he made friends with some of the Hogwarts felines, gladly petting them and doting on them when nobody saw, and he didn’t even mind having to cast the scouring charm on himself to get rid of the cat hair whenever one of the little creatures rubbed against his legs, or when he actually picked one of them up.
Finally he reached the shrubs where the sound seemed to be originating from. The meowing was clearly audible here, but he couldn’t see through the thick greenery. Deciding to test his leg a bit, he crouched down, and was glad not to find himself in immediate pain. He put his dominant hand in front of himself and flexed his fingers.
“Here, kitty kitty… pspspsps…” he whispered, keeping his voice soft.
The meowing got louder, and he could hear some shuffling noises from the shrubs. Suddenly, a small but very fluffy head appeared at the bottom of it. The creature had large ears which were even fluffier at the top, bright yellow eyes, and a dark nose, and it mewed loudly at him, but it was immediately obvious that it wasn’t a cat.
“A Kneazle?” Aesop wondered out loud, his voice making the tiny creature startle. He cringed slightly, lowering his voice again.
“Sorry, sorry… Come here, I’m not going to hurt you.”
The kitten approached him very slowly and sniffed at his fingers warily. It must’ve decided the potions master posed no danger to it, as seconds later it rubbed its cheek against his index and middle finger. “There you go…” Aesop praised softly. Was this one of Bai’s Kneazles? How did the poor thing get all the way out here? In any case, he couldn’t just leave it here, the nights were still cold, and he frankly couldn’t imagine leaving the defenceless kitten by itself like that.
“Will you let me pick you up, hm?” he asked and slowly moved to scoop the Kneazle into his hands, something it didn’t seem to mind too horribly. He brought it close to his face to properly look at it, and the kitten seemed to do the same with him. It craned its neck to look and sniff at everything. Aesop couldn’t help but chuckle when a tiny paw made contact with his face. Then, however, it seemed the little creature became particularly interested in his sleeves, and actually tried to crawl down one, prompting him to chuckle again.
Ah! He realised suddenly. The heating charm. “You must be cold…” Aesop wondered where he should place the Kneazle for transport to keep it warm. When he slowly lowered it to his coat pocket, its inside already enlarged by charm, he was quite surprised that it not only didn’t seem to mind, but actually climbed straight in, making itself right at home. It peeked out of his pocket, happy to be able to look around while enveloped in the warmth. The potions master thought he could hear quiet purring. He shook his head - the little beast was quite bold for being so small.
Nevertheless, he made his way over to the beast enclosures and Bai’s hut. He didn’t even have to knock on her door to know the teacher wasn’t currently present, as it was dark on the inside, and there was no answer when he called her name out. Oh well.
He knew where he was going when he made his way over to where the Kneazles were kept. During the winter, many of the beasts were kept within the battlements during the nights, despite the fact that they’d be perfectly alright outside. Aesop entered their hutch, and instantly felt even warmer. The kitten hid further inside his pocket.
“Hm? What gives? Don’t you want your mummy?” he asked. He gently pulled it out of his pocket, but found that the kitten was resisting. Nevertheless, he managed to put it down on the hay-lined ground. A few of the Kneazles seemed interested in the young one, and approached warily. The large cat-like beasts sniffed the air, their heads turning to Aesop’s and the kitten's direction.
Two females came closer to sniff at the shivering kitten, its fur standing on end. To Aesop’s surprise, the two adults then simply turned and walked away from the kitten. Another one came closer, but it didn’t even take the time to take the kitten’s scent, and instead immediately hissed and growled, prompting further panic. Aesop was quick enough to pick it up once more, right before the large Kneazle’s paw connected with it in a clearly aggressive strike.
It was at this point that Aesop finally realised something - there were no other kittens around. It wasn’t unheard of for Kneazles to have a litter of one, but it was most unusual for a clowder of Kneazles consisting of several females to only have a single lone kitten. This wasn’t a Hogwarts Kneazle, Aesop realised, putting it back in his pocket and swiftly making his way out of there, as it seemed the grown female wasn’t exactly keen on sharing her space with the little stranger any longer.
If it wasn’t one of the Hogwarts Kneazles… then how in Merlin’s name did it get here? Of course, Aesop knew that there were clowders of Kneazles littered all throughout the Highlands, but he also recalled professor Howin saying that none of them is particularly close to the school. Definitely not close enough for a kitten this small to make it all the way here from over there. Was there a new clowder close to the school? Or… Aesop knew the answer. Poachers. While most of them had disappeared during the previous year, some were still there, and they were often bold. It wouldn’t be the first time one such group grew as bold as to operate this close to the castle.
And if that truly was the case… then this little one had nobody to take care of it… Blast it. He didn’t even consider finding Bai and just giving the Kneazle to her at this point, seeing the others’ reaction to the small one, but then what else was he to do? Bring it over to Brood and Peck? Surely Ellie could take care of it…
And then it hit him.
The Room of Requirement! The Sixth-year Ravenclaw told him she kept a few Kneazles in one of her vivariums; perhaps she could take care of this one too!
“Are you alright there?” he asked, looking at his side. The kitten was once more peeking out of his pocket, but it seemed slightly more wary than it was before. He reached a finger towards it to scratch it under its neck, prompting it to purr and lean into the touch slightly.
Aesop took a deep breath in preparation for the long climb up to the Astronomy tower and set off.
The little beast was very very lucky his leg was behaving today, else he’d probably do something unwise, such as send it to the Ravenclaw by owl. He cringed inwardly - he could hardly imagine that turning out well. Luckily, his ascend wasn’t too horrible, and he soon saw the door leading to the hidden room materialise out of nowhere. He normally wouldn’t go into the room without the young woman, seeing it as a breach into her privacy, but he supposed this was a special situation.
Still, as he entered the now increasingly familiar room, he called out for her. There was no answer. It seemed Deek wasn’t here either, most likely busy aiding the other house elves in preparing the dinner. He stepped further into the room, and was once again enveloped in its comfort. It was grand and spacious, but it felt cosy and comfortable, and he thought it wouldn’t be exactly a punishment to curl up on one of the sofas with a good book and ignore reality for a while.
The potions master shook his head to banish the thought for now. “Now, where does she keep the Kneazles, little one?” he asked mostly to himself, but it seemed the kitten sensed it was being addressed, and squeaked in answer. Let’s see - the one in front had Unicorns, Fwoopers, Puffskeins… no. The one on the right? Hippogriffs, Diricawls and… Aesop winced. He very much hoped the Kneazles weren’t in the same vivarium as the graphorns… The one on the left? No, no… Aesop made his way up the stairs, and then to the last vivarium.
A wave of energy coursed through his body as he entered, the air shifting and changing, he felt the sudden warmth of magical sunlight and wind blowing gently through his hair.
His lungs filled with the fresh mountain air. The first thing he saw was the fiery plumage of a majestic Phoenix soaring up in the sky, cutting through it like pure flame. And then - then he heard the sounds of creatures. He was easily able to identify the squeaking and sniffing sounds produced by Nifflers, and was quick to spot them on the far right. His eyes scanned the area, and just as he was about to turn back and explore the other vivariums (keeping the coastal one for last, obviously), he saw it.
A large, fluffy head was staring at him from one of the windows of the ruined building to his right.The professor began his approach slowly, his hand unconsciously coming to stroke at the kitten’s fur again. He entered the ruins and saw them. A small family of Kneazles; two grown ones and two kittens. It was obvious the kitten in his pocket didn't belong with them, its colour and pattern was entirely different from both parents. Speaking of the parents, they were watching him with mild suspicion, but neither of them seemed too defensive. He approached slowly, and once again pulled the small Kneazle out of his pocket, placing it on the ground. He kept more of a distance now, and was ready to pick it up if necessity called for it, but stood his ground, even as the kitten got frightened once more.
The female Kneazle got up from her litter and approached the stranger curiously. Like the Hogwarts Kneazles, she sniffed at it slowly, and then began turning away. Aesop’s shoulders slumped in disappointment and frustration. However, then instead of walking away from the kitten, the female gave a meow. The male, large and robust, slowly walked closer and imitated his mate, taking in the newcomer’s scent. The kitten itself seemed ever so slightly less frightened now, but was still looking at the two large beasts warily.
And then Aesop’s lips spread into a wide grin when both adult Kneazles began cleaning the little one with their tongues. He gave a big sigh of relief and happily watched the mother grab her newly adopted child by the scruff in order to bring it over to her own two squeaking offspring, the father following close behind.
“She was supposed to have three,” sounded next to him and Aesop jumped visibly. He turned around, wand drawn, accidentally startling the Kneazles behind him as well. “Sorry, sorry!” said the Sixth-year Ravenclaw, lifting her hands in front of herself in defence “M-Miss (L/N)!” was all Aesop managed to get out. They stood like this for several seconds, but then Aesop realised he was still pointing his wand directly at the poor girl.
“Uh,” he said eloquently, “I’m sorry, I-...” He put his wand away, feeling terribly awkward about having been caught unprepared like so, “sorry to have come here without your knowledge. And for pointing my wand at you, you… surprised me.”
“It’s alright,” she said, a smile beginning on her face, “both of it. I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have creeped up on you like I did. As for being here, well, you can come here anytime you like, it’s not like I’ve got something secret here.” The potions master chuckled.
“Apart from a few very dangerous beasts, you mean?” he asked with a wry smile. She merely shrugged her shoulders: “Professor Weasley knows about them, so they’re not exactly secret.”
The two of them turned towards the newly expanded family of Kneazles. “What do you mean she was supposed to have three?” asked Aesop then and sadness flashed in the girl’s eyes visibly: “What I said. She gave birth to three kittens, but… well, one of them didn’t make it. I had to bury it, outside of the castle, and she… Well, she’s been an amazing mother, but I could see that she was still sad. They’re very clever and sensitive creatures, Kneazles, with a full scale of emotions… People don’t give them enough credit. Look at her now!”
And indeed, the female Kneazle had all three kittens nursing on her, her head resting on the ground, her eyes blinking happily. The male was keeping watch it seemed, protecting his mate and their children. “Where did you get the little one?” asked the Ravenclaw, looking at her teacher curiously, but before he could answer, she spoke up again: “Would you mind telling me over tea?”
Aesop couldn’t help but grin back at her: “No, not at all.”
---
Thank you for reading! You can also check out the entirety of Sharpuary on my AO3 ❤
[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]
#sharpuary#sharpuary 2024#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fanart#fanarz#digital art#artists on tumblr#aesop sharp#professor sharp#mc reader#aesop sharp and reader#kneazle
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Happy Holidays Shana! Fem!MXY!WWX has infected my brain! More of that, please?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Wei Wuxian has the deafening talisman on his chest and a blindfold wrapped tightly around his face and held together with a different talisman so he doesn’t have to worry about it slipping. He leaves his sword sheathed for now – it wouldn’t do well to start out too strong.
He stands, loose and easy, but nothing happens. He huffs. “I really will punish you if you refuse to help me. I am your superior. Don’t overthink it, just do as you’re told.”
Rich advice, coming from him, but they don’t know that.
He feels the air move to his left and he lifts his hand, grabbing a slim wrist and twisting it so she has to let go of her sword. He yanks her forward, thinking of the moves he used to drill Shijie in, and pulls her over his shoulder and slams her to the ground.
He pops upright, bracing himself for the next attacks, but none come.
This is getting annoying.
“I’ll tell you when to stop,” he says. “Until I say otherwise, keep coming up at me. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.”
This time he feels their footsteps through the ground. Lazy. What, are they stomping? That has to be a funny image at least. He raises his sheathed sword to stop one attack, while kicking out his leg towards his other attacker. He aims too high, hitting meaty thigh instead of fragile knees, and has to throw himself on the ground to avoid the next attack. That does mean he’s low enough to yank their feet out from under them and then he rolls around just in time to avoid the attack that he’s pretty sure was coming from behind, which means his two opponents should have just taken themselves out.
“Someone remind me to assign footwork lessons after this,” he says. He’s just going to assume someone answers in the affirmative. They are Lans.
More come, two more sets of two before they figure out that’s not going to work, and then they’re attacking in groups of three and four. That’s when he stops being able to dodge every hit, but it’s also when his mind quiets. Everything slows down and he feels his lung expand, the sweaty grip he has on his sword sheath, and the growing collection of throbbing wounds across his body. He almost unsheathes his sword a dozen times, but this is good, he can almost feel his core straining and fighting against the confines of his body.
Finally. This is what he wanted. It’s not about thinking, fighting like this, just reacting, just trusting his borrowed body to notice things in time to react to them. It’s been close to an hour, his breaths are coming out more as wheezes, he’s at least twisted an ankle and possibly broken a rib, and he has some sort of head wound that’s causing blood to soak into his blindfold. It’s miserable and painful and not something this body is trained to handle, but he’s endured worse for longer. At last none of the Lans are trying to eat him.
Suddenly it all stops. He widens his stance, holding up his sword sheathe defensively, but nothing happens. “I didn’t stay stop,” he croaks. “Do as you’re told. Attack.”
The moment stretches on long enough that he’s getting genuinely annoyed about it when he’s throwing himself to the side, only realizing why when he feels the reverberation of a powerful cultivation blade hitting the ground next to him.
They’ve called in reinforcements, it seems. Maybe one of the elders? Fair enough, honestly.
Wei Wuxian unsheathes his sword, meeting the next blow more on a guess than anything else. The strength behind it is enough to send him skittering back several feet, but he doesn’t let his grip slip an inch. Then they’re pushing away from each other and he’s meeting the next blow based on what he would do, which probably isn’t fair to this random Lan elder, but oddly enough it works.
Every blow is powerful enough to make his bones shake and his opponent is skilled enough that Wei Wuxian can barely sense the air moving until it’s almost too late. His few minutes fighting this person are harder than the past hour of standing against disciples, but Wei Wuxian learned a long time ago how to compartmentalize his pain to keep fighting.
Doing this is making him stronger. He needs to be stronger to figure out what Mo Xuanyu wanted him to do. Mo Xuanyu killed herself to get his help. He can’t disappoint her.
He can’t give in.
New energy surges through him, bright and searing, painful even in its usefulness. He doesn’t let himself think about it, instead he pushes through, uses it to put his opponent on the defensive for once. Their fight is flowing faster, almost as if it’s a pattern, like they’re dancing instead of fighting.
Wei Wuxian feels a cool blade against his throat right as rests the edge of his sword on his opponent’s shoulder, flush against their neck.
A draw. Better than he’d expected, given his current physical condition.
His opponent doesn’t lower their sword, so he doesn’t either, but he does release the talismans with a burst of cultivation energy. At first he thinks it doesn’t work because everything is still so silent, but then he can hear the harshness of his own breathing and his blindfold slips off his face.
Lan Zhan is standing there, his sword at his throat, and his face pale and eyes wide. He’s hit with a dizzying sense of déjà vu. It’s like they’re fifteen again, on that rooftop with two bottles of Emperor’s smile dangling between them and the bright, fat moon hanging above.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice coming out too high and strangled.
This can’t be happening. He can’t know. He’ll hate him and throw him out if he doesn’t kill him outright and then Mo Xuanyu will have died for nothing and Sizhui will be so said and he won’t understand – and what if his siblings find out, that’s the last thing he wants –
He keeps his voice steady and face even as he asks, “Who is Wei Ying?”
Lan Zhan’s face shuts down. “I – please excuse me, Xuanyu.” He lowers his sword, turning and doing the closest thing to running away that Wei Wuxian has seen him do since they were teenagers.
All the Lans are staring at him and gaping. The adrenaline leaves him all at once and he collapses to the ground, his legs refusing to support him.
He groans and then several dozen Lans converge on him, multiple concerned shouts of, “Madame Lan!” nearly deafening him all over again.
It’s kind of nice, actually.
#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#math-is-magic#untamed#i feel like we need a non-wwx pov of this for full effect
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Gimmi something angsty like I’ve been digging for that pt wise and I can’t find SQUAT
It started off somewhat normal, if you could call it that.
Stress over debt and bills and such had led to a bit of an episode for Peppino. You did your best to sit through it with him, giving him water and rubbing his back as you tried to get him to breathe with you. But then it wasn't so normal.
Suddenly, he was gripping his chest, dizzy and hardly able to sit up straight, much less stand. It scared you, so bad. You practically dragged the man onto his feet, rushing out to your car to drive him to the hospital (an ambulance bill would only send him into a worse fit, you were sure).
As you drive, Peppino did his best to reassure you through the pain in his chest and the breathlessness in his lungs. Sure, he was scared too, shitless even! But he saw you struggling not to cry while you were driving and suddenly he wanted to push all his worries aside to tend to you.
It wasn't possible, but he did squeeze your hand and smile at you, if strained. And it kinda helped. A little.
You weren't straight up sobbing when you both arrived at the hospital, at least.
The nurses didn't let you follow him into the examination rooms. You had to wait in the lobby with everyone else, other anxious people awaiting news of their loved ones. They watched you pace a hole into the tiles, a few even joined you, if only to help ease their own stress.
Did it help? Not for you, but the others, maybe.
When a nurse finally called your name, you raced after her. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest and also not beating at all. Worst case scenarios flew through your head, horror stories of heart attacks and the suffering left in their wake.
You fretted, hardly able to feel the hand of the nurse on your shoulder, and wondered how Peppino was going to continue if this was well and truly something dangerous. It made you feel dizzy to think about. He didn’t deserve that! Not after everything! And-
“Hey,” the nurse called, and you snapped back into reality, “it’s okay. It wasn’t a heart attack.”
It took a moment for the words to process. But once they did, a tidal wave of relief flooded your body. Tears streaked down your cheeks, and you sobbed to her, so grateful to her as though she was the one who saved Peppino from a nonexistent heart attack.
She chuckled, patting your shoulder as she led you along. “It’s alright. It was just a pretty severe panic attack. He was hyperventilating, and that’s what cause all the symptoms. You did right bringing him here, though. He could’ve fainted and hurt himself pretty bad if he was alone.”
You nodded along. “How is he?”
“He’s recovered. We’ve given him some meds to help him relax, but I’d look into professional help for the future.” She passed you a card with various names scribbled on it. “It could help prevent panic attacks like these, or at least make them less severe.”
You nodded again and pocketed the note. That would be dealt with later. For now, all you wanted to do was see Peppino and smother him in kisses.
The room he was in was dimly lit. Peppino himself was laid out on a bed, eyes closed and breathing slow. A heart monitor next to him beeped quietly not to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.
“He’s been asking for you a bunch.” The nurse whispered to you, as you stood and just took in the sight of him alive and well. “The whole time, really. He wanted you to be there very badly, but sadly he can’t really hold your hand while we’re doing tests.”
You walked forward, another vague nod of your head all you replied with. Your heart ached to think he wanted you there as much as you wanted to be there for him, but such wasn’t the thing to dwell on. Instead, you sat in the chair already pulled up to his bedside and picked up the hand connected to an IV.
“Peppino.” You called, voice hushed and low. He sighed, but turned towards you, brows furrowing. “You asleep, hon?”
It took a moment, but Peppino blinked his eyes open. He focused on you, and you smiled. He smiled too, big and goofy and no doubt pleased to see you.
“Hey,” you said, squeezing his hand, “welcome back.”
He murmured some stuff in Italian from deep in his chest. It was hard to hear, so you just leaned in and peppered the side of his face in kisses. He practically purred.
“Ti amo.” He sighed, and that you understood.
“I love you.” You whispered back.
And you continued to kiss on him until the nurse finally told you it was time to go.
#don't tempt me pal i am an angst fiend you should see my other writing blog#i'll write practically anything angsty sans cheating#peppino spaghetti x reader#peppino x reader#pizza tower x reader#be aware this probably isn’t proper hospital procedure I just wrote what felt right
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