Request: imagine sero tying you up with his tape and teasing you? 👀
Word count: 1,150
Warnings: waxing, pain play, fingering, cold play, restraints, kind of quirk usage, dick at the end; as a treat.
Authors note: LMAO I did not expect it to turn out like this. I’ve never written Sero before so I hope I did him proud.
Tagging: @whats-her-quirk , @joyousandverywarlike , @elektraeriseros . @mindninjax
AGED UP AS ALWAYS.
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This is not what you meant when you said you needed a wax.
Sero wraps the tape tightly around your legs, bound together from your ankles to just under your knees. You couldn’t wiggle or move them at all, the perspiration from the heat of your skin doing nothing to loosen the glue. Your wrists are wrapped behind your back, back arching to showcase your breasts for Sero Hanta’s easy access. He stands in front of you, chest bare, boxers low with his hands on his hips as he admires his handiwork.
There were two pieces of white tape on each nipple, a third over your pussy mound and a fourth over your mouth, effectively keeping your moans and whimpers to a mumble. You’re suspended, safely held by ropes around your waist, across your ribcage and up past your head to the ceiling.
He moves slowly, teasingly, his smile wide yet lazy. He drags his fingers up the side of your thigh, caressing the soft skin, and your breath comes out hot against your upper lip from your nose. Your safe word is three quick screams, from behind your gagged lips, or three stomps of your feet.
Sero kneels in front of you, large hands sliding down the front of your body, resting by your ankles and the edge of his tape. He begins to pull. The tape peels from your skin, some hairs plucking with it, inch by inch, and you writhe from the pain. It’s so minuscule, so slow, that it’s over before it even begins. It trickles up your legs and body in a spiral as he unravels his quirk, removing it from your body. You’re moaning, tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes, and where it stings, there’s an ice cube instantly cooling your flesh, then lips kiss you, making its way up until the sensitive skin of the back of your knees. When all the tape is off, and your legs are free, Sero massages up, dotting kisses and licks, mumbling about how brave you are, how sweet, how beautiful and strong. He stops when he’s risen up, his face directly in line with your sex, and you stare down at him as he looks up at you with cheeky half-lidded eyes, placing a light, barely touching kiss to the strip of tape as he stands.
Before you register what’s next, a tape rips itself from your right nipple, the burn scorching and you cry out, a warm palm with cool fingers applying pressure to the waxed area, massaging as lips kiss down the length of your neck, whispering soothing words into your ear.
“You okay, princess?” the words caress your heated flesh, pain on the surface but pleasure buried so deep inside it leaks through your pores. You nod, knowing he expects an answer, and those iced finger tips feel between your legs at your sopping core, making you moan and the tape vibrates against your lips. “Good girl, you’re drenched.”
A finger presses inside, making your eyes flutter at the intrusion, and as it pumps, the tape on your left nipple tears away, and you cry out, squeezing your walls around Sero’s finger, dragging him deeper inside. He chuckles, pulling out until just the tip of his index finger touches you, before inserting a second finger. The stretch his delicious, much thicker than your own fingers, and moving at an angle you never reach with your own wrist. It’s bliss, and you’re so overstimulated on the surface that your insides hum with electricity. You need more.
A needy whine escapes from your chest and your head falls back; it’s an invitation that Sero gladly accepts as his lips leave bruising marks against the supple skin of your neck. Right when you think you’re breathing levels and his lips feel like home, he pinches the side of your waist, making you jolt and squeak in surprise. It illicits a rumble from deep inside him, his smile widening beneath glinting eyes. You hum out his name, the syllables oddly sounding like both “Hanta” and “Daddy” at the same time.
“Mmm, tape on your nipples is fine, but a little tweak is not? Okay, babygirl, noted,” he says, the hand dancing down your side and wrapping around to grab a palmful of your ass. The heat on your cheeks is ferocious as you blush, shaking your head in response, neither meaning yes or no, just movements from the growing ache in your core.
Your walls are pulsing around his fingers, willing him to move faster, deeper, but he smirks as he curls them up. The hand on your ass moves forward to thumb your clit, rolling the nerves together and you fall limp, hips gyrating to find any kind of friction. You don’t even notice the edges of the tape curl up, and when the pressure from your clit disappears, the palm of his hand keeps your skin taught while the tape is pulled up and away.
The room is filled with your shriek, and you’re sure the window cracked. Your tears roll freely down your cheeks. Oh GOD, that hurt! The fingers in you slip out and in an instant an ice cube from the bowl on the floor is against your mound, cooling down the skin. You glare at your boyfriend, trying to sniffle up fluids from your nose, your leg bouncing impatiently against the thrum of pain between your legs. Still, you don’t use the safety movement, and Sero is quick to soothe you, applying pressure against your inflamed skin while he holds up the tape in front of your face.
“Look at that hair, princess, cleanly ripped with the root,” and it is, the pubic hair bulbs dark against the stark white of his tape, extremely satisfying to see as the strip moves in a wave. “But look at what a mess your face is.” He tuts as the tape is folded between his hands. His thumbs swipe at your tears and the snot is wiped away with the clean portion of the strip. You mumble against your closed lips, feeling incredibly aroused as the pain subsides to pleasure, the build up of your almost orgasm lingering in the pit of your belly. You’re finding it incredibly hard to stay still, aching to feel his touch again.
Sero notices you’re trying to speak, and the tape around your mouth is tugged off, saliva dripping down your chin as it mixes with remaining tears.
“I swear to God, Hanta, you need to fuck me right now,” you threaten slightly, voice desperate but stern, the way you know he responds to. He loves it when you can’t wait to feel him inside you.
“As you wish, princess,” he grins, sliding out of his black boxers and fisting his cock with a few pumps before it nestles between your sopping folds, the tip just barely pressing inside and you groan at how warm he is, how hard he feels. Fuck, who knew waxing was such a turn on.
