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#y'all are some damn good writers that's for sure
didsomeonesayventus · 8 months
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damn so how about the latest fe engage manga chapter (tw for talk of crucifixion under the cut not like. horrendously detailed at all but also hi most people may understandably not want to read about that w/ out a warning sjakghsdkgh)
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I HATE TO SAY IT BUT LIKE. kinda giggling thinking about this you're telling me back when I was writing Black Tourmaline (which, for the uninformed, has Alear kidnapped by Fell Cult Leftovers a few years post canon that I finished like back in mid June you should check it out maybe) I could've included crucifixion as a means of torture* and it would've been confirmed a canon aspect of fell worship a matter of months later
damn i could've crucified al- (a comically large frying pan slams against my head, knocking me out instantly)
* tho also I will concede that, while swift intervention + lack of nailing (which I don't think there is any here *squinting*) means you could have a chance of survival, typically the goal of crucifixion is uh. execution. remember kids crucifixion is an obscenely nasty ass way to go and frankly im not surprised it would be involved in Fell worship given the kind of attitudes Sombron takes up of course he'd probably be chill with if not promote something that- if you're lucky -would still take hours of agony to kill you, if not days.
fuckhead sombron fuck you
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year
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Grays II
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Frankie Morales x f!reader
{ Grays - Part I | Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’
Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.
Word count: 8.5k
Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘
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Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 
He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 
But he can’t do his fucking hair.
He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.
Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’
He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.
Hair half-dry - check.
Hair mousse applied - check.
Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 
Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -
Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.
He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.
‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 
He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.
And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.
Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -
By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.
This is as good as it’s gonna get.
He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.
‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’
‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’
Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’
The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’
Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 
The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.
‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.
Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’
Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’
Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’
Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’
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It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 
So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.
The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.
Nerves.
You’re nervous.
And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 
Or more precisely - who.
‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.
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From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.
Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’
Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’
‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’
‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 
When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.
Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’
In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’
Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’
You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’
Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’
‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’
‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’
‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 
‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’
‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.
Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’
Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’
‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’
He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’
‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.
He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’
At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 
After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’
A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’
Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’
‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.
Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’
Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 
‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’
You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 
‘Well, I don’t think so.’
‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.
‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’
Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’
You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’
He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’
‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.
‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’
Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.
‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.
The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 
‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.
‘Pope?’ you prompt.
‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.
‘Ben?’
‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’
Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’
Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’
Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’
To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’
‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.
‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 
Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’
‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 
You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’
‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.
You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’
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Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.
‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.
Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’
Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’
Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.
You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -
Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’
‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’
He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’
Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’
‘I don’t have a look on my face.’
He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'
‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’
‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.
Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’
You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 
‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’
Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’
‘40/60.’
‘Fuck off, Shiv.’
‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.
He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’
Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’
He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’
Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’
As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 
But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.
So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’
You blow him a kiss and grin wider.
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Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’
He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.
Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.
He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.
You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’
‘Shiv -’
You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’
‘Shiv -’
‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’
His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’
You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’
Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’
You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 
Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.
Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.
In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 
The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.
‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.
Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.
You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -
‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’
Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’
You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.
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You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.
‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’
‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’
‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’
He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’
Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.
Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’
‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’
You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 
‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’
Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’
‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’
He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’
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Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.
It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.
‘Hey.’
His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.
Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’
His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’
‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.
‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’
He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’
She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’
‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.
The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.
‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.
‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’
Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’
He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’
You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’
‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’
Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’
He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 
Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.
You smile to yourself and follow.
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You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.
It’s a lot of staring, even for you.
His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.
As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 
And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.
Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.
You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.
Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.
‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’
His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.
‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’
He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’
You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’
‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.
You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’
Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 
‘Because you wanted me to.’
You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’
He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’
It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.
It would be simpler. So you ask -
‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’
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Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 
‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’
‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’
You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’
The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.
You invited him inside. 
He said yes.
You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 
Francisco Morales, of all people.
Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.
But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.
Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.
‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.
‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’
‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’
You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.
Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’
His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’
‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’
‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’
You hum, unconvinced.
He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’
You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’
He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’
‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’
Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’
‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’
He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’
The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’
Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’
‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’
‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’
‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’
With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’
It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 
Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’
Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.
‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’
He leans in close. 
You stop breathing.
‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’
Closer still.
Your lungs ache.
‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’
He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’
‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.
And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.
It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.
‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.
‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’
He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.
Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’
‘Touch me, Francisco.’
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Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.
This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.
His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.
Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.
‘I want to suck your cock.’
His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 
‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’
You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’
You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.
With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’
He whimpers, and you know you have him.
His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 
There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.
Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 
‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.
Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 
His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 
‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’
He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.
‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’
‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.
There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.
‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’
You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’
Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.
Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 
Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 
Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.
‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’
‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.
Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.
‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’
You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.
Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.
‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.
You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’
The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’
‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’
He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’
Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’
He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’
‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’
‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.
‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’
Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’
As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.
When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’
Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.
His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.
For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’
You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.
Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’
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Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.
When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.
‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’
‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’
‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.
‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’
‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’
Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.
You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’
He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’
Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 
‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.
You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’
Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’
‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.
‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’
You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’
Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.
‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’
Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.
‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.
His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’
Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’
‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.
Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.
‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’
His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’
Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’
Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’
‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.
Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’
With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’
‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’
You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.
Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.
‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.
You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’
‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’
He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.
‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.
Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.
In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.
‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’
You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.
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Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️
Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍
I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️
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arcade-writing · 2 months
Text
Little Bunny
NSFW 🍋
Pairing: William Afton x AFAB! reader
Warning: age gap (reader is a grown adult), infidelity from William, pet names, minor breeding kink, Daddy kink, William is a shitty person, manipulation(?), rough sex, boss x employee, reader is unaware William has wife and kids (they're new to town and Will makes no effort to show he's married), reader is pretty oblivious, eating out, protected penetration, desk sex, minor pervert! William, scent kink, pussy slapping, Condom breaking, Praise kink, creampie, light degradation, he starts off 'nice' and then gets mean, alot of dirty talk, minor choking, overstimulation
Hey y'all... how's it been... I haven't posted a story since uh- April 17th, 2023 ....... yeah....hello again! I genuinely had the worst writers block & honestly horny block. Even when I started getting ideas and my thirsting back on, it was just never enough to write. I always hope when I start writing again it'll mean good news for my flow but, idk. (Also P.S I'm doing art commissions so if y'all wanna check that out you can right here , if you wanna, Just reblogging even if you're not interested would be really helpful, thank you!)
This is based off my own au so timeline may make no sense compared to the games and it is a rough idea - we're here for smut not lore. So please excuse the rough wages timeline wise. Just wanna say, I do not condone cheating or really, anything William does - but if you're crushing on a fictional character that kills kids you gotta accept he's gonna be scum. And sometimes you gotta embrace it a little.
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You were one of the newer hires since the business has been getting slower, one too many crimes attached to the Pizzeria's reputation. Missing kid cases connected to the business but no proof to say it had any real causality to them. Bodies never found, no camera footage, solid alibis. Nothing. But that didn’t deter people. In fact, it seemed to bring a morbid curiosity. Some wanted to feel a sense of scandal by just being in the building. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone. Hearing their family diner was the talk of the town for so many headlines was horrid luck in attracting outside locals.
Unbeknownst to you, you were Williams best employee and to him, his little bunny, he was obsessed with you. But he knew had an image as your boss and a family man to uphold; but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a slice of your attention and getting what he wanted. He was a selfish man; he tried of the perfect suburb he’s crafted for himself. Who was he to deny his interest in the new hire? Sure you were younger but that just seemed to go in his favour.
Abit thankful the town, even in their grief, were still held by the morbid curiosity and tendencies to still come. The small boom in business makes it feel like how it has to be. Even gave him a reason to finally bring their newest attraction; a new band to play now he and Henry had to practically remodel themselves to centre stage. Freddy’s little band was minor show they pulled when they couldn’t perform or either of the springlock animatronics were out of commission. But if William can still keep this damn business afloat; he can give the spotlight to his newer creations.
The kids were finally done demanding your attention; it was a slow day since it was still early morning and most kids were at school. A band of kids flagged you down and insisted on giving you a makeover. Reluctantly, you agreed and you had two little girls who put chunky plastic jewelry they won or had on you. The boys immediately tried to put face paint on you, putting messy yellow face paint around your eyes and a bit of your cheek. You were so thankful when their parents finally coaxed their children to let you get back to work.
Huffing as you headed towards the back of the diner to get to the staff bathrooms, the back was still semi in construction. Loose wires here and there, some unpainted walls. Your coworkers said before the press and the police investigation the diner was expanding it’s building but with everything that happened; it’s all been delayed. Meanwhile, William saw everything through the security cameras, watching the chunky computer flicker through footage. Spotting you head towards the back, where the cameras were still buggy, quickly heading towards his office door and opening it; just so conveniently opening the door when you walk past and spotting you. Wearing that signature grin under his scruffy beard, his smile stretching uncomfortably wide. Stretching to his eyes but his stare never matched.
“Ah- little bunny, hopping away from the job, huh?” He teased softly, knowing full well what you were doing.
At the sound of his voice, you jump as a noise of surprise slips out from you.
“No! Oh no-! I just wanted to get this face paint off!” You quickly say, not wanting my boss to think you were trying to slack off. Sheepishly gesturing to the thick yellow face paint around your eyes as your cheeks, feeling them heat up with embarrassment. You looked so stupid. He couldn't help but laugh, that was the reaction he liked – seeing you becoming sheepish around him. He can feel his smile grow wider.
“We can’t have you not look the part.” He tuts, using the still semi wet face paint on your cheek and smearing it on the tip of your nose, making a heart shape with it , his thumb now smudged with yellow as he liked the bunny-like nose he painted on you. It surprised you, eyes widening as you grew an awkward smile as you adjusted your uniform. Your trainers are scratching the back of your other leg, feeling the purple knee high socks roll down due to it. “I guess we can’t.”
“Let’s fix that then.” William patted the doorframe of his office before gesturing you to get inside, he wasn’t going to have you scurry off to the bathroom. “Come sit, little bunny, let’s sort this face paint, hm? I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this in public” He chuckled, moving out of your way so you could enter. “It’d be pretty embarrassing-“ William saw the way you squirmed at the idea of being considered an embarrassment to your own employer, deciding to give you some mercy as he finished his sentence. “-for you, wouldn’t it?”
You reluctantly agree, sighing as you walk into his office. Seeing the golden bunny plush on his shelf of memorabilia of his work. Trying to calm yourself down from your own prickling nerves, Fiddling with the wire bunny paper holder on his desk as you couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious attatched he had to to the long eared creature. His eyes followed your every move; the bunny plushie was something important to him, something sentimental; it was a plush of the golden rabbit he once dressed up as. A victory statement to himself for what he got away with; he liked having trinkets of his achievements. He closed his office door, contemplating locking it but didn’t want to get too eager. Making sure the window was covered with the mini curtain; the more privacy the better.
He guided you to sit In the plush yellow chair beyond you, grabbing some wet wipes from the drawer of his desk. “Such a soft little bunny, can I touch?” He asked playfully, crouching in front of you as he turned his attention to your face, using a wet wipe to remove the paint smear from your nose first. Your nose scrunched at the sudden feel of something wet. The smell was always too clean – some just smelt acidic. When you sat down, you didn’t expect to get somewhat pampered, you knew William could be pretty hands on as a person but you didn’t expect this. He cleaned up the rest of your face without much issue, his movements were precise and a bit rough when it comes to rubbing off the face paint on your cheeks. The thicker spots and cheap paint make it cling to your skin abit more. When satisfied with the wipe and picking up the next wipe to start on getting the yellow around your eyes off, careful to avoid poking your eyes.
Peering down as he saw you fiddling with the fabric of your shorts; one of the reasons he loved the summer time. He got to see your pretty legs on show. He had the desire to run his finger down the length of your shorts, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. But he held himself back, just as he did with the urge to pull you away from the seat right now and on top of him.
Once he pulled away you gently tried to dab away some of the dampness with your hand. Your cheeks stinging a bit from his roughness. Smoothing out your clothes to look more presentable as you hummed. “Thank you, Mr Afton.” You say, just reaching down to sort out your fallen down sock.
“It's not a problem at all, I have to make sure everyone follows uniform code.” William shrugged, throwing the crumbled wet wipes into the bucket looking pin by his desk. You were so oblivious to how obsessed he was with you. Letting him wipe your face clean and didn’t even protest. He often wondered what excuses you made up in your cute little head to not dwell on his behaviour.
His focus shifted as he watched you reach down, beating you to it as he grabbed your ankle and propped your foot on his thigh, wiggling your sock back up until it reached up just under your knee, giving you a pat with his signature grin. You knew this wasn’t very professional but he always seemed so doting; you just took it as perhaps it was just his instincts to take care of others. Unaware of the horrific things he’s done. His persona to others as this caring, sweet businessman – blaming him snapping at workings as stress and then gifts his employees with free snacks or drinks to make up for it.
“Thank you again.” You say. Nodding to your now lifted sock as you look down at him, still crouched before you.
“I already said it's no problem, being too polite can be annoying.” William stated, his words sickly sweet. As if just giving some friendly advice. Rubbing your knee as his thumb caressed it. He knew this might be inappropriate but he needed this and you were such a good little employee; you wouldn’t speak up, you were a good little bunny that does what he asks. Always trying to please the people around you and fit in as the new hire of the place.
He could still see the faint remnants of yellow face paint around your eyes that he decided to leave alone, it made your eyes pop, it made you look even more pretty. He gently grabbed back of your hand, holding the palm upright and used his index finger to draw his initials in the centre; marking you as his in a way you’d never know, his other palm was hovering over yours gently. He leaned in and made sure the blinds of the window were still shut; gently kissing your hand.
Which you, in turn, jumped at the kiss – the giggle you let out at the ticklish feel of his finger drawing on your palm cut off by the surprise you felt. Feeling the scruff of his beard on your skin as your lips part. “oh-!” Your brows scrunch, unsure how you felt about him doing that as you chewed on my bottom lip. One half enjoying the attention; enjoying to be doted on and his nice words but you knew that wasn’t what a boss should do. Glancing back over to the door; perhaps it was time you went back to work now you were all cleaned up-
His smile grew a little wider as your giggle was cut off. Seeing you glance at the door, he immediately grasped your hand with both of his, adjusting to rest on one knee as his aching legs screamed at him. "sorry, I just wanted to show my thanks, you’re such a sweet bun.” He lied so easily, quickly trying to dismiss your concerns. “That was abit forward, wasn’t it? I can be like that, how I was raised and all.” When he said how he was raised, a part of you felt a little guilty for being so quick to rush off. Assuming so poorly of his actions; not like an older man hasn’t kissed your knuckles goodbye before without ill intent.
“oh..okay.” you reluctantly accept. But you were still worried you may be enjoying his attention a little bit too much. Your stomach twisting, remembering you shouldn’t be accepting this but..it felt nice. My brows scrunched and twitched as your brain spun. It wasn’t like he wasn’t an attractive man, abit scruffy but he always seemed so cheerful and wanted to make others happy. Leaning into the plump back of the yellow office chair as my hands continued to fiddle with my work shorts. My brain screaming two different things at me it kinda just made me freeze. Go still until my brain could decide what it wanted.
William loved seeing the innocent expression in your face as he looked up at you. You seemed so helpless. You were his. The fact you were allowing this, excusing it told him all he needed to know. His mind was always the eager opportunist. How far could he really push this? His eyes falling to your ankle, the fact your foot still rests on his bent knee, you made no move to remove him or yourself. His smile turned sly as he bent closer to your foot, beginning to untie the knot of your trainer.
“It's alright, it’s okay.” He shushed softly, doing his best to come off soothing when his mind was running wild. One hand went to your thigh, pushing your hand from its continuous fidget as he smoothed his palm along until the fabric was bunched up as high as it could, exposing half of your thigh to him. His other hand taking advantage he had big hands to massage, squeeze and caress along your calf down to your ankle. “Those shoes still look new, bet they pinch.” His brow raised, giving the tip of your shoes a pinch.
“They do… sometimes.” You answer quietly, becoming a deer in the headlights at the feel of his palm against your thigh. Your heart rate immediately spiking as it thumped like a drum in your chest. Your cheeks growing warmer as you leaned completely against the chair. Hands going to the sides of the cushion, gripping into them. Unable to stop the soft sigh that escaped you at the feel of your aching calf being messaged.
He slipped your shoe off as it landed on the floor with a thud. “Poor little bun.” He tutted with mock sympathy, rubbing your ankle and the heel of your foot. Repeating the same for your other leg as he put your trainers to rest by the plush seat. Swapping hands to soothe your legs.
The scruffy man looked at your work shorts, an idea coming to mind. “Bet uniform can be such a pain at times, The summer heat must be doing you no good- they could cause chaffing, we should get you changed into a size that looks more comfortable.” He cooed a little more, trying to convince you by disguising it as concern. He knew you weren’t stupid; oblivious but not stupid. You couldn’t make decisions for yourself, He needed to do it for you.
Your breathing immediately stuttered. Your hands raised to your chest to fiddle with your own fingers. “I don’t know- I don’t think you-“ The words got caught in your throat as your eyes kept glancing at the door. Your mind was screaming to get away and not indulge but my body felt like putty when you felt your muscles relax from his caressing and firm hands. He had such lovely strong hands…you couldn’t deny you’ve thought about them before. He made machines, sure with Henry, but he obviously knew how to use them for intricate wiring and metal work. Your body was absolutely relishing this man's hands being on you.
“That’s right, you don’t think and that’s okay, let me do it for you.” He chuckled, his voice soothing but his words had some bite. A part of you made you whimper at his words; you didn’t mind the sound of that. Letting him think for you. His signature smile stretched high on his cheeks, moving your legs over his shoulders as he was still bent on one knee. Grabbing your work shorts, unbuttoning them and shuffling them down, abit awkward with how you were sitting but nothing that would deter him. You gasped as you didn’t know if you should lift your hips or just stay still. Sliding off your shorts as he hummed happily at the sight of your skin now properly exposed to his wandering eye, his tongue clicking when he saw you press your thighs together.
“Now, now, no hiding from me, I need to check if you have any chaffing.” He scolded, lying through his teeth with glee. Easily prying your thighs away from each other and forced your legs apart to ‘inspect’ your smooth skin. Grinning wider when he saw the little wet patch on your underwear, a shiver running through him. Oh you really like him.
You immediately tried to hide your face behind your hand. One hand covering your crotch to hide the shameful evidence of your arousal. Whimpering a little as your feet dug into his shoulder blades a little, your breathing getting heavier embarrassment. Trembling as you couldn’t bring myself to peek at what he was doing. Feeling as if you were in a dream; there was no way this was happening. But everything felt too real, too much it was making your nerves feel like they were being electrocuted.
“How many times will I repeat myself with you? No hiding.” His voice suddenly grew huskier, snapping at you. Firmly grasping your wrist as he shoved it away from your crotch. He wasn’t going to tolerate having to say the same thing no matter how cute you were. “Look at you, getting wet just for me…have I been a bad boss? Neglecting my sweet bunny? Does that spot need attention?”
He licked his teeth, his brows knitted from his previous annoyance but his voice dripping like honey as he looked down at you. Not wanting to wait for your response. Grinning wildly and staring directly at your hidden face. The fact he could get you this riled up and helpless in his presence excited him beyond belief. He could hear the sound of your little whimpers, sliding your underwear gently to the side to attend to that slick cunt of yours.
“there, there.” Giving your vulva a wet kiss as he shakily inhaled your scent, shuddering at finally getting to sniff it beyond finding left over clothes in your locker. Finding your panties in there was a jackpot, how angry and red his cock was after stroking it so mercilessly to your sweet scent.
Immediately, you let out a scandalised gasp. Your hands shot up and grasped the back of the plush yellow chair. Eyes wide as you shuddered, “Mr Afton-!” You squeal out as my feet kick and dig into his back as my toes curl beneath your socks.
He loved that response, that high-pitched little squeal you let out as your body became the epitome of vulnerability in his arms. He had to hold in a moan of his own, his heart feeling like it was going to explode in his chest and his cock straining in his pants.
“Shhh my little bunny, it’s okay, let me clean you up.” He shushed in a sing-song tone, using those hands to firmly press your legs still. Making sure you couldn’t squirm away. He huffed in your scent a little, giving more kisses along your wet folds, Each kiss leaving a wet smack. Letting his tongue trace along with the smallest licks, just teasing you.
You whine, back arching as your hands grasp and clutch at the back of the chair as your eyes squeezed shut tight. Your legs twitching and digging into his shoulder blades as you let out cracked whimper. “Mr Afton.. please..” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for – for him to stop and be professional? Act like it never happened. Or for him to keep going. You liked what he was doing – it’s been so long since someone’s given you attention like this, most guys only wanted their turns. Feeling the scratch of his beard on the inside of your thighs, prickling your sensitive skin.
William kept kissing and sucking gently, burying his nose into your heat as he peered up at you as he gripped your thigh and hip to keep you still. Only parting to coo more encouraging words at you. Wanting you to let go and be a good bunny. To be his. “You’re doing so, so good my little bunny.” Feeling no guilt to using his control over you as he licked a long strip up your pussy. “Let your boss take care of you, it’s what I’m here for.” He mocked sweetly.
It made your stomach flutter and twist; your eyes unable to peek, keeping them eyes shut tightly, as you sighed. Relaxing and sinking against the chair as you trembled. Your body is unable to deny how good his mouth felt. He let out a pleased hum that vibrated against your folds, his hand smoothed up your hip and pushed your button-up shirt up your stomach to keep it out of his way.
“There, that feels better, I think. Doesn’t it?” His tongue left a trail of wetness where he licked and sucked. Nuzzling his face into your pussy as he moved his head side to side, groaning as he inhaled deeply your sweet scent. He loved the sound of your whimpers, your soft little whimpers. How sensitive and responsive you are to his mouth. Groaning against your hot flesh as his other hand smoothed from your thigh, pulling your underwear more out of the way to make sure he could pamper your cunt with his kisses. His tongue prodded at your entrance as he kneeled fully, letting his nose nestle and bump against your clit.
“..yes..” you breathed out, one hand dropping from the gripping the back of the seat, your hand instinctively grasping his well kept hair. Brown and grey strands in your fist as your eyes fluttered open. Your hips bucked and squirmed with his continuous kisses and licks. Your lips falling open and unable to close them. His breath hitched at the sudden grasp of his hair, a low groan leaving his lips. “My little bunny wants more.” He hummed, his face moving to the side as he sat back a little to watch your face.
The way you bucked and squirmed, he couldn’t help but feel that satisfaction of knowing he was the one to make you do so. Seeing you grasping his hair as a sign to keep going. He knew he could hold you down and continue to pleasure you to his heart’s content. But he wanted to see how vulnerable you could become as he leaned back, his warm breath blowing over your sensitive spot. He wanted to see how far he could push you, to break you out of your shell as his eyes gazed up at you. Hastily burying his face back into your weeping cunt as he kissed up and began hungrily sucking on your clit. Feeling it throb against his tongue as it traced the letters of his name against it. Shaking his head as he did as he slurped noisily.
William pulled back for a small gulp of air, not wanting to part from your perfect cunt for too long. “How does that make you feel, sweetheart?” He teased, eyes squinting as his thumb caressed your tummy. “your boss making you feel so good, sucking on your clit like that?”
You mewl, tugging on his hair as your back arches from the constant attention to your sensitive bud. Just his breath fanning against it was making you shiver. “Yes- yes sir-“ but once those words left your mouth he tutted, shaking his head as he pulled back more. Frowning as he licked his now glossy lips. “No, no, bunny that’s not how you address the man eating out your pussy, now is it?"
“…n-no?” You stammer with confusion, already whining at the loss of his mouth. Tilting my head as I gave his hair another tug, wanting him to continue but all that did was make him slap your clit. The sting and suddenness made you jump with a yelp. A moan fluttering out your throat. Your legs squeezing at the side of his head, your knees bumping into his ear.
“No is correct.” William hummed, proud of your answer, caressing where he slapped as he raised a brow. “You should call me daddy, that sounds nicer, right? You can call me that, can’t you?” He coos, tilting his head as his nose crinkled as his smirk grew. Expectant eyes watching your every move, seeing the embarrassment grow on your face. Your lips opening and closing as you just let out a shaky breath. Slowly nodding but that earns you another slap. You let out a high pitched whine at your poor bud getting smacked.
“Use your words.” He ordered, his voice only growing firmer, this time not giving any soothing caress to the small sting. “yes…daddy” the word falls off your tongue, making your stomach twist and flutter. It felt strange but it didn’t feel wrong. Despite your hesitance he rewards it by bending back down, lavishing your sex with kisses as muffled praises left his lips.
Williams tongue was long And thick but grew a bit more slender to the tip of it. It dragged and lapped at your wetness as he groaned. His hand on your thigh, adjusting your leg on his shoulder as he kept his face pinned to your heat. The hand holding up your shirt tugging it up after unbuttoning a few of the bottom ones. Pulling the edge of the shirt towards your mouth and you bit down. Holding the shirt with your teeth as you slightly drooled against the fabric. With his hands free, his thumbs now on either side of your fluttering hole to keep you open. Grunting as he prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it as he sucks and slurps hungrily at your arousal. You gasp, shaking as your hands tug on his hair and try to pry his ravenous tongue from your sloppy cunt. It was too much- groaning deep into the fabric between your teeth as your eyes fluttered.
William plunged a finger inside you alongside his tongue. Only pulling back to speak. “don’t fucking try to stop me. You can handle it.” He immediately went back to work as your head flew back. Your legs are tightening and kicking against his shoulder blades. “I’m gonna-“ you whine, breathing as shaky as the rest of you as you squirmed. Feeling yourself dangle right at that edge as his finger hastily pumped in and out of you. Getting closer and closer – feeling so good- just as you reached right on that edge he suddenly pulled away, liicking his lips. Making you cry out in protest, eyes wide.
“Daddy- no- I was almost there!” You pleaded. Too needy to be embarrassed by the title for him as you gave another kick to his shoulder blade with the heel of your foot. He just tutted and shook his head. "No, you're only gonna cum around my cock and only then.”
Your eyes widen. Breath hitching as words caught in your throat making the shirt drop from your mouth. Unable to even try to speak as he suddenly pulled himself from in between your legs and grasped your hips, yanking you up. Bouncing you in his arms with a strained grunt as he carried you over to his desk. Grabbing what files he could and shoved it to the side – letting anything else be swiped off without care. Placing you down on the edge of the desk with a small thud. You hissed slightly at the small smack of your rear against the old hardwood. He unbuttoned your shirt at your chest, opening it up as he grinned at the sight of your chest.
“Daddy’s waited so long to play with these.” He breathed out, moving your shirt more out of the way to keep your chest exposed. Squeezing and groping at it, pressing against the perk of your nipple. Caressing it with the pad of his thumb as he hummed.
Your breathing hitches, puffing your chest more into his big hand, feeling dizzy from the way it felt like he was engulfing you. His fingers long but still thick, palm rough with work and age. You grasped his wrist as he kneaded at your chest as you glanced down and saw a prominent tent in the front of his pants. A small wet spot already formed from his own excitement.
Noticing where you were looking he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants, tugging them down to his ankles along with his boxers. Letting his cock spring free as it smacked against his yellow shirt, the sticky tip just smearing pre on it as it drooled. Twitching as your eyes were glued to it. He’s longer than any of the guys you’ve tried before, thicker too but not too much. “O-oh shit…..” You breath out with wide eyes, reaching out your hand to grasp it but he stops you. “Ah ah- no Bunny, you’ll make me cum if you do that, let me feel you cum around me first.”
You nod, and yelp at another smack to your poor throbbing clit. Covering your mouth to muffle your surprise as you panted. Removing your hand to respond as he raised an expecting brow. “Yes daddy-“ with a satisfied hum he strokes your tummy as he pushes your back more against the desk. Ready to align himself with your hole, his eyes watching the way it clenches at nothing in anticipation. Sticky with your arousal and his spit. Eager to feel exactly how good you’ll make him feel-
“Wait-! Do you have a condom?” You ask with a flurry of sense, so caught up in the whirlpool that was William and your need you almost forgot. Sure you’re already on birth control but you always preferred to be safe.
At the question, William huffed quietly. Forcing his uncomfortably wide smile back as his hand twitched. A flair of annoyance rising at your request but he wasn’t looking for any risk to this. As tempting as knocking you up sounded, he couldn’t handle another snot faced kid. Three was more than enough. Besides, he can’t let anyone find out about this. So with a nod, he walks around the desk and goes through the top draw where he spots a purple condom. You immediately felt relief upon seeing the packet; confused why your boss has it but thankful nonetheless.
Once rolled on he resumed his position between your legs as he stared down at you. Licking his teeth as his brow twitches, his smile still perked on his lips. “Now you’re gonna take daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”
“Yes daddy, fuck me!”
“Dirty bunny.” He chuckles with surprise. William lines his cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your clit. Tapping the head of his cock against it before dragging it down your folds. He grinned as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his dick and curled your fingers around it. “You want it? Then guide it in, bunny, be good for me.” You did just that, aligning it perfectly, your hips flexing as your legs adjusted at his hips and slid down on the head of his cock.
Immediately, Your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the stretch. “Oh-! You’re so fucking tight.” He thrusts a couple of times, fighting the resistance. He desperately held back the urge to cum, groaning as he slid in and out. Sawing himself into you as he worked you open with his cock. You already felt so much better than his wife. You didn’t bitch at him or refuse to let him eat you out. You didn't say no to him. And you’re so tight- squeezing his dick like you owned it. And William wasn’t a man to be owned but he could definitely get use to your pussy hugging him whenever he needed you.
His cock buried deep Inside of you as he eased in, nestling right against that certain spot. Making you let out a strained moan, eyes rolling back. “Easy, Bun, easy-“ he hushes, his stubble tickling your ear as he hunches over you. His teeth tugging on the shell of your ear as he let out a husky chuckle.
William paused in his thrusts, giving you a moment to fully adjust. Wanting you to become more needy as you squirmed. Rolling your hips as you tried to grind against him. Seeing your pathetic state, he gave you a second before he thrusts into you once again, His grip on your hips were tight. The first squeal of your wetness from his movements made him let out a rumbling groan from his throat. Pumping into you as he nodded his head. The resistance of your tightening walls growing less and less as his fingers dragged and kneaded into your hips. “Take it-take it! Fucking take it!” Skin slapping against skin, his grip on your hips as your body dug into the desk underneath you, you kept your hand to your mouth to muffle you.
Williams thrusts were getting faster now, his thighs smacking into yours as yours, your legs squeezing his hips which only pushed him closer, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the desk creaking. Everything building together with his rugged breaths, your muffled whines. His eyes pinned you down as one hand snaked up your body to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock kissed your g-spot as he arched his back.
It all made your stomach clench, that tightening knot in your gut approaching quicker, clamping down on his cock with every stroke. “Gonna cum on my cock, bunny? Making you feel good?” he taunted, tilting his head as you desperately nodded your head. Trying to respond back to him as your voice cracked and your moans overcame any words you attempted to speak. “Cum on it, squeeze it tight, come on.”
“I’m gonna- ohh- fuck-!” you squeal, your eyes rolling as your back arched, panting as your hand tightened over your quivering lips. You could see his hair messy and no longer neatly slicked back, the part you tugged on and the sweat on his forehead ruining his hair gel made the tuffs sweep over his forehead. His brows tightly knit in concentration. “cum on my cock, little bun, go on.” He grunted, keeping up pace as his hand tightened around your neck. Just beginning to steal the air from you as your fluttering eyes remained rolled. Bucking your hips furiously as your orgasm crashed over you. Whimpering as came, and you came hard. Practically choking his dick as you did. Stars littering your voice as you whine, tugging on his wrist to let go of your neck.
With a groan he let go of your neck but his fingers twitched. Itching to do it again. He slammed his hand right by the side of your head as he kept a tight grip on your hip. His thrusts getting shaky and erratic.“Fuck, bunny I’m about to cum-“ he could feel the warm of your heat. Feeling the friction from the condom against his sensitive tip. Feeling it roll and shift, chewing on his bottom lip as you whimpered and whined.
“That’s it, Bunny, You gonna let Daddy breed you? Fuck you full of my cum, I bet you want that-“ he was cut off by you clenching around him. Groaning as he shuddered. “Ooh…Well your body definitely likes the idea.” He gleefully chuckled. Shaking his head as he kept fucking you. Chasing that high of his impending release.
You moaned louder, your hand slightly uncovered from your mouth to try and let you breathe and William sneered. Thrusting into your tight cunt brutally. “Shut up! Are that much of a slut you want the whole building to hear?” he speaks through gritted teeth, you immediately let out a whine, shaking your head. Your words are shaky as you quickly deny being a slut but he just licked his teeth. Tilting his head.
“Oh really? You're not? Why do you think you’re in this position then, huh?” He just grunts as he continues thrusting. “you’re a slutty bunny, just letting your boss undress you- letting him eat your pussy-” William groans, his sentences getting chopped as he panted. Bullying his cock into you over and over. “Letting him fuck you, this what you wanted, you let this happen – you���re a slut.” His words made you whimper, the truth stung but your mind was so foggy, lost in the haze of your pleasure, you could barely think. Just trapped being a squirming mess as he fucks you.
“Don’t whine, don’t act like it’s not true.” William scolded, sliding his hand just on your lower stomach, pressing down where his cock is inside you. “That’s my cock deep inside you, gonna deny that too?”
You shake your head. “No daddy-“ your response is immediately reward with him patting your hot cheek abit roughly as he nodded. “That’s right, can’t deny it – the sound of your wet pussy squelching and wetting my cock is more than enough evidence, isn’t it?"
“Yes daddy.” Your words came out slurred, nodding as your lips kept parting as you drooled. Eyes fluttering as you squirm and arch as your second orgasm is forced out of you as you squeal. Your feet digging right into his ass as overstimulation shocked you. Hiccupping as your poor pussy fluttered around him, each stroke of his cock against your walls made your veins spark.
That was all he needed, cursing under his sharp breath as he squirted thick ropes. Just registering how he painted your inner walls. His glues just catching the sight of his cum sticking to him and smearing on the lips of your pussy. A spark of satisfaction grew in him but also annoyance. Making sure to fuck his cum more into you as he tore his eyes away, you were too blissed out to even realize. Overstimulation already making your brain a mess. Shaking as you felt warmth flood up to your stomach.
He slowly eased out, looking down once again. “Oops-“ he says almost lazily, too riddled with euphoric high to pretend he cared. Looking at the torn condom, ripped and stretched at the thick head of his dick. His cum stitching to your cunt with a thick string. Your juices absolutely soaked him, making the rubber shine under the lights of his office. Panting as he pushes back his messy hair. “Well, this is one of those things you risk when you’re a slut, isn’t it? Accidents happen.” He tuts, having enough sense to fight off the smirk wanting to raise on his lips.
You see the broken condom and your stomach twists. For a moment you believe your heart stops as you watch him, tug off the broken condom as he throws it into the bin. Letting out a pleased hum as he grasps his dick, smearing his cum and your juices on your thigh to clean himself up. Raising his hand to suck on his finger and groans; enjoying the taste of you once again. Tugging his pants back up, he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out some crumbled cash. “Here, bunny, I should take responsibility.”
With a chuckle William puts the cash in your trembling hand, leaning down to your cheek to give it a few doting kisses. Stroking your hip as he did. You whined when he pulled away, you were completely and utterly fucked. Your hand clenching around the dollar notes as you stare up at him. Your brain was utterly turned into putty. He grabbed your underwear from the floor, wiping his cum from your sloppy cunt but he didn’t return them. Putting your underwear inside his desk drawer, with a smile.
“Let’s get you presentable, I’ll send you home early, ain’t that a win?” He teased, giving your cheek another kiss before he grabs your clothes from the floor. Helping you redress and steadied you back on your feet.
“I’m hoping this won’t be our last time, bunny, you were perfect.” He reassures, squeezing your hands as he nuzzles his nose against yours. You blinked as you nodded, heart racing as you leaned against him. On your tiptoes to reach his height with a small smile. “Really?” You ask, voice shaky and quite. William nodding as he strokes your knuckles, giving your forehead a kiss.
“Go on, Bun, hop along!” He smacks your ass as he guides you out of his office. You stumbled out and tried to make yourself more presentable as you smoothed out your uniform and fixed a few buttons. You could hear your blood rushing through your ears as you went out of the pizzeria in a daze. Your brain is unable to stop the spinning wheel of his heavy breaths. His thrusts that left you still aching. Clutching the dollars tighter as you knew where you’d be going before heading home.
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low-budget-korra · 1 month
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Comments on Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender
*spoiler alert*
First of all I'm gonna start by saying it is one of the best adaptations I've seen so far. And that's the key word, adaptation. I've seen a lot of fans and others complain about some things that honestly, doesn't make sense because some things only work in a cartoon(just as much as some things only work in a book or a video game)
And before I start to talk about some topics that I judge important, I also wanna say that the production is fantastic, from the costumes to the CGI. It all looks amazing. (A part from Yue's wig)
1. The Script
It's not easy to pick 20+ episodes and make it fit in only 8 but damn they did a hell of a good job, especially when judging what was important to show and what they could let it go. Some fans commented that since there's no fillers, the Gaang and others miss some development but I think that for the universe of the live action what we got here it worked.
I can express how much I like to see Ozai and Azula's relationship and how it is now clear that he uses the siblings against each other, manipulating them to get what he wants. But I will admit I miss the fear Azula had, since it's implied in the show and some extras that she does fear Ozai, and fears becoming like Zuko.
I hope the 41. Is just fine after the battle in the north. See all of them bowing to Zuko after discovering that Zuko was the one that saved their asses and was heavily punished by that...it was beautiful. I loved the writers did that, give names and faces to Zuko's crew and a beautiful yet sad arc when Ozai banished his son and the men who he saved.
I also loved that they put weight into things that was treated as a joke, like Katara talking about her mother. She was a little kid who saw her mom get murdered in front of her and the live action made sure to let us know that it is not okay to make jokes about something so traumatic. All of the deaths here have tons of weight in it, it's not some random person, is someone we met, someone we liked, someone who helped. The costs of the war, something the cartoon manages to show us but know in live action, with real people, the massage gets stronger.
And they didn't forget Iroh's past like the fandom does, which is great. That actor, the earthbending soldier really let it all out, that's how you use the few screentime you have.
Sokka's isn't sexist and y'all were making a storm outta a cup of water, is not like Sokka sexist didn't go away after like the 4 or 5 episode in the original show. I think the live action was able to bring more depth to him in comparison to the first season of the cartoon. We see how he feels about his father's, the absence of him and his duty as warrior who kinda doesn't want to be a warrior.
I need a Gyatso in my life, I didn't know I needed to see more of him until the live action gave us more of him. Kyoshi was the Thor coming to Wakanda from this season, WHY THE FUCK BRYKE DONT WANNA GIVE US A KYOSHI SERIES? She is absolutely a jewel of a character. Roku and Kuruk, damn poor Kuruk man, so much pain in his words but again that's what it means to be the Avatar, it's not fun and games. Zhao saying to Aang what Korra villains said to Korra😭 that the world doesn't need the Avatar anymore, it hurt.
Guys I'm gonna say it, there's no way in hell for anyone to ship Kataang here. I'm saying this because some shippers complain that the secret tunnel part was different but c'mon, look at Kiawentiio and look at Gordon, it would be so s awkward and weird and just wrong. I know they don't have a big age difference, is only like 3 years but when they filmed Gordon looked so much younger than her, maybe in the next seasons the difference won't be that big.
The pace is good, once you start you don't wanna stop.
2. The Acting
Everyone is really good at capturing the essence of it's characters and somewhat making them their own. The highlights for me were Dallas and Ian, Its like they came straight from the show. Ken Leung's Zhao was also amazing as he was way more threatening here than he was in the show.
Kiawentiio was the Katara we were looking for, she is kind yet strong, brave and caring. And Gordon was Aang, sure, he has to learn a few things since he slipped a few times in his acting but nothing that could ruin the experience, that kid is good and just needs some experience.
Elizabeth Yu was Azula. It was different but yet the same character, is like learning something new of her and I like how cleared she show emotions with her eyes. Maria Zhang had great chemistry with Ian and I can't wait to see more of Suki. Arden Cho and Yvonne Chapman as June and Avatar Kyoshi look like they came out straight from the cartoon. Daniel Dae Kim...man is Ozai, so cold, so sharp, so scary, already way better than the cartoon version. I wanna see more of Paul Sun-Hyung Lee as Iroh since the character he really starts to shine in book 2.
3. The live action doesn't have the spirit of the OG?
Yes, it does have. The thing is now that we are seeing real people, things get dark one way or another but I don't think it ruined the spirit of the show. Aang is still a kid, Sokka still making sarcastic jokes, Zuko still annoying as hell, Katara still hopeful and strong... There's everything there really.
The thing is stuff like genocide, murder, war, death and suffering are, for some people, better to watch as pixels in a cartoon than real people.
I think it's a great adaptation and I would recommend it to every fan.
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mauesartetc · 9 months
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Thoughts on Helluva Boss 205 ("Unhappy Campers")
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Wow, this... This one may actually be worse than Murder Family. That's impressive.
Is anyone else noticing a pattern of Helluva Boss episodes going absolutely nowhere? Each one ends without affecting the larger plot in any meaningful way. Season 1's structure was fairly episodic as well, but at least back then there was some sense of progression.
I usually include separate lists of pros and cons in these critiques, but in this case, I have so few compliments to give this thing it's not worth it. I tried my best to find more to like about this episode, but it gave me bupkis to work with. So I'll just present all my notes in chronological order.
Let's get this over with.
-Looks like the rehab facility where Barb used to live is located in Sloth (on account of the floating islands and all the pink in the environment), just like the hospital in this season's previous episode. We've never seen care centers in any other ring, so... Does Hell society's opinion of sick people dictate that they're just lazy? Some clarification on that might be nice.
-"She's got a job now. A life. Don't fuck it up by findin' her." Holy shit, the nurse is the most mature, sympathetic character in this entire episode. Tasing Blitzo in the butthole earns her bonus points in my book. Nurse Pussyface, you are way too good for this show.
-Why is Blitzo even trying to visit his sister if he's been kicked out of the facility several times and knows she hates him? What's the impetus? "Look, I know you hate my guts, but Dad's dead, and he named you in the will." Or maybe he had an experience that reminded him of her and figured he'd drop by to see how she was? Y'know, something.
-By the way, Helluva's animation is usually a highlight, but here there's not much to say about it. It wasn't especially memorable or ambitious; just kinda... passable. Even the climactic fight scene (which I'll get to later) didn't have much to write home about.
-How the hell didn't the client notice the holes in his boat before he rowed it out into deep water? Because I'm pretty sure it would leak when it was still in the shallow end of the lake, unless this is a unique real-life boating phenomenon I'm not aware of. Also, you'd think this guy was a bit too gung-ho to get out on the lake for someone who can't swim. Did someone have a gun to your head, dude?
Fun fact: Did y'all know I was on staff at a summer camp once? We had a pond, canoes, and a boathouse just like the camp in this episode. One thing we had that this camp apparently doesn't, however, is this important rule: No one gets in a canoe without a life jacket. EVER. But, well... We see later that the adults at this camp don't care much about safety, so I guess that's fair enough. (Though I'm curious how they manage to stay open, or what the client's loved ones have to say about his mysterious disappearance.)
-What did the client do to get sent to Hell after he died? Mrs. Mayberry murdered someone, so that's why she's here, but this kid seems pretty chill-? (And don't even try to explain this on Twitter, writers. If it's not in the story itself, it ain't canon.) I also can't help but notice that his design reflects the way he died, but every other sinner's appearance is just random. Consistency? Who needs it!
-Some unintentional hilarity for ya: Here's Millie's face after the client recounted his death.
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And she holds this pose for the remainder of the scene. Was there NO direction on how to animate Millie here?! This is a grim situation and she's smiling?! I get that she's a demon, but damn that is cold. It's never been clearer that half her role in this story is just smiling and looking cute, to the point the animators don't know what else to do with her.
-Richard Horvitz's valley girl voice was kinda funny. I dug it. Not sure why Moxxie and Millie had to dress in drag for anything other than cheap laughs, though.
-I know Millie's hurtin' for more development, but this story's conflict would have made SO much more sense from a character standpoint if Moxxie were getting all the praise from the campers. Think about it: He's the one Blitzo always shits on and doesn't believe in. He's the one whose father doesn't love him. He's the one who never gets positive attention from anyone except his wife. Suddenly the conflict is much more compelling: Now that he has approval from these humans, maybe he doesn't need it from Blitzo anymore (not sure why he needed his approval in the first place, but whatever). Maybe he'd realize what he's been missing, and how shitty Blitzo's treatment has been in comparison. Could this be the breaking point that finally gets him to muster some self-respect and quit IMP? We'll never know, because the episode has miscalculated where the most interesting dilemma actually lies.
As far as we can tell, Millie's had zero reason to doubt herself, and we never see her being mistreated like Moxxie has.
Take these lines of dialogue: "And for once I feel like... Like I'm important! Like I'm somebody to be proud of!"
Wouldn't they fit so much better if they came out of Moxxie's mouth?
-I kinda liked how the lyrics of Millie's song were humble while Moxxie's lyrics were egotistical, showing that being down to earth will win you friends while being self-centered will turn people off. But is that really the kind of message we need in an adult show? It's a useful lesson for children, but after you hit the age of this series' target demographic, most people will have the social skills to know better than to pull what Moxxie did at the campfire.
-Speaking of Moxxie being super immature, why does he weep when a bunch of preteens ignores him? They're...They're kids, Mox. They aren't your peers. Literally who cares. This behavior makes no sense outside of (once again) cheap humor. I could understand being bummed out that you're not good with kids if you wanted to have your own someday, but even that doesn't warrant actual tears. And this makes him look like a massive hypocrite later on when he asks Millie why it matters what "these yokels" feel about her. I mean... You seemed to care a lot about how they saw you, Moxxie...
-Moxxie's excuse for why it's so hard for him to get information on the case is that everyone's too busy "swooning over" Millie. Here's a thought: Why doesn't Millie get the info? She's the one everyone likes, so it should be a snap, right? Well, once again, the characters get railroaded because the writers can't entertain any other plot ideas. And of course Moxxie ends up getting blamed for everything as if he's the only one who fucked up here.
-Why the hell would a summer camp show so much favoritism toward a single camper that they set up a friggin' concert for this camper and this camper only? Yeah yeah, "viral sensation" and everything, but 1) The news crew can wait another day or so for camp to end in order to conduct an interview (y'know, something that wouldn't require a huge-ass stage and pyrotechnics that'd cost the camp boatloads of money), and 2) The camp staff thinks Millie is a child. How fucking irresponsible can you get to lavish this much attention on a kid? Think it'll go to her head or something? Psssh nah. Also, you're telling me none of the other campers are the tiniest bit jealous? How do you think they feel, seeing this one kid get treated like a god while they're left in the dust?
Okay, plot-wise, the writers decided they wanted Millie to sing a song so she's occupied during the final showdown with the killer. Easy solution: Camp talent show. That way, the adults treat all the campers equally, and Millie gets her (more believable) moment in the spotlight.
-Oh hey, we finally see Asmodean crystals in action. And of course the first one we see is a butt plug.
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SuCh a MAturE shOw, GUys! (Sorry, I'm still laughing my head off at that.)
So, a bit of backstory for those who aren't familiar: We first learned of Asmodean crystals in the Season 2 premiere, when Stolas opened the grimoire to reveal Norse runes on its pages. Someone on the internet was kind enough to translate:
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Now here's the deal: Blitzo tells the lust demon to open the portal with his crystal (even threatening him at gunpoint), leading me to believe only non-imps could use Asmodean crystals and that's why he needed the grimoire to get to the human world.
But guess what happens later:
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Blitzo's sister Barb, another imp, uses a crystal on her bracelet to open a portal back to Hell. So what exactly was the point of stealing the grimoire from Stolas??
BLITZO. YOU. DENSE. MOTHERFUCKER.
Okay, maybe I'll be generous and acknowledge that there might be another explanation, like Blitzo getting banned from using Asmodean crystals because he's misused them in the past. (Maybe there's a spell that causes the crystals to burn him every time he tries to hold one. Something of that nature.) But at this point I don't trust these writers to fill in their plot holes. Or plot portals, as the case may be.
-The portals themselves are kinda pretty, though. I can appreciate that they look different from the portals created by the grimoire.
-Moxxie calls Blitzo "sir" in this episode despite Blitzo telling him to use his first name in Truth Seekers. Moxxie then uses it in "Ozzie's" (if I remember correctly), but now he's back to "sir" for unexplained reasons-? Coupled with how their relationship has reverted back to square one with Blitzo learning nothing (as well as no one bringing up the agents or what they can do to stop them leaking the proof that demons exist), do the writers just want us to forget that episode or what?
-Blitzo chastises Moxxie for dragging the case out for a week, but it took him a week to track down Barb. This hypocrisy is never addressed.
-At the boathouse, Blitzo tells Moxxie he's looking for his sister, then kicks down the door, revealing Barb inside. Moxxie asks, "Do you know her?" "Do I know her? That's my sister, fuckface!" That's... oddly repetitive, writers. I get that Moxxie wouldn't immediately make the connection since Barb's disguised as a human, but there's a more graceful way to handle that in the dialogue. Something like, "Is this her?" "Oh, now you're on the ball!"
-In an earlier post I expressed concern that these writers wouldn't handle Barb's addiction well, and I'm somewhat relieved they didn't go into it. But I also predicted she'd amount to a genderbent Blitzo instead of having her own personality, and... well...
Overindulges in addictive substances? Check. Runs a business that requires travel to the human world? Check. Pottymouth? Check. Uses sexuality as leverage? Check.
It would've been nice to at least get a hint about what Blitzo did to make her hate him so much (and perhaps confronting that would make him rethink how he treats Moxxie-?), but I guess we'll have to find out when she comes back in seven episodes or so. Yaaaaay.
-Barb says she picked this particular human as her supplier because teenagers are easy to manipulate, but she really had no way to accomplish that other than flashing her panties at him? Assuming Barb and Blitzo are the same age, she's in her 30s, and... it's just a tad creepy and uncalled for, even if this kid's legal. That's a pretty big age (and power) gap regardless. This is one of those times when it looks a lot more predatory when you switch the genders, but, importantly, women can be predators too. Bad optics, y'all.
-The climactic fight scenes in prior episodes were snappy and exciting, but this one's pacing felt really sluggish. I get that the song in the background had a slower tempo than we're used to in these action scenes, but would it have been so hard to double-time the animation? Also, previous fight scenes were notable for their creative choreography, but Barb wrapped her tail around Moxxie twice in a row. Having trouble coming up with new fight moves, guys? Like damn, she's an acrobat. She could do so much more.
-In another edition of "characters being idiots because plot", Moxxie and Millie make out in front of everyone who thinks they're related. They couldn't have run off to somewhere more private?? Apparently no; this needed to happen so Millie's internet fame would be dashed... or, here's another option: Show how the internet popularity cycle is so damn short that everyone's already moved on to the next sensation. You could have made that funny if you actually put in some effort. Like... The faux-incest was just so unnecessary.
-Much like Murder Family, another unfunny ending where Moxxie's dreams are crushed. Blitzo gets his hopes up only to call him a "fuckin' disgrace". But remember, guys: He'S HArd oN hiM BEcauSE hE CAreS! (Fuck it, I think I'll just edit a supercut of every time Blitzo has berated Moxxie, pre- and post-Truth Seekers.)
Oh and look, Millie's glaring at Blitzo, which is totally the same as opening her mouth to tell him off like he deserves, right?
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She'll take on a whole gang of mobsters out of love for Moxxie, but standing up to Blitzo? Whoa, that's a step too far. Y'know, because he's the writers' favorite and he shouldn't have to experience any complications from his behavior. Same old story as it's been for a season and a half.
This ending would've been a million times better if it left off on a cliffhanger. Maybe this could have been Moxxie's final breaking point. After Blitzo calls him a disgrace, Moxxie could take a deep breath and...
MOXXIE: (flatly) I quit.
Then he walks out of the room. Everyone looks after him, stunned. When he closes the door, the screen cuts to black and the credits roll.
Oh shit, what's going to happen next? How will Blitzo deal with this? How will it affect Moxxie and Millie's home life? What kind of new job will Moxxie find to keep food on the table? Will he ever come back to IMP, or will Blitzo find a replacement? I know these writers aren't too interested in serialization or any sense of continuity outside of the stupid romance subplot (or hell, inside it), but good god, it would give viewers some exciting possibilities to look forward to.
This episode had so much potential and followed through on none of it. "Unhappy Campers" turned out to be a more fitting title than expected, as that's exactly what I was while watching this.
(Also this show needs a continuity coordinator like yesterday.)
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thegreatwicked · 2 months
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FicRecs
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Enjoy some of my favorite stories I've come across on Tumblr! Seriously, I LOVE these stories and I reread them A LOT!
Please note: Virtually ALL OF THESE STORIES ARE SMUT. That means 18+ content, and you are responsible for managing your internet consumption. Minors DNI.
FicRecs
DC Comics
Dance for Daddy by @matth1w LAWD. I love me some Roman Sionis fics and this one DELIVERS. Sexy, kinky, smutty I give it a solid Chefs Kiss.
Joy Ride and Let Me Make You Feel Good, The Intern by @littleredwing89 More delicious Roman Sionis one shots Joy ride is about teasing Roman as he drives and Let Me Make You Feel Good is about a sweet smutty cure for a hangover. And the Intern, a fuck buddies to lovers story, god yum. Reader inserts. Drool. Go forth read and enjoy.
Bait the Beast by @more-cardigan-than-womanLord help me, I found a new little gem. You cause a bit of a ruckus with Coblepot and Roman thinks you need a lesson.
Yours by @tarrenterror25set in the AO! Verse Roman is having some trouble during the holidays overcoming everything the Joker did to him, good thing he has you. Because he does. You're his now. Melt. Sorry about the mess.
Star Wars
Water and Rock by @split-spectrum I honestly cannot say enough good things about this story It follows Obi-wan/Fem Reader in the classic Master/Padawan troupe and it. is. SPICY. Up to twelve chapters which I have read MULTIPLE TIMES and it hits so hard. Go read this story it is sexy as HELL and gives you the feels. She's so damn good at writing Obi-Wan it hurts, but like in a kinky good way.
The Gift by @ladyinwriting18 I have already spoke at length about the fabulousness that is Lady in Writing and her amazing content. This one is a favorite! Its a Maul/Reader Insert and it is smutty sxy and kinky. Seriously if Maul is your fictional crush (Hi me too!), go read this.
The Three Princes Part One: The Oldest Profession by @thenightmarketofdathomir This writer is freaking legendary. I do not know the collection of words in my own language to describe the eloquence and sophistication this writer possesses. Just go. Go read this and you let me know if you're ever the same again. This gem stars our boy Feral and is a you/reader insert. Oh damn, this story makes me want things...
Birthday Wish, Romancing the Pages, The Write Seduction, To Create Life, by @jedianjakenobi Y'all, this author holds a special place in my writer's heart. She's a published author on Amazon and she's truly amazing. Her works are all Obi-Wan-centered and reader inserts. Birthday Wish is a birthday crush from your sexy neighbor, Romancing the Pages is a fake relationship/summer romance with a reclusive shy librarian (Ben) and a best-selling author, The Write Seduction is a professor Kenobi/writing student story and it is SPICY. And my favorite To Create Life is a Jedi Council green lights a baby-making program and who else is the reader paired with? Their good friend Padawan Kenobi. My darlings, my friends, if you like Obi-Wan smut then you are doing yourselves a disservice by NOT reading these.
Empty Me Out by @221bshrlocked reader insert/DOM Obi-Wan I'm tellin y'all this story NEARLY killed me. I've lost track of how many times I've readit. You're an entertainer and Master Kenobi needs information from you, so you give him what he wants and then he gives you what you want. Where it Wasn't massage therapy reader insert/Obi-Wan, do I need to say more? Pretty sure I melted into the floor with this one.
His Loving Satine by @waterlily707 I love reader insterT and OCs but these two Obi-Wan and Satine are a joy to read. Temporary paralyzed Obi-Wan at the "mercy" of a slightly dom Satine. Juicy, gorgeous, little bit of fluff. Love it.
Room 24 by @murdockussy Little angsty Obi-Wan/reader insert enemies to lovers in an undercover assignment-type situation. Spicy, dom Obi-Wan give. Me. More.
Tea with Lemon, Tea with Honey by @wickedscribbles an established relationship as a reader insert and Obi-Wan. If you want honey then you get to take care of a sick Obi-Wan and kind out you have a new kink, if you want Lemon then Obi-Wan takes advantage of said kink and whisks you away to another planet for some R&R under the guise of "work." Enjoy!
Actors/Characters
Ben Hardy
Hold Me Close, Don't Let Me Go by @stray-kaz God. This one shot is just sxy as hell, it's a Billy/Four fro, 6 Underground/Female Reader. Our boy comes home to one hell of an 'I missed you, I need you right now' welcome. GO read it. Right now.
Such an Experience by @rogermyreligionOk. Guys... FUCK, this is a hot little oneshot Roger Taylor of Queen/Female reader and OMG. Just go read it. I've officially stopped counting how many times I've read this. Smutty/Sexy. I'm dead.
Long Distance by @acciotwinzwinz. Y'ALL. Sit your asses down and read this Roger Taylor/Reader insert/You. It's fluffy, its sexy, its cute and the smut is -chefs kiss- Yes, I read this one a lot too.
For now, these are some of my favorites that I frequently reread because I love them. I'll probably be adding more, it's more than likely I've forgotten some...
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Several Shots Later (Pro!Sero x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader) 
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Pairing: Pro!Sero Hanta x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers) 
Synopsis: In which you go on a vacation in an effort to relax and feel more confident, but find yourself falling for the sexy stranger who sends you a drink across the room and also happens to give you some firsthand dance lessons and a night you’ll never forget. 
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Aged Up!Sero (he’s in his late 20s); Chubby!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Marijuana/Alcohol Use; Sero Speaking Spanish; Petnames: (Baby, Mama, Mami); Skinny Dipping; Strangers to Lovers; Drunk Sex; Exhibitionism; Public Oral; Shotgunning; Dirty Talk; Daddy/Papi Kink; Rope Play; Spanking; Spitting; Facefucking; UNPROTECTED PIV Sex; Mild Choking; Mild Degradation; Cum on Body; Aftercare 
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: HAPPY B-DAY WEEK TO MY FAVORITE LATIN KING SERO!! I typed this from his bed btw. Posting it early cuz this weekend, I'm gonna be soooo busy. Anyway, I had this idea after listening to "She's Hot" (the song above) & thinking about dancing to it with Sero cuz y'all know damn well he can MOVE. Enjoy! -Jazz
P.S. If my Spanish is trash or inaccurate, please PLEASE let me know! I used Google Translate lol
Read on AO3 here!
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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.” 
********* 
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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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azure-cherie · 1 year
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Some astro observations pt:4🧡
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Hello how have yall been it's been a long long time so i hope you guys enjoy this post 🥹🧡
All of the observations here are based on sidereal/vedic measurements, this is what I have observed, take what resonates I'm not a professional astrologer, do not plagiarise my work !! I recently got into composite and synastry so i included some of my observations I hope you can relate to them.
🍁Moon - mercury - jupiter conjunction can make the native really intelligent and wise , but the downfall of this placement could be that you're always required to act tough in situations where you just need to let it flow or cry it out , it's like you have to be the mom of the house , like being the person who understands, they expect you to be the bigger person all the time , truth is it's not possible, the faster you realise that you choose your battles the better for you , always choose yourself and let your emotions flow , you don't have to intellectualise everything you got this sweetheart.
With this conjugation being in 10 H you might take an overload of work at your job , being in 11th too fixated on social media ,but at the same time you will be seen as someone who is really wise and would definitely listen to you , in the 5th 😭 it's like being a mother to your mother and people around you 😭 please don't, you are meant to live a free life , however with this being in the 3 rd house can make you a great writer a philosopher , very very intelligent, in 1st house would give you a nerd vibe or just someone who is very intelligent, this in the first could give you a very youthful appearance as well , since mercury represents skin along with the Jupiter and moon gives you like , people would say that you look like the young version of your mother . In the 12 would make you really spiritual and very psychic.
🍁The glass clear skin is a very Virgo thing y'all so pretty pretty. Along with it all chitras have a pearl shine to their skin , like greyish undertone , they're very famous as well.
🍁Having pisces placements in your big three might make you kind of aloof IDC what y'all say pisces know whom to give a fuck about, they ain't dealing with your half ass convos and half ass love, they are the loveliest people alive too i mean i don't know how they manage it , in purva bhadrapada know their worth they aren't sticking with you if you backstab them , they are mostly aloof and know their game very well , Uttara Bhadrapada's are great people very misunderstood, they are just kinda there is what people say , then one day you see the wrath of their anger and suddenly they are the villain like 💀 now no one likes them , you really cannot see a queen queening than that's your problem , with revati I've only observed one boy , like if you want someone to worship you get a revati man fr , they fall so hard in love , sometimes mould themselves which is not the healthiest thing , establishment of boundaries is quite a necessary theme initially for a revati after that you can vibe with what you have made for yourself.
🍁Pushya women will not hear you degrading yourself, they are one of the bestest friends you can have , they will love you more than you love yourself, be sure that you love them that deeply as well , their beautiful heart is a beautiful centerpiece it must be preserved with care .
🍁Hello Aquarius venuses so how many lovers did you gather this week damn like y'all charismatic as hell , i know some people with this placement they have so many lovers , they're pretty unforgettable 🥹 , also a lot of Aquarius Venuses could become others muses , they have the vibe of someone poets write about .
🍁9th H synastry is so interesting, like it's so much about wisdom and teaching each other stuff growing together, loving each other , being their for one another, like the person you are having with it could be a person with heavy anger issues and you are the only one who can calm them down , this synastry is good for partnerships , like in business as well , this will lead to the growth of both of you .
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🍁Moon - sun synastry, oml 💀 initially it's great and nice and you love the play the tension, then deal with the ego clashes , i had it with an ex friend , could make you feel very unworthy, confused too but however it differs with houses as well , as for me it was my 1H moon so yeah 💀 rip my need to change myself anyway this was like when i was 13 or so , it's alright and works good if you're matured enough to handle it ig , no matter the synastry you can always work to make it in your favour .
🍁Composite moon in leo , is so good y'all see those relationships where people grow together and don't work against each other , this is that vibe , power couple, when with friends gives genuine happiness and appreciation for each other , in 2H might bring you money or you could work together for earning money , in 4H business investments, beautiful for growth .
🍁Composite moon in Taurus , i had this with two of the most closed off people I know you know what this makes them open up really easily to you like the whole world thinks they are really hard on themselves and always working but you know they love watching movies and cannot sleep without a soft toy and love heart shaped objects , how lovely is that 🥹.
🍁People with hasta placements are literally not addictied to the internet at all 😂 like please teach me too , and oftentimes they go off so that they can redirect their life , it's like initially they love being on the internet and then suddenly things happen in their life and boom they can't be found for months , but i think it's a good thing that they can focus on themselves now.
🍁Ardra woman and their joy and childlike energy and they way they love so beautiful so fierce , they are very upfront and tell you if they like you and will defend you fearlessly.
🍁Having punarvasu placements can make you very imaginative and good at writing, punarvasu placements can also deal with ardra like themes in their initial years , however due to the redirection theme of this nakshatra they go back to being soft . Also gossiping is a punarvasu sun thing not a punarvasu moon thing , you know i learnt that gossiping existed because of a punarvasu sun but then again that could be the synastry💀 .
🍁People expect Deva gana Nakshatras to be so giving oml it's just a gana no of us is a god 💀 and every Nakshatra has its good and evil side every human does , also a rakshasa gana keeps a Deva gana on their feet , like they can help them establish boundaries well , friendships between Deva and rakshasaganas are better than relationships. Manushya ganas keep vibing they can adjust with anyone which is the best part but if you're one know that your identity must only be influenced by things you wish to embody, don't just jump to get everything that attracts you , learn distinction, it's really nice to be a rakshasa gana , in this age you know how things work and can actively filter out what to fight for which is really hard for a Deva gana to do.
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🍁Sun mercury conjunction can make you good with advice, your fame could be established through the education field, you could be really good at teaching people.
🍁Jyesthas literally do not have to try , they just naturally embody royalty, glamour , beauty , they know so much and are literally so humble , also i have noticed they're always busy or maybe it's a vibe around them , their life moves pretty fast they do a lot of things .
🍁Swatis are literally so pretty, so many popular and beautiful people i know have swati placements, rahu represents the divine feminine so makes sense, ardra being famous because of their childlike nature and social skills , Swati for their beauty and glamour , shatabhisha for their skills , rahu be ruling.
🍁An Ashwini woman is the definition of sophistication , so organized so pretty, knows their stuff and are really sweet and the bestest friend you can ever have .
🍁Vishakhas have had really hard experiences with their family, they could deal with a lot of emotional baggage of their mom , however i have seen most of it healing as they reach their adult stages after being in their teenage years, all the best to you my love you are strong and never alone.
🍁Mulas are very very religious ,they could even numb themselves through religion like it's okay to work on your traumas then to pray , like definitely god will help you but you gotta help yourself first , and after being really angry in their initial life they could become a believer of peace later, they value their alone time so much, also i know two mulas who just want to go down a pilgrim path although they are like so young.
🍁Uttara Phalgunis are so nurturing and loving, they literally love everyone which also makes them prone to being exploited 🤡 stop taking advantage of my queens 👑 , they deserve the world , they could also have a golden tint to their skin and are very enthusiastic towards life , could deal through some feuds with authority figure sometimes .
Do you guys want me to study divisional charts and make a post on it , if yes which one , general suggestions are very very welcome and requested , tell me anything you'd like me to make a post on 🧡
Thank you so much for reading
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luminousfurby · 5 months
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Ooft, this OFMD discourse sure is something. [OFMD finale spoilers under the cut]
My personal hot take is that it was really, really obvious that Izzy was going to die given how fast-tracked his character development was this season.
You can be disappointed that they killed a character you liked and of the belief that it wasn't handled in the best way (which is more or less where my opinion lies) whilst also recognising that time and cost restrains had a very obvious impact on how that played out.
I'm finding it incredibly bizarre that there are people who are less disappointed by the writing/pacing and more just outraged that the show had the audacity to kill a character that is quite well liked. That's life, baby! It's a show about pirates, we were going to lose a fan favourite eventually. And god, I'm begging y'all to watch more stuff or read more books because killing a character you like is disappointing and upsetting, sure, but that's the point - it doesn't mean the shows creators are out to get you, or leaning into bury your gays or whatever. It's how fiction works, it's how it's always worked.
It's totally normal to be upset, or disappointed, or to not think it was the best decision, whether that's narrative-wise or just because you like that character. That's okay! But acting like the writers and showrunner have done you a personal disservice and harassing them online is just some next level fandom brain rot. I can't say I'm surprised, because the moment I watched that scene I was like 'uh oh, this is gonna go down like a lead balloon', but in a lot of ways I'm kind of impressed that they went ahead and did it anyway all the while knowing how popular that character is. That's bold as fuck. You may not agree with it, but the creators clearly understand how much people love Izzy and felt it was important to that character's journey for them to die at that time.
I just wish people could understand that those two things can coexist - that you can be disappointed for any reason, and you can also recognise that sometimes characters do die because that is how fiction works and you're not always going to be happy with narrative or character beats in a show you love.
For me, ultimately, despite the budget and pacing issues this was a really damn good second season. They leaned into a lot of the themes I really loved in season 1 and took the characters and narrative in places I hadn't expected it to go. I think that the final episode (in a few places!) was unfortunately a bit rushed and some of the key emotional beats were unearned, but like many others in the fandom I think it's clear that the 2 extra episodes planned would have alleviated a lot of those issues. It's a shame, but it doesn't take away from what was overall a really solid and enjoyable season of television imo.
I also really respect that given the current landscape of television and streaming content, the showrunners had the foresight to leave their final episode open whilst also tying up loose ends. It doesn't seem to always matter if a show has fans or not before it's unceremoniously cancelled, so I appreciate the consideration for the fans in making sure we at least have some areas of closure in the event that it doesn't get renewed for a third season.
To end on a positive - Izzy fans, I know this is an upsetting time. I get it, I've been through the trenches of being disappointed in a character's death before, whether that's because it felt unearned or because it was just sad. Your grief is allowed and you should absolutely express it, but that shouldn't be done by harassing or vilifying the show runners. Those same people also created a character you love and the reason you're feeling wrung out is precisely because they did a good job with that character in the first place. We shouldn't be turning on creators just because they did something we didn't agree with, criticism is okay but there's a line, and a lot of people are crossing waaaaay over it.
Take some time, y'all. Make a cup of tea, draw some fanart, read some fanfic, channel that sadness into something constructive. Trust me when I say you'll feel so much better longer term if you don't hold onto that anger and you get yourself to a place where you can positively engage with fandom and enjoy yourselves again. Instead of piling onto David Jenkins, why not instead shower Con O'Neill with praise because he absolutely fucking smashed it.
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luckycharming · 1 month
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Not trying to be messy or bitchy on main, but why don't y'all review fanfics anymore? Why don't y'all comment on the stories y'all have read and liked? Like, deadass, as a writer/creator myself, if I slave away and put my whole ass pussy into creating and crafting these really good stories, and nobody reviews them, what's my incentive to keep creating?
And I've heard it be said thousands of times that you should do it for fun! You should do it because blah blah blah! And I get it! I really! It's not good to create solely because of x, y, and z and that's valid, but! I'm also doing this shit for free. Like, fanfic authors bust their asses writing for free. This is a free consumption, and I'm just saying, if you like or love the stories written, why can't y'all let it be known? Why can't y'all comment and review it? It literally doesn't take even a third of the effort it took the writers themselves to write the damn shit.
I remember when I first got into fanfiction and I was in awe, okay? There were so many wonderful stories and authors and you bet your right testicle I made sure I left reviews. Hell, I would even PM them and let them know that hey, I really loved that fic you wrote! This is what it meant to me and thank you so much for not only writing it, but being brave enough to share it with the world because regardless of the ship/fandom/etc., that takes guts!
And y'all won't even do the bare minimum. And then have the nerve to wonder why the quality of writing is shit or why people are leaving the fandom spaces. It makes no sense that stories that are so horribly written and out of character have hundreds, if not thousands of reviews, but the actual good shit barely has fifty, and that's me being generous.
I'm just tired of putting all this effort into shit that I'm not getting anything back from because it's not enough to love what you do. Like, why is it bad that I want people to leave long or nice comments on my work? Why is that me being greedy to want some positive engagement on my content? Or unless I write for popular ships, people won't read my shit? Which isn't bad, because if I like a ship, regardless of if it's popular or canon or so on and so forth, I'm gonna ship it, but still.
And not even that's a guarantee that people will read it, and I don't like don't gimmicky shit. I don't like feeling like I have to dim the quality of my work to get people to fuck with my shit, and it's not me being insecure in my writing because I'm a damn good writer. I know what I bring to the fucking table, but how are we supposed to keep the fandom spaces alive if nobody's engaging with shit anymore?
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modernperplexity · 11 months
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Mine Ch. 1: Homecoming
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Chapter Rating: E (18+) Minors DNI, mention of alcohol, substance abuse, suggestive language, abandonment.
Word Count: 4K
A/N: Ahh the day is here and Chapter 1 is finally posted! I apologize for the delay. I had originally planned for this to be up sooner but life happened and my week became more busy than expected. You guys, this first chapter is kind of massive as I am introducing characters and setting up the plot. As I mentioned in my previous post, this is my very first fic so please be kind and bear with me. My asks are open to suggestions, questions, comments, etc. I definitely want to grow and improve as a writer <3
Again, special thanks to @ssuperficialspacecadett, your advice on fic writing was truly helpful! <3 Please, please, please be sure to check out her writing! She is SO very talented!
If you'd like to join the tag list click here :)
Happy Frankie Friday y'all!
Mine Masterlist
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Mine Chapter 1: Homecoming
It felt like the billionth-mile marker you had passed on the way to your new apartment. “Almost home, just three more hours to go.” you quietly encouraged your tired self after 18 hrs on the road. You miss the warm kiss of the Florida sun and the palm trees gently swaying in the cool breeze of the beach. The open road ahead was brimming with new possibilities but the closer you came to home, the more daunting it all became. Your hands nervously gripped the steering wheel as you took a deep breath in and slowly out. “It’s the right choice, new job, new era, just with familiar people...It was the right call.” You muttered to yourself, doing your best to quiet the insecure thoughts with your favorite podcast.
You had loved Seattle- absolutely adored it. Your job was amazing, and your apartment beautiful, but tainted. So you pushed through an extra six months after calling off the engagement in an attempt to make the city your own, only to realize you had outgrown it. You had outgrown that relationship too, gave him so many damn chances to fess up about his dubious behavior but drew the line when you serendipitously found a red lacey thong under his bed.
*RINGGG* your phone blared through your train of thought, consequently yanking you back to earth. “Hey, girl! How’s the road?” Michele had been ecstatic at the recent news of your return and proud that you had split with Sam. He was what she often referred to as a “pinche cabron” (fucking idiot). After all, Michele was not the type of person to keep her thoughts to herself. She was always intuitive and strong. Her shoulder being the one you’d lean on time and time again.
“It’s…long” you laughed nervously, “Can’t wait to get my hands on a Cubano and some Tostones.”
“Oh my god! That’s right, you’ve been deprived! I’ll pick some up for us and swing by your new place. Just send me your new address and ETA.”
“You’re an angel! Thank you!” you chirped, your voice betraying your efforts to mask the anxiety boiling up in your chest.
“Hey… you okay?” 
Nothing gets past this woman.
A deep sigh relieves the tension in your body while you shift in your seat, stretching your aching back. “Yeah, just getting in my head. Coming home is the right call…right?”. You almost felt defeated, like you moved across the country and came back with nothing to show for it.
“Absolutely! Honestly, after everything that happened. I don’t blame you. I would’ve done the same thing. You know what? I know just what you need. We’re going out.” 
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The next few days were a blur. The moving boxes in your living room were now nearly gone thanks to Michele and a couple of other friends and family that had stopped by to welcome you back home. Thank goodness for their help, your body was so tired from the trip, it didn’t dawn on you until last night that you’d start your new Speech Language Pathologist Assistant (SLPA) job at the speech clinic the next day. 
The clinic had more Speech Language Pathologists (SLPs) and SLPAs than you were used to but that was a blessing honestly. After a day of orientation and introductions, you really felt like you had landed on your feet. The sense of familiarity eased your new job jitters. The lead therapist showed you to your office and you began setting your room up with materials and games for the patients you’d be seeing that day. Lindsay, the sweet SLPA whose office was across from yours, briefly introduced herself and gave you a heads-up about the patients on your schedule. She passed along her notes on the patients who she had seen previously. Their preferences in toys, games, and their progress toward their goals.
“Thank you so much, Lindsay. This is a huge help!” 
“No problem, who’s first on your schedule?”
Your hands scrambled through your notes. “Umm…Camila Morales. Have you done therapy with her before?”
“Nope, must be an initial visit. She’s a little one too, says she’s only 3 years old on her evaluation.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks!” You said as you turned on your heel and continued preparing for the session.
Should be fine. Just interviewing the parent, going over goals, letting the patient get to know me… I got this.
You grabbed your patient’s chart at the front desk as the 9 o’clock patients signed in. Lindsay nudged your side and nodded in the direction of the reception desk as a handsome man in a cap grabbed a pen and a clipboard. “I think that’s your patient being signed in”. With a slight nod, you made your way to meet your first patient of the day. 
“Camila Morales” you called into the waiting room.
Camila slowly and carefully climbed off the waiting room chair as she heard her name. Her dark chocolate curls gathered into two ponytails bouncing as she made her way to greet you.
 “You must be Camila! I’m your speech teacher, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m so excited to show you all the toys we will use for your therapy session today.” You chirped sweetly as you crouched down to her eye level. The corners of her lips slightly curved into a sheepish smile as she held her father’s hand and a light blue stuffed bunny in the other.  
“Morning, Miss. Sorry about Bunzy, she refuses to go just about anywhere without him” he explained. 
Your gaze met the deep brown eyes of the man in the cap. His gaze was strong but warm, his smile immediately charming. “Good morning! Oh please don’t worry, it won’t be a bother.” You give him your name and stretch out your hand “You must be Mr. Morales.” 
“Oh, no. I’m not, uh… I’m Santiago…Santiago Garcia, Cami’s godfather. Fish asked me to bring Cami to her first appointment. He got caught up at work but he’ll be here for the next session.” He breathed. He settled in the chair in your office, watching as Cami eagerly darted to the Dollhouse you brought out for her, already making herself comfortable much to his content.
It took you a moment to register what Santiago said. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I assumed you were her father. Um…did you say Fish?” You said as you grinned at the odd pet name and looked over Camila’s file.
He let out a slight chuckle “I did… My apologies, I meant Mr. Morales...old habits, I guess” he shrugged in awe at himself using a prefix before his best friend’s last name. The way it rolled off his tongue, was unnatural, like a fish out of water.
“Ah,” you smiled, “Got it. Well, today is going to be a pretty easygoing session. I just want to get to know her, let her get to know me, and we will go over her speech goals” You took a packet of speech delay information that you usually handed out to parents and handed them to Santiago. “Please pass along this information to Mr. Morales.. Can you tell me more about Camila?”
Santiago filled you in on Cami’s favorite games, songs, books, and toys. He knew her first words and how frustrated she would get when she could not communicate her wants and needs. He knew Cami quite well and talked about her as if she was his own. She was so comfortable with him, it was easy to see that they had a strong bond. As predicted, the session was a breeze and soon enough Cami was waving goodbye to you as Santiago carried a giggling Cami down the hall, praising her for earning a glittery unicorn sticker. You swear you could hear his smile as he said “Te portaste muy bien preciosa” (You behaved so well, lovely girl).
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It was the 5th attempt at coming up with an outfit tonight. The clock was ticking and you knew you were behind schedule. Michele was on her way and she was never one to be late. The room was a mess and your clothes were everywhere. You glanced at your phone which read 8:50 pm. The time pressuring you to settle on a pair of black distressed wide-leg jeans, block-heeled sandals, and a cowl neck camisole. 
Oh my god! Michele is going to kill me. I haven't even done my makeup!
You went for an easy look, foundation, blush, mascara, light shadow, and eyeliner. Not trying to impress anyone tonight, It was a girl's night after all. As you applied the finishing touches to your make-up, you heard the front door that you had left unlocked anticipating Michele’s arrival, creak open. Soon after, her steps echoed down the hall leading to your bathroom.
Shit, out of time. 
“G’damn, mujer, you’re not ready?” She leaned, arms crossed against the door frame.
Your makeup brush hit the vanity and your hands swung up at the sound of her voice, “I’m ready, I swear... I’m ready” You giggled.
“Okay, Slothy McSlothson. I hope you stocked up your fridge with Pedialite cause we’re probably gonna need it later” she chided “I’ll put in the Lyft request and let the other girls know we’ll be heading out soon”
“You sneaky girl! I’ve been rushing thinking it was pre-scheduled!” a playful scoff leaving your mouth.
“What? I know you! I knew you were gonna run late, so I figured I’d get the Lyft when I got to your place.” She shrugged and reached for the bottle of Gin she brought for you and mixed it with mango juice. 
“Here, I thought we’d pregame before the Lyft gets here. I know you can get a little nervous going out sometimes.”
A small gasp left you, “My little Cuban hero, thanks!” eagerly taking the cup and taking a sip, “Where are we going anyway?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
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You heard excited squeals as you walked into the lively Cuban bar, the upbeat Salsa filling the space, almost drowning out their enthusiastic embraces. The friends you hadn’t seen in a few years, Crystal, Lexi, and Naomi, ran up to hug you and Michele. After ordering your drinks you sat at a table near the folding window of the bar. They caught you up on their love lives, work, and family. You tried hard to keep the attention on them and not on your failed engagement but it was only a matter of time before it came up.
“Wait, why are we the only ones talking… what happened with Sam?” Crystal asked.
In an instant Michele looked up at you after taking a sip of her drink, attempting to read your expression to know if she needed to change the subject or not. She could read you like a book. 
Your gaze met hers, “It’s fine” you waived her off “Things with Sam are done, turns out he wasn’t as committed to me or the idea of spending the rest of his life with one person.” 
“Awe shit” Lexi added, “so that means..”
“Yep, found a little souvenir his girl left behind” They all groaned, almost in unison.
“It’s okay, I think I’m better off. I’m relieved I found out before I gave up my apartment or started making any deposits on venues.”
“And you’re back now… who knows, maybe you were meant to course correct and come back home.” Crystal chimed in.
“Either way, you seem like you’re doing great. We’re glad to have you back” Michele smiled and squeezed your hand to reassure you.
The night continued as your group bar hopped from place to place. The warm summer breeze enveloped you as you walked arm linked with your friends. Michele led your group to the last stop of the night. You all but stopped in your tracks when you saw the buzzing neon Live Karaoke sign. 
Well, this is going to be fun.
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Frankie couldn’t help his fidgeting tonight, consistently checking his phone for updates on Cami. He wondered if she finished her dinner if she struggled during bath time, or if she gave his mom trouble when it was time to go to bed. He leaned on his mom for support if he absolutely needed to. Only letting her babysit when he was at work or when he ran errands. He was so hell-bent on being a good father and staying out of trouble that he hardly let himself relax. He reasoned he owed Cami that much, especially after Ashley decided to leave. After her frustration with his decision to go on that mission, after he came back distraught by the loss of Tom and the wreck of a mission that he was part of, only to fall into the familiar comfort of his vice. Fed up and devastated, Ashley decided to take Cami to Frankie’s mother’s house after saying she was going out for groceries only to never return. That was the day that changed everything. It was that moment that snapped him back into reality. He needed to do better, be better, for Cami. That was all that mattered.
There was no way in hell Santiago would let him cancel. Not after he, Ben, and Will had planned this night for weeks. It had only been a couple of days since Santiago’s return from traveling around the world. This night was a big deal, it was the first time in a long time they were finally all in one place. Frankie would not hear the end of it if he bailed, especially since Pope was currently staying at Frankie’s until he found a place of his own. Frankie loved his daughter but It did sound nice to let loose with the boys. He had worked so hard to be who he was now.
“Fish, you good?” Santi asked, as he gave him a solid pat on the back “Seemed like you were somewhere else for a sec.”
“Just worried about Cami” he breathed before raising his glass to his lips.
“She’s in safe hands, it’s your mom. She raised YOU, she can handle Cami” Will chimed in and took a sip of his beer.
“You guys have been going on about how you’ve been planning this for weeks and you settled… on a karaoke bar?” Frankie chuckled.
“It was Ben’s idea,” Will and Santiago said in unison.
Ben rolled his eyes, “What? It was an honest mistake, we failed to notice one little detail.” 
“The bar we wanted to go to turns into a club on Saturday nights, and we all know clubbing is not your scene or mine” Will added.
“...and remind me what was wrong with our usual spot?” Frankie pressed.
“C’mon man, It’s a great bar! Brought a date out here last week. Just give it a chance. The live band is great!” 
“As long as you don’t sign me up” Ben gave Frankie a devilish grin and stood up “Ben...Benny…don’t you fucking dare!” Frankie’s grip became tighter around the beer he was nursing.
“C’mon old man, it’s all in good fun! You boys make sure he gets a couple more drinks in him, I’ll be right back” Ben winked as he walked away.
Santiago laughed as Frankie dragged his hands over his face “Tranquilo, I’m sure he just went to the bathroom or somethin’ he’s just busting your balls.” Frankie sighs “He’s right though, you gotta chill... I’ll get us another round”
A group of girls walked by and caught Santiago’s eye as he made it to the bar. Particularly one of the girls. She was pretty- very pretty. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her somewhere. It bothered Santiago for all of two minutes until he decided he’d let it go and focus on the boys. He rounded up the beers he ordered and turned to walk back to the group when he heard you. He recognized your voice. He hardly recognized you without your scrubs on. “Oh shit! That’s Cami’s speech teacher!” he muttered under his breath. He thought it best to keep this to himself, for that moment at least. He returned to the table when his mouth dropped. “No.. way! Is that-”
“Ben. Fucking. Miller…who knew he had it in him!?” Frankie interrupted. His suspicions were half correct. Ben had made his way to sign someone up to the karaoke list- himself. 
Ben taps the mic half haphazardly and clears his throat “Is everyone having a good time!?” the crowd cheers “I said.. Is everyone having a good time!!?” the crowd cheers even louder, “M’names Ben…Ben Miller and I’m about to make it even better.” he chuckled to himself “Alright ‘nuff talk, this one’s for my boys!” he turned to the band drink in hand as they continued the chord progressions to The Boys are Back In Town by Thin Lizzy. 
“That boy…always loved the limelight. He’s eating this shit up” Will chuckled as he shook his head.
“Holy shit” Santiago nodded to the music “not bad either”. He laughed and turned to see a more relaxed Frankie who had his sight set somewhere other than the stage. It seemed that Santiago wasn’t the only one who had noticed you.
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The live karaoke bar had the feel of a big theatre with two levels. Each table had a great view of the stage that had a full live band that had an expansive repertoire of songs available for those brave enough to sign up. The stage was impressive and lively, the stage lights changed colors and moved depending on the song of choice.
After getting your drinks, you and the girls decided on a table close to the stage when a guy named Ben went up to sing. He was really into the song- holding on to the mic stand and swinging it around while he sang. The lights turned blue and yellow around him, highlighting his strong features. 
“Wooo Ben!” Lexi cheered,“he’s hot.. definitely your type, Michele”
“Ooh, she’s not wrong Meesh, he’s right up your alley” you added “Wha- oh… okay” you laughed as you realized you and Lexi hadn’t even noticed that Michele had left the table. “Could’ve sworn she was right next to me” you shrugged.
Ben’s song came to a close and the crowd cheered. He definitely was a crowd favorite, from what you had seen, at least. There was a lull for a few minutes while the live band played an 80’s song in the background when the lights turned down and the stage lights turned red. You heard what you thought was the intro to a Queen song and you knew immediately who’d be up there. A sweet and slightly buzzed Michele appeared on stage. “Hi, I’m Michele and this song goes out to my best friend who just moved back to Florida- put your hands together for her!” the spotlight shone on you and the crowd cheered. Your eyes went wide, and your body stiffened. You tried your best not to cower in the heat of the light. All you could manage was a shy smile and wave. After what felt like an eternity, the spotlight shifted back to the stage, as you heard Michele start to sing and dance to the melody of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. The stress of being the center of attention left your mouth dry. You needed a drink- desperately. 
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Frankie’s gaze followed you as you walked to the bar. He was almost mesmerized, maybe this could be a good night but there was no way he could talk to you. He couldn’t even remember the last time he flirted. His whole world had been consumed by NA meetings, work, and taking care of his little girl. 
“Wow, Fish, she’s gorgeous! At least go buy her a drink. If you don’t, I will, and we both know I’ll go home with more than just her number” Ben breathed.
*smack!* Without hesitation Will slapped Benny upside the head
“Shut up Ben!” Santiago retorted, pausing to look at Frankie. “He’s right, you gotta get back out there. It’s been a while since…just…let yourself have some fun. I’ve seen how you've been gawking at her for the last 5 minutes. If you don’t go, I’ll beat Benny to the bar and we all know. it will be over for you then” he winks.
Frankie turns to Will, who had consistently been the voice of reason. “Pope’s right, at least go talk to her. What have you got to lose?”
“I’ll give you a head start” Benny started counting down with a shit-eating grin “Three…two”
Frankie jerked up and out of his seat, beer in hand almost spilling some on his shirt from the sheer force of the movement “You know what?...Fuck all of you!” he said with a wide smirk and middle finger in the air. He started toward the bar, the men’s laughter fading in the background.
His pace slowed down when he saw you sitting at the bar. He could tell you were kind by the way your eyes sparkled and smiled along with your curving lips when you talked to the bartender. You looked so pretty, so sweet, so…unattainable. There was no way he could talk to you. Frankie started to panic. His mind started to race and think of the many ways he would ruin it. What was the point of even trying to talk to someone new? He had ruined his previous relationship and basically tore his family apart. Why run the risk of going through something like that again? He was more than halfway to the bar when you caught him looking at you.
Fuck, there’s no turning back now. 
Frankie groaned at the thought of the plaguing questions he’d receive from Ben and Pope. He thought it best to bring back a round of beers to ease the embarrassment. 
“I’ll have four Blue Moons,” He said, his body tense as he took a seat on the red stool. 
“You wanna close the tab or leave it open?” 
“You can go ahead and close it..thanks.” He said as he shifted in his seat, reaching for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The bartender placed the beers on the bar and placed the customer's receipt and a pen in front of him. Frankie was about to sign when he noticed something.
Tequila Sunrise………$6.45
His gaze lifted to look for the bartender, “Uh.. this isn’t my-”
“I think he mixed up our receipts” a kind voice sweetly interrupted. 
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“I couldn’t toss back four bottles in one sitting if I tried” You shrugged, and smiled at the handsome stranger, “Do you mind?” 
“Not at all” he motioned to the seat next to him.
“Rough night, I take it?”
“Oh uh…nah these aren’t all for me but if I was having a rough night, this would be the part where it starts to get better” he flashed you a half smile before taking a sip of his beer. That was the moment when you really noticed his features. The hook of his nose, how his locks curled and peaked under his hat, the small target tattoo on the hand that held his beer.
God, he’s gorgeous.
“So.. tequila, huh,” he said as he handed you your receipts.
“Yeah... I uh, needed something a bit stronger after my friend’s shout-out. It was sweet, but If I’m being honest don’t like being the center of attention.”
“I get that. Well..welcome back. I’m Frankie by the way” he stretched out his hand and shook yours. Your heartbeat reacted to the way his touch felt on your skin. 
You both watched the following performances, giggling as you created silly backstories for each person and why they selected the song they were belting out on stage. This was nice, definitely a breath of fresh air in comparison to the handful of dates you had recently been on- your attempt at getting “back out there”. This wasn’t even a date but you couldn’t help but notice how effortless and natural it felt. You talked about your childhood and your favorite beaches to visit. How you used to love stargazing while listening to the sound of the crashing waves, it was your favorite thing to do especially on a bad day. Frankie shared what brought him to Florida, how he enlisted with his best friend, and what prompted him to begin his career as a pilot. His eyes lit up when he talked about flying, his passion and pride on full display. The beers he had ordered stood forgotten, highlighting the time that had passed.
“Oh wow, I uh.. should get back to my group, and by the looks of it your friends might be needing their beers chilled” you chuckled “But it was really nice talking to you, Frankie,” You said hopping off the barstool.
“I had a great time talking to you too, Hermosa. I hope you have a great rest of your night” His deep chocolate-brown eyes scanned yours. “You too,” You said as you smiled and turned, ready to head back to your group.
“Wait!” he reached out, his fingers gently curling around your wrist, “I didn’t get your name”. The pen the bartender left out came in handy as you reached for it with one hand and held his with the other. Frankie couldn’t help but stare as you bit your lip while you wrote down your name and number on his palm, carefully drawing a small heart next to your name. 
“Call me sometime.”
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  “Aaand he’s back! Pope and I thought we were gonna have to go over there and remind you that tonight was for the boys!” Ben teased as Frankie shook his head as he handed the beers to the men.
“So, how’d it go?” Santi prodded.
“She’s great, we hit it off..” 
“You get her number or is my beer dangerously close to being lukewarm for nothin’?” Will chided with a sly grin.
“Awe shit..” Frankie’s brows furrowed at the sight of ink smeared on his palm, “the fuckin beers” His eyes desperately searched the venue, but you were nowhere in sight.
“The hell happened Fish…OH, damn that sucks.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck “Well.. uh..did ya at least get her name?” 
Frankie dragged his hand against his face cursing himself for not being more careful.
Pope padded him on the back “Well who knows.. if it’s fate” he shrugged with a half smile, “you’ll see her again”.
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You had spent part of your weekend awaiting a text or a call from Frankie. To your dismay, the only notifications causing your screen to glow were Instagram notifications, promotion e-mails, and texts from Michele, who had been eagerly awaiting an update on your situation. By the time Monday rolled around you had given up hope that the brown-eyed pilot you had met that weekend had any interest. You chalked up your connection to him being overly friendly. It wasn’t like he really initiated. Maybe he wouldn’t have talked to you at all had it not been for the bartender’s mistake. You shrugged and shook it off, there wasn’t much you could do about it.
Monday morning’s alarm came a lot faster than you had hoped. You put on your scrubs and grabbed a piece of toast and a cup of coffee before rushing out the door. You were determined to have a great morning. Listened to your upbeat playlist in the car singing your little heart all the way to work. 
You made your way down the clinic hall, excited to meet your first patient of the day. Opening the door to see a sweet little curly-haired girl swaying her legs in her seat.
“Cam- Oof!” Little Cami crashed into you as her little arms wrapped around your legs, “Hello to you too Cami!” you smiled at her as you heard footsteps approaching.
“Hermosa?” Your eyes went wide at the sound of the voice, his voice.
Chapter 2
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@ssuperficialspacecadett @spookyjamie333
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icypantherwrites · 2 months
Text
It is finished.
Words I wasn't sure I was ever going to be able to write, but at 11:51 pm last night they became reality.
Bottled Ocean is finished.
I am really, really proud of myself for being able to come back to this story. I started writing it in all the way back in May 2020 so it has been almost four years from start to finish and it's been a really long, bumpy road. So much has happened over those four years and the story went from a vibrant, engaged audience when it first published to, if I'm lucky, one or two engaged readers and maybe five reading it total. It's been really hard to put forth the energy into writing such a monster of a story (it is officially over 250,000 words long) knowing that there's no one there really to read it and even now I'll be lucky to have one or two engaged readers for it.
But it is done. My legacy after writing over 400 fanfictions in the last 7 years is not an incomplete story. It's something I can look back on and be proud of that I wrote that and as anyone knows, 250,000 words is not a small undertaking.
I had promised myself that if I went back to writing this I would finish the story before it began publishing again on Patreon (which resumes today) and then life hit. I had Covid the last two weeks and felt really terrible and dizzy and unable to focus. I thought writing fight scenes was hard, bah, writing fight scenes while you're distracted by the word 'sword' because it says 's-word' and going off on a tangent of swear words you think pirates would say while still trying to write a fight scene is hard. I kept going.
I reached yesterday morning and realized that I still had at least four chapters to write and I wasn't sure how I was going to do it and even if my deadline was self-imposed I was going to fail it.
I didn't.
Outside of taking breaks to walk the dog (it reached 42 here in Chicagoland and for this time of the year that's practically tropical) and guzzling down over half of a 2-liter of Dr. Pepper and trying to drink water in there too, I did it. I sat down, wrote my ass off, and a little over 16,000 words of the most pinnacle parts of the story as it all comes together and concludes I did it. I am exhausted and I honestly didn't even recall most of the final chapter so I went back and read it this morning and not to toot my horn but damn I'm a good writer, and I am just so relieved and happy it is done.
I am done too. My writing journey comes to an end with this story (I'll still for sure be posting on Patreon for the rest of 2024 though with my insane backlog and of course Bottled Ocean and some works on AO3 too) and I'm hanging up my keyboard. It has been a long seven years full of the good and the bad, the bright spots and the dark, but I can look back at this chapter of my life and see that I wrote over 3.2 million words worth of stories to share and I feel...
I feel content. And relieved and honestly my wrists are aching from pressing against my laptop all night, but I am happy. Thank you to all who came on this writing journey with me, who have been with me since As Color Fades Away posted in 2017 or stumbled across my works this year. It has been a life-changing seven years of writing.
I'll still be around here posting updates and hopefully, maybe, trying to get a few of y'all to bite at Bottled Ocean and join me in reading my final fanfiction, but this author is finally, finally finished and it is the start of a new adventure.
Thanks everyone ♥
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sorryjustafangirl · 1 year
Text
babe for the weekend
a/n: this is a little different than what i usually write, in terms of boy and structure but i am really really proud of how it turned out, so i hope y'all like it too! the title comes from Taylor Swift's ''tis the damn season" and it quite inspired by it. this is for @broadstbroskis, one of the very first writers i starting following on hockeyblr. it was an absolute honour to write for her in @antoinerousselssel's winter fic exchange and i really really hope she enjoys it (and all its Swiftie references <3)
pairing: morgan rielly x fem!reader
word count: 8.8k+
warnings: a few swears, holiday setting (although not crazy prominent), childhood idiot friends to lovers?
disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and this beautiful gif is not mine! p.s. i know he got engaged recently (to the figure skating love of my life Tessa Virtue; congrats to them!) but i was too deep in the fic to switch it when i heard the news. hope you still love it!
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Morgan had been getting you out of trouble since the day you two could walk. You’d knock over a vase, and he’d find a way to blame the dog. You’d convince him to mattress surf down the stairs, and he put it back while you stalled your mom so she wouldn’t know. He would tell his mom that she “saw you walk up the stairs after dinner like hours ago” when you only snuck in his window four minutes before. 
That didn’t end when he left to play junior hockey or when he got drafted and you moved across the country for school. Despite being in the same city, you relied less on him to bail you out as you got older, but every once in a while, his number was on speed dial to decipher if a guy was phishing you or for a 2am pickup from the club. 
Granted, you’d saved him just as many times. You’d posed as his girlfriend to save him from puck bunnies and more than once told his mom it was you he was out with, instead of the girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. Every other week, he’d call with a question he was too embarrassed to ask his own mom (“is $10 too much for a carton of orange juice?”). 
You just never thought he’d be bailing you out like this. 
As the youngest of four kids (and the last single one), your parents were overbearing about your love life to say the least. But in the holiday season? It dialed up to 11. 
“Are you sure you’re alright though? We don’t want you to be feeling lonely.” Your mom brought up at the end of your weekly Zoom family call, complete with all your siblings and grandma. 
“For the last time, I am not lonely. I have great friends, I have a good job at an ad agency, and my credit card is paid off. I’m doing great!”
“But it’s a big city, darling. You’ve been out of school for years and you still haven’t told us about any guy. Or-or girl, if you’re into that,” she tried to reason.
“Mom, she isn’t lonely because she’s getting some!” Ben, your youngest brother, chimed in, making you cringe. 
“Grow up, dork,” Julie, your eldest sister, said at the same time your older brother, James, said “Nice one!”
“Kids, you’re making Grams blush, can you knock it off?” Your dad chimed in. Ben’s face flushed but that didn’t stop James from poking the bear. 
“Just think Mom, there’s less people to feed at Christmas!” 
“That’s what you take out of this? Your sister could be at risk for depression.”
“I don’t have depression!”
“You always talk to me with an iced coffee, I do get a little concerned.” “Rude!” “Hey! Ruby drinks iced coffees too and she’s not depressed.” “She’s in a relationship with you, I’d rethink that.” “You aren’t depressed when you’re in happy relationships, that’s what I know.” “Grams, that is not true.” “That’s what Cynthia at book club said!” “None of that changes the fact that your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time and I’m worried about her!” “She’s not that old Brenda.” “She’s not seventeen anymore Thomas, our daughter is getting older and if she wants kids–” “Kids? Mom, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” “That’s my point!” “Who said she wants kids?” “Julie, you’re a mother, you should know every woman wants kids!” “Grams, that isn’t true.” 
All of their overlapping voices seemed to get louder, rattling around in your brain, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 
“I have a boyfriend!” You blurted and the screen silenced. You relished the small moment of quiet before the sound exploded again. 
“What?” “Yes!” “Who is he?” “Is he coming home with you?” “What’s his name?”
“Woah, woah. One at a time please,” you nervously laughed. 
“What’s his name?” The smiles on your mom and Grams faces were so wide it was starting to freak you out and your brain froze. What’s a boy’s name what’s a boy name what’s a boy’s name??
“Morgan.” 
Your brain blurted out the name before you realized its implications. 
“Morgan?” Your mom’s smile widened. “Like our Morgan? The Rielly’s boy?” 
Shit, shit, shit. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”
“If they couldn’t get together in high school, no way it would happen now. I say it’s different.” “There’s lots of Morgans in Toronto! It’s a big city.” 
“Yeah, I call bullshit on this whole boyfriend thing,” your older sister Julie chimed in.
You felt blood starting to drain from your face “What?” 
“Oh c’mon! All we have is a name? You don’t want to share his job or what he looks like? You can’t even tell us if he’s coming back with you. You’re just faking it.”
“His work is busy, we haven’t decided if he’s coming back yet!”
“Two weeks before the holidays?” She raised an eyebrow and you pursed your lips. 
“Fine. I was going to surprise you instead, but yes he’s coming back with me. And he has blond hair. Happy?” Julie only shrugged but you could hear your grandmother rejoice in the background of the call. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you all in two weeks.”
“With Morgan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet him!”
“Yes. With Morgan.” You ended the phone call and flopped into your couch pillows before letting out a scream. 
Where were you going to find a Morgan with blond hair to act as a fake-boyfriend to meet your family across the country?  
-----
“Just call your Morgan.” Your best friend, Ivy, said as the two of you sat in Fran’s, the best diner for burger and fries past Jarvis street, for your regular lunch chat.  
“No, it’d be weird! He’s known my family for a long time and we’re friends.” You shook your head while munching on your fries. 
“Those are exactly the reasons you should take him! Plus, you said his name. I don’t get why you’re making it into this big deal about taking him.” 
“Because it is!”
“But why? It’s not like you’re in love with him,” She said, dipping her fries in ketchup. 
“About that…” You trailed off, biting your lip waiting for her reaction. 
She dropped the food before it could get to her mouth. “No!”
“Look, it was when we were in high school! I was about to tell him when we moved out here, but then he was saying how there was so much on his plate and he was feeling a lot of pressure and I just didn’t want to add to that, you know?” You took a bite of your food before continuing. “I didn’t want him to resent me for telling him at such a crucial point in his life.” 
“And now?”
You shrugged. “I think I’ll always have some sort of feelings for him. He was my best friend growing up.”
“You’re going to have to be really good at hiding those feelings when you’re posing as boyfriend and girlfriend with him.”
“Who said I’m asking him?”
Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Where else are you going to find a blond-haired Morgan to bring home to your family across the country in less than two weeks?” You threw a fry at her, which she grabbed and put on her own plate. “Besides, there’s no harm in asking. He can always say no.”
-----
“Yes.”
“Really?” You asked a little too loudly, putting your coffee mug down a little too harshly, gaining the attention of others in the cafe the two of you routinely catch up in. But you didn’t care. You were expecting a little more skepticism from Morgan when you proposed him playing a fake boyfriend role in front of your family. 
“Yeah, ‘course. It’s my job to bail you out of trouble, isn’t it?” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Besides, I haven’t seen Vancouver or your family in a while. It’d be nice to go back to the old times.” 
“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, instinctively placing a hand on his arm laid across the table. “Okay, so I don’t know when your season ends but I’m hoping we can fly out for like three days maximum, so it’ll be quick, and we can use your job as an excuse so that’ll be good. For the story, obviously we just went out one day after being friends for a long time, so that’ll be easy. You asked me out. Five or six months is a good timeline for them not knowing but also you coming home so let’s stick to that. You can’t tell your parents because my mom will be furious if Shirley knew before her. Um, Ben, my little brother – you know him–, he’s bringing his girlfriend Ruby, but she’s chill so you’ll get along with her a lot. Drew, my oldest nephew, he’s Julie’s kid and then Charlie and Julie had Rebekah the year before last and Izzy, who is James’s wife, just had baby Taylor a couple months ago so the house is going to be chaotic. You should be writing this down, you know.” You slowed down to notice that Morgan was just staring at you. “I just said so much stuff you need to remember.”
“I know your family. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll remember all that,” He assured you, placing a hand over your arm like you had done to him.
“Are you sure? I just..I can’t have this go wrong. Julie already suspects the legitimacy of this…fake relationship.”
He squeezes your arm and sends you one of his smiles that makes your heart swell. “We’ve got this in the bag.”
-----
You’d both decided that it’d be easiest if you came to the airport together, so you said you’d pick him up from morning practice. You were waiting in the parking garage at the arena, scrolling through your phone, until you heard footsteps. Looking up, you see Morgan, Mitch, and Willy walking towards you. You give them a shy wave, and they all return with big grins, like they knew something they didn’t. Morgan came up to you, swung an arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“Bye guys, safe travels,” He shouted over his shoulder, the two of you walking towards your vehicle. Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Morgan.
“What was that?” 
“What?”
“That forehead kiss!”
“Oh!” His smile grew a little. “I was practicing for this weekend. Was it okay?” His slight concern made your heart beat faster and you could feel heat starting to go to your face. 
“I mean, yeah, but like won’t the guys think that, you know, we’re—” 
“Believe me, the guys already think we’re together.”
“What?!”
He laughed. “They asked about my plans for the holidays and I said I was going home with you. They just assumed we were dating and it felt like a lot of work to correct them. It’s okay, I promise.”
“If you say so,” you hummed. You unlatched yourself from his arm as you approached your car but Morgan stopped in his tracks and started to laugh. 
“You’re still driving this old thing?” He was referring to your blue Honda you’d had since high school. 
“Excuse me, you named this thing and Louise is still in great shape so of course I still drive her. Now get in.” He holds up his hands in surrender. You buckled yourself in and turned the engine over. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree and the radio was uneven again, so you hit the console a few times before it started to come out of both speakers. 
“Great shape, sure.”
“Shut up.” 
-----
Despite the busyness of the Toronto Pearson International Airport during the holidays, the two of you seemed to breeze through security and boarding. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the airplane, you’d realized just how much anxiety you got from flying. 
Morgan offered to put both carry-on bags in the overhead bins and you gladly took him up the offer. You slid into your seat, immediately putting on the seatbelt and making it tight against your hips. 
“We aren’t flying just yet,” He teased, sliding into the seat next to you.
“I know, it’s just that I–nevermind, it’s silly.” You murmured with a strained smile. 
“No, what is it?” You met your eyes and you took a deep breath. This was Morgan, your Morgan. He’d seen you cry after you got root beer up your nose and he only laughed a little. 
“Airplanes give me a lot of anxiety and I hate takeoffs. It’s just really nerve wracking for me.” 
“Okay, well I’m right here. Would it help if I held your hand?” You shyly nodded, and Mo grabbed a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You tried to take deep breaths but after the safety presentation, and the plane started to taxi, it got shallower and the grip on Morgan’s hand got stronger.
“I think it's time for a distraction. Want to help me out here?” He said, turning his body towards yours as much as he could. You nodded, trying not to focus on the bouncing of the wings outside your window. 
“What kind of pet names do you like?”
That was…not what you were expecting but it certainly is a distraction. “I don’t really know? I didn’t name our dogs, Julie or my parents did. Why?” You look over to Morgan to see him quietly laughing to himself. “What?” 
“I meant like, romantic pet names. So I can play this boyfriend role right, you know?”
“Oh,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Uh, I don’t really know. My past boyfriends weren’t really into those.” You continued to take deep breaths as he pulled out his phone. 
“Okay, cool, I’ve got a list and we can just go through them?” You nodded and he started. 
“Honey?”
“We aren’t fifty years old Mo.”
“Sweetie?”
“I’m not five either,” you joked. At your attempt at humour, you say Morgan’s face lit up. 
“What about sweetheart?” Your grimace made him laugh and he moved on. “Kitten? Dear? Babe? Sugar plum?”
“You can call me babe. For the weekend, of course. I like that one.” 
“Of course, babe.” He winked. “And look, we’re in the air already. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You looked out and the clouds were level, the city skyline peeking through like a scene out of a movie. You look back at him to see him already looking at you. Unable to say everything you feel for him in that moment (platonically, you tell yourself), you squeeze his hand. 
-----
As you touched back in Vancouver (still holding Morgan’s hand for safety purposes), it started to feel real. Real you were back in the city, real Morgan was here, and real that you were supposed to be acting like you’re in love. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back. Hold my bag for me?” Morgan asked, once you’d deplaned and entered the airport. You nodded and shooed him off, finding a place in the nearest lounge to wait for him. You pulled out your phone and started to catch up on messages when someone beside you cleared their throat.
“Sorry to bother you but did you go to Prince of Wales Secondary School in Vancouver?” You turned towards the voice to see someone so familiar but couldn’t put a finger on who.
“Um, yes. How did you know that?”
“I’m Abigail Brown. I think you were my lab partner in high school chemistry?” As soon as she said it, it was like everything rushed back to you. The two of you were good friends but just fell out of touch as years went on. 
“Oh my gosh yes! Oh my gosh, hi! How have you been?” You got out of your seat to give her a hug. 
“I’ve been really good! My girlfriend and I are headed to London for the holidays.”
“Oh fun! I’ve come back for the holidays with my uh..” You trailed off, thinking of what to call this arrangement. “Morgan Reilly, do you remember him?”
“Yeah, totally. Did he come back with you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. 
“Yeah, we’re here together.”
“No way, that’s so sweet! Back in the day, everyone was wondering when you two would get together!”
“Oh, really?” You asked, surprised. You had thought that your crush on one of your closest friends was pretty discrete. 
“Yeah, a lot of us thought you’d be a cute couple. Turns out we were right,” she winked and nodded her head behind you. You turned to see Morgan coming back with two Tim Horton cups in his hands – one hot coffee for him and one Iced Capp for you. You tilted your head at his thoughtfulness. 
“My flight is boarding now, but it was so nice to see you again!” Abigail said, waving briefly to Morgan before leaving with her girlfriend. 
“Yeah, you too!” You called after her. “Is that coffee for me?” You asked, a wide smile on your face. 
“Because it is so ridiculously early, it is,” he said, placing it in your hands. “Who was that?”
“My high school lab partner. She thought we were together, actually.”
Morgan gave you a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to think?”
“I mean, I guess, but we’re really just pretending for my family, so I didn’t think she’d think we’re together.” Morgan only hummed at your response and grabbed his bag. 
“Ready to head to your parents' then?” 
Like coming home, the two of you navigated through the airport easily and were on your way to your parents house in no time. Outside of the Uber, looking up at your childhood home, you felt your nerves getting the best of you again. The warm Christmas lights and the three cars in the driveway should’ve calmed you down, but instead had the opposite effect.
“Okay, so, again, we’ve been dating for five months, you asked me out. We kept it a secret, so your parents don’t know either. Ruby is Ben’s girlfriend. Drew and–”
“–Rebekah are Julie and Charlie’s kids. Rebekah is two years old. James married Izzy and their baby, Taylor, was born last month,” He finished with a smile. “Told ya I’d remember it. It’s going to be fine, let’s just go see your family?” He held out his hand for you to take and you cautiously placed it in his. He tugged you up to the front door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to ring the doorbell. He left it over your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. 
“Trust me, we’ve got this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek but before you could process what he was playing at, your mom had opened the front door.
“Oh, it is our Morgan! Thomas, I told you it was going to be him! Oh, come in, come in,” she ushered you in and your family all appeared, saying their hellos, taking your bags up to your room, placing drinks in your hands and leading you both into the living room. You settled in beside Morgan, your thighs touching each other as he reached over to entangle your hand with his.
“So, Morgan, my daughter hasn’t told us anything yet! How long have you been together?” Your mom said, once everyone was back together and catching up with the two of you. 
“Couldn’t have been too recent if you brought him home with you,” Julie said, her skepticism showing through. 
“Can’t be too long either since she never told us about him!” James said, nudging her.
Before you could get a word in and defend yourselves, Morgan spoke up. “We started dating five months ago. Might seem a little fast to come home for Christmas but I remember your family pretty well from when I was little. Plus, the schedule lined up really nicely this year so we figured, why not? But we decided to keep it to ourselves for the first little bit, with my job and everything. It can be a really hard adjustment. Especially with the media, I didn’t want them to freak her out.” 
“Aw, how sweet of you.” 
“Who asked who out?” Ruby said, curled up next to her boyfriend. 
“She asked me.” Your heart stopped as Morgan deviated from the plan you’d created. “It was nice, though, so I didn’t have to rack up the courage to ask her the same thing.” He turned towards you, meeting your eyes. To your family, you were recounting your first date and how you’ve been in love since. But Morgan was trying to get away with changing the story and you were civilly throwing daggers at him. 
“That’s nice. But you’ve got to get dressed, we’re still going cross country skiing this afternoon.” Julie said, standing up. 
“Why?” you whined. “We’re tired from traveling.”
“Then exercise will be good for you. And it’s tradition, you can’t deprive Morgan of that.” The smile she sent you was fake and you could tell, narrowing your eyes at her. 
“Yeah, babe, don’t deprive me from family traditions,” he commented, earning a small poke to his side, but you nodded, going to find your warm clothes. 
-----
Cypress Mountain was where your family always skied on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition passed on from your grandfather, who’d done it with his father, and your family liked to keep it alive. It was a thirty minute drive, forty five in Vancouver traffic, so your head fell to Morgan’s shoulder. Soon enough, he was shaking you awake.
“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” He said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ready?”
“The better question is if you’re ready. I’ve been doing this for years,” you laughed, getting out of the car and walking towards the lodge to get Morgan skis. 
“Please, I’m an athlete. I’ll be fantastic.” He grabbed your hand and your heart started to beat faster at the cute gesture, only to notice some of your family behind you, watching the two of you. Of course, it was only for show. What else would be for? You reminded yourself. 
Twenty minutes later, and you were still watching Mo struggle to clip his skis in, trying not to laugh when he fell over. 
“‘I’m an athlete, I’ll be fantastic’” you said, mocking him and he pouted. You unclipped your own skis and held your hands out to help him get up. 
“The key is this little latch here,” you said, guiding his foot into the ski. You did the same with the other before getting yourself ready. 
“Where would I be without you?” He said, as the two of you, slowly, moved to the track. 
“Probably still be on the ground,” you said with a cheeky smile. You knocked his poles with yours. “Want to go this way? It’s easier than the track they’re doing,” you said, referring to the rest of your family. 
He looked up at the hill your family, including your little nephew, were already halfway up and shook his head. 
“If this is a family tradition, and I’m supposed to be part of your family, I should do it with them. We can join them, I’ll be okay.” 
Morgan was right, for the most part. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon enough you were both caught up to your family. He was smiling, and talking with your dad and brothers. You had time to catch up with Ruby and Charlie, who you never really saw in the family Zoom chats. 
Until you rounded the corner and saw Morgan standing to the side. You didn’t understand why until you saw what was ahead – the hills. For your family, including daredevil Drew, it was easy. But for a beginner like Morgan? You understood why he stopped. 
“If you want to turn back now, it’s okay. They’ll understand.” 
He shook his head again. “I’ve got to sell this boyfriend thing, don’t I? Just…can you go first?” You nodded and made your way down, gaining some speed before slowing down and stopping at the base to watch him. 
“You’ve got this, Mo, just do it!” You told him. He nodded at your words and came down slowly, mimicking the way you had just conquered the hill. His eyes were determined, the way you saw he was on the ice, and your smile got wider as he made it down successfully.
“Yes! You did it!”
That was, until he caught an edge and very ungracefully tumbled to the ground. 
“Well, you mostly did it. I thought you were supposed to be coordinated!” You said in a joking manner, maneuvering over to where he was trying to get up. 
“I don’t usually have these long things attached to my feet!” After his attempts, he held his hands out and you helped him stand upright again. 
“Are you okay? It looked like you fell pretty hard.” 
“My ego is bruised more than anything,” He mumbled. 
“Why? None of them saw your wipeout.” You nodded towards your family who were all ahead and had no idea of what had happened.
“But you did.”
“It’s not like you have to impress me,” You said, waving it off and starting to move along the trail. He only huffed, settling into pace beside you. 
-----
After making it back to the lodge in one piece, you all traveled back to your parent’s and sat down for a family dinner, albeit quick, as the kids’ bedtime was long ago. You helped your mom with the dishes while Morgan had “bonding time”, as he called it, with your brothers and Dad. 
“I’m glad you brought Morgan home, sweetheart,” she said, breaking through the quiet sounds of washing dishes. “He’s a catch and you seem really happy with him.”
You blushed, involuntarily, and nodded. “I am really happy when I’m with him.”
There were sounds of protests and laughter, so you peeked your head around to see Ben on the couch leaning over Morgan’s lap to ruffle James’ hair, only to get caught by Morgan in a loose headlock. Your dad was laughing at their antics and you joined him. It was nice to see Morgan be so carefree, especially with the stress of the season. 
“Hey!” Ben got your attention. “Your boyfriend is bullying me, tell him to stop!” 
“Maybe you deserved it,” You said, moving to be behind the couch. “Morgan is usually right.”
Morgan looked at you and only let Ben free once you gave me a small nod. You leaned down over the couch, wrapping your arms around his chest. At the slight display of affection, James gagged but thankfully, Izzy came down and whisked away her husband. Ben left shortly after that and you noticed Morgan’s head starting to drop. 
“Okay, we’re still on Toronto time a little bit,” You checked with Morgan, who was nodding along. “So we’re going to hit the hay, but Mom, I didn’t see the spare blankets for the pull-out couch?”
“Oh, you don’t need them, Ben has them.”
“What?” You asked, removing your hands from Morgan so he couldn’t tell how clammy they suddenly got. “Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”
“In your bed. It’ll be better for his back.” She answered. 
“Where am I going to sleep?” 
“In your bed.” She sighed when she saw the shock on your face. “Look, we trust Morgan. Besides, it’s a big bed and your dad and I aren’t under the impression you haven’t already slept together.” Her bluntness made you choke on your breath and Morgan patted your back, answering for you.
“Thank you Brenda. We'll be good, I promise.” 
“I know you will. And if you aren’t, know I’m not above telling your mother,” She said with a smirk. “Now, goodnight.” 
You both said your goodnights, and headed up to your room. Morgan shut the door behind you and you immediately started apologizing. 
“I’m sorry, I was certain she’d send one of us to the basement. She never let Charlie or Izzy sleep in the same room with my siblings until they were married,” you said, rummaging through your suitcase for pajamas. 
He waved you off and took a look around your room. It hadn’t changed much since high school, your parents leaving it unchanged for when you came back. The photos in the frames and on the walls were faded and each childhood trophy and trinket was covered in a small layer of dust – not enough for it to be untouched, but enough for it to be preserved. 
The sound of you digging through the closet for extra pillows broke him away from your walls. There were two blankets spread out on the floor and you dropped the pillows you’d found on the space above them.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed,” You answered. “You can get changed in the bathroom.”
“Why aren’t you in the bed?” 
“Because you’re sleeping on the bed, hotshot. Can you please get changed, I want to sleep.” He huffed but nodded, slipping out of the room. When he came back to see you curled up on the floor beside the queen sized bed, he let out a small sigh and moved towards you. 
“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Please come sleep on the bed?” He said, standing over top of you.
“I…I don’t want it to be weird.” You said, suddenly interested in the fraying fibres of your blanket. 
“It’s not going to be weird. I promise. Please?” You turned to see him with his puppy-dog eyes and you started to break.
“I don’t know Mo…”
��I’d feel better if you slept in the bed, babe, please? For me?” At that, you relented, nodding your head. He helped you up, gathering the blankets from the floor and laying them over you in the bed. 
He slipped in beside you, a large margin of space between the two of you. It was silent as you got comfy and you turned off your side table light. Morgan hadn’t followed your lead, so you looked over to see him looking at his side table. 
“Remember when we took this picture?” Morgan said, pointing to the only frame on the table. You didn’t even have to look at the photo to know which one he was referring to. It was the last day he spent in Vancouver before the draft and it was a few days before your graduation date. You’d taken your car to the North Shore and hiked to Lighthouse Park. The serenity of being able to see far into the ocean and see the downtown skyline was the place both of you had gone to clear your mind. You’d taken a silly selfie together but it was the one physical memento of your last time together in Vancouver. It was when you almost confessed your feelings to him. 
“Of course I do. It was a good day.”
“Do you think about it a lot?” He asked, and you turned your body to face him. 
“I mean, sometimes, yeah. Do you think about it a lot?”
He nodded, his eyes fixated on the picture. “Yeah. Reminds me of when life seemed normal.” 
You stayed silent for a few moments, watching his eyes begin to get hazy looking at the picture. “Are you okay, Mo?”  
He just nodded curtly, and turned off the light. “Goodnight.” 
You couldn’t lie and say his behaviour didn’t feel like a thousand cuts to your heart but you said goodnight before turning to face away from him, like he’d done to you. 
-----
The sun shining in from the window woke you up in the morning. You started to stir, stretching your arms and legs, but stopped when you felt arms around you. You slowly turned your head to see Morgan close to you, his arms wrapped around your waist. Sometime during the night, he must’ve moved to start cuddling you. You thought it should feel weird, being so close to your friend like this, but all you felt was a sense of calm. Being hyper aware of his arms, you shifted slightly to face him. 
You took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Not on the TV, through his hockey gear, not in the cafe when he was conscious that anyone could recognize him, but when he was just him. The sun was shining on him, giving his skin that soft golden glow. The lines on his forehead were almost nonexistent and his beard was filling out nicely. He looked so peaceful here, like he wasn’t one of Toronto’s biggest stars. You looked at him, your face softening as he started to stir under your gaze.
“Morning sleeping beauty,” you teased in a quiet voice, the same way he’d done to you yesterday. 
“Hmm, what time is it?” His voice was raspy and it took everything in yourself not to kiss him right there.
“Early,” you answered and he hummed in response. He slowly opened his eyes and must’ve noticed how close he was to you because his eyes got increasingly wider. His eyes met yours and when he didn’t see any panic or disgust in them, he relaxed, a small smile coming onto his face. 
“Morning babe,” He said, pulling you a little closer to him. 
“Nobody’s around, you don’t have to call me that.”
“What if I want to?” 
You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock and your lips parted. What did he say? It might have been a shock to your brain, but your body seemed to long for a closeness to him. Your heart wasn’t beating faster, no, it seemed to slow down, as if the idea of a relationship with him was the only thing to calm you. 
You noticed his eyes glancing down at your lips and you swallowed. Was he…what was he doing? He started to lean his head towards you and you felt yourself leaning in as well. He was close enough you could feel his breath hot on your face and see the grey flicks in his eyes. You started to close your eyes, his hand caressing your waist from under the covers, and —
“Auntie, Auntie! He came! Santa came! You have to get up! Come see!” Drew yelled through the door, pounding away as if you didn’t hear him. You broke away from Morgan, the small bubble popped by your nephew.  
“We’ll be right there Drew!” you yelled back, rubbing your forehead and getting out of bed. You left Morgan in bed, running downstairs to start some coffee, desperately needing to clear your head. What just happened? 
“Morning, sweetheart!” You sighed as your mom walked into the room, too chipper for how early it was. “I’ve got the pajamas for you and Morgan.”
“Morgan too?” It was a tradition to dress in matching pajamas on Christmas morning but you didn’t think it was something your parents would enforce for him. 
“Yup. Go get changed, I want to take photos soon.” She placed the two pajama sets in your arms and you trudged upstairs. You figured Mo was still laying in bed so you didn’t knock, just charged right in. Maybe you should’ve knocked. But then you wouldn’t get to see Morgan shirtless. Your brain short-circuited until you saw him looking back at you and you shut your eyes.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to knock! My mom wanted me to give you these. Matching pajamas and photos before gifts is a family tradition.” You tried to pull out his pair with your eyes closed but Mo just laughed when he saw you struggling. He came closer, his distinctive cologne invading your senses. He took one of the pairs, hopefully his size, from your arms.
“You can open your eyes, it’s okay.” You slowly opened one eye to test the waters, to see he was still without a shirt. You stared at him as long as it is socially acceptable to look at your best friend shirtless, before rushing out of the room to get changed yourself. 
You beat Morgan downstairs, and got started on the coffees. After buying him many hungover wake-up coffees, you knew his order by heart. You brought them out to the table, your sister and her family having their portrait taken in front of the tree. 
Mo came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and taking a whiff of your coffee. He recoiled at the hint of chocolate. 
“Yours has vanilla creamer, don’t worry,” you told him, taking a sip while watching Taylor get her first family photo in front of the tree. It was so nice to see the smiles across your family’s faces as you had this tradition. When it became Ben and Ruby’s turn, you noticed Drew starting to get a little antsy, his eyes fixated on the big box with his name on it. 
“Okay, sweetheart, yours and Morgan’s turn,” your mom said, clearing the area for you two to sit. 
“Oh, Mom, Drew’s looking a little antsy. We can skip ours–”
“No!” Mo interrupted you, taking one last sip of his coffee before tugging you along to sit in front of the tree. You gave him a look and smiled shyly. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want a picture. Please?” 
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You turned to the camera, plastering a smile on. You were pretty close to him, your legs touching and his arm around your shoulders. Near the end,  Morgan pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blushed, the sound of the camera clicking long forgotten as you stared into his eyes. 
“Auntie, can I please please open my presents from Santa now?” Drew said, once again interrupting the moment between you and Morgan.
“Of course, baby, but you have to open the ones from me and Morgan next, deal?” He shrieked and scrambled over to the boxes, ripping into his wrapping paper. You stood up, grabbing your coffee before watching your nephew and niece on Christmas morning.
“Look at how cute you two are together,” She said, tilting the camera towards you. The first one was a cute photo. Morgan had his lips pressed against your cheek and your face was scrunched up in joy. She switched it to the next one, where the two of you were looking into each other’s eyes. He had the softest, earnest smile on his face. “I swear, I haven’t seen any people so in love since Ben met Ruby. I’m so glad you brought him home.” 
“Thanks, Mom.” You put on the best fake-smile you could, and turned back to the kids, trying not to think about how they two of you did look in love. But it wasn’t real and your stomach sunk. You took a seat on the couch, talking to Rebekah about her new doll and watching Drew drive his toy cars across the coffee table. 
“Who are these from?” you dad asked, holding up some small packages wrapped in blue paper.
“Oh, those are from me sir.” Morgan spoke up from behind you, moving to sit beside you. “There should be one for everyone.” Your dad nodded and handed them out to everyone while you turned to your fake-boyfriend. 
“Mo, I told you you didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, eyeing everyone tearing into their small gifts. 
“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He winked at you, before turning to see their reactions. You were glad you’d turned too.
Everyone was holding up a different variety of a Toronto Maple Leafs keychain. Ben held one with a bottle opener on it and Drew held one that had skate on it. Some of them had the shape of Ontario with them or a special spinny part in the middle.
“You’re really banking on us liking you, eh?” Julie said, holding up her Rielly jersey keychain. 
“I’m planning on sticking around for a while. I figure you’ll be fans sooner or later,” he laughed off your sister’s hazing and assured your parents it was the least he could do. He turned to you. “And I didn’t forget you either.”
“What? No. Babe, I thought we were doing gifts back in Toronto?” If you’d known, you would’ve gotten him something, but he seemed unfazed. He brought out a medium box and placed it in your lap.  
“Are you sure? I didn’t bring anything for you,” you whispered to him. He just nodded and told you to open it. You ripped into the wrapping paper, opened the box, and tore out the tissue paper only to stop.
“You didn’t.” 
“I did,” He said, his face growing. “Bring it out, let’s see it.”
You lifted out of the box a dark wash denim jacket, the same one you’d been trying to rationalize buying for the past three months. It was your size and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the seams, tracing the buttons. 
“Check the inside,” Morgan said, leaning over your shoulder. You turned your head to see him slightly blushing, and you turned to the jacket’s inside as quickly as you could. Inside there was a small label stitched in. Upon closer inspection, you read what it said and your breath hitched. 
 You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town. Don’t forget it. Love, your Morgan
“Mo, I don’t even know what to say. This is-this is perfect. I love it, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before slipping out of the room, both empty mugs in his hands. Your heart started to beat faster again, and as you stared down at the inscription, you had to remind yourself that it didn’t mean anything special. He was acting like your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. This was all fake, and this must’ve been a part of it; a show for your family to make sure you didn’t get in trouble. 
You shoved those feelings deep inside you, instead focusing on the Christmas spirit your family had. The living room was full of laughs and someone had turned on the Christmas music. Morgan came back and sat beside you, his arm resting comfortably over the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but curl into his side. The kids came over and asked to play with Morgan and he eagerly agreed, switching from playing cars to dolls to lifting them up to play the airplane game. Like the Grinch, your heart grew three sizes watching him interact with your family – the way he was so patient and sweet with them meant everything, even if he was just pretending. 
Later, your Grams arrived and Morgan was quick to win her over as well. You bit your lip, trying to stop from smiling so wide as you watched him help her with her coat, and lead her over to where he was sitting. 
“Do you mind holding her for a few minutes?” Izzy said, coming over with Taylor in her arms.
“Of course not! Come ‘ere, darling girl.” You rocked the baby in your arms, sometimes looking over to where Morgan was. Sometimes you even catch him looking at you. You took Taylor’s little hand and waved at him, and he over-enthusiastically waved back, making you laugh. 
“You picked a good one, you know? The two of you are really adorable together.” Izzy said, coming back to take her daughter from you. 
“Thanks Iz. He’s just…” You trailed off, trying to describe the situation. “I couldn’t imagine doing all of this with anyone else.” And it was the truth. From the plane ride to skiing to the gifts this morning, you couldn’t fathom bringing back a stranger and pulling this off in the same way. 
“Sounds like you’ve found the one then.” Her comment made you choke on air and turned into a full coughing fit. Before you knew it, Morgan was beside you, his blue eyes full of concern. 
“Are you okay?” His hand was rubbing your upper back as you continued to cough. You nodded as best you could, and he turned to get his cup. When you seemed to be finished, he handed it to you. 
“Here, drink. It’s water.” You gulped down the water and sighed. 
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“I’m good, thank you. I’m just going to get my lip balm; will you be okay on your own for a while?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm. 
“It’s your family, not war,” He laughed. “Go, I’ll be fine.” 
You smiled at his comment and gave him a quick cheek peck before making your way out of the room. In the bathroom, you took a breather, trying to stop your cheeks from blushing. Whatever you were doing with Morgan, it felt real. But it wasn’t, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that before you got hurt. 
When you exited, Grams was standing outside the door. 
“Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was waiting,” you said, quickly leaving the bathroom but she waved you off. 
“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. But dear, my goodness, that Morgan. He’s a keeper, dear. You hold onto him, you hear me? With him, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She said, patting your cheek before walking past you to the bathroom. You stood in shock for a moment at her words, before taking a deep breath and moving on. 
You were just friends. 
You repeated that to yourself as you sat next to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You repeated it again when he moved your legs into his lap, caressing your ankle. You said it again when he snagged the race car, arguably the best Monopoly piece, only to give it to you, taking the lame iron for himself. 
“Hey, can I talk to you?” Julie said, tapping your shoulder, just before Monopoly (another family tradition) started. You nodded, and lifted your legs out of Mo’s lap. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following her into the kitchen. 
“What’s up?”
“I wanted to apologize.” You furrowed your brows a little bit. “You know, for thinking your relationship was fake? It was wrong for me to think your relationship wasn’t serious but…I was just trying to look out for Mom and Dad. You don’t see how worried they get when you say you don’t have anyone in that big city. You’re the youngest, they’re always going to worry. And it’s just …You never even remotely told me about anyone and I didn’t want you to be faking it, just to get them off your back. But I was wrong and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting your relationship. He’s perfect for you, and you seem really happy together.” 
It was everything you’d been wanting to hear – that even the most skeptic of your family bought your lie and was happy for Christmas. But no relief came like you thought it would; only a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks Julie, that…that means a lot. Would you excuse me please?”
You slipped out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. You paced around for a few moments, before sitting on the edge of your bed, placing your head in your hands. You’ve gotten in too deep now and it’s going to hurt everyone — yourself included — when you have a ‘breakup’. Your mom will resent Morgan, sweet sweet Morgan, and he’ll probably get chewed out by his own mother, and it’ll all be your fault. You did this to your family, to Morgan, to yourself. 
“What’s wrong?” Morgan said, leaning against your doorframe. 
“Julie thinks we’re dating. Like for real. They all do. ” At your words, he pushed off the wall and sat beside you on the bed, his hands dangerously close to touching yours. You move them into your lap before you can’t function. 
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that was the whole point of this? To make them think we’re dating?”
“No, it was. It’s just….” You trailed off, looking down at your hands. 
“It’s just what?” 
“It’s too much, okay!” You stood up and turned to face him. “Like you’re here. You’re in Vancouver again, with me again, in my parent’s house like we’re fifteen again! You can’t be around like this and expect me not to think about the road not taken! And it doesn’t seem to bother you! And I don’t like lying! I don’t need to be lying to both our families, your teammates, my friends! I don’t need to be lying to myself that I don’t enjoy this! It feels wrong. I know we lied a lot as kids, but it feels different this time. It feels like people are going to get hurt and I don’t think I was prepared for that.” 
He took a moment. “We don’t have to lie, you know.”
“What do you mean? We’re fake dating; fake indicating lies.” You crossed your arms across your chest. 
He took another moment, taking a deep breath. “We don’t have to be fake dating. We could…be dating for real.”
“What?” you whispered.
“Can I be honest here? Like really honest?” He asked, and you could only nod slightly. “I thought you would’ve got your head out of your ass by now. I thought you had feelings for me.
"Why do you think you said my name? You could’ve said any other name but you said mine. You could’ve found any other Morgan in Toronto but you asked me. You could’ve come clean to them! There were a thousand ways you could’ve gotten out of this but you didn’t! I thought that meant we had something special; that you were finding excuses to bring me here.” He sees your blank, shocked face as a sign to continue. 
“And now that we’re here? Back in our hometown? It just all rushes back to me about how I didn’t tell you how I felt. Then I spend the days doing your family traditions and seeing you so happy with Drew and Rebekah and thinking that I could’ve had this a long time ago. But I was a coward and I don’t know if I can make the same mistake again.”
“What are you talking about?” You said breathlessly. 
“When we were at Lighthouse Park that day, I almost told you I loved you. But I didn’t. And I went to Toronto and tried to forget the huge regret I’d made. I can’t- I can’t do that again. I love you. I have loved you since we were kids. I didn’t want you to be tied down when you moved out so I didn’t say anything and I tried to forget how I felt about you. But in two days, you’ve made me fall for you all over again and I can’t go back to how things were. I won’t. I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend when I am irrevocably in love with you. I want this,” He stood up and walked closer to you, his fingers reaching out for yours. “I want this to be real.” 
“Mo…holy shit.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot, I know.” He went to step back, to give you space after everything he said, but you held onto his hand tighter. 
“No, like holy shit, I was going to tell you I loved you that day too.” One of your hands traveled to rest on his cheekbone as you caressed his soft skin. “I didn’t want to give you more pressure as you started your career; that wouldn’t be fair. But some part of me has always wanted this to be real.”
“Really?” The corners of your mouth started to lift up as you nodded. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, ever the gentleman.
“Please.” And less than a second later, his mouth was on yours. Maybe it was a good thing you waited so long, because this was better than anything you could’ve imagined at eighteen. His hands found your waist, and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. 
When you finally pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Wow.” 
“You’re telling me.” You giggled at him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Guess you can tell the team we’re dating for real life now.”
He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. “For real life, eh?”
“For real life. As long as you’ll have me. ”
“Forever then, babe.” He winked, squeezing you tight. “Now let’s go join the family, yeah? Gotta beat my in-laws at Monopoly.”
His antics had you in laughter all the way down the stairs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was happiness because of him.
taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen @pulpfixion
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tvintedspvrkmoved · 5 months
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hahahah i'm losing my mind ??????
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so two very cool things are true right now which are :
- in twelve days my best girl will have existed in some form for an entire year - i'm about to be able to say there are officially HUNDREDS of you here ???? like as in the plural form ??????
neither of these things make any sense to me , but since both are true i figured it would be a good time to do what i guess is a little follow forever type thing. SO. here are some of the people who have helped emma grow and develop and also helped me grow and develop as a person and as a writer 🤍
-------------------------- ★ ---------------------------
@dalphahale : honestly a day one bc i didn't really do very much with emma until around march i think and that's around when we started writing if i'm not mistaken ?? one of the best / most show accurate dereks i've ever come across and one of the best people too !!!! you're an incredible writer and honestly a saint in human form for putting up with me ooc lmao it's an honor to bless your dms every day with the most random and chaotic messages and thoughts and only be a LITTLE bit judged for it 😂 derek and emma are one of the most adorable ships i've ever seen and derek and allison are iconic as well i just think you're the bee's knees okay you're stuck with some form of my chaos indefinitely i fear 🤷‍♀️
@stanfordprepped : jared. JARED. another og and one of my best friends in the rpc. samemma is so unbelievably iconic and i'm so amazed and proud of everything that's come from them and from us writing together and from you in general i'm SO excited about charlotte's development and about samlena and about just all of our dynamics ahhhhh you are so unbelievably strong and talented and you deserve every good thing in the entire world bc the love and respect that you hold for others even on your worst days is so admirable i can't even fathom it sometimes.
@multi-royalty : MADDIE MY BELOVED i ????? owe so much of everything i've accomplished this year to you 😭🙏 you not only pulled me back when i was debating whether or not to even continue writing , but helped to develop some of my most cherished muses and threads and plots and headcanons. you're the sweetest little bean in the entire world and i can't even begin to thank you for everything you've done for and with me and the light that you bring to this community even when you can't see it 🤍
@guiltye : bitch i'll yell FOREVER at and about you are you kidding ????? your writing gives me literal chills and the plots that we have are some of the deepest most complex and incredible dynamics i've ever been a part of. you've been through so much this year and kicked ass until you got to the other side and still managed to help ME through so much too and i'm sure so many others and i just adore you okay i live for all lilly content but especially your ooc posts bc i just think your brain is so neat and i love getting to glimpse into it sometimes you're just incredible 🥹🤍 ps thank u for letting me yell about noah kahan without abandon and getting in ur feelings about him with me lol
@boundforhale // @stilesstylelinski : obviously i had to put y'all together you can't split up the gremlins okay. i love you both so much and i actually can't even begin to describe how much you guys have helped me this year both to be a better writer and to get through so many rough patches irl. i'm still not entirely convinced that australia is real but if it DOES exist i will not rest until i can fly there and we can all meet at a central location and proceed to just implode the whole universe with the sheer chaos and buffoonery. y'all are actually family at this point i don't know what i would do without you fr
@carp3diems : LISTEN HERE BITCH bff bestie angel i love you to pieces and if you ever leave me again i'll riot !!!! you're genuinely one of the coolest people i've ever met and i love all of our dynamics so damn much but what we've created with colbemma is just so insane and incredible and i know i just screamed about this in the dms but i genuinely cannot believe they started out hating each other lmao they're truly iconic and i can't wait to see how they continue to grow and thrive and also how YOU continue to grow and thrive
@redhoodiskra : A. you are an actual ray of sunshine and so incredibly talented and WAY TOO HARD ON YOURSELF and completely amazing and fantastic and i just love you a lot !!!! stiles and emma and the little family they've created make my heart so happy and so do all of our other dynamics !!!! we haven't written much on @westwingsolo yet and we absolutely should change that bc i'm in awe of you and your writing and the creativity you bring to your muses they're both so special and you can 100% see the love you've put into both.
i wish i could write everyone a little message but here are some more lovelies that you should absolutely go follow !!!! a lot of them have other pages with more incredible muses as well 🤍
@fuckmeupindie , @hellgiven , @gunchamber , @ofcrxwns , @escapedfromthevoiid , @ruinedmyself , @goldenboybarracuda , @delicatestm , @sarcasticsnackpack , @fidelissimi , @ofblackskies , @ratkiing , @snnydcys , @flamefallen , @impurc , @clockturned , @r4chelamber , @unbearablyindifferent , @mystictragedies , @conradfish3r , @jimh9334 , @jchnwinchester , @qapsiel , @thornstocutyouwith , @unitcd , @surgcns , @localsalt , @mecwmellc
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pocketsizedpanther · 6 months
Note
PART 3/?
NEW CHARACTER(S):
Dezzy (Destiny) - Youtuber/ Fashion Influencer
I was listening to ‘ AMBRÉ’S INTERLUDE by DESTINE CONRAD ft AMBRÉ’ while writing this. 10/10😩
Imma give the writers out there y'all props cause THIS WRITING SHIT AIN’T FOR THE WEAK.🙅🏽‍♀️
I had so many revelations while writing this cause wtf….but anyway let's go.
(imagine Paris doesn't have the bedbug issue and that Jojo is turning 30).
✄╰U╯
It was around 4 a.m. when you arrived at your penthouse. After taking a shower you decided to drink a cup of tea and watch ‘Queen Sugar’ for the umpteenth time, to get your mind off of tonight. As the tea brews you walk over to your floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Bsf/n’s family built some nice shit, I’ll tell you that” you murmur.
Bfs/n was an heiress and owned multiple properties across the U.S., Europe, and South Africa. The property at which you reside had a beautiful Riverside view of the Thames. Softly exhaling, you do a double take at the box on the floor in the corner. It was the last box you needed to unpack and you’d been dreading it for the past week.
You walked over, kneeling in front of the box. As badly as you wanted to stuff it in the back of the closet and forget about it, you opened it. There was a photo book that contained digitals of your life since college. Skimming through it, you came across a picture of Tish eating pizza with sauce all over her face. “That girl know she love her some damn pizza” you uttered. Turning the page there was another one of her smiling while you kissed her cheek at the beach in Cape Town. Times were great back then….everything felt….right.
✄╰U╯
Taking a sip of tea and closing your eyes as the warmth glides down your throat, you decide to roll up. You were on the scene where Nova tells Chantal how happy she made her when your phone rang. “Ughh!! They were endgame.” It was bsf/n.
“Hey boo, just making sure you made it home safe.”
“Yeah, I’m good! just got in about an hour ago”, flicking the lighter.
“Bitch are you sparkin’ up right now!? Without me?!?”
“Nooo…..yes.”
“Y/N!”
“It's just a lil’ lavender and rose, you don't like herbs in ya spliff.” Taking a puff.
“Mhm. Anyway, I was thinking that since Dom is flying out tomorrow we could all go to brunch. I already called Dezzy and Maze, they said they’re down.”
“Girl don’t we all got a flight to catch!?”
“Yeah, that’s why I figured we could just use one of the jets. Then fly to New York right after Paris.”
“One of?” eyebrows furrowing.
“Yes. One of Y/N,” Bsf/n laughs.
“Ohh! Well… shit sometimes I forget you Oprah rich.”
Both of you laugh, and you start to choke.
“You know what, lemme get off this damn phone before you fuck around and cross over.”
Giggling and holding your chest. “Alright see you tomorrow. Love you, goodnight.”
“Love you too, goodnight.”
✄╰U╯
Rubbing in body oil and fixing your waist beads. You decided to wear baggy jeans, a fitted ribbed tank top, and Rick Owens. Turning your back towards the mirror, you raise your brows. “Oh! she’s sitting!” While doing a once over in the mirror you receive a text from Bsf/n.
“The car is downstairs. Bring your bags to the lobby.”
You text back, “Okay.”
Grabbing your hoodie off the couch, you check to make sure you have everything.
“Bags check, phone check, purse, keys, and supplements check.”
“I’m missing somethin’,” you murmur and look around.
“Ahhh! My camera.” Grabbing it off the table.
You’d already brought the baggage carrier up and loaded your luggage onto it. Pulling the carrier out the door and entering the elevator, you hear a man yelling.
“Can you hold the door please?!?”
Being the good samaritan you are. You hold the door and give a closed-lip smile as he walks in.
He returns it as the door closes but does a double take. “What floor?” you hover your fingers over the buttons. Getting no response, you look at him. Eyes wide and almost speechless he says, “Wait. Are you Y/N L/N?!!”
“Y-Yes—.”
“Oh my god! Girl I saw you in the lobby last night and thought I was trippin’. You must be heading to Paris for fashion week, you’ve been eating the looks down!!, he says smiling.
“Aww, thanks truly! you say returning a smile.
He went on a rant about other celebrities’s fashion looks while you zoned out and watched the numbers count down.
“Is it okay if I get a picture?”
The elevator dings, opening the doors. The driver Leo was standing there waiting to take your luggage.
“ As much as I would love to I have a flight to catch, I'm sorry.” Hurrying out of the elevator, you wave bye.
Leo opens the door for you before loading the luggage and Dezzy hugs you immediately.
“It’s so good to see you!!, “ she says rubbing your back.
“Same to you! How ya been?! How was Egypt?”
“Ugh. I’m so glad I listened to you, it was amazing!!”
You nod smiling, grabbing lip liner and a hand mirror out of your purse.
“The food, the people, and Aswan! There’s so much history there! We all need to take a trip back there.”
“Definitely!”
Watching you put on your brown lipliner, she smirks.
“But enough about me. Let’s talk about you and Jojo.”
“Me and Jojo?” putting on lipgloss.
Leo starts the car up.
“You ladies alright back there? Need any air turned on? Windows let down?”
“No we’re good thank you!” in unison.
“Yeah, you and Jojo. Last night on Dom's story.”
“Oh! Girl we were just dancing.”
“JUST DANCING!? The way she was singing to you! You're a boss I wanna treat you.”
“Dez.”
“I know you tired of all the leeches.”
“Dezzy.”
“Girl I'm in love with all your features.
And I will love you til your knees weak-.”
“DESTINY!”
You both laugh. “Okay, I quit.”
✄╰U╯
Your assistant Zion and Bsf/n’s assistant were already on the jet when you all arrived. Reading a book and then falling asleep was the only thing on your. After loading the jet and taking off, you grabbed your blanket and headphones to start reading.
“So when were you gonna tell me about you and Tish,” Bsf/n asks smirking.
Scratching your brow and not looking up from your book you respond. “What do you mean?”
“Y’all sneaking away last night.”
“How did you-? MAZE!”
“All I said was that Fidji went around asking people if they had seen Tish.” She raises her hands. “Nothing more.”
“Right! Had Yazmine and Jojo stressed tryna stop her from searching. They all laughed.
Where were y'all anyway?” Bsf/n inquired.
Clearing your throat. “Um. Your office.”
“Excuse me what?”
“Your office.”
It went silent.
“My office. Doing what?” she blinked.
You closed your book slowly and smiled nervously.
“She kinda….went down on me-… but it was against the door!”
“Against the door!?! Like that makes it any better. Was it at least good?”
“It was great. Amazing even,” putting your hands over your eyes and exhaling. “But it was ……a mistake.
✄╰U╯
It was the last day of fashion week and Jojo’s birthday was tomorrow. Since Maze has to fly back to London after the show and Dezzy flies to Johannesburg tomorrow night, you guys went clubbing. The four of you were worn out but had so much fun. Today's show was for Alexander McQueen, the show at which you hoped to successfully avoid Tish once again.
Leo opens your door, legs glisten in the sunlight as you step out. Zion opened the door for Maze and helped her out. You’d chosen a red off-shoulder ruffle dress with gold open-toe heels. Maze chose a black long-sleeved ruffled maxi dress that showcased her curves and black heels. You waved, signed autographs, and took pictures with supporters.
Zion ushered you to let the photographers take your pictures, while Maze waits at the entrance with Bsf/n and Dezzy. As you were doing a ‘look over your shoulder ‘ pose, Tish’s car pulled up. Once she gets out both of you immediately make eye contact with each other and you look back at the camera taking the last shot.
A short white woman greets you and directs you to your seats. You and bsf/n were placed side by side in the first row while Maze, Zion, and Dezzy were placed behind you.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” says Bsf/n.
You nodded and went to greet some familiar faces. Waking back to your seat, you overhear Jojo arguing with someone.
“You can’t come back around here smiling like everything’s nice and dandy. All you had to do was pick up the phone and call! But I’m not surprised, since all you do is ghost your friends over any nigga that shows you the slightest bit of attention!”
It was Eva…
“Jojo…I’m sor-.”
“Sorry? You're sorry? I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to,” Jojo clenches her teeth.
“It was complicated,” says Eva.
Jojo’s laugh is humorless.
“You played in her face for 5 months, knowing that she was feeling you! And don’t act like you didn’t know. The flowers, trips, the fucking parties, and events.”
Eva looks down, biting her lip. There was silence as Jojo rubbed her forehead.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine.”
“Look. I admit I screwed up alright! It..it’s just things got confusing……and the lines got blurred.“
The lights dimmed and you hurried back to your seat. It wasn’t until after five models came out that Bsf/n tapped your hand, whispering.
“A-Am I trippin’ or is that Tamara sitting two seats from Tish?”
As you look towards that direction, Tamara smiles and waves. You return the jester.
“Nah you definitely seeing what you seeing.”
✄╰U╯
The show wraps and everyone disperses. “I’m heading to the bathroom,” says Fidji.
“Alright,” Tish sits down and waits.
She looks around hoping to spot you in the crowd. You were leaning on the wall talking to Jojo and Dezzy. She couldn’t help but smile seeing how beautiful you looked. Last night she’d been pacing in her suite trying to decide whether or not to go up to your room. There were so many things running through her mind.
‘Would she listen to me?’
‘What if she doesn’t feel the same anymore?’
Meanwhile….
Eva is washing her hands as Fidji comes out of the stall.
“Rekindling old bonds must be tough huh?,” Fidji washes her hands.
Drying her hands Eva looks up at her in the mirror.
“Excuse me do I know you?”
“No. But your cousin does considering she had a lot to say in my DM’s.” Fidji fixes her hair.
Eva looks at her perplexed.
“You must be Fidji.”
“That is I, she is me,” Fidji says while smirking.
“Well, you must know whatever you and Tish have going on isn’t gonna last very long. You see Tish is a lover girl. She wants someone to love up under and be their shadow.”
“Is that a threat?”
She smirks. “Oh of course not hun. You just need to worry when she goes looking for it in her special place,” she grabs her purse and walks out the door.
Meanwhile….
A few seconds later she hears a smooth voice.
“She seems nice.”
Tish looks up and sees Tamara sitting next to her.
“Uh.. y-yeah she’s cool. How are you?”
“I'm good! Currently working on a new project so there’s that. How bout you?
“So far so good. Just tryna have some fun before getting back in the field.” Tish turns her head forward.
Tamara’s eyes bored into the side of Tish’s face, taking in the sight of her jawline, lips, and nose.
“ For what it’s worth, I miss what we had.”
“Tam. Don’t do this,” Tish sighed.
“We had something. Something meaningful. And….you can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”
“Remember how we agreed to not catch feelings? We were just two lonely people, in an apartment.”
Tamara nods slowly and looks toward Jojo and Fidji as they walk over.
“So, you gonna introduce us to your friend?,” Fidji rubs Tish's shoulder.
“Tamara these are my friends Fidji and Jojo.”
Tamara shakes their hands and smiles.
“It’s nice to finally meet you! Your performance in ‘Silent Twins’ was phenomenal!,” says Fidji.
“Thank you so much! Well, you all have a wonderful time in Paris!”
“You too!”
They all nod as she walks away.
“Ms. Wright, the cars are here if you’re ready,” says Yazmin.
“Good! I’m hungry as hell and I got reservations to make,” says Jojo.
They all laugh and head to the car.
✄╰U╯
You were getting ready to head to the rooftop for Jojo’s birthday dinner when you heard a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” you yell walking through the suite.
“Une grosse salope de Tottenham.”( A big booty bitch from Tottenham).
You laugh and open the door.
“Really Dezzy? You better stop before they put you out.”
“Bsf/n owns the hotel.”
“Exactly.”
You both laugh and step out, walking to the elevator.
“Ouuu, You look cute!”
“You know luh calm fit, nothin’ too extravagant,” you say spinning around.
You wore a leather halter cropped vest with leather trousers and pointed-toe heeled boots. A black and gold Van Cleef rested right between your breasts, along with an arm cuff and matching bracelet.
“Tryna look cute for the birthday girl I see,” she says tapping your butt.
“Like I said before-.” You step into the elevator and press the floor to the rooftop restaurant.
“You’re just friends. I know. I know, but leave your options open since Dr. Wright wants to act up.”
You side-eye her.
“Jojo wouldn’t do anything like, they’re tight,” you fix the bow on her gift.
The doors to the elevator open and you step out.
“Girl, please! She practically wanted to slurp you up. I will love you til your knees weak-.”
Dezzy is walking behind you singing.
“It could be simple but it ain't easy.”
“I know you know what's up.”
As you get closer to the table you murmur, “ Dezzy!”
The restaurant was practically empty, as Bsf/n had closed it down for the next few hours.
“DIRTY THIRTY!!,” you say hitting a little shimmy and hugging Jojo. Everyone laughs.
She smiles, hugging you back.
“Happy Birthday!!,” Dezzy hugs Jojo.
You hand her the gift then sit next to Bsf/n and across from Jojo.
As drinks were brought out, Tish walked in and hugged Jojo.
“Where’s Fidji?” says Jojo.
“She left something in her room.”
She greets everyone else and sits next to Jojo. Fidji walks over and greets everyone. You couldn’t help but notice how her skirt was backward as she proceeded to sit next to Tish.
Leaning back and taking a sip of ‘2019 Chateau Haut-Brion’, you make eye contact with Bsf/n. She pursed her lips and brought a glass to her lips.
“She left something huh,” she murmured.
It had been around an hour into dinner when the cake was brought out. Jojo already opened her gifts and a hotel employee took them up to her room. ‘AMBRÉ’S INTERLUDE by DESTINE CONRAD ft AMBRÉ’ plays lowly throughout the restaurant. Everyone sang happy birthday and gave their toast.
Throughout the whole hour, Tish had been making constant eye contact with you. You could've sworn you felt her foot rub your leg at one point.
“Well I hate to leave but I have a flight to catch in 2 hours,” Dezzy pouts and kisses Jojo on the cheek. She hugs everyone before embracing you and whispering.
“Bless your boo with a gift tonight.”
You hit her playfully and squint.
“Imma get you the next time I see you. Watch, just watch.”
“Yeah, yeah we’ll see,” she turns and walks towards the elevator.
“TEXT ME WHEN YOU LAND!!”
“YES, MOM!”
Everybody laughs.
“Yeah, Imma head up. I have another show in the morning.” She hugs Jojo. Fidji rubs Tish’s leg as she stands up.
“Alright, Goodnight!,” you say in Unison.
She grabs her jacket and walks towards the elevator.
✄╰U╯
After around thirty minutes everyone decided to call it a night. You and Bsf/n were last to leave the table. As you stood up to grab your purse, you noticed Tish left her phone. Turning it over you seen her lock screen was a picture of you both covered in snow as she kissed your forehead. The picture was taken last year after the ‘Wakanda Forever’ press tour. She’d flown back in from Jamaica and wanted to see you before she left. The corner of your mouth perked up. You walk into the elevator and Bsf/n presses your floor.
“Whose is that?”
“Tish.”
“You want me to take it up for you?”
“Nah, I got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
The elevator opens to her floor and she gets out.
“Okay, well goodnight and text me once you made it in.” She hugs and kisses you on the cheek.
The doors close and you press Tish’s floor.
Exhaling hard, you step off and walk towards her suite. The hallway felt as though it was getting longer the further you walked. “You got this.”
Knocking on her door you whispered to yourself. “Just drop it off and go, drop it and-……. go.”
Fidji opens the door and your voice drops an octave.
“Oh! Hi. I just wanted to drop this off,” you hold up the phone. “She left it on the table.”
Tish walks behind her and opens the door fully. You acknowledge that both their clothes are still intact and give a closed-lip smile.
“Yeah, j-just dropping this off,” you hand her the phone.
“Thanks!,” she says grinning.
Both of you stand there for a second, looking at each other.
“Um. Well goodnight,” you wave and start walking towards the elevator.
The words “goodnight” fade as you walk away.
As you’re unlocking your door Jojo steps out of her room.
“Thanks for tonight.”
Her voice startles you.
“Girl you don’t sneak up on black folk like that!” eyes wide grabbing your chest.
“I’m sorry.”
You both laughed.
“You good and I’m glad you enjoyed yourself!”
‘Sinnerman by Nina Simone’ plays on TV in her suite.
“Wait a minute! Are you watching ‘Lovecraft Country’?”
“Sinnerman where ya gonna run to?”
“Maybe. Wanna join me?” she asks smiling.
“Hmmm.” You squint and put your finger on your chin.
“Can we have popcorn?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we got a deal. Lemme go change and I’ll be right over.”
“Okay.”
You were both sitting on the couch in your pajamas with a bowl of popcorn separating you from one another. You were on episode three where Letty called on the ancestors inside the basement.
“This scene brings me to tears every time. It was so freaking powerful!” you say as your eyes are glued to the screen.
“Plus the gospel music. Gives me the chills. Damn, I wish they hadn’t canceled this show,” says Jojo.
“Right! It was just too real for people and they couldn’t take it,” you grab a handful of popcorn.
She stares at you for a minute as you keep looking at the screen.
Smirking she says, “We should do this more often.”
You look at her and smile.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll like that.”
Chile.......
I'm tired
32 notes · View notes
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we can have tomarrymort stories where harry is not a potter, not the bwl and not abused to make him a martyr for dumbledore’s cause and people lap it up and sing praises for good writing but then if you have a tomarrymort story where harry isn’t obsessed with sports, a girl who used him as a emotional crutch to deal her bfs murder, a girl who dated half the boys he knows to get his attention or desserts then you’re forcing an oc on the tomarrymort fandom and you need to get a grip and be honest or leave.
i don’t like fandom sometimes.
Funny thing, is how Harry is often raised different in those not-a-Potter Harrymort fics and tends to not be interested in Quidditch OR Cho, but no one is attacking those writers for leaving those things out.
What’s so different when a goal-oriented Harry – who only changed because of one or two major events in his early youth – doesn’t care much about a sport(that he was forced into and never told he had the option of saying ‘No’ or quitting in canon) and that makes him ‘too OOC’ but it’s acceptable for a Harry who has anyone else as a biological father and grows up in a different house with different expectations entirely, to not be into Quidditch? To not date Cho Chang or even be interested in her?
Why are things like a sport, a food, and girl he crushed on for a few months, considered the things that make him Harry Potter? Why is it wrong to not make those important to his character in every damn fic? How does taking away being a Seeker, dating Cho, and eating Treacle Tart change who Harry Potter is? What do they really bring to the table?
Why do the things that actually make him Harry Potter, not have to actually appear in a fic for him to still be considered 'In-Character'?
Such as:
Being related to the people who thrice-defied Voldy.
Being prophesied to defeat Voldy.
Being attacked by Voldy because of it and ending up surviving the AK, getting a famous scar, and acquiring a shard of Voldy’s soul in the process.
Being taken away from his legal guardian and shoved onto abusive people that made sure he grew with the mentality that he wasn’t worth shit and that dying for the ‘greater good’ if an old man claims it’s necessary, is okay.
The things that dog his every step and control his future without him knowing it or being able to control it, are the things that shape him as a character.
But nooooooo. If he’s not Ron Weasley-level obsessed with Quidditch(which he never was tbh), salivating over Cho Chang, or mentioning Treacle Tart every chapter, he’s OOC.
Some of y'all just want canon!Harry and that's fine, but stop attacking people just cuz they want to focus on unique parts of Harry to tell the story they've come up with. And dear Christ on a cracker, if he is a totally different person by age 11, based on different experiences, him not playing Quidditch isn't going to make the world end nor make him any less Harry Potter and you're dumb if you say otherwise.
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