#AND HE EXPOSED HIS LONG HIDDEN TATTOO

[strangemagicc]

Muse | Part One

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pairings: modern!artist!Eddie x fem!Reader, classmates to lovers

summary: you laid there exposed, nipples perked and goose flesh blossoming on your skin. their eyes were watching you, studying the curve of your hips and the length of your legs but no gaze was as intense as his.

author’s note: this kinda got away from me but there’s just something about Eddie calling reader a good girl 🫠 I did my best to edit it so if there’s mistakes I apologize! Comments/reblogs are always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 5.5k

warnings: smutty smut smut, p in v, oral (reader and Eddie receiving), creampie, slight dom!Eddie, uhh praise kink if you squint

The room was cold, the walls white, a little medicinal. Light cascaded through the windows, hues of tangerine and gold creating a warmth against the expanse of your exposed flesh. Your head rested against your shoulder, arms pressed into the wooden stage below you, legs posed to the side elongating your body. You could feel their eyes on you, pensive and concentrated but you focused your gaze on the wall behind them. Studied the cracks in the plaster and the splatters of paint from classes before. The minutes ticked by, slow and tedious. You shifted your gaze to the left, eyes meeting intense chestnut. He smiled at you, small and polite before looking back at his canvas. Lines formed on his forehead, eyebrows raised high as he captured the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips. He was handsome, conspicuously so. Curly auburn hair tied into a low bun, black t-shirt clinging to the muscle of his tattooed arms. A walking canvas, perfect lines and shadows. Heat rose to your chest, blossomed in your cheeks and your breathing became more shallow. Your eyes darted away from him, back to the wall behind him and you remained focused refusing to linger a moment longer on the curve of his jaw or the cluster of freckles on his nose. Worried that he’d noticed you noticing him. Because you had noticed him plenty of times. On campus and in class. Sitting in the back of your art history sketching in his journal as the professor droned on and the minutes ticked by slowly. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, give you a smirk or a small wave to let you know that weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought. Each time heat would rise to your cheeks, eyes darting away. And you would be embarrassed if you hadn’t caught him just as fixated, just as hypnotized.

A timer began to beep alerting the class that you were due for a break, that your pose would change once you returned. You pushed off your hands, stretched your shoulders, and rolled your wrists before grabbing for your robe. The plush fabric was a welcomed comfort, cotton soft against your skin. Students talked amongst themselves, reviewing each other’s work, their creations of you but no one spoke directly to you. Over the last few months, you began modeling for the figure art class to make a few extra bucks, to make your way through college, and to get your own art degree. At first, it was awkward, you were unsure of yourself and how to place your body. Uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on you for an hour, studying the flesh of your stomach and the stretch marks on the curve of your ass. But it became easier, almost second nature to be bare in front of mostly strangers.

You continued stretching your neck as you walked towards your bag for a snack hidden in the depths of your purse. You needed something, your hunger nearly loud enough for those around you to notice. The granola bar was sweet against your lips, apple and cinnamon. A little stale from sitting in your cabinet too long. Still, you hummed as you devoured it, eyes closed and savoring each bite.

“That should be your next pose,” a deep voice stated from above you. You opened your eyes, chocolate brown looking back at you with a smirk. A whisper of a dimple on his cheek.

“What would you call it? Glutton?” You joked back, taking another bite to cover the way your breath hitched when you got a whiff of his cologne.

“Hmm, I was thinking ecstasy. Something about how your eyes roll whenever you take a bite seems fitting.” You chuckled at his words, heat blossoming in your chest at his sentiment. Ecstasy. He popped a grape into his mouth from the bag he was holding, thumb lingering on his lips as he eyed you. A mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he wiped his hand before reaching it out to shake yours, your eyebrows meeting with a crease at the gesture. Seemed a little formal after he’d already seen you naked. But still, you slipped your small hand into his much larger one, felt the calluses on his fingers and the ones against his palm as you introduced yourself. He smiled and repeated your name with a nod, your hand lingering in his as the two of you stared at each other in silence. You shook your head, a little dazed as though he had put a spell on you.

“Aren’t you in my art history class?” Eddie pushed a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his heels as he made small conversation.

“With Professor Blake?” You tilted your head watching as his eyes wandered down your frame and back again.

“Yeah, that guy. Always has a coffee stain somewhere.” You nodded along with his description, watched as he talked with his hands making gestures as he spoke mimicking Professor Blake’s mannerisms and the dribble of coffee he always had.

“That would be him,” you giggled again, wadding up the wrapper to your granola bar.

“How are you liking the class?”

“Something about art history makes me want to stab myself in the eye but otherwise it’s fine. Blubbering Blake makes it pretty entertaining, classmates are pretty cute,” he mused and kept his eyes trained on you. Your gaze fluttered, an abashed smile found a home on your lips. You cleared your throat as you tried to formulate a response.

“I think it would be more fun if we spent more time looking at the art while we listened to them drabble on. More than just slides y’know? I like to be immersed in it.” As though that weren’t obvious by your lack of clothes moments ago. Your nerves were ignited making you antsy, a little bit of a rambling mess.

“I feel the same way,” he gave you a thoughtful nod, “You can only see or understand so much from a lecture and it’s usually all from a PowerPoint anyways,” he shrugged, gaze lingering on yours. He was unabashed with his staring, the way his gaze wandered over the length of you.

“You know what I’m really excited to see?” He nodded for you to continue, crossing his arms as he listened. Your enthusiasm was evident, wide eyes and a huge smile.

“Yayoi Kusama, her exhibit is going to be in Philly.” His gaze changed, excitement building at your words.

“Seriously? Holy shit, I have to see that. I’ve been following her work for a while,”

“Well if you’re interested, I have an extra ticket for tomorrow. My friend bailed on me.” Your date had bailed but he didn’t need to know that. You shrugged your shoulder nonchalantly as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if this wasn’t your first conversation and you weren’t asking him to go out. As if you weren’t dying to end the night with him in your bed. 

“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” he nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Great,” you beamed, “it starts at eight if you want to meet there?” Eddie shook his head.

“Absolutely not, I’m picking you up. We can get dinner after.”

“This is sounding a little like a date, Eddie.” You teased him to hide the nervous butterflies that were unraveling at your center.

“I hope so,” he smiled at you fully, one you couldn’t help but return. The alarm went off letting you know that your break was over, that it was time for your final pose.

“Dinner sounds great,” you whispered over your shoulder as you walked back towards the makeshift stage and dropped your robe. Eddie shot you a wink, dimpled grin on full display as his gave traveled over you.

You clawed through your closet for the better part of an hour, your bedroom littered with rejects as you examined your reflection in the mirror. The black fabric of the short corduroy dress you’d decided on hugged you, accentuating the curve of your hips and ass. Your cleavage pressed into the fabric, the top button hanging on for dear life. You paired it with sheer black tights, a leather blazer, mary jane pumps, and a daring red lip. A little pop of color. You shook out your hair, teasing it with your hands for a little volume before sliding on your gold necklace and matching hoops. You felt cute, a little hot even, and winked at yourself in the mirror laughing at your own cringe before checking your texts to see one from Eddie that said he was on his way. Excitement filled you, a motley crew of butterflies swarming your abdomen as you anticipated his arrival and thought over your conversation, exchanging numbers after the class had ended. You’d thought about it since the day before, going about your routine with a little hum, a small smile and now the moment was here.

Eddie knocked at the door softly and straightened out his appearance as he waited for you. You smoothed out the lines of your dress, fixed your cleavage, and looked at your reflection in the hall mirror one last time before answering. His eyes widened, jaw slack as he looked at you. You were equally off guard, admiring his simple black button-down paired with black jeans that accentuated the curve of his thighs. He wore rings on either hand, big and intimidating. His hair hung at his shoulders instead of the bun you saw him in yesterday, a small chain tucked into his shirt. Eddie smelled like bergamot and sage, a hint of cinnamon from the gum he had been chewing.

“Y-you look stunning,” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he finally looked into your eyes. You melted under his gaze, flattered was too small of a word to describe how you felt under the intensity of his regard.

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you complimented, slightly entranced by the smell of his cologne.

“Flattery will get you anything, sweetheart,” he chuckled, hiding the redness of his cheeks as the two of you walked out of your apartment building. His hand stayed at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of hallways, down the elevator, and out the front door.

The fall night was chilly, a gentle breeze biting at your skin and you tucked yourself further into your blazer.

“Are you okay taking my motorcycle? If not I can get us a Lyft. I didn’t realize until I was on my way that I hadn’t mentioned it when I insisted on picking you up.” He grimaced.

“Let’s take your bike,” you assured him with a smile as the two of you walked in step. His bike was parked near your building, matte black and sleek. You let out a low whistle and walked ahead to get a good look at it.

“It’s so fucking nice,” you enthused, secretly always wanting a bike but knowing you could barely walk on two feet let alone ride on just two wheels.

“Thanks, got her this summer. Took her to the coast and some beaches. Was a pretty kick-ass time.” Eddie grabbed his helmet, adjusted the strap, and turned to you offering it.

“I don’t have an extra, don’t usually ride with a passenger,” he shrugged, “hopefully this will fit you.” He handed you the black helmet, matte to match his bike.

“Are you trying to say that I have a big head?” You scoffed playfully. His eyebrows shot up, devious. Like he didn’t want to be the one to tell you the truth that you were carrying a globe on your neck. You swatted at his shoulders playfully, a small giggle escaping.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he pretended to wince, rubbing his shoulder like it still stung all the while smiling broadly back at you.

“It was so implied in those eyebrows,” you pointed at them, drawing a little circle in the air in case he forgot where they were.

“They have a mind of their own,” he raised his hands as if he didn’t have an explanation and watched as you tugged the helmet on. It was tight against you, cheeks squeezed on the sides like your uncle used to.

“You might actually be right,” you grimaced, thinking of how unflattering the whole thing looked.

“I promise that’s how it’s supposed to fit,” he chuckled reaching over and adjusting the chin strap. Eddie tapped your head slightly, shot you another wink that went straight between your thighs. He was suave, annoyingly confident but it had you hungry. Wanting. He slipped his legs over the bike, the fabric of his jeans bunching around his thighs and you eyed the swell of his ass. Eddie chuckled at the directon of your gaze as he held his hand out for you, helping you onto the bike and instructing you to use his shoulders to get situated. The muscle flexed under your touch, solid. You wanted to glide your fingers along them, skim the hard muscle of his arms into his back.

“How you feeling back there?” He peeked over his shoulder at you.

“G-good,” you stammered placing your hands gently at his sides.

“You might want to hold on a little tighter.” He pulled your hands around his waist, and patted them gently after you interlocked your fingers.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better,” you nodded even though he was no longer looking. He took off, motorcycle vibrating beneath you. You pressed your face into his back, arms tight around his stomach as the wind whipped against you.

Eddie walked you to your door, palm on the small of your back, your body buzzing with the two margaritas you had over dinner and the warmth radiating from his touch. You weren’t drunk, just a little less wound tight. Nerves melted into oblivion. Inhibitions near nonexistent. The date was good, great even. You had thought of this moment all night, how to invite him in and if you were being too forward. If you’d read into how his hand dipped from the small of your back to the swell of your ass. If you imagined the hunger in his gaze that was mirrored in yours.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you beamed, back pressed into the wood of your door as you looked up at him. A little flirty, eyes batting. His brown eyes searched your face, settled on your bottom lip and he swallowed hard.

“I had a lot of fun too, thanks for inviting me.” He leaned a little closer, bergamot and cinnamon filling the small space between the two of you. His eyes darted back and forth between your gaze and the pout of your lips. Debating. You leaned closer, back leaving the surface of the door, the swell of your breasts brushing against his chest as you did. He crowded your space, pushing you gently back against the wood, one hand resting above your head and the other playing with the hem of your dress. You tried to seem unphased but the way you swallowed had you giving away how his touch affected you. Eddie dipped his fingers under the hem of your dress tracing the line of your upper thigh to the cheek of your ass. Teasing. Eyes darkening when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. Your hand moved up his chest, lightly scratching the exposed flesh until they were twined behind his neck, the sweet smell of your perfume making him hum. He wedged a leg between the two of yours, the sound of his boot heavy against the hallway floor, nose brushing yours as he leaned in watching your eyes flutter close. Eddie cupped your jaw, calloused thumb rubbing gently against your cheekbone, tracing a line to your bottom lip and pulling against it. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his other hand move further up your skirt, fingers digging into the doughy flesh. His breath was warm against your lips, a whisper above yours as he continued to tease you. You whined impatiently pulling him closer until his lips were pressed into yours. They were softer than you expected, plump against your own and you knotted your fingers into his curls. Pulling softly and eliciting a groan. He sucked your bottom lip, tongue sliding across asking for permission until you opened for him. Your tongues met in the middle, soft as they explored each other. Eddie’s hand cupped your jaw as the kiss deepened, his knee pressed between your thighs and you began to grind against him. Your clit rubbed against the rough material of his jeans making you shiver with the contact. You felt him twitch against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressed into you making you moan into his mouth. He pulled away from you, pupils blown, cheeks blushed crimson. He eyed your swollen lips, a question on the tip of his tongue but you beat him to it.

“We should go inside,” you stated between breathy sighs. Eddie nodded rapidly, swallowing roughly as he eyed your cleavage before you turned around and began digging for your keys, shuffling around your wallet and tubes of cherry lipgloss. He pressed kisses to the curve of your neck, tongue darting over the nipped flesh. Length hard against you, rutting into your ass. You were unable to concentrate, head tilting back as his palms created a path until they were cupping your breasts. Your hands stilled as he explored the heavy flesh.

“You better keep looking,” he instructed, teeth grazing your thrumming pulse. You nodded, chest heaving as you dug through your purse again, finally finding the keys. You pushed the door open with shaky hands, Eddie trailing behind you. You closed the heavy wood in a rush, breaths short as you kicked off your mary jane pumps. Your apartment was only illuminated by the light in your hallway, creating a shadow over Eddie’s strong jaw. You grazed a fingertip over the bone and he shuddered, eyes dark as he pushed you lightly against the door pressing rough kisses to your sternum. You reached for the buttons of Eddie’s shirt, fingernails grazing against the tattooed flesh as the material of the black button-up dangled open. He tilted your head back to get better access, kissing down your neck, your chest, and to the top of your breasts. Your skin was warm against his lips, flushed with the heat building between the two of you. He nipped at your cleavage, fingers starting to undo the buttons that lined the front of your dress, fumbling through them quickly until the material dropped open.

“Fuck,” he breathed a groan as he eyed you, fingers gliding over the flesh of your stomach and up your chest, pushing at the straps of your dress until it fell to the floor with a soft thud. You were nearly bare, standing in just your tights and your black lace bra. Goosebumps sprouted, a shuddered breath escaped your lips and he was on you. Rough kisses, all teeth and tongue. Hungry. Desperate. He groaned as he felt your perked nipples through your bra against his muscled chest, big hands finding purchase on the curve of your hips. He squeezed you firmly, flipping you around until your chest was pressed into the door. Eddie rubbed his hands over your ass, warmth radiating through the thin layer separating him from your bare skin.

“How attached to these tights are you?” He asked, voice gruff. He began sucking a sensitive spot behind your ear as he waited for your answer.

“N-not really,” you stammered, distracted. Needy. Eddie’s right hand cupped your breast wandering under the material of your bra. He squeezed at the nipple as his other hand left a blazing trail down your back and between your thighs. You were soaked, slick arousal making your tights stick to your folds. Eddie traced the outline of them with his finger, breath catching as he felt how wet you were.

“All of this because of me?” His voice was low, warm breath fanning your ear as he pressed into you. His cock twitched against your ass and you nodded at him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as you began grinding against him, hips wiggling against his hard length. He stilled your hips, fingernails digging into your skin creating crescent moons.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?” You nodded again, trying to press harder against him. To feel him against your clit. The friction you so desperately needed. Eddie smacked your ass, your moan grew louder. Needier. Enjoying the sting as his hand rubbed the covered flesh.

“You like that, baby?” Both his hands rubbed over the dough over your ass, against the seam of your tights, fingers digging until you heard a rip from the nylon and felt the air against the slick between your legs. Eddie gently pushed against your feet spreading your legs further apart, fabric ripped in half until the tights were two separate halves. He grabbed the fat of your ass spreading you apart bending on his knees behind you.

“Jesus fuck,” he moaned, swiping against your folds.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, finger dipping close to your cunt. “Is this all for me?” You nodded but he couldn’t see, gaze trained on how you glistened in front of him.

“I need to hear you, sweetheart,” his hand stilled and you whimpered.

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Make you cum with my tongue?” You nodded again, this time earning another slap against your ass. Your nipples pebbled at the contact, cunt gripping around nothing as your moan filled the space.

“I need you to tell me, pretty girl,” Eddie instructed, spreading you apart again.

“Please, please make me cum Eddie.” Your nails scrapped against the wood door, clawing at nothing as he teased your cunt with his thick finger. Thumb playing with your bundle of nerves. You felt his warm breath against your wet arousal and shivered, forehead pressing into the door as you bit your lip in anticipation. You were a second away from begging when you felt his tongue swipe against your folds. He groaned at your taste, lapping up your dripping arousal like a man starved. Your toes curled as he pressed further into you, head twisted so he could work your clit, thick fingers teasing your entrance. You wiggled your ass against his face, a silent plead and Eddie slipped a finger inside stretching you until he was knuckle deep. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot you had trouble reaching on your own. Your moans grew louder, reverberating off the walls of your apartment as you got closer to coming undone.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god,” your chest heaved, eyes squeezing tight as the rubber band inside you constricted. He added a second finger, tongue lapping at your juices as you began to constrict around him. You reached behind, fingers wrapping into his curls and holding his head to you. Your moans matching his pace. He sucked at your clit, your vision going white as the rubber band snapped and you came undone. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathy moans. Body shaking as the orgasm took over. His groans vibrated against your clit making you shudder and he savored every last drop, never slowing. Lapping at your juices. He slapped your ass again, your legs shaky as he left a trail of kisses up your spine and turned you around. You melted into his arms, looked at him with hooded eyes and saw the evidence of your climax coating his mouth. You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him deep and tasting your sweetness on his swollen lips.

“You taste so good baby, so sweet,” you bit at his bottom lip. Less shy, already hungry for more. To feel the delicious stretch of the hard length that had been pressing against you. You placed your hands on his chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. You pushed back gently, a silent command.

“It’s time for me to take care of you,” you guided him further into the apartment, gaze trained on his as you undid his belt and let it fall to the floor. Your hands worked the button of his jeans, nails brushing the hair that trailed into his pants and teasing the sensitive skin there. He looked at you with hooded eyes, stopping at the foot of your bed when you got down in front of him. Knees digging into the carpeted floor. You looked at him over your lashes, teeth biting into your lower lip as you took it slow. You pushed his jeans down his hips and he kicked them to the side watching as you grazed the ends of your nails against his legs, up the swell of his muscled thighs. Smiling when he shivered at the touch. You kissed his clothed length, hand massaging his balls, trailing kisses until you reached the tip. A patch on his boxers wet from pre-cum. You stroked him through the thin fabric, hand wrapping around his girthy cock as you dragged your palm from the base to his tip. He was big, bigger than you’d ever had, and you ached at the thought of stretching around him. You stood, hand still wrapped his length, and pushed him onto the bed. He spread his stance wide, brown eyes watching as you situated yourself between his legs, his chest rising and falling in short spurts. You palmed his thighs, finger grazing the spandex of his boxers and pulled them down watching as his cock sprang free. You bit your bottom lip as you eyed his length. He was thick, an angry vein lined the underside, pink head leaking with precum. You grabbed the base of him, tongue flat as you licked a line to his tip swirling over the top to collect the pearly liquid. You moaned at the taste of him, Eddie watching you with a hooded gaze and a shallow breath. You gathered spit, dribbling it down his tip until his head was slick and grazed your flat tongue against it.

“Oh fucking Christ,” his voice was ragged, fingers gripping your sheets as he felt you bob against his length, sucking his sensitive head with a loud pop as you eyed him. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head down his length, cock twitching as you attempted to take every inch. Mouth wide, saliva dripping on either side of your gaped mouth. Eddie tensed as he felt your throat constricting around him, swallowing. Taking him deep until you were gagging. He almost doubled over, veins in his hands at attention as he gripped your hair to try to maintain self-control.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long like this,” he admitted, head thrown back. A goner. You licked the underside of his cock one last time, giving his tip a little peck and crawled over his frame, nails scratching lightly across his chest. He looked at you with a heavy gaze, thumb wiping the saliva that dripped on your chin and back to your lips. You wrapped your plump lips around his thumb, tongue darting across it. A tease. His cock twitched underneath you as you wiggled on his lap. Needy. He removed his thumb, jaw agape as he watched. He leaned in, mouth connecting with yours and kissed you until neither of you could breathe. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, the kiss deepening as he swallowed your shaky gasps. Rubbing your arousal against his hard length. Sensitive clit throbbing with each swipe. You pulled away panting, eyes heavy with lust. Dazed.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped as he clung to you, his hands reaching up to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounced out and he kneaded the ample flesh, eyes fixated on your perked nipples.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed as he took one into his mouth, sucking. Nibbling. Watching as you keened at his touch. You reached beneath you and gripped him firmly, lining him up with your entrance and slowly began to sink down. He eased in easier but was still a stretch. You circled your hips pulling more of him in until your cunt was wrapped tightly around every inch of him. There was a dull ache where you were connected, stretching over his girth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your middle, eyebrows scrunched at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, fingers digging into your sides and likely to leave evidence of his touch. You adjusted to his length, breathless and stuffed full. Eddie pressed his nose to your neck as he held you, hissing as you lifted your hips off his lap. His cheeks were flushed pink, sweat beading on his chest. He moved his hands below your ass, kneading it and spreading you apart. You clenched around him as he spread you, both of you gasping at the sensation. Eddie helped ease you up, bringing you back down over his length. The sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room. His lips were back on yours and he swallowed your moans as you picked up the pace, hips creating circles whenever you reached his tip in a tease. He slapped your ass at every taunt of your hips, and you clenched with each contact of his hand against your butt cheek. He held you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your waist and began rutting into you. Balls slapping against you with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you screamed his name, rubber band threatening to snap inside you as he continued.

“Yeah, baby? Going to be a good girl and cum for me again?” You clenched at the nickname.

“Oh you like being called a good girl, don’t you sweetheart?” You nodded, unable to form a sentence or find the words. Only able to pant his name as he continued to stretch you.

“Make sure you ask me before you do,” he instructed, his hand reached between the two of you. His thumb found your clit and Eddie began rubbing it in mean circles. You jolted at the contact, your thighs a mess from your building release. Your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, scratching at the muscle as the pressure built.

“Please, Eddie, please let me cum?” You asked between heavy breaths, vision turning white as the climax built.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a good girl,” he hummed watching as your head tilted and your eyes rolled, pussy fluttering around his length as the rubber band snapped. You could feel the climax throughout your body, goosebumps forming on the skin of your arms as Eddie continued to pump into you. Overstimulated, tears brimming your eyes as your sensitive cunt was stretched.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to cum,” his hips sputtered as he bucked into you with one final thrust. His nails digging into the fat of your ass, his cock twitching as he came. He pumped you full, walls painted with his release. Eddie held you, hands less firm and rubbing soft circles where he dug into your skin. He pecked your bare chest, lips sliding over your breasts, up your sternum and to your neck. Softer. Sweeter. He found your lips and kissed you with a saccharine grin. Curly bangs sticking to his forehead. You looked at him closely, his face smeared with the red of your lipstick and you giggled at the mess. He raised a curious brow as you began to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess out of you,” you teased.

“I think I’m the one who should be apologizing,” and you could feel the mix of yours and his release running down your thighs. Your hearts were beating rapidly, your hands splayed on the muscle of his chest and something about his gaze made you suddenly shy. You hid in his chest, planting sweet kisses along his pecs. Eddie tilted your chin.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he lifted you gently, placing you beside him on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss before venturing down the hall to find the restroom. You listened as he grabbed a washcloth, the sound of the water running, and the soft pads of his feet as he returned. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over your sensitive cunt, cock twitching at your gasps. He tossed the damp cloth into the hamper and watched you, admired the outline of your frame.

“I want to draw you just like this,” he remarked, eyes tracing over your frame. Breathing beginning to return to normal, hitching every time you met his gaze. You covered your mouth as you giggled.

“Like one of your French girls, Jack?”

“If you’ll let me, Rose,” he leaned over, teeth grazing your lower lip and you gasped. Returning the affection with a dart of your tongue, sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned, the length of his cock hardening with each pass of your lips against his.

“Maybe another time,” you suggested between kisses, and he nodded already pushing you further up the bed.

-

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[pinkhoneydrop]

Please…Mr. Ghostface

[ A/n ] - please be warned this is 18+ but please enjoy : )

[ Pairing ] - Boyfriend!Harry x Reader!

[ Genre ] -  smut

Y/n comes home to a gift wrapped box from Harry and what’s inside might be worth a scream or two

[ Masterlist ]

“Don’t move another inch.” Harry sat at the edge of the bed with his hands resting between his spread knees. He stared at you through the mesh of the mask he wore. It was his idea. Role play was never your thing but if the masks had anything to do with it you could get into it.

“Get down, on your knees.” His voice was so strong. So deep like he was speaking with lust behind every word. You came into the bedroom after your shower thinking you were going to be getting ready for dinner. You we’re instead greeted with a pristine white box with a note written on top.

“Crawl for me.”

When you opened the box all you found was a brand-new lingerie set. The Lacey bra on the top. And the lacy bottoms on the second layer. And the mask sat underneath the last layer of parchment paper. You took in a sharp breath as you lifted it up and read the second note attached “I’ll be ready for you, and I want you to be ready for me.”

“Yes, Mr. Ghostface.”

You had to stop yourself from moaning audibly when you saw him sitting waiting for you to get ready. Dressed in all black clothes that you set out for him to wear to dinner.  A black button down that hugged his arms exactly right when he had the sleeves rolled up like you like. Exposing his tattoos that you were running your hands over right now as you sat panting at his feet. Black slacks held up by a glossy black belt that were tight around his thighs and of course we can’t forget the mask. His cherry on top that you couldn’t wait to pop. It took everything in him to keep composure as he watched you crawl across the floor for him. Your ass looks impeccable in the black lace and the bra fit your tits perfectly.

Harry almost let out a whine because of the look you were giving him. Your perfect little face perched on his thigh. Your fingers danced around his belt buckle. Your eyes looked at him like you were asking permission. He nodded up and down letting you know it was okay. A deep sigh left his lips as you unbuckled and unzipped his pants. His dick had been growing in his pants since he saw you dressed in the doorway.

Your hands were warm as they reached past the waist band of his boxer briefs. You were practically drooling when you took it out of the confines. He was pretty and his dick was nothing less. A long shaft and pink as his lips at the tip.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t keep it in the anticipation was too much. Harry let out a strangled moan as you kissed the tip. You smirked as you slicked a strip up from the base to the tip leaving another kiss at the tip. “Fuck, baby.” Harry said as you palmed him in your hands.

He groaned as you bobbed your head. You pull off with a soft popping sound. Tilting your head to the side you lick up the side of his member. As you reach the top you look up to meet Harry’s gaze. His eyes were hidden but that didn’t stop you from looking though. He was so handsome. You imagined how His eyelashes would dance across his cheeks as his pupils darted back and forth even when his eyes were closed. Even when his expression was impossible to see you could tell he was enjoying himself from the moaned he let sip freely from his lips. Feeling a little bold you took him in your mouth again. You bobbed your head again and you took him as far as you could.

“Fuck baby, just like that.”  Harry moved his hands down to your head. He wrapped his hand in to your hair as you lowered your mouth on to him. As he hit the back of your throat you gagged causing him to moan.

“Oh, that’s it. Keep going.”

You gagged around his cock once more and then lifted your head. You release your mouth around the tip with a pop. Looking up at Harry you tilt your head and kiss the wrist of the hand that was retreating from your hair. A smile briefly crosses his lips, and they bump against the mask. It took you no time at all to resume bobbing your head up and down his length. You lifted up to kiss the tip and then went down to suck on his balls. You gotta stop.

“Stop, Stop!” Harry put some feeling into his voice as he gripped your wrist to stop you from stroking his dick.

“I have so much more planned for you darling.” Harry stood and looked at you from the ground; he reached out and caressed your face with his fingers.

 “Over there, y/n” Harry nodded over to the dresser where he wanted to have you. He spoke like he was commanding you and all you wanted was to obey. You looked at him from your spot on the bedroom floor. You stood before him in nothing but your bra and underwear set.   When you moved, Harry moved as well. The two of you were in perfect sync. He stood close and his breath hit the edge of the mask making a menacing sound as he loomed over your face as if he was going to kiss you. You looked deep into the dark pits of the mask trying to see his eyes. His hand slipped around your neck. Your breath cut short, and a soft whine left your lips as you stared into the mask.

         “Who do you belong to?”

         His voice was unwavering as he spoke to you. You couldn’t help but smirk as he tightened his grip on you and squeezed your neck a bit harder. Your lips parted and your jaw loosened as his grip hardened.

         “Don’t make me ask twice, baby you know I hate that. A good slut uses her words.”

         The silence in the room built up and it scratched at Harry’s brain as he watched you. Tears welled up in your eyes and your hand reached up to rest on top of his. His hand fell from your neck, and you took a sharp breath. You had made a mistake. Looking away from him and leaving the smirk on your face pulled him back into the moment.

         A hard smack met your ass cheek, the flesh stung. With one hand on your hip and one on your shoulder he moved you, so you were bent over the dresser. His hands moved to grip your hands and hold them behind your back. That mask was something else. Transforming your loving man into a domination machine.  Harry huffed as he bent over to speak in your ear. He lifted his head and yours, so you were looking at each other. Your hair fell into your eyes a bit, but you focused enough to see the reflection.

         “Are you going to behave now?” He chuckled as you whined again.

         “Yes” your chest was pressed into the wood of the dresser as Harry pinned you down with his weight. Your deep breaths made your cleavage rise and fall dramatically. Harry tilted his masked face as he spoke again.

         “Yes what?” His voice was firm and rough as he pressed into your back. You moaned as he grinded himself against you.

         “Yes…Mr. Ghostface”

A smile etched its way across Harry’s lips under the mask after hearing you. With his own leg he kicked your legs apart. Sitting up harry laced his fingers under the fabric of your underwear. He tugged and pulled at the clothing until they fell down on your legs just enough to expose you.

“Please.” You cried out. Harry could see you were getting desperate, so he glided his fingers close to your clit without touching it. You squirmed trying to get him to touch you were you wanted but this wasn’t about you right now. He wanted to see how far he could push you. See how much you would put up with.

“Shh, just relax.” Harry spoke low as he lifted a hand and rubbed lightly against your back. You shivered as his fingers danced across the skin and then you felt two of his fingers slipping against you just past your nerves. They stretched into you, and you moaned so softly that Harry barely heard it.

You were heating up if you were being honest with yourself. A pit formed in your lower stomach and his teasing was doing nothing but making it ache. Something about the mask and how he was roughly handling you sent shockwaves through your body. You were bent over the dresser with your bra on and your underwear halfway down your legs and your boyfriends’ fingers inside of you. Moving his hand, Harry eased his middle finger inside you again. You felt him pump them in and out over and over. The slickness between your thighs spreading as the anticipation caught up to you.  You laid your face down on the cool wood of the dresser as you waited for what was to come next.

“Stand up for me.” You sighed as you felt his fingers leave you, but you obeyed. Standing up you looked at yourself in the mirror. Sweat began to form on your temples and on your chest but before you could say anything harry was whipping you around to face him. He stood so tall in front of you. You trembled with excitement as he lowered onto his knees in front of you and moved to grip your calf.  After removing your underwear Harry lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. It had to be a sin the way you almost melted at the sight of him in that position. Fingers glistening still from being inside you and your leg resting on his shoulder as he wore that black and white mask. Harry wasted no time in lifting your other leg to rest on his other shoulder as well. Did he know you would be able to stand once he was finished with you?

“Here let me help.” You reached down between your legs and lifted his mask so that his mouth was free. You were met with a menacing smile and a kiss to your wrist.

“The things that I am going to do to you, baby.” Harry breathed out against your navel.  His fingers gripped the flesh of your thighs, and they wandered lower until he got to the place you needed him. Your breaths were uneven as you anticipated what he would do. Harry pushed the mask out of the way giving him a nice view of you. He spread your lips apart with his middle and index finger. A moan escaped your perfectly shaped lips when you felt his slender fingers, he glided a finger over your clit working you up and you tilted your head back in pleasure. He poked his tongue out and licked at you causing you to take in a sharp breath. Harry took that a sign to keep going and began to suck you into his mouth and prod at you until you were a mess underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed when Harry sucked particularly hard.

“Oh god.” You moaned out. Your face flushing as Harry continued, licking from your entrance to your clit. He teased you like this until you couldn’t keep still. A knot formed in your belly. Harry finally gave in and sucked your clit into his mouth swiping his tongue over the sensitive spot till you were panting like you just ran a marathon. The warmth you felt as Harry’s tongue was on you was incredible. You bucked your hips into his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth once more. His lips pulsing around the nerves making you cry out.

“Please Mr. Ghostface.”

Your hands tugged mercilessly at his mask. Harry moved one hand and used two fingers to help bring you to your release as he hummed against your clit.  Harry thought that the two of you could stay like this forever. Pleasuring one another until all the time in the world was exhausted and nothing was left but the pair of you. Harry was everything to you and you would do anything for him but right now in this moment with your man between your thighs sending you to another dimension with his tongue you knew he would do anything for you.

“Mmm…” Harry let out a loud groan when you tugged on the exposed strands of his hair. A smirk shaped your face as you looked down to see two eyes staring back at you. He smirked and sucked your cum off his fingers. Harry’s eyes bared a challenging glance as he stood up. His hands returned to your thighs, and he held you close as you lowered the mask back down. You rested your hands behind his neck, and he pulled you away from the dresser.

Harry crossed the bedroom in just seconds. Long legs striding across the ground until the two of you reached his desired destination. The first thing that was remedied was your bra. After tossing you into the mattress he reached behind you with one hand and undid the clasp expertly. Harry to a second to appreciate how lucky he was to have you so gloriously naked in front of him.

“I need to fix this.” Harry spoke while you looked up at him from your spot on the bed. You weren’t sure what he meant until he moved you himself. His hands were rough has he flipped you over and pulled your hips up. You heard shuffling behind you and felt the mattress dip as Harry took the spot behind you. His slacks were pushed down just below his bottom and his shirt was unbuttoned allowing his skin to press directly into yours. A moan left both of in unison as he rubbed his tip along your slit and rubbed your clit with the end of his length. Your hips twisted as he kept rubbing against you. And then Harry thrusted in with no mercy. His hand was pressing to your back to deepen the arch.

         “Ohm shit, right there.” You whined. Harry grunted and shifted his hips. He would be damned if you were going to do this to him. He picked up the pace and began drilling into you. Felling your stomach get tight you reached back to find your clit, but Harry slapped it away with his. You felt his fingers find your clit and rub into it.

“Fuck Harry, I want to cum so bad.” Harry immediately stopped. His hips stilled and his finger froze.

“What did you just say?”

“Please…Mr. Ghostface.”

“that’s what I though.” It was as though he went into hyper drive. His fingers and hips resumed in double time and your body began slipping forward. Harry abandoned your clit to yank you hips back in place. You practically screamed as his pace didn’t slow. “Come for me baby.” He said in your ear and instantly your body shuddered as your orgasm hit you. Having not cum yet Harry continued to thrust into you.

“Please…it’s too much.” You whined. At this point Harry was just chasing his own orgasm. His hips kept ramming into yours as he sank in and out. One hand left your hip and snatched the mask off his head, and it landed on the pillow beside your head.

“I’m almost done princes.” Harry forced out. You moaned in response as his thrusts fell out of rhythm. A second orgasm close because of the over-stimulation. You tightened your core and Harry moaned at the feeling.

 His body slid down on top of you, and you tried turning to face him. Harry graciously leaned back and maneuvered your legs so he could see your face. There he was in all his glory leaning over you. Looking into your eyes he smirked and kissed your lips softly. You giggle as some of his hair fell in your face. His hands trailed up your body and he placed a Kiss to your nipple. You keen into Harry’s touch as he brushes his thumb across the other one grazing your nipple. You grind your hips into his to create friction between yourselves. Your actions elect a soft groan from Harry. Pulling him closer you moaned something incoherent into his ear.

“W-what?” Harry says as he slowed his pace down completely. Harry didn’t know what to think of what you said. You groaned as he dragged against you.

“I said, come inside. Please.” Your voice hoarse from screaming out before. Harry wasted no time after you said it again. His Hips resumed a steady rocking, and he was close to finishing. A grunt left his mouth before he thrusted back into you and released. The feeling sending you over the edge and another shudder runs through your body. Not even bothering to move out of the way you let Harry collapse on top of you.

“I think I’m going to keep that mask for next year.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x black!reader #hslot 2023 #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

[portgasmalia]

HELLO!!! I don't usually send reqs but I had to get this out of my system... (thank you in advance if you write something out of this :)))

I hc that Law designed/inked his own tattoos (what can this man not do??) and when reader figures this out, she wants a tattoo similar to the one on law's chest…. but over her breasts.

law agrees but its hard for him to focus when your entire upper-body is exposed during the process... you know what i mean?? 🤭

ʚ 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘 ɞ | trafalgar d. law

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: trafalgar d. law i & fem!reader 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nsfw content (mdni), implied smut, naked breasts, staring which comes off a little perv 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: so, i have tattoos, and i would let law give me one any given second of the day. here i thought about getting law's death tattoos those past days haha. so, i placed it around the collarbones and the last little peak of the heart would be in the valley of the breasts.

seated patiently on one of the stools in law's office, you started to pull the fabric of the thin shirt over your heart. trafalgar law's back was turned in your direction as he prepared the last lines of the template for the tattoo. a design, you wished for badly and one, he knew how to draw perfectly. when he walked around the polar tong with his coat opened, presenting the ink that covered his tanned and toned body, you almost felt a pinch of jealousy. finding out, a couple of weeks later, that he was the one who literally drew them and decorated the different parts of his body as well, you immediately asked him for one.

what law not expected when he agreed, was the very uncommon position and that you wanted a replica of what he wore on his chest. the heart with the smiling face of his jolly roger in the middle. "do you want me to remove my bra too?" you asked, so innocently, making the situation worse. seated on the stool, in the middle of his office room, waiting for him to touch your soft skin around your breasts while inking his tattoo into you, it caused feelings in law. feelings, he could not understand. "guess so, or it won't stretch out towards your collarbones,"

"oh but i want it to be really wide and end in the valley between my boobs," you stated, showing the directions and placements with your fingers while the doctor forced himself to not look at your longer than a second. any gaze, which lingered too long on your exposed breasts, the hardened buds due to the temperature change under the deck, he would lose himself. not completely but painfully slow until giving in to the sweet desire of ravishing you. "alright," he held the template between his slender fingers, turning around and walking towards you.

and hell, you looked even better undressed than the drawings in his thoughts could ever create. sweet curves, smooth skin, and that cursed smile of yours, which cast a spell over his being all the time. "let's get started, this will take a couple of hours to finish." law took a seat opposite of you, holding up the thin piece of paper in front of your chest, and hesitating. he hesitated to touch your skin in such inappropriate places, and inhaled deeply. " can you like, place it yourself with the help of the mirror over there?"

eyes hidden underneath the mess of black strands and the brim of his beloved, white hat. the shadows casted over the upper half of his face saved the stoic captain from being seen with a tint of crimson red across the span of his cheeks. the situation made it difficult to think straight, or at least focus on the main reason behind being in such a scene. “why? is something wrong?” you questioned a second later, innocence written across your face and sweetness twisted in your features.

as if your naked chest wasn’t enough to push him closer to overstepping the set boundary, your glances and naive behavior became torture. those sweet, dilated doe eyes awakened an unexplainable instinct in the captain. something that increased his primal desire of wanting to touch her, and blemish her soft skin. “it’s nothing,” law commented, holding the template towards her.

“i think it’s better if you place it, i don’t want to do anything wrong,” you admitted, shaking your head carefully and pressing your chest further forward. an allowance to touch her breasts without having to say a word. “shit,” law muttered underneath a deeply frustrated groan before scooting closed. eyes at the same height as her hardened buds, his mouth watered at the sight.

carefully, he placed the tip of the heart between her breasts, fingertips pressing the template against her soft skin. it didn’t bother him, the worst part was how his hands wandered across the swell of her breasts and along her collarbone, making sure the thin paper with the most important outlines was sticking to her skin. “your touch is so soft,” you muttered, focused on how carefully and slowly his tattooed fingers moved around her chest, always avoiding go touch her breasts directly.

what you couldn’t see, was how trafalgar law inhaled and exhaled deep breaths, attempting to keep them steady enough to get through the session without ravishing you completely. afterwards he couldn’t promise did anything.

credits go to portgasmalia.

#one piece #one piece imagine #opla x reader #one piece thirst #opla #one piece headcanons #opla headcannons #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #one piece smut #op smut #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d law imagine

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: my fav little hater was upset about my post getting interactions again so they flagged it to be incorrectly labeled, meaning it's hidden from the majority of people so repost time! there is no mature content in this chapter, suck it. based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your back and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no cool air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again.He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred–with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through the wall. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 

#tattoo artist!eddie munson x apprentice!reader #tattoo artist!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #he's older than me so im counting it #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #bimbo!reader #eddie munson x bimbo!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Between the Lines

[sabokunsmalia]

ʚ 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘 ɞ | trafalgar d. law inking you his tattoo.

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: trafalgar d. law & fem!reader 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nsfw content (mdni), implied smut, naked breasts, staring which comes off a little perv 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: so, i have tattoos, and i would let law give me one any given second of the day. here i thought about getting law's death tattoos those past days haha. so, i placed it around the collarbones and the last little peak of the heart would be in the valley of the breasts.

seated patiently on one of the stools in law's office, you started to pull the fabric of the thin shirt over your heart. trafalgar law's back was turned in your direction as he prepared the last lines of the template for the tattoo. a design, you wished for badly and one, he knew how to draw perfectly. when he walked around the polar tong with his coat opened, presenting the ink that covered his tanned and toned body, you almost felt a pinch of jealousy. finding out, a couple of weeks later, that he was the one who literally drew them and decorated the different parts of his body as well, you immediately asked him for one.

what law not expected when he agreed, was the very uncommon position and that you wanted a replica of what he wore on his chest. the heart with the smiling face of his jolly roger in the middle. "do you want me to remove my bra too?" you asked, so innocently, making the situation worse. seated on the stool, in the middle of his office room, waiting for him to touch your soft skin around your breasts while inking his tattoo into you, it caused feelings in law. feelings, he could not understand. "guess so, or it won't stretch out towards your collarbones,"

"oh but i want it to be really wide and end in the valley between my boobs," you stated, showing the directions and placements with your fingers while the doctor forced himself to not look at your longer than a second. any gaze, which lingered too long on your exposed breasts, the hardened buds due to the temperature change under the deck, he would lose himself. not completely but painfully slow until giving in to the sweet desire of ravishing you. "alright," he held the template between his slender fingers, turning around and walking towards you.

and hell, you looked even better undressed than the drawings in his thoughts could ever create. sweet curves, smooth skin, and that cursed smile of yours, which cast a spell over his being all the time. "let's get started, this will take a couple of hours to finish." law took a seat opposite of you, holding up the thin piece of paper in front of your chest, and hesitating. he hesitated to touch your skin in such inappropriate places, and inhaled deeply. " can you like, place it yourself with the help of the mirror over there?"

eyes hidden underneath the mess of black strands and the brim of his beloved, white hat. the shadows casted over the upper half of his face saved the stoic captain from being seen with a tint of crimson red across the span of his cheeks. the situation made it difficult to think straight, or at least focus on the main reason behind being in such a scene. “why? is something wrong?” you questioned a second later, innocence written across your face and sweetness twisted in your features.

as if your naked chest wasn’t enough to push him closer to overstepping the set boundary, your glances and naive behavior became torture. those sweet, dilated doe eyes awakened an unexplainable instinct in the captain. something that increased his primal desire of wanting to touch her, and blemish her soft skin. “it’s nothing,” law commented, holding the template towards her.

“i think it’s better if you place it, i don’t want to do anything wrong,” you admitted, shaking your head carefully and pressing your chest further forward. an allowance to touch her breasts without having to say a word. “shit,” law muttered underneath a deeply frustrated groan before scooting closed. eyes at the same height as her hardened buds, his mouth watered at the sight.

carefully, he placed the tip of the heart between her breasts, fingertips pressing the template against her soft skin. it didn’t bother him, the worst part was how his hands wandered across the swell of her breasts and along her collarbone, making sure the thin paper with the most important outlines was sticking to her skin. “your touch is so soft,” you muttered, focused on how carefully and slowly his tattooed fingers moved around her chest, always avoiding go touch her breasts directly.

what you couldn’t see, was how trafalgar law inhaled and exhaled deep breaths, attempting to keep them steady enough to get through the session without ravishing you completely. afterwards he couldn’t promise did anything.

#one piece #op law #opla #opla cast #opla fanfiction #opla imagine #opla smut #opla x reader #opla x y/n #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece x you #one piece fluff #one piece headcannons #female reader #x reader

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 • RORO RIQUELME

summary. your brother’s annoying teammate is hard to resist when he shows off his tattoos.

warnings. smut, oral (fem receiving), weed, alcohol, and griezmann!reader.

a/n. finally wrote for my starboy. based off trust by bad gyal!

ever since you moved to madrid over ten years ago the city had managed to take you by surprise every one of those years. this year was no exception due to the high heat every day. it was a wonder you hadn’t run back home to france already. and somehow your brother had managed to throw a successful pool party with all of his teammates showing up. unfortunately, he had decided to host it in your house claiming that you had a better pool when in reality he just didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath.

you close the book you’re trying to read but you can’t make it past the first page as the sun blazes on your skin. beads of sweat form on your body for the simply act of sitting outside. you just hope that in this misery you can’t at least get a good tan. although, that thought doesn’t last long as you’re soon drenched in your own margarita. the cold drink making your exposed skin shiver. you look up locking eyes with the culprit. roro approaches you slowly with an unbuttoned t-shirt, exposing his hidden tattoos.

“shit. don’t tell antoine.” he picks up the football not even offering an apology.

“is he that scary?” you tease him.

“no he isn’t but your tantrums are.” he smirks at his words.

you look up at him making sure to cover your eyes from the sun in the process. his sudden change in demeanor interests you and you find yourself drawn to him. he’s always tried his best to get under your skin despite knowing who your brother was. he didn’t care and you admired that. carefully you place your hand on his chest slowly dragging it down until it’s placed on his rib cage tattoo.

“i’d be careful if i were you, roro. don’t forget who my brother is. better put that mouth to better use.” you offer him a smile.

“doesn’t it suck?” he places his hand on top you’re stopping it from wandering off even lower. “being second to your brother always? you can’t even threaten me without bringing him up because in reality no one cares about you. some people don’t even know you exist.”

this time you’re the one left speechless and not because of his words, in truth you didn’t care what anyone said about you, but because he’d finally been able to use cruel words to defend himself. he’s always held back never once trying to get into your bad graces. maybe it was the humid weather that made him not care anymore.

the party continued with countless plastic cups being thrown around the yard and countless splashes could be heard one after the other. yet you found yourself analyzing the brunette in the pool. fully shirtless now allowing you a view of his back tattoos. you would’ve never guessed he’d be one to ink himself by the innocent smile he wore everyday.

unbeknownst to you, your actions didn’t go unnoticed. paddy, marco’s wife, had noticed how your eyes kept wandering off to the brunette. she had tried inviting you on a brand trip for the fifth time and you’d changed the subject for a fifth time.

“i mean look at him! everyone thinks he’s this innocent little guy but he isn’t. what an asshole!” you ranted to her as she drank from her mojito.

“fuck him.” she muttered tired of him being the topic of conversation.

“exactly. if only everyone else could see what a horri-”

“no. fuck him.” she rolled her eyes.

“what?” you turned towards her trying to find out the meaning behind her words.

“it’s clear you want to sleep with him and he probably wants to as well. so do it. get it over with! i can’t hear you complain about him one more time.” she sighs.

“you can’t possibly be serious paddy?” you scoff.

“i’m never been so serious about something in my life. i’ve had hate sex with marcos all the time and it’s arguably the best sex i’ve had in my life.” she continues drinking her mojito as if what she had just said was the most normal thing ever.

“do it or some other girl at this party will.” is the last thing she says to you before she wanders off looking for her husband.

the sun is soon replaced by the moon as the hours go on and it seems your brother’s party has only grown in size. you hope your brother is sober enough tomorrow to clean after his mess because you sure wouldn’t be doing anything. your brother is lucky he lives retired from the city so you don’t get any noise complaints as the music blasts through the backyard. it’s the perfect atmosphere for a get together and a perfect atmosphere for paddy’s suggestion.

you carry your drink inside careful to avoid any spillage. you analyze everyone hoping to find the brunette and when you do you head directly towards him with no hesitation. you’re so close to him when you trip, accidentally of course, and your drink lands all over his white button down shirt. you stand up quickly looking quite concerned and confused.

“fuck i didn’t mean to sorry.” you murmur the last bit feigning innocence because you absolutely meant to spill your drink all over him. “you can borrow one of antoine’s shirts.”

“it’s fine.” he mumbles clearly annoyed at what just occurred.

“no, i’ve been mean. it’s the least i could do.” you offer a truce.

he analyzes your face for any hint of malice but doesn’t find any. a part of him wants to take your offer of help but the other part is still hesitant. ultimately he decides he doesn’t want to walk around with a wet and sticky shirt for the rest of the night. he sighs before agreeing. you quickly grab his hand before he can say anything and drag him towards the spare room.

“this one or this one?” you hold up two button downs. one is a bright shade of baby blue and the other a plain white one similar to the one you had ruined.

he chooses the baby blue button down not waiting another minute to change into it. he rushes causing two packets and a heavier material to fall out of his pockets. quickly he tries to retrieve them before you see them but you’re faster. you let out a loud exaggerated gasp at the sight of the pills and vape.

“you? no way.” you almost laugh at how surprising he was. first the tattoos, then the attitude, and now this. he was truly unpredictable. “don’t you have to take doping tests?”

“who do you think gets me cleared before matches?” he asks as he grabs the pills and the vape from your hand. although, you manage to take the vape back noticing what it contained. you inhale.

“my brother.” you exhale causing the smoke to invade his face. “does he give you the weed too?”

“just give it back.” he holds his hand out waiting for you to comply.

you obviously don’t choosing to sit on the bed instead taking another puff. your movements cause your black sarong to move up your legs giving him quite the sight. it was a shame that you were so attractive because you were equally as annoying. and if you weren’t your brother’s sister rodrigo would’ve tried to at least attempt a move on you. but because you were so determined tonight you’d make sure he would.

he walks towards you hoping to take his personal belongings back. after all he’s stronger more agile he should be able to snatch them away from you. but he forgets that you’re faster and every time he tries to reach for them he only ends up dangerously close to your body. you notice he never managed to button up his shirt and his rib cage tattoo is once again exposed to you. you place your hand on it knowing it’s your one chance to get what you want.

“what does it mean?” you look up at his brown eyes finding them already staring right at you.

“what are you doing?” he sighs frustrated at your weird antics.

“nothing.” you answer simply.

there’s a short pause between the two of you with silence filling the air. the two of you are practically chest to chest and you’re so close to getting what you want. what you need. you act first kissing him. after all you could blame it on the drugs in case this ends up being a huge mess. you expect him to pull away but he does the complete opposite grabbing your jaw as he deepens the kiss. they say it’s always the silent ones and he confirms those rumors.

your hands find themselves in his curls tugging on the strands as he leaves wet kisses along your jaw. meanwhile his hand finds it’s way around your throat pulling you closer to him as the two of you roughly kiss. it’s the opposite of gentle, what you enjoy. you gain the confidence to drag your hand down his bare chest all the way to the hem of his shorts when he stops you by grabbing your hand.

“what are you playing at?” he steps away from you. once again analyzing you and your facial expressions trying to figure out why you wanted to sleep with him.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about roro.” you say his nickname so sweetly and somehow also seductively.

“bullshit. one minute you’re threatening me and the next you’re all over me. you couldn’t get anyone else to sleep with you?” he asks in a more serious tone. you enjoy the view of a shirtless heated roro.

“i didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. but if you don’t want to then i’ll guess i’ll have to find someone else.” you begin to stand up.

you’re immediately pushed back down by the midfielder shocked at the force. it somehow turns you on even more.

“then say it.” he demands.

“say what?” you look up at him.

“that you want to fuck me. say it.” he demands once again.

“roro…” you brings your hands up his torso and wrap them around his neck locking eyes with him as you bring him closer to you once again. “i want you to fuck me.”

that’s all it takes to push him off the edge and his lips are once again on yours. the kisses are rough and quick and you find yourself tugging on his bottom lip to provoke him even more. it’s all so sensual like a scene on television. his hands roam your body ultimately landing on your ass as the two of you gravitate towards each other. you can feel his hard on against the fabric of your swimsuit. you’re pretty sure he can feel your growing arousal as he begins to grind himself against your clothed core.

you don’t wait another second in taking off his shirt allowing a perfect view of his forming biceps and his tattoos. it’s almost unfair how long he’s been hiding himself. you’re keen on making sure this happens again. so you proceed to flip the two of you over ending up in his lap. the new angle allowing you to see his face perfectly. you hate how pretty he looks and how he’s basically forbidden fruit. the aching in your core continues to grow and you realize you have to do something about it.

“fuck, roro. touch me.” you practically beg.

you’re answered with a smirk at first but he obliges bringing his hand to your lower body. he’s moving his hand as slowly as possible, teasing you, and you’ve had enough. you placed your hand on top of his dragging it to where you need it the most. he moves your sarong to have better access to your core, taking off the bottom part of your swimsuit in the process. you continue to guide his fingers to your folds.

“fucking hell.” he groans as he feels your wetness.

he starts slowly rubbing circles along your folds which instantly brings you pleasure. his movements cause you to let out loud moans which he quickly tries to silence by kissing you. the last thing he needed was anyone walking in on the two of you. as he kisses you he continues to spread your wetness. he decides that’s enough foreplay and drags one of his fingers towards your hole.

“can i?” he asks you wanting to make sure you’re still okay with what’s going on.

“please.” you murmur.

he enters you slowly making sure you adjust to the intrusion. you cling onto his arms at the new sensation, holding back a moan as he stretches you out. it’s almost embarrassing how much he’s been able to surprise you in the span of a couple of hours. he wraps his arm around your waist to help you adjust and keep you grounded. you reach up for him again kissing him as he begins to pump his finger inside of you. it’s such an intimate moment and he’s been able to comfort you more than any other guy you’ve slept with before.

“fuck, more.” you practically beg.

he obliges inserting another finger instantly groaning at how you clench around him. you squeeze his fingers so tight he swears he could cum in his boxers. the way you look under him doesn’t help him either. he’d always admired you except for your attitude but now that he had you he couldn’t give you up. your moans also encourage him to go faster wanting to pleasure you in the best way possible. he can only think about you right now and the way his fingers feel inside of you.

“so close roro.” you murmur. your nails digging deeper into his biceps.

then out of nowhere the building up orgasm inside you disappears as his fingers leave you. you’re about to yell at him when you see him kneel.

“do you trust me?” he asks suddenly.

“yes.”

his fingers are soon replaced by his tongue. the sight of his curls in between your legs alone make’s your pleasure build up again. as he laps up your juices your fingers find their way into his hair pulling him even closer to your core. it doesn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to unfold and soon you’re orgasming on his tongue.

“what the fuck roro.” you say shocked.

instead of responding he simply kisses you again. it’s quite an intimate moment as he moves the strands of hair from your face. the two of you separate from each other and there’s a comfortable silence between you too. the act is so domestic as the two of you simply stare at each other. unfortunately, it’s interrupted as someone knocks loudly on the door.

“who’s in there? i need a shirt.” antoine slurs.

“shit. shit. shit.” rodrigo steps away from you adjusting his clothes and finally getting his vape.

“hide in the bathroom.” you urge him as you adjust your sarong before heading towards the door.

he doesn’t know why he does it but he pulls you closer by your waist before kissing you one last time before heading for the bathroom. you’re taken aback but can’t help but grin a little at the action. it’s going to take more than your willpower to stop yourself whenever you go to anymore games in the future.

#so… 🧍🏽‍♀️ #roro 😊😊😊 #rodrigo riquelme smut #rodrigo riquelme x reader #football smut #football imagine #football fic #gabri writes

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "Eraserhead.." you mumble to yourself while browsing the pictures shared on the website.

You've always been intrigued by the name he has chosen for his studio, but more than anything, you wish to know more about the man himself, he's the reason why you're doing any of this after all.

Of course he is, because the mere thought of him branding you makes all your uncertainties vanish, and you are now anxiously counting the seconds until tomorrow comes.

You bite down on your lip while studying the pictures carefully, admiring him and his colleagues as they're clearly transferring their passion onto their clients' skin. The care, the focus and the beauty of it all is obvious in every photo, it is certainly more than just a job for them, it is love.

You snuggle up in bed a little deeper, bringing the covers over your head and clutching to your phone while browsing through the photos, until one of them stops you.

Your eyes gleam and your grip on the device tightens as you eagerly take in the details of the man in front of you. He looks so handsome, with his hair tied in a half bun that allowed you a better peek at the long slender neck you wish to run your fingertips along. Oh how you wish..

He's wearing a simple black tank top that accentuates the art adorning his flesh and confirms your previous suspicions, that the glimpses of ink you have so far been fortunate enough to see, are in fact but a touch of what's been hidden.

You want to make sense of the art he has chosen for himself, it's beautiful, elegant and obviously bears a meaning to him, but as much as you wish to, you cannot possibly understand the story behind it.

Your eyes land on his well defined muscles, taut underneath his skin as he diligently worked around a girl's thigh.

_ "Oh crap.." you breathe out as it suddenly hits you, that just in a few hours you will be exposing yourself to him much like the girl in the photo is.

Your body stiffens and your cheeks heat up as countless questions race in your mind, what if you decide to have it on your back? Or leg? Or tummy? Then would you have to remove your clothes for that? Obviously.. would you be able to do it though? You aren't so sure anymore..

Wouldn't it be much easier if you are to meet with one of the other artists? His loud blond friend perhaps, or the cheerful tall guy whom you seldom ever see since he usually comes a little later than the others.

Is it wrong of you to rush into this without thinking everything through? Seriously, what are you hoping to accomplish anyway?

Do you expect him to be charmed by you? To speak more intimately? To start something that would bring you two together?

How ridiculous! He would be doing his job and nothing more, so perhaps you ought to keep these outrageous thoughts to yourself and learn to give up on your absurd infatuation.

It would be best if you do, for your own sake..

Your body jerks violently to the blaring sound of the alarm clock, and you sit up at once, pressing your fingers to your throbbing temples and wincing in pain.

Is it morning already? When and how did you fall asleep anyway? It's hard to tell, because the last thing you can remember is the first thing on your mind right now, him.

Your day is passing in a haze, and no matter how hard you try, you cannot think of anything else but him.

You smile at yet another satisfied customer as she picks up her colorful bouquet and walks out of your shop all happy and excited about her purchase.

_ "It's almost time." you sigh heavily while peeking at the studio across the street— like you have been doing the whole day, still closed but won't be for long.

Your eyes shift to the wall clock hanging opposite of you, it reads six forty-five, almost time to lock up and get to your appointment with Mr Aizawa who will soon be here..

The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering furiously in rhythm with your pounding heart as you clean up around your shop to kill the few minutes left until you see him, and just like clockwork, he does in fact appear right as you are done securing your shop's front door, greeting you like he always does before walking into the studio where his colleagues already are..

_ "Oh good evening Miss! You're right on time," Ms Kayama greets you enthusiastically as soon as you walk in, "boss will be seeing you in a moment so why don't you have a seat first."

_ "Thank you." you do as asked, biting on the inside of your cheek nervously and watching while a couple walk in and are immediately greeted by the tall guy whose cheerfulness you frankly envy.

You're not really sure how long you've been sitting there -eyes moving between gleeful artists and their excited clients as they work out the details of their desired pieces- but it couldn't have been more than mere minutes before his warm greeting reached you, "welcome back."

_ "H.. hello Mr Aizawa." you curse your wavering voice as you stand up too quickly— that your head starts spinning, grateful for the hand you're keeping on the back of the chair for support.

_ "I'm glad you came back." he gets even closer to you as he speaks, so much closer that you can catch every little detail of his handsome face.

_ "Thank you." that's right, you were a mess yesterday, and you did make a fool of yourself over the whole thing, but for some reason you don't regret any of it since it somehow led you a bit closer to the guy you've spent months admiring from afar.

_ "Please follow me."

You walk closely behind him, admiring the stature of the man controlling every speck of your being, and wishing you could just reach out and touch him, but that would be too creepy wouldn't it? You're not even that close..

You shake your head to chase away those weird thoughts fighting within your brain and focus on the reason why you're here instead, the man is running a business for heaven's sake, and you have to respect that.

_ "Wow! This is.." you bite down on your lip to stop from squealing like a little girl as you finally take in the room where he spends all his evenings.

_ "So, you like it?" he sounds a bit flustered, the tone of his voice is way softer than before, as if awaiting to hear more from you.

_ "I love it, you have a great taste Mr Aizawa."

He truly does, and you find yourself admiring the colorful art brightening the otherwise dull walls around, the framed designs hanging neatly, and even the equipments that you cannot recognize or understand the need for them.

He is an artist, and it clearly shows everywhere your eyes have landed.

_ "Thank you, hearing this from you means a lot." and there it is, that beautiful smile of his.

You wonder what he could've possibly meant by that, does your opinion really matter to him? Or is he just being polite? No matter what it is, it's not the right time for you to lose focus, you have to get yourself together.

_ "I really mean it Mr Aizawa, and I'm really happy I get to see where you work up close." and the sparkle in your eye doesn't go unnoticed.

_ "You seem more relaxed today, I'm glad," he tilts his head to the side as he speaks, his luscious locks flowing around his face and neck, and casting a dazzling aura around him, "please have a seat." he gestures you towards the comfortable looking tattoo chair placed in the middle of the room before pulling out a stool for himself.

_ "The sketch is ready," he grabs his iPad from the large table where his equipments are neatly placed, scrolling through it a bit before announcing, "here you go, we can do some alternations if it's not how you pictured it."

_ "Thank you." heart is pounding in your chest and breath is caught in your throat as you accept the device, and soon, your nervousness is replaced with a giddy smile that you cannot control as your eyes finally land on the digital art that's shortly to be transferred onto your skin.

_ "So, I take it you like how it came out." he must've caught on to the meaning of your bright expression, and you can swear you sensed a little relief in his voice, as if he's been anticipating your reaction.

You know you shouldn't read too much into it, it's his job to meet his clients' expectations after all, but you just cannot help that tingling sensation spreading throughout your body as you delve deeper into delirium.

_ "I love it, it's perfect," you pause for a moment to admire it a bit more before snapping your head up all of a sudden, "oh by the way, I thought of an ideal spot for it, my wrist." this would be the only way for you to keep your clothes on when he starts working on you.

He looks at you for a moment but says nothing, pursing his lips and puckering his brow as if he's deep in thought, triggering your anxiety with every second that passes as you start wondering if something is wrong.

_ "May I suggest something?" he takes your hand in his, running a thumb over the sensitive skin of your wrist before continuing, "look, this part right here is very delicate and it would be quite painful."

It's warm, hot, burning hot where his hands are holding you, your heart races and goosebumps appear under his touch as he keeps talking, "since it's your first time doing it, I don't recommend this placement for you, but maybe if we push it up a bit and make it closer to your forearm where the skin is a little thicker?" and his fingertips press lightly there on the spot suggested.

_ "Y.. yes, okay." your voice quivers again, like it always does around him.

_ "Alright, perfect! I'll print it out right away so we can start immediately."

Good, this will give you a few minutes to collect yourself..

_ "So, what do you think? That's two inches, but we can resize it if you want." he leans back and gives you a chance to assess the sketch printed onto your skin, holding up a mirror for you and smiling as he does.

_ "I like it a lot! It looks gorgeous." the perfect design and the perfect size and you can't wait to get it permanently etched into you.

You have been so engrossed into admiring yourself for a moment that you almost missed his lingering eyes on you, almost.

_ "Shall we get started then?" he stands up from his stool to grab his kit and a pair of gloves before returning, "I'm going to ask you to sit back and put your arm on the armrest here, it's a small piece but will take about an hour to finish up since we're coloring it, if it gets too painful we can take a break that's totally fine."

_ "I understand."

You've always had a somewhat high pain tolerance, you've never been one to whine or complain over anything, which is probably why you're finding the persistent sting of the tattoo gun endurable, but maybe it isn't even that, maybe the reason why you don't mind the pricking sensation is actually the man causing it.

That must be it, yeah, looking at his side profile while he's deeply focused on work, eyes narrowed and lips sealed in a firm line, muscles lean and stretched as his arms move elegantly, hair pulled in a low bun with a few rebel strands tucked neatly behind his ears.. this sight of him is making you lose your sanity as you gawk at him stupidly.

You don't want your time with him to end too quickly, you wish it would stretch out to infinity, or at least until you're able to come up with a proper topic for discussion, it's the only time you have for such a thing.

However, the man needs his focus for your sake and his own, so no, it's not the right time for such a thing..

_ "And we're done, I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable," he leans back with a muffled groan as he straightens his back, smiling at you while finally removing his gloves, "you endured it well, I'm proud."

_ "Wha.. I.. thank you." why would he say something that is -once again- making you stutter like an idiot? It's not fair.

_ "Alright, let me show you how it came out before I wrap it," he picks up the mirror again and holds it out for you, "it's a little red and swollen right now but that's to be expected so don't worry about it, it should heal nicely if you follow my instructions."

_ "I will, thank you for.. for everything." for everything..? you regret the words coming out of your mouth as soon as they do, what if he asks what you meant by that?

Are you willing to tell him? That you're grateful for his patience with you? For not laughing at you or kicking you out when you burst in without a previous appointment like a normal human being should do?

_ "You're welcome," and he doesn't ask for further explanation as his gaze softens, "alright now listen carefully, you will have to apply a generous amount of ointment on the area at least twice a day until it completely heals," he starts explaining as he gently picks up your arm and rubs lotion on it, "be careful not to wash it for at least a day, after that you can remove the bandage I'm about to wrap your arm with and wash the spot carefully with antimicrobial soap and water before patting it dry," he wraps your arm slowly while making sure not to irritate the fresh wound, "also, don't peel off the dead skin, just be patient with it."

He steps back and holds out his hand for you to take, before pulling you gently to your feet, "it was great having you, I'm glad I was the one giving you your first tattoo."

I'm glad I was the one giving you your first tattoo..

You bid him goodnight and walk out to the reception desk where you finish up paying before finally leaving the studio for potentially the last time, ever..

I'm glad I was the one giving you your first tattoo..

Will you be able to forget his last words to you? Will you ever awaken from your delusions and see everything that's just happened as it actually is instead of what you wish it to be?

I'm glad I was the one giving you your first tattoo..

Probably not.

To be continued..

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa headcanons #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x you #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #aizawa shouta #Aizawa shouta fluff

[stevethehairington]

He needs a break. A chance to breathe for a moment. This lifestyle sometimes feels like the corsets that Robin is always complaining about — too tight, too constricting, and superfluously unnecessary. Steve pities Robin, and the rest of the poor women, who have to deal with both. The circumstance and the corsets.

Steve knows better than to complain, though. He lives a lavish existence, one that many people would give anything to have. It isn’t fair of him to pity himself like this when there are so many people out there that are so much worse off than him. He should feel grateful. Lucky, even.

But it’s hard not to feel suffocated instead, sometimes.

The alcove is quiet, thank god, and void of any stray party guests. It’s hidden away, tucked between two rocks that overlook the seaside, and the crash of waves from down below has a mollifying effect on Steve’s agitated disposition.

He reaches for the cravat at his neck, loosening it with deft fingers. He’s in the act of tugging it away from his throat when the clear crunch of a footstep has him spinning around sharply.

And there, emerging from the shadows to block Steve’s only escape route, is a man.

The first thing Steve notices about the man is the curtain of dark curls that frame his face. They’re long enough to tumble freely over his shoulders, and they’re pulled back by a thick swath of fabric, deep red in color. The ends of his bangs peek out from beneath the bandana, as do a pair of thin braids, each tied off with two hollowed out pearls.

With his hair out of his face, Steve can see it all. Every single feature, open and on display — those soft cheekbones, that sloping nose, the gnarled scar that stretches across the left side of his jaw and pulls the corner of his mouth into a twisted, permanent smile.

Steve is sure that he’s never seen this man before, and yet there is something achingly familiar about him. A tugging within his gut; it feels like he should know him, but from what, he can’t quite place.

The man’s left ear is pierced through twice, two identical gold hoops looped through the skin. And just beneath his ear he has a small mark. A tattoo. Steve isn’t quite close enough to make out just what it’s of. He squints his eyes and nearly takes a step closer to take a proper look, but catches himself before he does.

It’s then that Steve realizes that he’s been staring, borderline ogling, for much longer than is appropriate, too. His cheeks warm as he averts his eyes to the ground. But rather than the cobblestone path below, his gaze falls to the man’s feet.

Flared brown boots cover those feet, rising up nearly to his knees. They’re old looking, worn and well-purposed, but still sturdy, even after countless strops though mud and water and sand and all sorts of other rough terrains. Beneath the boots, his stalwart calves and strong thighs are encased in rough-hewn black breeches, tight, yet functional.

Steve’s eyes stray further up, despite his best efforts. 

The man wears a thick brown leather belt, layered with a silken red cloth and an even thinner black belt, this one scaled like a dragon, with a shiny gold buckle. It sits around his waist, atop an open black vest that accentuates his slim figure. His blouse beneath is a deep wine red, made from a gauzy looking material that clings to his skin. Steve imagines that if it were to get wet it would be absolutely sinful. The neck of it is rather plunging, too, exposing the man’s collarbones, and the corner of another tattoo on his chest. 

And there, above his heart and to the right, in the very center, hangs a pendant — some sort of serpentine creature with wings, gaudy and golden and absolutely eye-catching.

Steve feels a little hot under the collar, taking it all in. He has to look away.

The man makes an amused humming sort of noise. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” He drawls, flicking both eyebrows up at once. A lazy grin unfurls across his full lips, and he practically drapes himself over the rock behind him.

The position puts his whole body even further on display, in an entirely new way this time, and looking away is futile now. Steve’s eyes are heedlessly drawn back to it, raking over every inch. It feels… dangerous, to be looking this much, this long, but he can’t help it.

The man lifts a hand to examine his black varnished nails, an air of boredom to the action. His fingers are adorned with chunky silver rings that glint in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Casually, he pulls a dagger from its hiding place amongst the belts and uses the sharp tip to pick at one of his nails.

Idly, he starts to whistle — a low, warbling tune that has an almost menacing edge to it.

It, too, strikes a chord of remembrance in Steve, and he wracks his brain trying to think of where he’s heard it. And then it hits him.

“You’re a pirate!” He gasps out. It sounds scandalized, when he says it, though, really, he isn’t scandalized at all. He doesn’t find himself very afraid, either, though he knows he should be. Instead, he’s just intrigued.

The man snickers. “Very good, sweetheart,” he commends, tucking the dagger away again. He brushes his knuckles against his shirt. “What gave it away?”

Steve frowns. “What are you doing here? Where’s your ship?”

“What am I doing here?” The man repeats. Laughs this breezy little thing. “I’m meant to be taking you prisoner, actually,” he tells Steve.

“Take me— prisoner?” Steve repeats, shock coloring his tone. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh, yes,” the man replies, pushing himself off of the rock. He starts to circle Steve. “I’m meant to be snatching you up— well, that’s the interpretation of it, anyways. All they said was that I needed to deal with you, and, really, that’s so vague.”

He starts to circle Steve, slinking around him slowly, purposefully. His voice carries as he does. “Pirates are supposed to be unscrupulous, though, aren’t they? What with all the threatening and the stealing and the killing and the like. I figured it only makes sense that I take you.”

Steve has a million questions — like who the hell is they? And what do they want with him? And why did they send a pirate to do their dirty work?

Instead, what comes out is, “I guess that would make sense.”

He folds his arms over his chest, just for something to do with them, and then a thought surfaces to the forefront of his brain.

A crease forms between his eyebrows, and his lower lip pushes out into a contemplative pout as he mulls it over. “But what if—” he starts. Pauses. Cuts himself off like he won’t dare finish the thought.

Only it’s too enticing, too tempting not to. 

“What if you didn’t take me?”

The man comes to a stop right in front of Steve. He’s close, much closer than anyone would normally be comfortable with, but Steve doesn’t care. If anything, he has to refrain from curling his fingers into that necklace and using it to leverage him even closer.

Steve looks into the man’s dark eyes. Big, endless, easy to lose himself to. But he doesn’t. He meets them head on, unwavering with his gaze, as if he’s challenging him.

“Sweetheart,” the man starts, dripping with condescension. He raises a hand and flattens it against the rock behind Steve, boxing him in. Another wry chuckle tumbles past his lips. “I don’t think you get it,” he says. “I have an order. I need to follow it.”

Steve just his chin up, defiant. “I don’t think you get it,” he returns, poking the man in the chest, much to his astonishment.

“What if you didn’t take me,” Steve repeats slowly, putting emphasis on his meaning. “But what if I… went with you anyways?”

It takes a moment for the words to properly sink in, but when they do, a slow spreading surprise settles over the man’s face. “Oh,” he says, sounding pleased. His lips curl back into a grin that bares his teeth. “How rebellious of you,” he tuts.

“You say rebellious, I say free-thinking,” Steve replies, brushing him off.

The man’s smirk grows, but he doesn’t accept the proposition. Not yet. Instead, he watches Steve carefully, like he expects his bravado to fall away any second now and for Steve to renege. 

But Steve holds his ground. He’s not taking it back. He’s not chickening out. In fact, he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

He’s going to go with this man.

Finally, the man relents. “If that’s what you want,” he says.

“It is,” Steve replies, without hesitation.

The man gives a firm nod, and without another word, he turns on his heel and starts to briskly walk away.

Steve scrambles to follow him, out through the opening of the rocks and across the open courtyard that leads towards the port. He glances behind him every so often to make sure that he hasn’t been spotted or followed by any of the partygoers. By any of his family. 

But each time he looks, there’s no one.

He doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or thrilled by that.

The further he gets from the party, though, the easier it gets to breathe. Like the noose around his neck loosens with each step. That almost makes him want to laugh, considering his choice here would earn him a real one, permanently.

Ships line the port, when they finally make it to the water’s edge. Great big ones, with hulking hulls and dozens of ballooning sails. There are at least four, anchored in the bay, but none of them stick out to Steve as a pirate ship. Not that Steve’s ever actually seen a pirate ship before. He’s only heard tales. Still, he expected that they’d be distinct.

The man approaches one of the ships, and he doesn’t hesitate before tromping up the shoddy wooden gangway and stepping foot onto the polished deck. His hands slide onto his hips and he casts a wide glance around. He takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, his whole body relaxing as he does. Like he’s finally home.

He turns then, back towards Steve and offers out his hand.

Steve looks down at it, then back up at the man.

“I’m Steve,” he says, taking it. The man’s palm is rough against Steve’s, but it’s warm too. It feels nice.

The man laughs. “I know,” he says. “And I’m—”

It’s then that Steve notices it. It’s subtle, in the sense that it’s just the one detail. But that detail itself is anything but. Just past the man’s head, right in the center of the biggest sail, a red devil. Pointed horns protruding from its skull, wicked yellow eyes, razor sharp teeth. 

It is unmistakable.

“You’re Eddie Munson,” Steve says, recognition finally hitting. And, jesus christ, he feels so stupid for not realizing sooner. The most notorious pirate in all of the seven seas — how could he have forgotten?

“That I am,” Eddie muses. Then he uses his grip on Steve’s hand to pull him the rest of the way onboard.

It tightens, and he doesn’t let go right away, like maybe he thinks Steve will try and make a run for it now that he knows who he is. 

But Steve doesn’t. He stands his ground, holds Eddie’s gaze steady.

Something zings up Steve’s spine as Eddie’s big eyes bore back into his own, and he thinks briefly to himself that whatever he’s gotten himself into here, it’s going to be well worth it. He’s in for the adventure of a lifetime here.

Eddie drops his hand then, and a slow grin, just as devilish as his flag unfurls across his pretty lips. He flourishes one of his own hands out around him.

“Steve Harrington,” he practically purrs. “Welcome to Hellfire.”

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets #so i wrote this instead of working on any of the fics i actually should be working on rn lol #i listened to voulez vous by abba and my brain went pirates and well. here we are. #funny story also bc a good chunk of the first half of this actually came from something i was going to write for a totally different fandom #but never ended up writing so it just sat collecting dust until today! #10 bucks if you can guess the fandom (and no it is not ofmd or any other actual genuine pirate fandom lol)

[soleilandpeaches]

he loves my heart shaped sunglasses

featuring: Hawks/Keigo Takami synopsis: sexual tension has been brewing between you and your favorite tattooist. You were hesitant to the type of lover he was; he seemed almost to good to be true. He wasn’t. warnings: f!reader, mentions of drugs/alcohol, cunnilingus, possessive!Keigo, rough sex, oral (f!recieving), mutual pining, romantic and sexual pining, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) rated: 18+ (MDNI) song title inspo: Every Man Gets His Wish by Lana Del Rey

“Hold still now, Dove.” The light and airy tone of his voice dripping with saccharine honey and goodness, his gloved hand coming to rest on your bicep as he leaned closer for inspection. The needle in his hand buzzing to life before you forced your head to turn away, no matter how much you wanted to keep looking.

He chucked at your dismay, your insides turning at the sound and the feel of his warm breath amongst you. He was so beautiful, so warm, so charming that you couldn’t help yourself from wandering back to this place just to see him. He had even asked you if he was your favorite artist, a knowing smirk plastered on his gorgeous face with full pink lips and sharp, pearly-white teeth.

What you would give just to have him, even just for one night. Though, you knew that was a lie; you’d yearn for him forever afterwards. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of lover he was: was he the type to love and then leave? You knew he must’ve had many many admirers from the way he looked, down to the charismatic way he carried himself. He had that sort of confidence, that magnetic charm—he could have anyone he wanted.

“Still scared of needles, huh?” He queried, ripping you away from your reveries, yet you refused to assess him.

“You’ve been coming to me for how long now?” He teased, and you could hear the mocking grin in his voice, yet you loved it all the same.

“Are you just trying to get me to talk?” You jested back, refusing to give in to his taunts, yet your eyes remained fixated on the spinning ceiling fan, following a single panel as it rotated. The clinking of the silver metal chain kept you from focusing too much on the needle piercing your skin. Luckily, you chose a less painful area to tattoo today.

“Maybe I am. You know I like hearing your voice.” And now he was flirting, not that you minded; he seemed to like flirting with you.

“Glad to know you’re still in love with me, Keigo.” This coerced a laugh from his chest, though he kept it short so as to not ruin his work. You quickly glanced over at his face, eyes sharp and focused, hidden underneath long blonde lashes; his chiseled jaw set and eyebrows furrowed, hair pulled back by a black, metal headband.

“Like what you see, Dove?” And though he wasn’t looking at you, the coy flicker to his eyes paired with his smug face spoke in more volume than if he did; he was revelinging your attention.

“Yeah, I do.” You acting shy wasn’t what he wanted, he was a slut for your shameless flirting, if his glowing flush of his cheeks were anything to go by. You eyed the exposed muscle to his arms, quickly flexing from your praise. You knew his silent mannerisms by now, quickly learning it’s necessity if you were curious of what he was really feeling beneath his strained stoicism and deflecting charm.

“Aw shucks, you’re gonna make me blush y’know?” His lips stretched into a more cheerful smile, dimples following in response as the tips of his ears glew red.

“Looks like you already are.” You purred, continuing in hopes of riling him up in the way he does you so effortlessly. Just the thought of him had you giggling and blushing, panties soaking of the memories of him. The memories of him touching you with his soft–gloved hands, flirting with you like his tongue was made of nothing but silver, gazing back at you with eyes of liquid gold and sweet honey.

You often wondered what his hair must feel like between your fingers, would it be soft or stiff? You hoped it would be the former, imagining running your fingers through those feathered, wheat-colored strands. You couldn’t even use your fingers to count how many times you’ve daydreamed of doing just that with his head between your thighs, piercing eyes staring back at you as he eats your pussy. You wondered if his tongue was as talented with that as it was with its words.

“You tryna make me fuck up my job?” Keigo removed the needle from your arm to uncomfortably shift in his seat, though he didn’t look unhappy, you’d say he looked rather aroused.

“Oh right, sorry sorry.” Though you both knew you weren’t really, you turned your head back over and away from him; you still wanted a good tattoo anyway. You watched him shake his head with a chuckle before taking a breath to resume his work.

“I thought you wanted to hear me talk.” Biting back a yelp, you forced your body not to jump at the sudden piercing contact of the needle to your arm.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” he noted, but from what you couldn’t see, he was sticking his tongue out at you.

It’s been a couple weeks since the last time you went back, however, you’ve been texting back-and-forth with Keigo pretty regularly. You seemed to quickly form a pretty strong connection with him, the two of you seemed to have pretty good chemistry.

You could tell he was growing fond of you, texts here-and-there shifted to everyday, always ending your day with a cute: “Goodnight, Dove <3.” Even on his busy days, he never hesitated to let you know he couldn’t talk, which you appreciated.

You knew he saw you as more than just a client, but you were willing to drag this out as much as you could; keeping things slow to watch it unravel before you. You wondered what he would look like when you pushed his buttons, daring his thread to snap. Unfortunately for you, Keigo wasn’t an idiot; he knew what you wanted. It seemed he was willing to play along with you, but you knew how to push past his limits.

“I’m going to this party tomorrow.” You told him, kicking your legs back-and-forth as he stood in between them, holding a needle to your ear.

“Oh yeah? Excited?” He asked playfully, chuckling as you gripped his arm as he pierced your upper ear, flexing his muscle at the contact.

“A little,” You decided after a moment, taking a second too long to release him from your grip.

“I’m not really a huge party person though.” You admitted gazing up at him as he pulled back, fighting the urge to rub your thighs together.

“Hmm…” He hummed thoughtfully, turning around to put away his tools before removing his gloves in a teasingly slow manner.

“Are you going alone?”

Even though the question seemed light-hearted, you could read in-between the lines, you knew what he was really insinuating.

Do you have a date?

You couldn’t seem to hold back your smile, remembering when Keigo told you he sometimes had jealousy issues. Maybe it was toxic to feel a sense of power from this realization, but you couldn’t seem to find a care as you checked him out.

“A couple of my good friends are gonna be there, but I’m pretty sure I’ll have to uber home.” You were almost positive none of them were going to stay sober, and neither were you. Still, maybe if you played your cards right, you could get him to take you home.

“I can take you home if you need me to, Angel.” To be honest, you were taken aback by how quickly he volunteered for you, thinking you might’ve had to call him up at the last minute. A part of you felt guilty for wanting to use him.

“Oh no, it’s okay, really-” You argued but he was already making his way back over to you, and something about his face screamed he was already planning on it even if you rejected him.

“C’mon, Dove, it’s the least I could do.” He laughed, offering his hand for you to take so he could guide you off your chair. You took his hand, admiring the soft and delicate texture of his palms. You inwardly shook your head to rid of the sudden inappropriate thoughts of how they would feel holding other parts of your body.

“But you’re always doing things for me.” You giggled as he led you away so you could pay for his service. Even though, however, after some time he began charging you for less.

“Ah, well, a sweet thing like you deserves it.” He’s been getting bolder. You note with a grin; this means he’s becoming more impatient. Good.

“Thank you, Keigo! It means a lot!”

“Of course, Dovey.”

The ride back home was tense, and not in a good way. After you had hugged all of your friends goodbye, you stumbled up to his car, albeit excited to see him since you’ve been gushing about him all night. Although, his expression and demeanor seemed less than happy, eyebrows pulled forward in a grimace with his jaw drawn tight.

“Heyyy~” You greeted, a little high, plopping down in the passenger seat before struggling to pull the seat belt across your body.

“Did you have fun?” His almost accusing tone made you snort, he almost sounded like some sort of possessive girlfriend.

“Why are you all mad?” Forgetting your filter, you wondered if he really was bothered that he had to pick you up; was he just trying to be nice? You couldn’t say you enjoyed when people offered services just to be nice. Then only to be annoyed when you take them up on it. Why even offer if you don’t even want to?

He let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing and his knuckles turning from white to neutral. How upset was he?

“It’s not you…” He trailed off as he backed out of his parking space, one arm coming to rest behind your head as he did so, your earlier frustration seemingly forgotten.

“Just a crappy day, yknow?” It seemed he had more to say but refrained, offering you a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well you shouldn’t take it out on me, y’know?” Maybe you shouldn’t have mocked him; you decided to blame the weed.

He didn’t seem to mind, letting out a short chuckle and a sigh before shooting you a quick, apologetic one-over. “You’re right Dovey, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll need more than an apology if you want me to forgive you for being so rude.” You couldn’t really abstain yourself from teasing him; it was just too easy!

“Oh yeah? Like what, hm?” You could feel yourself start to grow hotter, avoiding his quick eye contact as you stumbled over your thoughts.

“I don’t know…” You mumbled, awkwardly shuffling your feet together. You weren’t sure as to why you were suddenly feeling so shy now. You had hoped you would be able to push Keigo past his brink, manipulating him into just taking what he wants. But just as you thought you had him where you wanted, it seemed he was three steps ahead.

“You don’t know? Well it sure sounded like you did just now.” You shoot him a glare, sticking out your tongue like a child, but you don’t care. You don’t miss the way the passing freeway street lights hit his face, illuminating his hair and his eyes as they glow colorfully. You trail your eyes down his biceps and over his tattoos.

“Why do you have to be such a smart ass all the time?” Your grumble playfully, folding your arms underneath your chest, not missing the way his eyes dart quickly to your breasts.

“Smart ass? I was just wondering how to get back into your good graces.” He smiles a toothy grin as he awaits your response but before you can think of one, he’s speaking again.

“And to think this is how you repay my kindness. After all I do for you?” He tuts as he shakes his head in his mock disappointment. You couldn’t help but picture him repeating that same sentence as he stands over you, on your knees and arms binded as he removes his belt.

“Well then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you then.” Your voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, you watch him like a cat stalking it’s prey, grinning in delight as a shiver runs through him.

“Y’know what? I kinda like the sound of that.”

He walks you into your apartment after you invite him inside, eyeing him as he takes off his shoes. He eyes you back, smirking as he usually does, strips of hair falling over his face in a way that has you envying his effortless beauty.

“So? Are you going to give me a tour?”

“Is that what you want?”

He pauses for a moment, peering up at you from where he was sitting, slowly looking you up-and-down as if to convey his message without words.

“No.” He answers honestly, leaning back in his chair before coming to a full stand, leisurely making his way over to you. Standing before you, he’s glancing back-and-forth between your eyes, as if silently searching for some answer beneath them.

His fingers gently tuck a stand of hair behind your ear before gingerly dragging them down the side of your neck and to your jaw. He pauses for a moment before cupping your cheek, inching his face closer to yours as his eyes move from yours to your lips. He tilts his face, inching further until you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as you wet them in anticipation.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers so faintly that you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t so close, his eyes meet yours again as if to further illustrate his question.

“You may.” You couldn’t contain your silly grin or your girlish giggle, your expression seemed to influence his own as well, having to wait for your smiles to fade so he could properly kiss you. But they don’t, so he just does it anyway.

It’s a slow, intimate kiss, one that conveys feelings instead of words. He tastes just the way he looks: cinnamon gum and sweets, honeyed like french toast with a side of strawberries. At least, that’s how he makes you feel anyway.

His opposite hand finds its way to your waist, gripping firmly yet gently, pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him further into you. Your smile falls as you moan against him, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. Your cheeks begin to heat at the sound of your lips smacking over-and-over against each other.

“Keigo.” You mumble between kisses, your dominant hand trailing down his chest to feel him up. You silently thank him for deciding to go with a simple wife beater, as it allows you much more access.

You feel his smile against you, unable to keep kissing you, your lips are simply pressed together.

“Yes?” You blink your eyes open and flick them to meet his, your chest tightens when witnessing the way he looks at you. His eyes are almost hidden beneath thick lashes, yet they couldn’t stow away the devotion swimming beneath them. And he too, was sporting the same, love-sick smile you were.

“Can I make it up to you now?” You ask hesitantly, nervous at the notion he would reject you. Your finger absentmindedly twirling a single lock as he hums in pretend thought.

“Only if you let me make it up to you too.”

It doesn’t take you long for you to guide him up to your bedroom, pulling him along in-between giggles and sweet kisses. You feel like a smitten teenager as you pull him into your bed and on top of you, infatuated with the noises you were pulling from him.

He’s groaning your name as you pull at the back of his shirt, urging him to take it off and quickly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me y’know?” He’s laughing again, sitting on his knees as he clumsily tears his shirt over his head; you feel your pussy throb in response.

“Good.” You giggle, inching the hem of his pants down his thigh with your foot before he’s grabbing it, tearing it away from his pants as he bends your knee to your chest. Pushing himself forward, he begins rubbing his hard on into your clothed pussy.

“What a little minx you are.” He takes in a long inhale before his hands are toying with the strap to your tank top. “Can I take this off?”

“You may.” You note how gentlemanly he’s treating you, you almost feel guilty how hurried you are to get into his pants. But just as you finish that thought, he’s tearing your shirt off just as quickly as he did his.

He’s staring intently at your chest, admiring your pierced nipples—the ones he pierced—with a proud simper. It isn’t long before he’s pinching and pulling at them before leaning over to take one into his mouth, moaning at the feeling as he rolls your piercing around with his tongue.

Your hands coil themselves back into his hair, pushing and tugging as you moan in delight. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you dig your foot into his lower back, urging his groin further into yours.

“So responsive.” He notes, rubbing his lips across your chest and back down to your nipples, taking one in-between his teeth to tug before gently licking over in apology.

“Would you rather I not be?” He only answers with a deep chuckle and a shake of his head. His mouth begins to leave open mouth kisses back across your chest and up to your neck, searching desperately for the spot that will make you sing.

And when he does he’s grinning back against your neck before posessively sucking harder, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Ow! Keigo, that hurt.” You whine pulling him off with a hard pull to his head, your legs tightening snug as he growls when he’s pulled away. One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his face meets yours again, face drawn back into that same displeased expression he sported when you entered his car.

“Gotta let em’ know you’re all mine, Dove.”

All His? While you wouldn’t fight him on that, you couldn’t exactly wrap your head around who he was referring to, if anyone in particular at all.

Your confusion must’ve shown because now he’s gripping your thigh harder, as his unoccupied hand reaches to grasp you by your cheeks as he pulls you in for a less sweet, more passionate kiss.

“I saw you huggin’ all those boys before you left. Were you tryin’ to make me jealous, hm?” His tone is accusatory as it is lighthearted, not wanting to scare you away.

“No.” You attempt to say, but your lips are pursed too tight in his hold but you don’t mind; you’d be lying to admit you didn’t find this extremely attractive. You could feel the wetness of your panties expanding as you attempted to lift your hips to feel him.

“No.” He mocks in a high-pitched-girly voice, giving your cheeks one last faithful squeeze before he’s leaning back in for more kisses. He gives in to your attempts of rubbing against him, deciding he too needs more friction.

He pulls away from your mouth to descend kisses down your body, muttering how you were always trying to rile him up. You decided not to argue on this one (because you couldn’t) and instead laid your head back to simply enjoy this newfound pleasure. You continue to moan, arching your body towards his mouth, but every time you do he pulls away again.

“Enjoying yourself?” He’s planting kisses across your thighs, taking one into his mouth to bite when you refuse to answer.

“I would enjoy this more if you quit teasing me.” You spat, squeezing his face between your thighs, amused by the way his cheeks squished together. He chuckles as he parts your legs, pinning them down the mattress as his mouth hovers over your pussy.

“You like it.” He states without room for debate, sucking your clothed clit into his mouth, delighting in your keening of pleasure.

“Is this where you want me, Baby?” He asks in that sultry tone, the one he knows that has you melting in the palm of his hand, just as you do now.

“Yes! Please please…” You didn’t even think twice to begin begging, breaking your back just to keep feeling his delicious tongue against your aching cunt.

“Please what? I need to hear you say it.” He’s staring expectantly up at you know, lips red and swollen, hair messy and disheveled; you thought he never looked so handsome.

“Tell me you want me,” he says with a pant, hand tightening against your hip. “Tell me you want me and no one else. I need to hear you say it.”

Taking a moment to take him in, you're pulling his face back to yours in a desperate pleading kiss, hips jumping at his pathetic whine.

“Please…” You whisper as you pull away to peer into his eyes, putting on your best puppy dog expression. “Please Keigo, I want you so bad. Please, I don’t want anyone else: just you.”

He cuts you off with another long kiss, sliding your panties down your legs and off your body in one go before he’s burying his face back in between your thighs.

“God, you’re so wet, Baby” He comments with a groan, sucking your slick into his mouth as he shakes his head back-and-forth, rubbing his nose into your clit.

“Don’t stop.” You pant, hands tightening so hard against his head he’s whimpering against you, sending pleasurable vibrations throughout your body. “Please don’t stop.”

Your knees come together behind his neck, blocking him from moving his face away from the heat between your legs. He doesn’t seem to mind, his hands coming to grope at your naked thighs as he eats you out like a man starved.

His mouth ascends back to your clit after tongue fucking you for what felt like ages, the cord within your threatening to snap in only a matter of seconds. The feeling of his stubble gently scratching against your hole has you cumming with a wail, your release drenching the sheets below you.

He’s pulling back to admire his work, laughing to half himself as he utters something about: not even getting to use his fingers.

“Please…” You’re panting now as he traces your labia with his index and middle, scooping up your orgasm to suck back into his mouth. He coos happily at the taste, circling his fingers around your hole, threatening to puncture.

“Want you s’bad.” You admit, watching as his chest rises-and-falls as his lips and chin glisten with your release.

“Yeah? You want me, Baby?” His voice dipping into a low but steady tone as he takes on a sort-of sexy caretaker role. You nod your head feverishly as his fingers sink into your heat, curling upwards in search for that sweet spot inside you.

“How bad? How bad do you want me?” He’s leaning over you, the feeling of his warm and cinnamon-y breath rasping over your cheek sends goosebumps across every inch of your skin.

“S’bad please! Please Keigo, jus’ want you inside, please!” You’re writhing underneath him, wailing once he seems to find that spot and pressing into it.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, huh, Angel? Want me to give it to you nice and hard, don’t you?” His fingers pick up their pace in their assault, the sound of your arousal filling your ears and causing your cheeks to heat beneath your skin.

“Yes! Yes, Keigo want you to stuff your cock inside me! Please, I want you to fill me up s’bad—want your cum inside me!” You confess, gasping as he shoves his face into your neck with a loud groan before he pulls his fingers away to tug his sweatpants and boxers off with one swoop. He pulls you upwards further onto your bed so you can lay your head comfortably on your pillows before he’s taking both of your legs in each hand. He scoots himself in between them, leaning over your body and wrapping them back around his middle.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay? Is that alright?” You beg more into his kisses, hands roaming over every inch of him before he’s grabbing himself by the base and pushing into you. You both gasp at the intrusion as you claw at his back and he fists the sheets beside your head. He’s burying himself back into your neck as he bullies his way past your tight ring of muscle, moaning about how this is so much better than he imagined. You don’t have time to think much on his words before he slams his hips up into you.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Dove. Does it hurt?” He’s panting even harder now, his restraint seemingly holding on by a thread as his hips gyrate once more before a string of curses spill from his mouth again.

“Please keep going.” As soon as your consent hits his ears, he’s reeling his hips back and into you once more, setting a hard and deep pace as his powerful groans fill the room paired with your wanton moans.

He unwraps your legs from his waist to bring them to your chest, hands holding them in place underneath your knees as he watches his cock ram itself in-and-out of you. Hypnotized by the creamy ring around the base of his prick, and the vice grip you had on him; he almost neglected to give attention to the rest of you.

Pulling his eyes away from you cunt, he’s now watching your face, your head had fallen back and your tousled hair splayed against your pillow. Your lips are kissed raw and wide open to allow your cries of pleasure to escape. Your eyes are screwed shut but reopen when you feel the intensity of his gaze upon you.

“Shit, Angel. You don’t know what you do to me.” His hips pick up in pace, balls slapping against the curve of your ass as he shifts his knees, ramming his cock against your G-spot. Stars dance beneath your eyelids, lips stayed parted in a silent scream as your pussy spasms around him.

“Fuck Baby! Feels so good inside you— hah!” It seems you had only just started, but the feeling of his cock pummeling in-and-out of your had you lightheaded.

“So deep.” You squeaked, hands digging further into your pillow as your legs twitched in his hold. You didn’t even seem to realize how much you were shaking, down to each tremble of your toes.

“Come on come on come on…” his cock was throbbing erratically inside of you, bullying your cervix with every thrust, his hot breath fanned your face as he squeezed your legs tighter.

“Fu–Fuck! You’re my little–my little slut, aren’t you? Yeah?” From anybody else, you would’ve berated them for talking down on you like that, but his words only fueled your desire, squeezing his cock, white hot pleasure quickly building back up inside once more.

“Yes– yes!” You couldn’t hold it back anymore, coming on his cock with a cry, the squeeze of your pussy has him following behind shortly after with a shout of your name and a chorus of: coming, coming! before sputtering, hips coming to a halt as he fills you with ropes-and-ropes of hot semen.

“Fuck, Baby…” Riding out his high, he continues to grind himself into you, letting you milk him of everything he’s worth. He let’s go of his hold of your shaking legs before falling on top of you. He enjoys the feeling of the cool metal of your nipples against his chest as smiles, nuzzling his nose into your cheek before followed by a wet kiss.

“You’re too heavy…” You complain sleepily, pushing weakly at his shoulders, urging him to move. He laughs weakly before pulling out, hissing at the feeling of cool air hitting his softening cock. You whine at the loss, and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you.

“C’mon Sweetheart,” he says, picking up with one hand over your ass and one in your hair as he carries you out of your room and into your bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and we can sleep, how does that sound?” You smile and nod into his neck. Even with his cum dripping onto your new carpet, you seem to finally feel satisfied.

#i apologize for my mini hiatus #its studying for exams timesss #booo #its been hell #sorry if this seemed kinda rushed #it was hot but i kinda wish i put a little more effort #wtv #we love hiiiim #hawks mha #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks bnha #hawks smut #keigo takami #keigo x you #keigo x reader #takami keigo #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #hawks fluff #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fluff #mha fluff

[monstrousfemale]

After the world finally stops threatening to end, sometime in late 1989, Steve quietly gets a tattoo across his ribs. It’s something personal and private, something he just needs etched into his skin because to not have it there would feel like a lie. He feels disconnected from himself, he feels alone, he feels like bullshit. Going into Indianapolis for the weekend and shoving the handwritten line at a tattoo artist is the most human Steve has felt in forever. The sharp pain of the needle followed by the dull ache of the healing process finally grounds him.

No one but Robin hears about this, though. And turns out outside of saving the world, now that he doesn’t swim as much, Steve doesn’t have that many excuses to take his shirt off anymore. So, the tattoo is a secret by omission, and Steve is fine with that. It’s his thing, and it doesn’t have to be exposed for it to mean as much as it does.

And it does mean a lot. It’s a mark of a new beginning, something physical to prove to Steve he is still around and kicking. 

And after that, life feels livable again. He has his friends, his only real family. He is managing Family Video now, after the owner had moved out of town due to world-almost-ending experiences. He is finally settling into being someone he actually wants to be.

Most importantly, Steve keeps in touch with Eddie as much as he can. They’re hanging out on and off all the time, falling into an easy routine without either of them meaning to. And by 1990, before either of them knows what hits them, they’re fumbling in the backroom at Family Video, making out against a shelf, VHS tapes raining down on them like falling in love: fast, hard, unexpected.

It’s all a blur of finally expressing things they had been keeping hidden for too long. Sharing secrets at midnight, back and forth with the pass of a joint or two or five. And after they start, they couldn't stop even if they had wanted to. They need this good thing. And they both know too well how fast the shit hits the fan around them. So, they don’t care for taking things slow, not after years of dancing around each other. All this to say, it doesn’t take long at all for Eddie to find himself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

He’s sitting against the headboard, watching as Steve gets rid of his clothes. He had been expecting an almost childish awkwardness from Steve, because Eddie knows he hadn't done this before, not with a man. Not that Eddie has that much experience to speak of himself, but he had come to terms with it way earlier. It doesn’t matter what he had expected though, because in truth Steve is smooth, sexy even. He removes his clothes with purpose and devastating eye contact. He gets rid of his pants, and then his shirt is coming off – finally, finally messing up that amazing head of hair of his.

Eddie almost gets too distracted by Steve's intensity to notice the tattoo. When he comes closer, though, Eddie places his hand over his ribs. Instinctively, he just has to look and see what his skin looks like against Steve's skin. And there it is, right by his fingers. Pitch black ink, already healed over, already fully Steve. The words are stark against his pale skin. I want to be adored. Eddie has the air knocked out of him.

Steve looks down, confused for a moment. "Wha-?" he starts to ask, but then his brain catches on. Steve feels self-conscious, kisses Eddie to distract him from what he'd found. He hadn't known this is how he would feel, had never felt ashamed or embarrassed of much about his appearance before. And this isn’t quite shame. But this is Steve, bared, naked, in ways that go above a state of undress.

Eddie breaks the kiss, hand splayed over Steve's chest. "Fuck, Steve. When did you get that?"

"A while back. It's nothing." It is everything. It means so much to Steve, he'd never have the words.

Eddie's eyes soften, skimming the words again and again. The smile that graces his lips is tiny, a kind little thing Steve usually only sees on his face whenever he is around the nuggets, Max or Dustin usually.

"I can make that happen," Eddie says, honesty dripping from his words. It isn’t his usual, larger than life rambling. This is Eddie seeing him, really seeing him.

"What?" Steve asks, to diffuse the tension. A self-sabotaging little jab at their clear connection, because he actually thinks he knows exactly what Eddie means.

"I can adore you, big boy," Eddie says, and his playful spark was back. He winks, pulling Steve close by the shoulders. He gets both of them on Steve's bed. Steve's chest aches.

"Shut up," he says, because he doesn’t know how to accept something like this. Doesn’t know how to process that anyone would care, that anyone would pay attention.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him, flips them on the bed so he can straddle Steve's hips. Eddie traces the ink on his skin like it is precious. He kisses Steve hard, kisses his love into his lips, pushes it into his mouth like he does his tongue.

"I do adore you," Eddie says later, after they're both tired and spent and sated. After sex has made things fuzzier. It feels so simple now. It is so true.

"Eddie," Steve starts, ready to tell Eddie about all the ways in which he, Steve, is fucked up. Instead: "Thank you."

"Hey, I got you."

And Eddie does, he really does.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddiesteve #steveeddie #eddie x steve #steve eddie #eddie steve #idk what this is #it just came to me in a fever #enjoy i guess hopefully #ficlet #might eventually crosspost this to AO3 #but i wanna post my real fic first #monstrius writing #monstrous bigboy

[biancadjarin]

Bully!Eddie x fem!reader in the library

more bully!eddie here

masterlist here

18+

“Eddie stop.” You whine into the air as his lips trail wet kisses down your cheek to your neck. “I told you I’d help you study, that’s the only reason I came.”Eddie’s hands hold your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. He’s diy’d his white Metallica shirt by cutting the sleeves off but he overestimated with the scissors so now the arm holes are huge. You’re grateful for his mistake though, the smooth, tattooed skin of his torso on display. Your hands grip his exposed biceps, which are more toned than you thought they’d be from under his leather jacket. Said jacket is long forgotten on a chair back in the middle of the library, along with your books and notes. Far away from where you two are hidden amongst the bookshelves.

“Isn’t there anyone else you can bother?” “Hmm…” he pretends to think, “Probably. But I choose you.” He says against your skin. “Mmph I had to jerk off in the bathroom during lunch because of you.” He says, accusing you. “As soon as I saw you in this dress. Fuck.” His breath is so warm on your icy skin, his plush lips like pillows against your neck. His hands rub down your dress roughly and reach underneath to squeeze your ass harshly.

“No Eddie, don’t.” You say, squeezing his arms tighter. The muscles beneath his skin tensing and flexing as he gropes you. God they feel so good. “Don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted to happen. Such a little slut. But you’re my little slut, right?” His warm, wet lips whisper into your ear, panting and exhaling like he’s just ran laps. The grasp you have on his arms goes from pushing against him to more relaxed, melting into him. You squeeze his arms gently when his breath tickles your ear. Your mind gets cloudy with desire, wet spot starting to form in your panties.

Eddie pulls back slightly to look at your face, noticing the change. Your big eyes stare back at him, lids heavy, begging him wordlessly not to stop, to keep going. He grins and goes back to whisper and lick at your ear sloppily. “Oh you like that don’t you? My girl likes when I kiss her here?”

You bite your lip but a soft moan escapes. You don’t even bother denying it, there’s no use. Your hands run up his tattooed arms to rest gently at his long neck, his pulse thumping under your manicured fingertips.

He groans at your noise, his hands squeeze harder at the doughy flesh of your ass before traveling to the front and pushing your dress up to your waist, not caring if someone sees.

You wiggle to try to pull it back down but he has it fisted in one hand, his other tickling your slit through your panties. You squeeze your eyes shut, scared to look him in the eye when he discovers how turned on you are.

His fingers rub up and down the seam of your pussy through the thin lace. “Fuck, I knew it. Look how wet you are. Such a dirty girl, letting me do this to you in public.”

You whine and shake your head. “No?” He asks in a teasing tone. “No what?” “I don’t like this, Eddie. I don’t like you.” You say weakly.

He barks a laugh and lets your dress go to grab your face, fingers curling into the skin, forcing you to stare at him. The middle finger on his other hand pushes your panties to the side and begins to swirl around your wet folds. His face gets lost in your hair, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, his favorite.“Of course you like me. Who else would be this good to you?” He says, his voice strained. “You better not let anyone else do this with you. Ever. I’ll find out.”

.

.

.

.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #mean!eddie munson x reader #mean!eddie #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #bully!eddie #bully!eddie x reader

[ash-is-dying]

Temporary Tattoo

A/N: Felt compelled to write a quick blurb after drawing one of these on my own hand. Idk guys the delulu is really getting to me today. Anyway enjoy!

Shy!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 782

Fluffy / Mildy Spicy Blurb

---

“Just stay still Eddie!”

“But you’re taking forever!”

The pen runs over his knuckles as you outline the bones on his hand. You had spent the entirety of calculus at the back drawing on Eddie’s hand. He had breached the topic of getting a skeleton hand tattoo so you had made the generous offer to be his temporary tattoo artist.

His various rings had been scattered across the desk and the sleeve of his hellfire shirt had been rolled the full way up his arm exposing his actual tattoos alongside the detailed sketch on his left hand. You sat knee to knee with the boy as the arm you’re drawing with pins his arm to the table and the other holds his hand flat.

For someone who was covered in hidden tattoos you’re genuinely surprised by how much he moved while you were working and how whiney he was being about you taking too long.

“How long?”

“Eddie I haven’t even done your wrist yet. Chill your balls. We’ve still got half an hour anyway.”

He throws his head back and sighs deeply. His other hand starts to fidget, miming the chords for some metal song or another. His eyes close and he looks like a toddler who’s been denied chocolate from the shops. His head lolls to the side to look at you.

You’re completely oblivious to the look he gives you as he studies your concentrated face, biting your lip and your brows furrowed as you smoothed over the outlines you had drawn. Unbeknownst to you the real reason he was so all over the place wasn’t because the tattoo was taking too long.

It was because you were the one drawing it.

When you had started your gentle touches had left him flinching, moving towards your warm hands. Hence the need for physical restraint. Eddie’s cheeks flushed the moment you had wrestled his arm under yours, your closeness making his heart jump start. He could spend hours here just having you draw all over him. He’d let you fill every gap between his tats if it meant he could keep you like this.

The only reason he was now encouraging you to hurry was because he didn’t need the artist girl he’d been crushing on for months noticing the semi he was sporting. He had tried to slide further under the desk to make it less obvious but the hold you had on his arm was making things increasingly harder.

In both ways.

“I don’t think we need to do the wrist, just my hand is fine-” he said sharply.

“But didn’t you want a half-sleeve anyway? Thought you wanted me to try the whole tattoo.”

“As cool as that would be I kinda need my arm back sweetheart-” He says with an edge of panic in his voice.

“Okay okay, I’ll be done in ten.”

The next ten minutes were probably the longest ten minutes of his life.

For the fine detailing you had made the decision that you needed to get even closer. You had rotated his arm and had folded your leg over his, just adjacent to where he desperately needed you not to be. He watched anxiously as you shifted to finish off the tattoo. He genuinely tried to sink into his chair and disappear. If you had even a hint of what was happening under the desk he would be absolutely mortified.

“Why do you get so many tattoos Eds?”

Her sudden question pulls him out of his head. “Oh- um. I guess because they look cool? And they help me express a part of myself that I want to show people rather than tell them about.”

“Fair enough.” There’s a long pause. “Can I ask you something?”

Eddie’s brows raise in concern. “Yes?”

“Do you get this turned on for all your tattoo artists or just me?”

The silence is deafening as his eyes widen in shock and realization. He stutters as you move off of his lap unable to find the words. The bell goes and you begin to pack up your things not sparing him a glance until you put your hand on his shoulder and lean to whisper in his ear.

“If you ever need another tattoo done… call me okay.”

You give his cheek a quick peck as you turn away and walk out of the room with a flush on your face, leaving behind an extremely flustered and red faced Eddie. He looks down at his arm. It’s amazing of course. But what really catches his eye is the messily written phone number on the underside of his arm.

Maybe he will get another temporary tattoo.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #blurb

[13as07]

Spitting Image Prequel

(Gaara Sabaku Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Bev-Nap]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 4,240

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Alcohol drinking/Drunk sex

Soft boi virgin Gaara

Praising/“Good Boy”

Hickeys/Scratch Marks

Mommy kink (you can’t convince me that Gaara doesn’t have a mommy kink)

Pleasure kink

Begging

Oral (female receiving)

Creampie

———————————————————————

The neon lights of the bar cut through the darkness, pulling me towards it like a moth. This day has sucked, this week has sucked, this month has sucked. Plus, the promise of cheap margaritas is almost impossible to deny. I'm a sucker for a cheap alcohol-induced night.

     "Welcome in! Margaritas are two hundred yen a glass tonight!" The short-haired bartender calls out, a toothy grin on her face.

     "Start me off with a strawberry margarita," I order, sliding into an empty barstool at the counter. "Then slide me a lime one once it's done."

     "So start your second one as soon as I'm done with your first?" She asks a laugh following her words.

     "Ya, pretty much," I giggle out too, slapping my ID onto the counter before laying six hundred yen on top. "Keep the extra as a tip, love."

     "Damn, already sweet talking me. One strawberry and one lime marg coming up," the bartender says, snatching up my ID and the cash. She glances at my ID, checking my age before sliding it into the tab box alongside another twenty or thirty others.

It doesn’t take long for my drinks to come. As promised, I down the first one before taking my time with the second. As I’m sipping on the lime drink, the taste of it justifying the price, a voice rings out. “Sorry ma’am, but is this seat taken?”

I turn my head towards the voice, a shorter man with a head of shaggy red hair at the end of the sound. His hair interests me, it’s a dark red instead of the normal pale-red gingers tend to be. I wonder if it’s a dye job. “No, it’s not taking, sunshine.”

“O…oh,” the man stutters, slowly sliding into the stool next to me. “Thank you, for the seat,” he mumbles, a hand running through his hair. When his hair flips up because of the movement, a tattooed red mark is exposed on his forehead, only interesting me even more.

“Of course. No lady likes to drink alone,” I answer, the buzz of my margs setting in. “No girl likes to buy her drinks either.”

The man’s eyes blink slowly, exposing the black circles around his eyes. How cute, a hot ginger that’s good at eyeliner. “Would… would you like me to buy you a drink? Is that what you’re asking?”

I let out a deep laugh as a smile cracks across my face. “You don’t get hit on often do you?”

Another round of slow blinking before a soft “no” peeps out.

“Yes, I’m asking you to buy me a drink.”

The man’s face scrunches, nonexistent eyebrows smashed together. The red is totally a dye job. “What would you like to drink?”

“A mango margarita, please, sunshine.”

Mr Sunshine stumbles over his words as he orders a drink for himself and me. His eyes are wide and stuck on me as we wait for our drinks, the intenseness of his stare poking at my nerves. “So… I haven’t seen you around the village before. Are you from the Leaf or just passing through?”

“I am from the Village Hidden in the Sand.”

“Oh, that’s… cool. Whatcha doing here then?”

“I was meeting with your village’s Hokage,” he mutters, eyes flickering down to our drinks being set on the countertop.

“Oh, so you’re a Shinobi then?” I ask, my interest sparked even more. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m a bit of a band chaser. I don’t know what it is, but Shinobis just do it for me. Besides, they’re the best for one-night stands. There’s a million of them and they’re usually too busy for anything more than a rang and bang.

“Um… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” I ask, downing my drink quicker than I probably should. “Well, if I ask if your hair is naturally red are you going to say you guess so?” I add, shifting closer to the man.

“I… um… yes, I’m… I’m naturally a redhead,” the man stutters, his cheeks quickly growing the same shade as his hair. “And you… you’re really close to my face.”

I let out a hum, slowly backing away from the shinobi. “Sorry, I’m coming off a little strong,” I mutter, waving down the bartender, who goes into action starting another drink. What’s that? Number four? Maybe I should slow down. Mr Shinobi is still nursing drink number one. “Not much of a drinker are you?”

“No, I am not. I’m only here because my brother wants to ‘get blasted’ before his wedding,” the man says, the words ‘get blasted’ falling out of his mouth like it left a nasty taste behind. “I am just here because he said I have to be.”

“What is it that you don’t like about drinking?” I ask, trying to push the conversation forward.

“I do not like my senses being unbeneficial. Besides, most alcohol does not taste good.”

“Well duh, you ordered a double shot of whiskey. If you want something that tastes good you need to get something fruity, like my margaritas. Want to try?” I push my untouched glass towards him, encouraging him to try something different.

“My sister says margaritas are girly drinks.”

“So? Who cares what your sister thinks?”

The man’s eyes settle on me again, his eyes round and full of confusion. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because I’m a little more than buzzed and you’re a little more than hot,” I answer honestly, shifting closer to him. I rest a hand on his knee, resting my head against his so I can whisper in his ear. “Besides, I love the sight of a ginger on his knees.”

“You wish to have sex?” The man asks, his eyes widened again and hands fluttering up and down my arms. “You… you wish for me…. To…?”

I let out a few giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek before I settle in my seat again. “Yes, but not until I slow down or until you catch up a bit, Sunshine.”

The Shinobi blinks a couple of times before his focus shifts to the drink I pushed toward him. He picks it up, downing it in a few gulps before setting the glass back down. “I do not like mangoes.”

I laugh again, sliding my nails over the inside of his thigh as I do so. “We could have ordered you a different flavor you know. What fruits do you like?”

“Apples.”

“Then let’s get you an apple margarita, ya?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, leaning closer as his eyes glare into mine. The closeness and intensity spook me a bit. “You are a strange person.”

“Why do you say that?”

“People usually don’t enjoy my… company.”

“You’re pretty, I don’t know who wouldn’t enjoy your company. But enough about your looks, you got any hobbies?”

The boy seems even more confused like he’s never given his looks any thought. “Plants,” he races out, eyes glancing at the apple-mixed drink that the bartender has left on the counter.

“Oh ya? I love plants. Willow trees are my favorite though,” I say, going on a ramble about the planet. The man nods along with my rant, his eyes locked on me the whole time. They’re pretty, slit, and a soft opal color. Dear Lord, all I can imagine is those pretty eyes looking up at me as he sits on his knees. “What’s your favorite plant, sunshine?”

“Barrel cactus!” He races out, blinking at me on repeat again. I get the feeling the man has never talked about himself before. “I… I mean, barrel cactus,” he says in a softer tone this time.

“Ya? Why’s that?”

                   ————————————

     The Sand Shinobi clung to me is as red as his hair, cheeks heated as his head presses into my neck. “You are pretty,” he murmurs against my throat, his body weight pressed into me.

“You are hot,” I compliment back, swaying a bit because of the man’s weight and the alcohol flowing through my system.

“No, you are like really pretty and nice and your skin is so soft, and oh my that sounds murderous,” the redhead mumbles on and on, his hands sliding over my bare arms as he nuzzles his nose against me. “You are so nice. Did I tell you that? You have been really nice to me. I want you to feel nice. Let me make you feel nice. Please?”

The high-ranked shinobi’s ‘please’ comes out whiney, turning my gears even more as I unlock my front door. “Ya? You want to make me feel nice?” I mumble, throwing my things onto the table next to the front door.

“Please? I want you to feel nice, so bad. Let me make you feel nice,” the redhead begs, his hands wandering up and down my shirt, gripping the material like he might fall over without me.

While we were at the bar we talked about what he does for work. I don’t know what any of the things he said meant but he kept talking about the Kage palace so he must be some kind of high rank ninja. Having such a highly regarded shinobi begging to go down on me only turns me on more.

“You want to make me feel nice, sunshine?” I ask, shifting in his hold so we’re face-to-face. His head shakes like crazy, and his eyes are soft for the first time tonight but still locked on me like I’m the core of the Earth. “Be a good boy and kneel for me, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathes out, sinking to his knees, his hands sliding down to grip my hips as he moves.

“Dear lord,” I mutter, the sight of the shinobi looking up at me rushing arousal down my body. His head is lead against me, chin gently pressed against the waistband of my pants, eyes locked on me, and hands gripping my love handles. “You look so hot right now.”

“You are beautiful. You are the moon. You are the stars hung in the sky,” he mutters, eyes intensely on my face as he looks up at me. “But I do not know what I’m doing.”

“What?” I ask, toying with the ends of his hair. “Have you never gone down on a girl before?”

“I have never done… anything with… anyone,” he mutters, cheeks heating up again as his eyes flicker around. “But I do wish to make you feel nice. Tell me how to make you feel nice. Please?”

“Ah… are you sure?” I ask, tugging his arms off of me. “We’re both drunk. This isn’t how you want to lose your virginity,” I continue to ramble, walking away from the man kneeling on my floor.

“No, please. Pretty please?” The man begs, crawling across the floor after me. “You’ve made me feel good all night. Let me make you feel nice,” he begs, wrapping his arms around my hips again and burying his head into my stomach. “Please?”

I let out a sigh, toying with his hair again as he nuzzles my stomach. “Alright, sunshine. Let’s go into the bedroom though, okay?”

The Sand Shinobi lights up at my agreement, his hands sliding up, picking me off my feet as he stands up again. He’s a bit wobbly as he adjusts to his drunken balance and my added weight. He’s still a bit unbalanced as he tries the doors, opening the spare room packed full of storage before he opens the door to my room. “You’re really pretty,” he tells me again, settling me on the bed.

I lock my legs around his waist, keeping him stuck on top of me. “You’re really hot,” I echo, shoving my hands into his hair as I tug his face down.

I crash my lips against his, rubbing myself on his growing bulge. “Oh my… you’re… we’re…” the redhead mutters into my mouth, his hands crawling up and down my sides. I let out a giggle, using my hold on his hair to shift his head to the side. “You, you, you… you’re…” The words stumble out of him as I brush my lips across his neck, softly sucking on his skin every couple of kisses.

“Do you want me to stop?” I mumble, working a hand out of his hair to toy with the hem of his shirt.

“No! Please, no. Please keep going,” he gushes out, hands clinging to my hips, pressing me down against him as he takes over our humping. “I want… I want to make you feel good. Tell me… tell me how to make you feel good.”

“Slow down a bit, sunshine,” I hum, tugging his shirt up. My eyes flicker a bit, rolling over the outline of his stomach muscles. “Take your shirt off for me, okay?”

The man moves quickly, sliding his shirt off and tossing it to the ground before settling back in his spot. “Now what do I do?” He asks opal-eyes stuck on me as he waits for his directions.

“Keep moving your hips,” I order, the man going straight to rubbing against me again. I let out steady breaths, trying to keep my mind straight to work our way through this. “That’s it, you’re being such a good boy,” I mumble, tugging my shirt off too.

“I’m… I’m what?” He asks, soft eyes blinking like crazy as his pace picks up. His eyes flicker between my face and my chest, mouth almost watering as he looks at my boobs.

“You’re being a good boy,” I repeat, gripping his hair to tug his face toward my chest. “Keep being a good boy. Kiss and suck on my chest as you hump me, okay?”

“Yes… yes, ma’am,” he whispers, lips brushing against my chest, occasionally testing different ways of sucking on my skin. “It’s… there’s marks,” he whines, nose nuzzling me before he litters my boobs in more kisses. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave marks.”

“I like marks,” I coo, raking my fingers through his hair. “You can leave as many marks as you wish.”

“I… I want… take it off,” the Shinobi husks out, a hand sliding under the wire of my bra. “Please take it off. Pretty please? I want… I want to suck on… please?”

A smile slides onto my lips from the sound of the redhead’s desperation. I give into his wants, sliding my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. An audible whimper spills from the hardass shinobi when my boobs tumble out, his eyes blown out and entangled in my chest. His eyes flicker up to mine, his question stuck on his lips. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

With the permission voiced, his head dips down, his tongue sliding out to cup my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. My hand searches for his, gripping it and tugging it up to my free boob. “Fuck, sunshine,” I whimper, working my hips against his as he toys with my chest.

“Hey,” I hiss after a couple of minutes, tugging his mouth off of me.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry,” he rambles, his desperation soaking out from his eyes, quickly coating his face.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” I soothe, gently pushing his head down my body. “You just sucked a little too long, it’s no biggie.”

More sorrys tumble out of him as he kisses down my stomach, both hands on my chest now, squeezing my boobs as his mouth coats my torso. “I… what do…?” A whine falls from him, his inexperience getting to him.

“Sunshine, please calm down. You’re working yourself up. I’ll walk you through it,” I tell him, my fingers sliding under my waistband to tug my pants off. The ginger’s fingers wrap around the band too, quickly tugging my pants down my legs.

Once he’s back between my legs, my hands fall on his hair, slowly shifting his head down. “Can… I want… please?”

“Do whatever you want, sunshine,” I coo, twirling his hair around my fingertips. He jumps right in, coating my thighs in kisses and soft suckles as his hands grip my legs. His fingers dig into my flesh, sifting my legs open and closed around his head.

“I…” he mutters, tapping his nose against my underwear. “I want…”

“What do you want, sunshine?” I ask, toying with him as I grind myself against him. “Use your words like a good boy.”

“I want to go down on you. I want to taste you. I want you to feel good. Please? Mommy please?” I snap his head away from me, the bedroom name ringing in my head. “I’m sorry,” he races out, his opal eyes shiny and wide as he looks at me. “I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s… fine. It just called me off guard is all,” I mumble, shifting his head back into please. I let out a few deep breaths before letting my hands go gentle in his hair again. “You still want to make Mommy feel good?”

“Yes,” he races out, littering kisses across my panties. “Please?”

“Ya… ya, make… make me feel good, baby.”

Another whimper falls from the man between my legs, his lip hungrily kissing my thighs as he tugs my underwear off. “What do I do?” He asks, eyes scanning my exposition before jumping to my face. “I just… lick at you, right?”

“Kind of, ya. You can move your tongue in and out of me too, or if you can find my clit you can suck and lick at that.”

“And your clit does what?” He asks, bending back down to bury his head in my pussy before his tongue starts sliding between my folds.

“My clit is a bundle of nerves that make me feel really good - and that’s it,” I moan out the second half, clinging to the roots of his hair. “Right… right there, baby.”

The Shinobi’s eyes jump up, locking in my face as his tongue swirls around my clit, running over it again and again. After a couple of licks, he changes direction, sucking on the bundle as his eyes scan my face. “Fucking… lord, baby,” I moan out, my back arching as my climax crawls forward. “Don’t, don’t, don’t change anything, you hear me? Keep doing that?” I order, my breath picking up as the edge moves closer.

He does as told, continuing to suck and swirl his tongue around in the way I’m enjoying. “Fuck. God damn it. Baby,” I whine, shoving his head further into me as the band in my stomach snaps.

Once I settle down from my high, the shinobi pops up from between my legs, eyes sparkling, and face covered in my mess. “Did I do good? I did good, right? Mommy, right?”

“Right,” I mumble, trying to steady my breathing. “Come here,” I call, leading him up my body. “You did so good. You’re such a good boy,” I coo, littering his face in kisses. A smile small crosses his face, eyes soft but still intense as he looks at me. What a weird little sandman.

“What do I do now?” He asks, head decking down to cover my chest in kisses. “Can I do it again, Mommy? Can I go down on you again? Please? Mommy please?”

“Not right now, sunshine. I want you to fuck me, okay?”

“Really?” He asks, his breath airy as he asks the question. “Can I? Can I really?”

“Ya. Let me grab a condom first,” I answer, leaning over to snap open my side table drawer. I dig around the drawer, searching for a rubber. “Um… do you have a condom?” I ask, shifting around the drawer some more.

“No, do you not have one?”

I let out a sigh, snapping the drawer closed. “No, I don’t, I’m sorry. Maybe if you’re in the village tomorrow - ”

“No,” he whines, burying his head in my chest, nuzzling my boobs as he whimpers. “I have to leave tomorrow. Please? It’ll be fine, right? One time won’t do anything.”

“You do know that sex leads to - ”

“I know how kids are made. Come on! Please? Pretty please?”

“Alright, okay. Just… don’t finish in me,” I give in, hands dropping down to work him out of his pants. My cheeks heat up as my fingers slide over his length, the soft virgin boy being bigger than I thought he would be. “Lord,” I mutter, working his pants the rest of the way down. Well, he definitely is a natural ginger.

“What? What’s wrong?” The Shinobi starts to panic, his eyes jumping around my body. “What did I do?”

“Hey, calm down. You work yourself up too much. You’re just… bigger than I thought you were going to be,” I mumble, settling my hands on his waist to shift him around.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, the opal of his eyes pooling into my view. The shinobi stumbles a bit, finding his balance above me. His hands settle on the sides of my head, nose pressed against mine as he looks down at me.

“No,” I breathe out, slowly using my hold on him to push his penis into me. “It’s… it’s a good thing, baby. A really good thing.” His chest pumps as he slides into me, his eyes fluttering as he looks down at me. “Okay, okay, um… do you think that you can move yourself in and out?” He nods his head quickly, mouth hung open as he sucks in oxygen. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Mommy. Yes, I can. I can… I can move myself,” he mutters, his hips moving back and forth, tugging his dick in and out of me. “Mommy,” he whines, head barring into my neck.

“Sunshine, move a little faster,” I ask, my nails digging into his waist. “Please, baby.”

“Yes, ya, whatever you want,” he races out, his pace picking up. I’m shifted up the bed because of his thrusts, the tip of his dick bullying its way into me. My nails race across his sides, tearing into his skin as I’m forced up the bed, the promise of scratch marks left behind. “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy,” he whines, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Hey,” I call out, digging my nails into him harder. “You should probably…” a moan cuts off my next order, fingers digging deep enough that I can feel his blood trickling onto my fingertips.

“Damn it,” he whines, burying himself into me, his movements stalling as his hands jump down to cling to my sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry,” the redhead whines, head dipped onto my shoulder as he bottoms out in me. “I’m really sorry,” he whines again, the warmth of his cum filling me up.

                   ————————————

     My heart pounds as I push open the door to the convenience store. It's been a month... or two since I've had my period. I'm sure it's nothing, that the stress of life is just getting to me... but you can never be too sure.

     The sound of my blood rushing rings in my ears as I stroll around the store, eyes flickering around for the aisle I need. It doesn't take long for me to find the family planning aisle, only increasing my heartbeat.

     I feel like I'm going to throw up as I settle in front of the wall of pregnancy tests, quickly scanning over the pink boxes. I grab the cheapest one, figuring it’ll work just as well as the rest.

The sound of the test moving as I walk only makes my nausea worse. I’m sure I’m not pregnant, I’m sure it’s just stress. The test will come out negative. It’s just me crossing all my Ts and dotting all my Is.

“Hello! Did you find everything alright?” The cashier asks, an empty smile on her face.

“Ya, I did,” I mutter, placing the box on the counter.

The cashier’s eyes flicker between the box and me for a second before she scans it. “Would you like a bag?” She asks already placing it into one of the propped-up paper bags. “Your total is twenty-three hundred yen.”

I place the money on the counter, snatching the bag and the recite from the lady before turning on my heels. Panic and blood rush through me as I head toward the store bathroom. It’s going to be negative, this is just a precaution.

The lights of the bathroom are so bright that it almost blinds me, only adding to my stress. It’s just to check, it’s not going to be positive, it’s just to cross it off the possibility list.

I repeat the empty promises to myself as I take the test. My anxiety claws at my chest more and more as I wait for the test to process. How could I be so stupid? How could I let a one-night stand not use a condom? I always make them use one and then a hot sand shinobi shows up and all of a sudden my senses go out the window? What the hell? I can’t be a single mom. I can’t do this alone. But it’s fine because I’m not pregnant.

I shake the stick for a second, slowly opening my eyes to look down at it. “Well, shit.”

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#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden smut #gaara sabaku x reader #gaara x reader #gaara oneshot #gaara sabaku #gaara sabaku oneshot #gaara smut #gaara sabaku smut

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Plus One chapter 2.

Note: a more tattooed Sihtric has finally entered my fic universe. @finanmoghra requested a second chapter for the Plus One fic, and this is a direct follow up. thank you so much! I had so much fun with the first one, and I personally really enjoyed this follow up too. Hope you'll like it!

Warnings: suggestive/fluff.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you and Sihtric went from being a fake couple to becoming a real couple during your aunt's wedding. And even though you had been friends for a long time, you still surprised each other. And Sihtric surprised your mother too.

wordcount: 3,3k

Masterlist

'That savage sleeps here?'

As soon as you and Sihtric got in his car, you both wasted no more time to finally show how much love you had for each other. Sihtric leaned over to your seat, and he carefully cupped your cheek while his other hand settled on your thigh, and he pulled you in for a kiss. At first he kissed you sweetly. Gentle and soft. But when you snuck your hands under his tuxedo jacket, pulling him a little closer by his waist, Sihtric turned into the rough and passionate lover he truly was. And as your parents couldn't keep an eye on you in the parking lot, he didn't hold back anymore either. His hands explored your clothed body while his tongue became familiar with the inside of your mouth.

Sihtric enjoyed biting and sucking your lips as he kissed you until your lips felt bruised, and his soft hums and chuckles made you lightheaded the entire time.

When he finally pulled away from you, after the intense make out session, he gently held your face with one hand, and said he'd been waiting years for you to ask him if he wanted to go home with you. And he didn't mean going home with you in a platonic way.

'More in a… I-desperately-want-to-fuck-you-all-night kind of way,' Sihtric smiled devilishly and winked before he started the car.

'You better get out of that dress, lady,' Sihtric said with his sly smile and raspy voice, after he had thrown you on your bed.

You were quick to strip down to your lingerie, while Sihtric unbuttoned his white blouse as he kicked off his boots. His tuxedo jacket was somewhere on the stairs, as you had pulled it off him already when you stumbled your way up together to your bedroom, kissing each other intensely.

You flung your dress off the bed, and you were about to take off your heels when Sihtric stopped you.

'No,' he said sternly, and then his sly smile appeared again, 'leave those on, baby.'

'Are you serious?' you chuckled.

Sihtric leaned in as he stood at the end of your bed, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you with one swift move towards him. 

'You think I'm not serious?' he smirked and stared down into your eyes.

You felt completely flushed at Sihtric's strength. But also at his voice, his appearance, and the fact he was actually standing almost half naked in your bedroom. He had been in your bedroom before, but never like this. And you couldn't bring out another word when he stripped himself off his blouse, fully exposing his muscular, tattooed torso and his toned arms. His biceps were also covered in tattoos, which he usually kept hidden under a t-shirt, and the sight of it all right now made you feel dizzy.

'Thought so,' Sihtric winked as he brought his face closer to yours. He took your chin between his tattooed fingers and spoke softly. 'You know,' he licked his lips, 'it would make me really fucking hard if you'd take my belt off for me, babe.'

He smiled as he let go of your chin, and gently took your hands, guiding them up to his leather belt. You stared up at him with big eyes, completely smitten and aroused, and you happily did what he asked. Sihtric looked down at you with a half smile and bit down on his lip, humming as he watched how you carefully took off his belt. You threw his belt on the floor and he took your hands again, bringing them up to his tattooed chest, and he guided them slowly down his body, to his crotch, and your face heated up again when you felt how hard he was. You felt his cock twitch against the palms of your hands, desperate to be freed from clothes, and Sihtric moaned softly when you teasingly rubbed your hands over him.

'Hmm,' Sihtric hummed and threw his head back with a smile, 'fuck, baby. Yeah, you caused that,' he chuckled softly, and placed his hands on yours, pressing your palms firmly against his erection, and he slowly bucked his hips, 'hm,' he clicked his tongue and looked back down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, 'you gonna take care of that for me?' he smiled.

'Y-yeah,' you sighed as you unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down.

You forgot he always has a knife attached to his ankle, and you nearly moaned at the sudden sight of it.

'You keep that on?' you smiled, looking down at his holster.

'For you, I will keep it on,' Sihtric winked, 'because you're keeping your heels on for me,' he said and kissed your lips, before he pushed you down on your bed.

'Oh, shit,' Sihtric said out of breath, as he sat on the edge of your bed, 'fuck,' he sighed and turned to look at you, 'baby, you're- you're insane,' he laughed and raked his fingers through his short, messy hair, 'I mean, gods, I never had a girl as kinky as you,' he said in between heavy breaths and he smiled. He has known you for all this time, yet he never expected you to have this wild side, but he loved it.

Sihtric leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

You chuckled, your cheeks still flushed from the hours of hot sex you just had with your "bad boy" boyfriend.

'Sorry,' you grimaced and then laughed.

'Absolutely not,' Sihtric said and he pulled you up to him. He wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tight. 'You're exactly what I want and need in bed,' he smiled and kissed your lips again, 'gods, I love you,' he hummed and nuzzled your nose.

'I love you,' you smiled and kissed his reddened cheek, which you had slapped numerous times when you were on top of him, which drove Sihtric wild and he kept telling you to slap him harder while you were riding him.

'I'm the luckiest man alive,' Sihtric smiled sweetly as he looked into your eyes, 'but,' he sighed and suddenly looked troubled, 'also the hungriest.'

'Hungriest?' you frowned, 'babe, you ate like ten mini bowls of peanuts before we left the wedding.'

'Exactly, mini bowls,' Sihtric scoffed, 'I'm a big guy, honey,' he shrugged, 'and I'm starving.'

'Okay,' you laughed, 'eh, but I don't think I have much in the kitchen right now to be honest.'

'Not a problem, lady,' Sihtric smiled as he pulled up his boxers, 'because I'm going to McDonald's.'

'Chicken nuggets?' you rolled your eyes and watched his tattooed thighs disappear when he pulled up his fancy trousers.

'Yeah,' Sihtric scoffed, almost offended that you thought he would get anything else there, 'come with me,' he said and smiled, 'get dressed, honey.'

'Fine,' you chuckled, and you got dressed into some more comfortable clothes than your wedding party outfit.

Sihtric asked if you had a shirt that would fit him as he put on his leather boots, but you didn't have anything in his size. He grabbed his white blouse off the floor and didn't even bother to button it up, and you enjoyed his tattooed body with those fancy clothes. You looked at him and noticed his shoelaces weren't tied either, and you thought he was just wildly arousing when he looked in the mirror and brushed his hands through his hair.

'You want something, sweetheart?' Sihtric asked as he pulled up at the McDrive intercom.

'Nah, I'll have one or two nuggets from you,' you shrugged and looked at him.

Sihtric gave you a sudden death stare. 

'Baby, I'm not sharing my nuggets,' he said sternly, 'I'm sorry, but…' he scoffed, 'it ain't happening, princess.'

'Are you serious?'

'I'm really fucking serious, honey,' he stared at you.

'Geeze,' you chuckled, 'fine, get me one of those small boxes then with like six pieces.'

'Okay, love,' Sihtric immediately smiled sweetly again and kissed your cheek.

You heard a voice through the intercom asking for your order, and you watched Sihtric request a ridiculous amount of chicken nuggets, and you actually felt embarrassed. Did he really say sixty? Sixty nuggets? SIXTY? You stared at him, not understanding how he was in such an insanely good shape with all the junk food he ate.

'I'm sorry, what?' Sihtric suddenly said, which brought you back to the conversation.

'I'm sorry, sir,' the employee said over the intercom, 'but we're out of nuggets.'

Sihtric stared at the intercom, then turned to look at you, completely bamboozled, and then he turned to face the intercom again.

'S-sir?' the employee asked after a long silence.

Sihtric took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Why?' he asked.

'W-why? I don't understand, I'm sorry,-'

'Why are you out of nuggets?' Sihtric asked, as calmly as possible, but you weren't sure if he was really trying.

'Well it's… it's the weekend, sir, and it's past midnight. I'm really sorry-'

'Yeah, okay, but I want my nuggets,' Sihtric said curtly and he threw his hands up.

'Honey,' you whispered and placed your hand on his arm.

'We don't have any, I'm sorry. We do have chicken burgers, which is almo-'

'Don't you dare say that they are almost the same,' Sihtric hissed and pointed his finger towards the intercom, leaning slightly out of his car window, 'because they are not!'

'S-sir, they are actually made of the same-'

'No!' Sihtric shouted at the speaker, 'No! No, lady! It's not the same!'

'Sir-'

'No!'

'Babe,' you sighed, and tried to take his hand this time.

'No,' Sihtric said, calmly, as he gently brushed your hand off him and he stared at you, 'baby, I want my fucking chicken. I'm hungry,' he said with big, sad eyes.

'Yeah, I get that, honey, but they ran out. They can't just magically make them appear,' you shook your head lightly, 'it's fine, hon, we can go to Burger King, they have nuggets-.'

'Burger King nuggets?' Sihtric interrupted you, fully offended this time and less calm, 'you- you want me to… honey bun,' he said, then took another deep breath and held your hands, 'I love you, darling, but please, don't suggest the nuggets from Burger King again. Ever.'

'I… eh,' you blinked.

'Sir? I'm sorry, but if you don't want to order anything else-'

'I want to order my nuggets!' Sihtric snarled at the intercom.

'I already told you-' the intercom voice got drowned out as a car behind you honked twice.

'Hey! Order or leave!' the guy behind you in line shouted through his open window.

'Oh, I don't think so,' Sihtric muttered, and before you could react, he already got out of his car.

'Sih-, oh, fuck,' you groaned, suddenly remembering that your brand new boyfriend is infamous for his late night Mc Donald's parking lot fights.

Sihtric stormed towards the driver and you jumped out of the car, running after your hungry Dane. 

'Babe!' you yelled, 'get back in the car, please!'

But Sihtric didn't hear you. He was focused on his hunger for chicken nuggets, which he couldn't seem to eat tonight, and he was about to make it everyone's problem. He leaned against the car as he sought trouble with the driver who had just honked. 

It all looked ridiculous, yet stupidly arousing, the way Sihtric leaned in with his white blouse open, his tattooed upper body barely covered, while wearing fancy tuxedo trousers and untied black boots, with his hair still messy from the sex you just had. And it all happened at the McDrive, past midnight, because he was hungry.

'You got a problem?' Sihtric asked with a threatening tone and he gave the man a cocky look.

'N-no,' the driver said, his eyes darted over Sihtric's body, 'I- I just wanted to order food and go home. But you are block-'

'Yeah?' Sihtric snapped, wide-eyed, 'I want to order food too and take my girl home again!' But guess wha-'

'Sihtric!' you snarled and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the car, 'what are you doing?!'

'Getting my fucking chicken,' Sihtric huffed, and then stalked to the restaurant's main entrance.

You were sure he wasn't drunk anymore, although he did have quite some wine at the wedding, but his behaviour was as hilarious as it was concerning. You could only stand back and watch it all happen. And just as you wanted to walk inside the restaurant, Sihtric was already shoved back out by the manager.

'Leave, boy,' the managed said, sternly, 'you leave on your own, or we call the cops.'

'The cops?!' you frowned as you neared Sihtric, who desperately tried to not fight the manager.

'Yeah!' the manager said, 'we know this guy by now. Always looking for trouble when he can't get his nuggets. Listen,' he looked at Sihtric, 'you earned a life-long ban now, you got that? I warned you last time already. If we ever see you again here, we will call the cops.'

'Oh, really?!' Sihtric snarled, and he reached for his ankle; his knife.

'No!' you yelled and took his wrist, 'no, baby,' you said, 'l-leave it.' 

Sihtric fought your grip, but then you took his face in your hands, directing his mismatched eyes to yours.

'Sihtric!' you said, firmly, 'we go home, honey, okay?' your voice softened, 'don't fight tonight, baby, please? It's already been an eventful night. I'm tired, let's just go home. You even left your car unlocked and running, blocking the drive-through…'

Sihtric's anger had weakened while he looked at you, and then he just looked sad and full of regret.

'I'm sorry, baby,' Sihtric said softly and pulled you against his chest, 'I… I just wanted my chicken nuggets.'

The next morning you woke up rather early because your mother called you. She wanted to visit you as she was still in town now. Well, she probably wanted to inspect your house and complain about every little thing she didn't like, but she called it a visit.

You immediately got dressed and you told Sihtric that your mother was coming over. You ran downstairs, quickly doing last night's dishes, which you had left in the sink after you had cooked a whole meal for Sihtric after the McDonald's debacle, before you finally went to sleep. 

But Sihtric was only half awake when you had told him about your mother, so he hadn't grasped a single word of what you had said. He just hummed a soft 'mhm, okay, love,' as he turned around in bed to snooze. And when he woke up half an hour later, he was surprised to wake up alone. He took a shower before going downstairs, but first, he threw yesterday's clothes in your washing machine.

Your mother greeted you with a smile but it immediately left her face when she saw Sihtric's boots in your hallway. She'd recognize those awful things anywhere, she thought.

'That savage sleeps here?' she grimaced.

'He's not a-,' you sighed, 'yes, Sihtric is here, upstairs. In my bed.'

'Hm,' your mother gave you a disapproving look and pushed past you.

'I really think you should look for a more decent man, my child,' she said as she swiped a finger over your tv screen, and she made a face at the tiny layer of dust she collected, 'like that Finan, who lives across from us,' she smiled.

'Mom,' you exhaled sharply, 'I'm with Sihtric. Just accept-'

'He may have sweet talked us all before you left, but I won't forget his vile, suggestive talk, and the way he looked at you like a... wild beast,' she said and shuddered, 'and then his appearance,' she shook her head, 'you know, he could easily be one of those troublemakers I read about in the local paper this morning.'

'What troublemakers?' you frowned, annoyed, and watched how your mother inspected your dinner table for any crumbs.

'Yes,' your mother sighed, 'apparently some kind of animal stirred up trouble at a McDonald's last night. I read they banned the bastard, as they should.'

Your eyes grew wide and you swallowed hard.

'O-oh,' you chuckled, nervously.

'I just hope that boyfriend of yours is not that much of a peasant,' she faked a smile and pinched your cheek, 'now, I'd like to see the backyard,' she said and pushed past you again.

Your mother inspected your backyard, like the tyrant she was, you thought. You gave her a nasty look as she had her back turned to you, after she had said that the mixture of flowers in your backyard was an odd one. And as your mother walked further into the yard, you turned around and saw Sihtric had made his way downstairs, and you felt relieved to see him. You needed him by your side to face your mom, but then you froze, your eyes grew wide and your jaw dropped. Sihtric was standing in your kitchen, completely naked as he switched on your coffee machine.

You made an indescribable noise, one you had never made before, and your mother turned around with a frown, but luckily she was blinded by the morning sun.

You quickly ran inside your house, into the kitchen, and you shoved Sihtric back upstairs as fast as you could.

'How was I supposed to know that the old witc-... your mother was here?' Sihtric hissed quietly as he sat on your bed, still completely naked.

'Sihtric, I told you when I got up!' you whispered, angrily, 'and where are your clothes?!'

'In the laundry, hon,' he shrugged and leaned back on your bed, fully exposing himself, and he enjoyed your incredibly flushed face.

'Fuck,' you sighed, 'look, I also wish my mom wouldn't come over, but she's here,' you said, 'so… please, love, cover yourself up. You can't… you know, just…'

'Oh, please,' Sihtric gave you a cocky look, and he brought his left leg up to your bed, resting his arm on his knee as he leaned back on one elbow, like one of those sculptured Greek gods, and he grinned, 'baby, you love the view,' he smiled slyly and gestured proudly at his manhood.

You smiled and bit down on your lip. Sihtric was right, you did love the view, but now was not the time, and you sighed.

'Sihtric, pleas-'

'Oh dear god, mother Mary and Christ!' your mother suddenly yelled behind you.

While you were too busy bickering with Sihtric, you both didn't hear your mother was making her way upstairs, wondering where you had run off to. And there she laid eyes on Sihtric, who sat on your bed, proudly showing you his private parts in full glory without any shame. And your mother felt unwell at the sight of his tattooed body, the obscene position he was in, and the sinful smirk on his face.

And when you turned around after hearing your mother's shriek, you and Sihtric both saw how she fainted.

While your mother slowly regained her consciousness, Sihtric had gone and put on your robe, after you had more or less yelled at him.

Your mother sat on your bed, her head was still spinning, and Sihtric had moved to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, while you quickly ran downstairs to get your mother a glass of water. But she wouldn't need it.

While you were downstairs, your mother slowly turned her colour deprived face towards Sihtric, who sat back in the chair with a grin as your robe just barely covered him up. He sat with his arms up, hands behind his head, while his tattooed legs were wide apart on purpose.

'Ma'am,' Sihtric said, with a mischievous smile, 'good morning.'

Your mother feigned a smile and felt sick again.

'You're not the first one to faint at the godly sight of me,' Sihtric smirked, and your mother muttered a prayer as her eyes darted over his tattoos.

'Gonna get your daughter's name tattooed on me soon,' he grinned, and your mother groaned softly at the idea.

And Sihtric wasn't done yet.

'Anyway,' Sihtric sniffed,' now that you've seen all of me, I guess you understand why your daughter had that leg cramp the other day, huh?' he winked.

And before you could even walk out of your kitchen, your mother had already made haste to get out of your house, not even closing the front door before she ran to her car and drove off.

'What the fuck happened?' you asked Sihtric.

'I don't know, babe,' Sihtric shrugged as he took off your robe, 'but I think she won't be back anytime soon.'

'You think?' you chuckled, shyly again as you looked at his perfect, naked body in front of you.

'Yeah,' Sihtric said, and he took your hand, pulling you back in bed with him, 'now,' he said with a sly smile as he looked at you, 'I need you to show me what your favourite part of my body is, that's not yet covered in ink.'

'And why is that?' you smiled as your hands trailed up his muscular, inked biceps.

'Because I told your mother I'd get your name tattooed on me,' Sihtric grinned.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #modern!sihtric

[realitydisco]

More minecrafters should be drawn with tattoos!

I think smajor deserves to be covered in Rainbow watercolor tattoo (almost Anthony Padilla style)

Lizzie would have a big koi pond theme; maybe a back piece

Skizzleman with his irl arm tattoo as well as his fanon angel wings being tattoos at the least

Pearl would have a cute patchwork style all over her legs

Stress would have some adorable florals and butterflies as a chest piece/ sleeves

Tango with maybe a cool "exposed machinery" type look

Impulse with some simple black pieces. Maybe even a tribal type but mostly hidden. Only little bits showing on the back of his neck or when his sleeves ride up.

Etho being absolutely blasted and barely anyone knowing because he always wears long sleeves and gloves

#smajor #ldshadowlady #skizzleman #pearlescentmoon #tango tek #tangotek #etho #impulsesv #they deserve ink #minecrafter headcanons #stressmonster101

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Read on AO3 here!

*********

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

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

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

The man is the definition of “fine”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

********* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wish his hands were working you instead. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END. 

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