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alltheirdamn · 3 months

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway.

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion.

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes.

You’d never love again.

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road.

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays.

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life.

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love.

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake.

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded.

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved.

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough.

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil.

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better.

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long?

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again.

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement.

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks.

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone.

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled. And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance.

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest.

“What was that?” Maria chirped.

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you.

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you.

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles.

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes.

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked.

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally.

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement.

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home.

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit.

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.”

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true.

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before.

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours.

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly.

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there.

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous.

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in.

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch.

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget.

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk.

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated.

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents.

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out.

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see.

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here.

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing.

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip.

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased.

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body.

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips.

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned.

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer.

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?”

Was he… flirting with you?

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care.

“What other flavors do you like?”

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered.

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered.

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered.

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency.

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality.

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away.

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?”

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends.

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach.

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked.

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly.

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built.

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained.

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you.

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer.

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud.

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door.

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder.

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car.

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear.

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner.

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck.

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior.

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar.

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness.

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile.

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light.

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably.

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction.

“This is me,” you sniffled.

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked.

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

#joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

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senawashere · 7 days

Text

We're on this together...(Chapter VI)

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Stupid kids.

Little note: Carol and Nick is still alive.

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

July 22, 2022:

It was almost six weeks later that Bradley became suspicious.

They both hadn’t spent much time together since the last time, and he wanted to make up for lost time with his wife. So he decided to take a day off and make breakfast while you were still in bed.

He whistles as he makes the pancakes, turning around every now and then to check the coffee on the stove the way you like it. He puts the missing dishes on the tray, completing the breakfast you’ve been making for years; maple syrup, coffee, pancakes, hash browns, and toast.

He jots down the note, “I’ll always love you :).”

He hears you coming down the stairs and mentally prides himself on his perfect timing, quickly organizing everything and turning toward the door frame that separates the kitchen from the living room.

You enter the scene as he scratches his tangled nest of hair and tries to adjust the pj's that have been tossing and turning throughout the night, his face is imprinted with pillows and Bradley feels like he’s going to faint from how beautiful his wife is.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Hm.” You just smile, you don’t like talking to anyone when you’re barely awake and he knows that so he doesn’t force you.

You open your eyes and stop in your tracks when you see your breakfast, looking at your husband with a small smile and a blush on his face.

“Oh, Bradley!”

“It’s been a long time since we had breakfast together.” He mutters and you settle between his legs (you sat down so you could eat with him) and walk over to him to take his face in your hands, placing small kisses on his sparsely stubbled face and lips.

You sit down and the two of you start eating, chatting from time to time.

He looked proud of himself as he watched you eat pancakes with maple syrup, but you tasted the coffee and spit it back into the cup.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" He asks you with a hurt expression on his face.

"I'm sorry honey, but it tastes awful."

You reply with a grimace as you pour yourself a glass of apple juice to drink it all down.

Bradley takes your coffee from you and takes a sip; it tastes perfectly normal, very good if he has to admit, but he decides to leave you alone and let you continue with a glass of apple juice.

You were happily continuing to eat, of course, until you popped a small piece of egg yolk into your mouth.

Bradley doesn’t have time to complain when you’re throwing up in the sink anyway.

He quickly drops his coffee and walks over to you, grabbing your hair and patting your back until you pull yourself together, wiping your face with the sleeve of his shirt as he looks at you.

“I don’t feel so good.” You mumbled with a pout that made Bradley’s heart ache.

“It’s okay, honey.” He pulls you into his chest. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll put everything aside and join you as soon as I can.”

You nod and look into his eyes. “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

He smiles sadly as he brushes his sweaty hair from his forehead. “You didn’t mess anything up, to be honest, I was really looking forward to staying in bed with you.”

You leave and ten minutes pass while Bradley gets breakfast, maybe saving it for later. He’s washing the cups when he notices something while one of them drying in the sink.

He picks up his phone with his half-dried hands and opens the conversation he had with his mother a week ago.

"Everything is fine honey. Your cousin is pregnant and can't handle eggs and coffee so we're taking care of her now. Kisses, honey, I love you and Y/N!! 💕💞😘"

Eggs and coffee.

Eggs.

Coffee.

He grips the marble countertop as he tries to catch his breath.

Could it be..?

God, he's going to faint at the thought.

He couldn’t believe he had such a good memory to remember such a mundane message between his mother and him.

You run your hand over your face as you trie to come back to reality if she’s pregnant…or not..

Damn it, you can’t think straight, and if it wasn’t for Duke jumping on the counter and barking in your face, then you’d still be going crazy.

You turn off the faucet and run upstairs, ignoring Bradley's fuzzy nerves as he enters your shared bedroom, you stare at him in fear.

“Take a pregnancy test.” That’s all he says, and you get out of bed in confusion.

“What?” You ask, approaching him. “Are you okay? You look pale.” You cup his face.

“Yeah, yeah.” He responds excitedly, letting you examine his face.

“Just, please, you have to.”

“Okay, I’ll do it and you’ll calm down.” He looks into your eyes and nods. “Come on.”

Bradley can barely control himself as you pee on four sticks to make sure, wandering the bathroom and bedroom until you come out.

“We need to wait five minutes, do you want to explain what’s going on?”

You both sit on the bed and hold his hands to comfort him, which does the trick.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but do you remember when my mom told me Marienne was pregnant and couldn’t stand eggs nor coffee?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh my god. What do you think..”

“I don’t know.” Bradley shakes his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

The minutes pass and the both of you gets crazier and crazier; You feel like you're going to tear your hair out in desperation, and Bradley wants to throw up again for the tenth time as he playes with his rings.

There has to be something else, he doesn’t even know how to take care of babies, was it his paternal instinct? no, this is stupid, maybe he’s not going to be a father and he’s just going crazy.

He’s an idiot, now your hopes are up and he doesn't want to have to see the look of disappointment on your perfect face again.

So lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice you get up from behind him to re-enter the bathroom, slowly reappearing with four tests in your hands, unable to take your eyes off them as you mumble;

“Positive.”

Bradley raised his head as soon as he heard you, his eyes met your now teary ones and he stood up, approaching you, ypu are showing him all the positive lines that showed your baby growing inside you. His fucking wife is pregnant.

You put them down and throw yourself into your husband's arms, clinging to each other, making you both fall backwards onto the bed.

You cry into Bradley's chest while he cries into yours.

You feel like you're going to faint from the tears and sobs pouring out of both of your bodies, a tremendous happiness fills your entire body as millions of things go through your head. Same for him too.

Bradley talks to pregnant women's bellies, Bradley holds a small chubby baby, Bradley plays the piano with a small child, Bradley rocks a baby, Bradley and your babies will be like this.

Sooner or later, it would all come true.

Meanwhile, Bradley is still crying as if he's never cried in his life, you're sitting with him in your arms and he moves his hands between them to rest on your belly. "There's a baby inside," he says, his voice breaking.

You laugh and lean your forehead against his. "There's a baby inside."

Both of you look at each other, your eyes fill with tears and you both start laughing, you kiss, ignoring the salty taste of teardrops. You kiss, trying to convey everything that cannot be expressed in words to each other, but now there is someone who proves that their love is possible.

"A perfect blend of us,there it is." Bradley's and yours belly felt like there were fireworks inside. He can't wait to sing and play the piano to his love's growing belly, to hold that tiny hand.

He just can't wait.

"I love you." He sees the tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you part your lips. "I love you Bradley, we did it."

"We did it." He repeats, squeezing your waist between his hands. "We did it, we're having a baby, I told you."

"I can't believe you found out because I threw up your breakfast."

"Because you would never throw up something I make, I'm an incredible chef."

Both laugh again and Bradley flips both of you over, laying you between him and the bed, laughing at the kisses he spreads across your face, neck, and lifting the robe slightly to reveal the soft skin of your belly.

It was keeping his baby warm in there.

Duke seems to notice the happiness that is coming from the room, he climbs into bed and cuddles up to his mother’s chest, who is happily caressing Bradley's hair and cheeck's.

Bradley kisses the area on your belly as you stroke Duke's scalp, and his tears continue to flow when he sees you talking to Duke about the baby.

He whispers something, but you and maybe someone else can hear him clearly.

“Welcome home, baby. You are already loved.”

“Yeah, I always wanted to have your stupid children.”

THEY MADE IT🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

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itsdingdong · 6 months

Text

Come Home To Me -Drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x girlfriend!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive, Profanity

Word Count:: 1990

A.N: I didn’t specify her occupation. She’s a career woman. Unedited, I might come back to it, wrote it on a whim.

Song: come home to me by Justin Bieber

"I'm home," your boyfriend announces his arrival. It's your last night together before he heads off to serve in the military. It's been a rough few weeks for both of you, especially for him. You know he's not ready to leave, especially at the peak of his career. Not only that, but his career consumed so much time that spending moments with loved ones became a rare luxury. He never had separation anxiety, yet here he is, struggling to leave everything behind for two years.

He left for the gym a little over an hour ago. Deep down, both of you knew he'd rather have stayed and done nothing and everything with you. Sadly, the uneasiness became overwhelming, visibly making him look shaky and pale. You suggested he go out and blow off some steam, and he left to try that.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm so sweaty."

"Yeah, okay."

And there's tension. You know it's not personal, but it makes you nervous anyway. You're undeniably going to miss him a lot. No, you don't show it to him because he's already in a vulnerable state. He's been trying to make the best of his solo era before he's rid of one of the craziest highs one gets – fame. You know he's not ready to leave all that behind. How you see it is that it's a learning curve and a point in his life for him to grow and mature. That's what the military does to boys. They take a leap into becoming a man. That's one of the pros you can see. You're as obliged to wait as he is to go, so you stopped whining about it as soon as you found out about the enlistment. He needs your support more than ever, so that's what you're giving him, period. Maybe it was one of the things that gave girlfriends the wife material quality – who knows?

With both of your hectic schedules, it was hard enough to spend much quality time together. When you did, it was the utmost best. Those times made the whole deal worth it. Two tired people in need of love and compassion met in an unusual place and easily fell in love as literal soulmates. Soulmates with little to no time to spend. You just wanted to support him as much as you could. It wasn't like you were never going to see him during the service time, but you'd very much rather have him come home to you, even if it's just to spend the night in bed, sleeping.

Your chest has been squeezed tight since a couple of days back. You watched the V-Live he'd done while you were away, and you weren't happy about it. People wouldn't leave him alone with their uncalled-for negativity when he was extremely generous with his limited time to make people who supported him happy. From stans accusing him of abandoning Bam, his baby, to them following him around – which he got a scolding from you for showing his address.

He's a strong man, one of the toughest you've met. And he manages to stay kind, humble, and polite. Now, shit like this doesn't faze him usually, but nowadays, you're in awe to see how clueless and selfish people could be. They may not see it, but he gets hurt, and they are not the ones to pick up the pieces. And with that mindset, they wouldn't have been able to even if they tried. Despite everything, he did a final live to fulfill his promise. That alone shows how huge his heart is and how much he cares.

When done showering and changing into his sweats, Jungkook quietly joins you in the living room, a towel in his hand, drying up his shaved head. A small smile forms on your lips just by the sight of him. Damn, you're so in love with this man.

"Hey," he says as he drops himself down next to you on the couch.

"Hey," you say softly. His eyes look into yours for a moment, then they drop to the ground. He still looks sad, all puffy from crying too. "Come here. Please." He pats his chest, signaling you to hug him. Seriously, you don't need to be told twice. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he leans back, making you lie on top of him. You stay like that for a minute. Then 2. Then 10. Until you both fall asleep. It's a 20-minute nap before you feel him shuffle under you. You're so comfortable and peaceful in your current position to move or open your eyes; you just stay like that.

"I will miss you so much." The words come out as a shaky whisper. "I really don't want to go." His arms tighten around your figure. You don't want him to go either. It's on the list of things not to say to him.

"I know. I will miss you too, but I promise it'll pass in the blink of an eye."

He shakes his head before resting it on yours. All you want to do is cheer him up and give him all the hope you can for the following 18 months. To make him feel and know that everything will be okay. He's a mess, and you just want to rid him of all the upsetting emotions he's feeling right now. If only you could take his pain and stress away.

"We will all be waiting for you. I will visit you whenever I can. And I'll see you when you're home." If I'm here. You don't add that detail either. It's possible to miss him on his free days depending on your schedule, but he knows that already, and it's not worth mentioning at this very moment.

"I'll go see Bam as much as I can. I'll take photos of him. I know they will too. I'll make sure to visit your parents too." You finally raise yourself to look at his beautiful eyes. The well of tears brimming in them completely shatters your heart.

"I love you." He croaks, trying really hard to keep himself from breaking down. Though you wish he would if he needed to, but you wait and reply, "I love you more."

"That's impossible." He sighs into your neck, making you shiver slightly.

"Agree to love equally then?" You suggest playfully.

"Deal."

There's a brief comfortable silence after that. Your mind quiets down as you enjoy his warmth and strong arms around you. Eyes closed, you listen to his heartbeats as well as his breathing. Thankful to have him.

"Do you think I'll be forgotten when I'm gone? 2 years isn't a short time." He breaks the silence. His words slightly anger you because you know that it's impossible and you really hate it when he gets insecure like that when he has absolutely no reason to. But you know, no matter what, his worries are valid, always.

"Of course not. Who could forget such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful, funny, and caring man like you? I couldn't. Even if you weren't mine, you'd have definitely left an impact. And obviously you did because, like, ARMY, you know? Besides, you're really hot, if I do say so myself. Who could forget this face?" He smiles at your encouraging words as they warm his heart.

"I don't think I'm hot right now."

“Oh baby, how wrong you are. You look so hot even if you don’t feel like it.”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Sure, I’ll cry with you.”

“What? No, don’t cry. I’ll cry even more.”

“It’s okay to cry. I know you’re struggling, I’m here for you baby. I would prefer if you weren’t in such distress but if you are, let’s go through it. Together.”

Your words move him. He knows he’s loved. By millions and by the people he cares for the most. You? You’re different. You love him so honestly and care for him thoroughly, he can’t help but to feel extra grateful for your existence. He’s usually a grateful person but you make him thank whoever out there that’s hearing him a little more often. He knows you’re the one he’ll spend what’s left of his lifetime with. He’d marry you in a beat if it weren’t for your no marriage till babies rule. Which he’s okay with. But still, you just have to say the word and he’ll take you to the courthouse. You come second to his mother in terms of peace and comfort he can find in one but he’s okay with you switching spots when the time comes. You’re the safest thing that’s ever happened to him in such a dangerous world.

“You will wait for me, right? 2 years is a long time. What if you met someone?” You appreciate his honesty. Him being vocal about his fears. You appreciate that he doesn’t hide from you. All you wish is for those fears to vanish. There’s no way you’re leaving him. Ever.

“I will wait for you as long as you want me to.”

“I will always want you to.”

“Good. We have a deal then.”

“It’s almost 11, shall we go to bed? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” You suggest. He - technically you too - will have to wake up early. His parents were coming from Busan early in the morning to send him off.

“I’m not sleepy. Fuck, how am I going to fix my sleep routine, it’s seriously messed up.”

“I can’t think of a better place than the military for it.”

He pauses then laughs as it finally dawns on him. “How come I didn’t think of that?”

“You’re so out of it Jay Kay.”

“Mm, yeah. But I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Yup. Definitely. Also, we don’t have to sleep just yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I thought we’d cuddle a little.”

It’s probably what you’re going to miss the most in his absence at home: his cuddles,

“And a one last ‘see ya’ fuck before I leave?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he looks at you with a glint of mischief and lust in his doe eyes.

Maybe that too. God, he seriously has no shame… he was crying just now this little shit.

To that, you can’t help but to tease, “When you put it like that, I guess I’ll pass.”

“Babyy, please. You got me all excited and stuff.”

He’s cute. A cute guy that makes you smile. Always. Even now you are smiling.

His pouty lips look so plump and kissable. You’re so used to seeing the ring there, that it feels weird now that it’s gone. “It’s a good luck, ‘I love you’ and a please be well fuck.”

“Mm yes, talk dirty to me.”

But you don’t do that tonight when your bodies are wrapped under the sheets. Instead, you just affirm and make love to him like you want to make sure he feels all the love you want to give. Maybe for the first time in weeks, he falls into a serene sleep, snuggled into your chest.

“It’s time to go.” You hear someone yell. Time does fly whenever you wish it doesn’t. But it still does fly when you wish it does. You just need to allow it. Your heart squeezes a little but you try to breathe through it. He’ll be okay.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t get cold. Call me whenever you can.”

“I will do all that. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you. I’ll wait for you to come home to me.”

“I’ll come running, baby. Trust me.” He brings you in for a hug and gives you the quickest kiss allowed before turning away to say his goodbyes to his family.

You can’t wait for him to return but as he’s away, you wish him the best and in your heart pray that everything will be okay.

#jungkook #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #bts imagines #bts #btsoneshot #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook fluff

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daenysx · 1 year

Text

soft!aemond is back and he's cooler than ever!

requests are open!!

my masterlist

the right brother

modern!aemond falls in love with aegon's (ex)girlfriend.

this is the third time this week.

for the third time, he is in your bed, wrapped around your body like it's the only thing that helps him relieve.

he cannot help it. it has become an addiction. you have become an addiction and now he cannot stop.

aemond targaryen is a determined man, not when it's about you apparently.

he shouldn't share the bed of his brother's ex-girlfriend because why would he? why would someone do such a thing? why would aegon's girl fall for him instead?

calling you aegon's girl makes him feel desperate and furious. you and aegon have broken up almost two weeks ago and in those weeks, aemond gladly got into your bed with you.

he cannot even remember how it happened for the first time. the only thing he knows is that he finally had the chance to be with you.

admitting his feelings for you was hard, even when you were dating with aegon the feelings were there but he buried them deep, put his walls between you and him.

then aegon broke up with you.

now, you are breaking his walls slowly. he cannot resist you. all he wants is to hold you in his arms at the end of an exhausting day, no words just your warmth.

he doesn't care about aegon. aegon has already found himself a new girlfriend. aegon wouldn't care about you and aemond. he would only mock aemond and tell him that he couldn't find himself a girl instead he settled with his big brother's ex.

he was standing next to your bookshelf. he was watching you as you try to read the assignments your professor gave you. it was pointless to try anyway, he was here and your focus belonged to him entirely.

he came closer, took the papers from you. your eyes were swollen with the need of sleep. after breaking up with aegon and having a thing with his brother you tried so hard to keep your focus on your studies just to be busy. you didn't fall asleep unless aemond was with you and midday naps weren't enough.

"come on. you should sleep."

it began like this today. now he is here wrapped around you. he covers your body with his bigger body and it feels right.

"it's okay, just close your eyes. go ahead sweetheart."

you blink slowly, looking up to him.

"when will you stop?"

"stop what?"

"coming to me. will you ever leave me like your brother did?"

he breathes slowly as if he tries to keep himself calm and steady.

"i will not leave you. i'm not like him, i would never break your heart."

you feel dizzy and confused. it not the right time for a big talk but still you keep going.

"what if one day you regret being with your brother's ex-girlfriend?"

aemond chuckles darkly.

"i don't see you as his ex. i don't want to."

"why are you here, aemond?"

"i'm falling for you."

aemond targaryen is an honest man.

"really?"

"i know your heart is still broken. i'm not forcing you to do anything. all i want is to take care of you. take your time, princess."

the feeling of your tears overwhelmes you and you desperately bury your face to his neck.

"no, please. don't cry now, what is it?"

"i've ruined everything, dated the wrong brother and now you are being so good to me. i don't want to use you as-"

"shh, stop this now. come on, you are far too clever to believe in such a thing. it's okay, baby. nothing matters now that i'm with you."

"yes?"

"yes."

he is so sure of himself, you love hearing his confident voice. you make yourself comfortable in his arms, his long fingers are on your waist as you realize one thing.

he never kissed you.

he never crossed this line. all he did was to comfort you, try to mend your broken heart. he slowly erased the images of your awful relationship with his older brother from your mind.

you decide to be the brave one.

"can i kiss you?"

"you can do anything you'd like to me, pretty girl."

your lips are soft against his. it's a slow kiss with no rush, just like your relationship. your lips melting between his lips and you exchange your breaths.

he keeps his hands on your hair, rubbing the spots behind your ears with his thumbs. he doesn't stop kissing you, he lets you decide everything. everything that makes you feel safe and healed. he loves the feeling of taking care of you.

he wants to call you his girl.

he wants you to let him call you his girl.

he wants you in his arms, his lips on your lips and on your neck, everywhere you need him.

he wants to be yours.

this is the story of you finally being with the right brother.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye #soft!aemond #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader

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huhjxn · 1 year

Text

eavesdrop part II

kim chaewon x fem!soloist!reader

chaewon realized her mistakes and now her mind is plagued with the thoughts of you. she wanted nothing more than to apologize for the damage she's done but it isn't as easy as it seems.

! : swearing, angst (with fluff), harassment, stranger danger, chaewon is sleep deprived

4.0k words

read part I here.

"I'm craving pork belly right now," you said as you looked at your best friend, Kim Sunwoo. "Dude, same. I dreamt of eating pork belly and kimchi last week and I've been craving since," he replied.

"I ate pork belly yesterday with Sooyoung unnie and Hyeju," Park Chaewon said with one of her eyebrows raised as though it was such a big deal. Actually, it really was for both you and Sunwoo.

"Wow, I don't mind you ganging up on me in PUBG but this?" Sunwoo said, rolling his eyes, "Traitor." Gowon smirked as she saw how you looked so betrayed, and continued raising her brow to further provoke you.

"She's so annoying, I swear to god," you said, turning to face Sunwoo, making sure to sound like a Regina George dupe, "Like that face that she makes? Chaewon seriously gets on my nerves every single time."

As a result, Gowon shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes at you. You gave her a look that she always does, which made Sunwoo laugh.

Twisting and turning on her bed, a frustrated Chaewon finally sits up and grabs her phone from her nightstand. The glow of the screen was burning her eyes, partly because of its brightness and partly because it's 3:09 a.m. and she hasn't gotten even a minute of sleep. Yena's words kept echoing in her head together with the cruel words that she uttered to you which was accompanied by her bitchy actions.

To say that Chaewon felt guilty would be an understatement. It's been four days since Yena visited her in HYBE and she's been having a hard time sleeping, her mind replaying her encounter with you endlessly. She knew that she needed to make things right but how could she?

Chaewon remembered how she wanted nothing more than to apologize to you when she saw you at Music Bank two days ago. Seeing you stand there laughing with Gowon made her freeze; she watched how happy you looked, your eyes sparkling with joy, the smile on your lips were reaching your eyes, and your overall aura just looked so at ease. It was the complete opposite of you back when she confronted you in her dressing room. Chaewon also knew that if she interrupted you, that beautiful expression plastered on your face would leave faster than the speed of light.

She didn't want to do that; the expression that you wore made you look like a ray of sunshine, and Chaewon doesn't want to be the reason why thunderclouds would dull you up, even if she knows that she already plays that role in your life.

Looking back at her phone, Chaewon felt awful because she wanted to have a decent rest but the thoughts in her mind won't let her. Suddenly, she felt her stomach grumble. 'Well, I don't have anything better to do anyways,' she thought.

Chaewon got up from her bed and grabbed a stray hoodie from her desk chair, and got out of her room, making sure that she wouldn't make any sound. As she was about to go out, she heard footsteps shuffling behind her, "Are you going out?"

The short-haired girl turned around and was faced with their tallest member. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep," Chaewon said exasperatedly, "So I decided to go out and get food."

Yunjin nodded tiredly, rubbing her eyes, "Can you get me some chips too?"

Chaewon smiled at the girl before responding, "Of course, I'll be back in a bit," she said as she exited their dorm.

In all honesty, Chaewon had no idea what she wanted to eat. She is starving, yes, but the amount of thoughts that were already occupying her head was so much that she couldn't think of what to get despite seeing numerous convenience stores as she walked.

The girl decided to enter the next convenience store, knowing that she doesn't have enough energy to walk any longer. Grabbing the basket, she browsed the shelves and searched for the chips that she knew Yunjin liked.

While checking every aisle, Chaewon felt goosebumps all over her skin, which was somewhat unusual. She dismissed it because it was probably just because of the temperature. She then proceeded to grab a few snacks for Eunchae, and decided to settle for a packed meal that needed to be reheated at the counter.

As she was about to pay for her stuff, she could see a figure of a person by her peripheral vision, but decided to pay no mind to it. Besides, it's normal for sleep deprived people to buy at convenience stores at this time… right?

The girl handed her card to the cashier. After paying, the cashier left to microwave her food, so she decided to look behind her and just as she expected, the figure was gone. The cashier returned to the counter to hand her the food, which Chaewon grabbed with a small smile that reflected her exhaustion.

Chaewon left the store and opened her phone to send a quick text to Yunjin,

are you still up? i just left the store, i'm omw back

After hitting send, she placed her phone back in her pocket. It was still relatively dark, and most of the stores were still closed which meant that there were only a few sources of light on the street. Suddenly, she felt goosebumps once again and the unsettling feeling of someone staring at you. As she was about to look behind her, she felt a body collide with hers.

"Kim Chaewon," The girl felt her whole body freeze. She dreaded for something like this to happen, and she now regrets going out, "You're Kim Chaewon, right?" The strange man asked her, his hand on the girl's shoulder, hindering her from making any sudden movements.

She knew how risky it was to wander through the streets at this time, especially since she's alone. Chaewon could feel the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. 'This is all my fault,' she thought. For once since meeting Yena, her mind was occupied by something that wasn't you, but this frightened her. Nothing could ever prepare her for the danger that she's faced with right now.

Due to her lack of response, the man forcefully shook her, and that's when the tears ran down her cheeks, then suddenly, she heard a voice speak.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chaewon shut her eyes tightly, she felt the man shuffle behind her before he spoke, "Oh, I'm just talking with my girlfriend, we were just arguing but everything's fine and there's nothing here that concerns you."

Chaewon felt the man grip her shoulder tighter, which made her groan in pain, "Are you sure about that? She doesn't seem to be fine."

Suddenly, it clicked. Chaewon did her best to look behind her, and despite her blurry vision due to the tears filling her eyes, she was able to meet your worried pair of eyes. Then, it felt like everything happened in slow motion. Chaewon saw you clench your jaw before lunging towards the man and grabbing him by the collar.

"I swear to god," The short-haired girl shuddered at the calm yet threatening tone you used, "I may not look as strong, but I can definitely take a scrawny guy like you, so unless you want to end up with broken limbs, I suggest you to leave."

You felt immense anger as you stared into the man's eyes which was filled with both worry and annoyance. He tried to pull back, but your grip on his collar was too tight that your knuckles turned white. Suddenly, you let go of his collar which made him lose his balance and fell.

"Fucking bitch," you heard him mutter as he dust himself off then ran from the scene while you made sure to watch him leave. Chaewon stood there silently, not knowing what to do nor what to say. She was grateful for your help but now she doesn't know how to deal with you. With all the pent up stress both from the fears from her situation earlier and your presence, she felt herself cry harder that she couldn't contain the sobs that she let out.

Suddenly being aware of your surroundings once again, your eyes traveled to the girl and you could feel your heart break at the sight. "Chaewon sunbaenim," you said, unsurely. The said girl looked up to meet your eyes but all you could see was the pained expression that she wore. You opened your arms with uncertainty but all the hesitation washed away once the girl lunged forward and wrapped her arms around your waist in an embrace.

Chaewon could feel your arms wrap around her body tightly, and at that moment, she knew that she was safe. No one could hurt her. You were there.

"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Should I call the cops?" You asked calmly, but the short-haired girl could hear the concern laced in your tone, and she couldn't help the fluttering of her heart accompanied by the warmth of her cheeks, "No," Chaewon answered weakly, "I'm fine, I just—"

Chaewon was interrupted by her own sobs. She felt embarrassed that you had to see her in such a state but the negative thought quickly left her mind as she felt your hand caress her hair and your other hand rub circles on her back, "Let's get you home, okay?"

You waited for the girl's response and you felt her nod. She untangled herself from your embrace and you couldn't help but miss the warmth that she provided. Chaewon started walking before you, and as she was about to reach for the food that she bought which were now on the floor, you held her hand and grabbed the bag with the other.

Chaewon looked up to your face but your eyes were already locked on hers, "Lead the way," you said with a small smile, and the girl could feel her heart explode.

The two of you walked in silence and Chaewon could feel your grip on her hand tightening every now and then as though reassuring her that you were there and that you wouldn't leave her side.

Eventually, you arrived at their dorm and Chaewon slowly unlocked the door before stepping in. "Chaewon unnie, what took you so long?" Yunjin asked before seeing you at their doorstep, "Oh, Y/N-nim, hi!"

You smiled in response as the taller girl ushered you into their apartment. "I was confronted by a stranger, but Y/N saved me from getting harassed," Chaewon said, the exhaustion in her voice was obvious even as she tried to hide it.

Yunjin's eyes widened at the revelation, but decided to drop the topic after getting a look at her leader. She knew better than to pry. The said leader went straight to her room as your eyes were locked on her. After seeing her enter, you handed the bag to Yunjin who accepted it with a smile.

You were about to leave when Yunjin's voice interrupted the silence, "Thank you," she said, quietly. You stared at her in question before she continued, "I heard from Yena unnie that you and Chaewon unnie aren't on good terms," she mentioned, and you wanted to give Yena an earful for not knowing how to keep a secret.

The taller girl smiled at you before continuing, "But I'm really glad that you helped her out." You gave Yunjin a genuine smile before replying, "Of course, I'm sure that if the roles were changed, your leader would've done the same."

She nodded at your words, "You should stay," you stared at her with wide eyes before she tried to clarify what she meant, "If you're not busy, I mean. I think you should stay with unnie for a bit, until she realizes that she's safe."

You nodded before agreeing, giving her one last smile before going towards the direction of Chaewon's room. The pounding on your chest was pretty much uncontrollable, but you chose to ignore it and knock on the girl's door.

"Come in," you heard Chaewon's muffled voice before your hand reached for the doorknob and entered her room. Her back was facing you but it did nothing to ease your nerves, "I just wanted to make sure that you're all settled before I leave," you uttered, hesitantly.

There was a long silence, and you were just about to retreat and leave when you heard her respond, "Can you stay?" Chaewon's voice was soft and unsure, and deep inside, her fears were eating her alive because why would you choose to stay with her when the last time you spoke with each other, she was such a douchebag to you. Despite that, she decided that there's nothing more to lose, "Please?"

With her back still facing the door, Chaewon could hear her heart pounding. After a few seconds, she heard shuffling and the sound of her door closing. She expected it. You didn't have any reason to stay. Her shoulders dropped at the realization that once again, she's all alone, just as she expected.

What she didn't expect though is for her bed to dip behind her, and for a hand to reach out and stroke her hair. Chaewon's tears began to resurface.

"Of course," you said, glancing at the back of her head, where your hands were playing with some of the strands of her hair, "I'm here."

You stayed.

Her tears started to fall and all she could feel was how drained she was with the week-long overthinking and the incident earlier, but at the same time, you were there with her. She had you, and it feels like that is all she needs at the moment.

You heard a quiet sob coming from the short-haired girl, and you have never felt so lost than you did at that moment. What happened earlier surely struck terror into the girl, and you had no idea how to console her. As a soloist, you were simply responsible for yourself and you didn't have other members to care for. On the other hand, Chaewon came from a 12-member group and is currently a leader of a 5-member group; the difference between the two of you is very noticeable.

All of a sudden, the girl turned and in an instant, you were met with her tear filled eyes. It was cut short because Chaewon wrapped her arm around your torso in a flash, hugging your body closely as though she was clinging for support. And at that moment on, you wanted nothing more than to hold her close regardless if you were on good terms or not.

Chaewon didn't know what came over her; with a sudden boost of confidence, she wrapped you in an embrace, knowing that it is all she needs to get rid of the unwanted thoughts that were clogging her brain. Unexpectedly, she felt your arm drape on her back, pulling her closer to your body as the other hand stroked her hair calmly, and Chaewon could swear that she's never felt more comfortable than she did at this moment.

"You should get some sleep," your quiet voice echoed in the silent room, "You don't have to worry about anything, I'll keep you safe."

The short-haired girl nodded weakly as she felt more tears fall onto your shirt. Chaewon was glad that her face was buried on your body because without a doubt, you would have seen how red she was if her face wasn't hidden.

Despite the fatigue that she felt, Chaewon didn't want to fall asleep just yet; she wanted to enjoy your company and how you held her so tightly against your warmth. Unfortunately for her, the exhaustion is already taking a toll on her and as the minutes passes, her eyelids started getting heavier, and she couldn't help but succumb to the deep sleep that awaits her.

Her body felt heavy all over as she awoke. That was the first time in a short while where she was able to get a good and uninterrupted sleep. However, instead of feeling recharged, she felt as though her body was underneath an elephant and she refused to get up.

But as she was just about to go back to sleep, she realized that her comfortable source of warmth was gone. She tiredly looked around her room and saw that you were nowhere to be found, and there weren't even any signs that you were there.

Chaewon felt disappointed but there's really nothing she could do about it. It's not like you were obliged to stay with her. Heck, she was a bitch to you, you didn't owe her anything. Perhaps she just might even be too spent last night that she imagined everything that happened in her room.

Knowing that there's no way she could sleep without your presence, Chaewon groggily got up from her bed before exiting her room. As she stepped out of the comfort of her private space, she was met with the scent of cheese balls, ramen, and fried chicken which made her stomach growl, 'Right, I wasn't able to eat my food,' she thought.

She then went straight to the kitchen area where she froze at the sight. There you were, cooking instant ramen while your back was facing the girl. 'She really stayed?'

"Y/N?" Chaewon called out hesitantly. You turned around, a bit surprised at her voice suddenly appearing behind you, "Hey," you said, a small smile forming on your lips, "You're awake."

Chaewon mirrored your expression as she slowly approached you, "Yeah," She looked at the wall clock that showed 12:56 p.m. "I'm sorry, I overslept, where's everybody?"

You returned your focus to the ramen, transferring the contents from the pan to the bowl, "Don't worry about it, I'm glad you were able to rest," you said, "Yunjin and Eunchae went to Kazuha and Sakura sunbaenim's dorm."

Chaewon nodded before taking a seat at one of the chairs. You placed the bowl on the table and prepared the plates and utensils that you and Chaewon were going to use.

The two of you ate in silence aside from the noise coming from the utensils and Chaewon humming at the cheese balls that you made. After having your meal, Chaewon picked up the used dishes and placed it on the sink. You followed her, watching her movements closely.

"I don't mean to pry," you spoke softly, "But how are you feeling?"

Chaewon leaned on the sink as she faced you, "I'm feeling much better now," she uttered softly, she looked up to meet your gaze and it took everything in her to maintain eye contact. She watched as you grinned, "That's a relief."

There was a short moment of silence until the girl cleared her throat, "Listen, Y/N," she started, "I would like to thank you," Chaewon said, studying your face, "I don't know what would've happened if you didn't show up."

You responded with a tight-lipped smile before speaking, "You shouldn't worry about it," you sighed before continuing, "You're stronger than you think, I'm sure that you would've been able to take him down even without me," you said, light-heartedly.

Chaewon gave a small chuckle before getting serious once again, "Also, I've been wanting to talk to you," she started. The short-haired girl lowered her gaze to the floor, avoiding your curious eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Chaewon prepared herself to finally say what she's been meaning to tell you, "I wanted to apologize," she said, softly, stealing a glance at you but immediately returning her gaze to the floor as though it is the most interesting thing that she ever laid her eyes on.

"I was so rude towards you after the shoot, I said mean things, I–" Chaewon inhaled deeply before speaking, "I'm really sorry. I was such a jerk."

Chaewon finally found the courage to meet your gaze and continued, "You didn't deserve any of that, and I'm really sorry," she felt her heart pounding, finding your expression frightening because she couldn't read you one bit, "I overheard you talking in your dressing room once, and I thought that you were slandering me."

"It was wrong for me to immediately assume that you were talking about me without properly confronting you about it, and my actions during our confrontation were inexcusable," Chaewon dropped her gaze once again, her hand subtly shaking because of the nerves, "I'm really sorr–"

"I know."

Suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around Chaewon's shaky ones which caused the girl to widen her eyes in disbelief, she looked up and was finally met with your eyes, "I know the reason behind your meltdown," you started, "I was just waiting for you to approach me and apologize."

Chaewon stared at you curiously, "What do you mean you know? How?"

You chuckled at her confused expression and the absurdity of your answer, "Yena unnie," Chaewon already knew what you were about to say, "Our friend can't really keep a secret, you know?"

The short-haired girl nodded, her cheeks tainted with pink hue due to embarrassment as well as realizing how close your distance was, "I can see how you could misinterpret what I said that day and why you were upset."

You grinned at her and said, "But you still have to make up for it, don't you think?"

Chaewon smiled shyly before asking, "How can I make it up to you?" You could feel your cheeks heating up; the way Chaewon looked at you made you weak in the knees.

"That depends on you," you said, your voice was barely audible, but due to your close distance, Chaewon was able to hear you loud and clear, "How do you plan to make it up to me?"

Chaewon's right hand let go of yours which she quickly placed on your shoulder. You stared at her in question, but she only grinned in response as she moved her hand onto your neck.

"Does it really depend on me?" she asked looking into your eyes for the go signal, "You might not like it," she said, with a hint of hesitation in her tone.

"Try me," you could feel your cheeks heating up and you're scared that Chaewon might take notice of it as well, "I am an appreciative person, I'm sure I'll be grateful regardless."

The short-haired girl smirked, taking that as her go signal. Chaewon leaned in closer and you could practically hear your heart pounding, so you closed your eyes in anticipation.

'She's so adorable,' Chaewon thought, rubbing small circles on your neck with her thumb. She leaned closer until she finally planted a soft kiss on your cheek which barely touched your lips.

After a few seconds, the girl pulled away, searching for your eyes to see your reaction, and she was met with a somewhat disappointed stare, "You know what?"

Chaewon tilted her head in question like a lost puppy before you continued, "I take it back, I don't think I'm an appreciative person," the girl laughed at your statement, her eyes twinkling with joy, "You weren't grateful with what I gave you?" she asked light-heartedly.

You shook your head no, "Definitely not," you said with a pout, and Chaewon wanted nothing than to kiss it away.

And so she did.

Suddenly, you could feel her soft lips on yours and if Chaewon didn't hold onto you, you were sure that you would have melted right then and there. You removed your grasp on her hand and held onto her waist for support, before kissing back.

You could feel her other hand travel to your cheek to keep you closer. Chaewon tilts her head to deepen the kiss, and you just let it happen.

When the both of you pulled away, Chaewon was breathing heavily while you chuckled, "What's funny?"

"We finally did something about that annoying tension," you said, still chuckling. Chaewon laughed with you before replying, "And I'll do it again and again."

And so she did.

#iz*one #kim chaewon #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim #kim chaewon x reader #kim chaewon angst #kim chaewon imagines #chaewon scenarios #chaewon x reader #chaewon #chaewon angst #huhjxn

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for not watching my sick goddaughter and then not wanting to watch her sick brother

*fake names used obviously

Two days ago I got a message from my goddaughter's mom, Nancy, saying that my goddaughter, Natasha, had thrown up at school. The reason Nancy let me know was because her husband would be picking up Natasha's little brother, Dennis, who I watch from 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM most days.

Anyway, I have an extreme, irrational fear of throwing up. So after Nancy let me know Natasha was sick, I was afraid Nancy would then ask if Natasha could come over to my house the next day along with Dennis. Nancy works the night shift so she sleeps during the day and her husband works from 8 AM to 4 PM. I've watched both kids since they were infants. I love them as if they were my own, but when they're sick with a stomach bug, or just throwing up for whatever reason, I would prefer they stayed home away from me so that I can avoid getting what they have lol.

I've always felt bad about this, because they're little and I feel like at my grown age I should be okay with being around them if they've thrown up. Yet, I find myself internally freaking out about getting sick AND I get so paranoid I swear I make myself sick sometimes. Nancy knows this about me.

Sure enough, Nancy calls me and nonchalantly asks if Natasha can come over the next day with Dennis because the school told her Natasha couldn't return for 24 hours. Usually I would give in and say yes because I feel bad saying no, but recently my brother's have reminded me that Nancy only pays me 200 dollars every two weeks to watch Dennis four days a week, eight hours a day. Nancy has acknowledged that she'd have to pay way more at a daycare, so she appreciates what I, and my family do for them.

I love the kids, I really do, but despite having known their parents for so long it feels as though Nancy and her husband only really see me and my family as the help and almost expect us to always be available. Or maybe I'm just projecting my insecurities onto them about not feeling appreciated enough? Which I know is bad, but it's instances like this that have bothered me in the past. You wouldn't take the children to a daycare if they've thrown up right? Or if they're sick with something like covid (which they gave us like two years ago), or if they have a fever, but they've brought them over anyway. It feels mean, you know? Like I love the kids, but I don't want to get sick. Maybe I'm just a horrible, paranoid, awful person and I do think that sometimes. Ha ha, is this an instance in which it would be ok to set a boundary🤔😭

On top of that, I don't charge Nancy extra (nor does she offer to pay) when she asks me to watch the kids on the weekends for a few hours or when she's got time off of work and wants to bring them over. I know this is my fault, because I do not charge her, but again I feel bad asking for more money. My biggest fear for a long time was that she would stop bringing the kids over if I did ask for a little raise or asked her not to bring them over if they were sick, but was always reminded by my brothers that Nancy didn't want to pay for daycare. Still I felt too ashamed to ask for more babysitting money or for Nancy or her husband to keep the kids home sick, and again I feared she would find someone else to watch the children.

Anyway, I told Nancy no. I was very apologetic and reminded her that I get really paranoid when someone is sick throwing up. I told her I just didn't want to get sick because then I'd be out for one to two days. Which would mean I wouldn't be able to watch Dennis and she or her husband would have to miss out on a day of work. Nancy sounded let down, maybe annoyed? I'm not sure, I can't remember. I am kind of spiraling about it as I'm typing this out now. I feel really bad that I said no, especially because Nancy called me from her car so Natasha heard me say no. Luckily, Natasha was happy that she would get to go spend time with her mom at work. Nancy works in an office as the manager of a warehouse, so it's not like Natasha had to wait in some break room or alone somewhere.

Then tonight I get a message from Nancy saying Dennis threw up, and the panic set in all over again. I feel bad telling her to keep him, even though she eventually offered to keep him home after my many questions: what time did it happen; did he only puke once; does he have a fever; how is he feeling now? I'm sure she's annoyed that I might say "Yes, please keep him." Because that would mean she would either have to stay awake with him and not sleep before work tomorrow night, or that her husband would have to stay home. I think I'm going to tell her to keep him. I feel bad, but I guess not bad enough, huh? I'm trying to justify it to myself, I know, but that's why I'm here. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ladycibia · 5 months

Text

I wanted to write something here like two/three weeks ago but OF COURSE I stalled. :D Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your winter holidays. Of course I did NOTHING of what I had originally planned to do (like drawing or reading) as I spent those two weeks playing Pokémon (god the DLC was awful ;; and the special event was even worse ;;;;;;;) and eating and sleeping and watching Friends for the umpteenth time. It has gotten harder and harder for me to organise my free time lately and now that I'm back at work I'm so afraid of losing it completely (it has already happened). TwT I don't know, sometimes I feel like I have accomplished nothing...! That I should be more productive and more creative and more, you know more??? Ok Cibia, you just relax and stop typing now. See ya!

#cibia chats #I haven't drawn anything new yet #but I'm still working on some requests I collected on instagram last year #I'm proceeding very slowly though #TwT #mi manca disegnare stronzate

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 11 months

Text

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

youtube

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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