#the way her legs bend makes them look like feet here

[ssecond-hand-faith]

Luke 1:19

#angel hare #Angel Gabby #digital art #fanart #angel hare fanart #the way her legs bend makes them look like feet here #tosses art at you and disappears for another 2 months #<3

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Eleven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst. Welcome home.

“Knock knock.”

“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.

“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.

“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine. 

“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”

“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”

“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.

“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.

“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”

“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.

“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”

“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.

You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.

And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.

You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.

Here goes nothing. 

Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.

“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”

“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.

“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“

“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.

“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.

It frightens you.

“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.

“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.

He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine. 

You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this. 

You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding? 

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.

“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.

Get it together. You have to get it together. 

You close your eyes.

Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe. 

It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.  

“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.

“Ye should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.

But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.

Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.

“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.

“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”

“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.

“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”

His eyes light. Simon laughs.

You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.

“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.

“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.

“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.

You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.

They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.

Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.

They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.

It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-

Was all for nothing.

“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.

“Nowhere.”  

A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.

It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.

Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.

Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged. 

The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.

It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.

It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.

It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.

“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.

You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.

“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions. 

He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”

“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.

“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“

“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.

You can’t. You shouldn’t. 

Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.

Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.

“It… it’s not safe.”

“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.

They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid. 

“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.

“I- I don’t know.”

“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”

“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”

“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”

“Oh my god, that’s great!”

“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.

He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.

“Dr. Fitch.”

“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.

A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.  

I’m here, it says. You’re safe.

“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”

“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.

“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.

Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.

“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. 

Fuck.  

“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.

He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.

“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.

“Okay, fine.”

Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.

You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.

“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.

You can’t do this. 

If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.

You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.

The pieces of you, changed permanently.

It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.

You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.

It’s easier to run.

You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display. 

You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.

The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.

It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.

But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.

Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.

The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.

There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.

Is it time to go? 

You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.

“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”

When you can’t, he follows your gaze.

The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.

Gone. 

“I have to go.” You whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

He doesn’t understand your meaning. 

Or maybe he does. 

Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.

Home. 

He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.

Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.

The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.

You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not. 

The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day. 

Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not. 

When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you. 

There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you. 

You didn't make it. 

All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you. 

The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood. 

I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?

The house is vibrant today.

Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.

He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.

Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.

He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.

You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.

Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.

Guilt burns like a wildfire.

This should be a happy time. A wonderful time. 

But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.  

Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.

Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that. 

“No, I’m… okay.”

“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.

“Want to watch something while we wait?”

“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap. 

“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.

Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.

It latches onto his.

“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. 

He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hear Johnny before you see him.

There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.

“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.

“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.

“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.

An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.

They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.  

The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.

Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.

The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.

“You too, bunny.”

Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss. 

He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over. 

Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.

“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.

“I’d probably be dead, mate.”

“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison. 

There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.

What are you doing here? 

The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.

The buzzing gets louder.

You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.

The girl in the mirror approves.

What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family? 

You’re an intruder. 

You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake. 

Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.

You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.

You’re selfish.

Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.

You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that. 

And why should you be? 

You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.

“Ye alright?”

“Bun?”

“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.

The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?

You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.

God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed. 

The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.

At least when you sleep, you can’t think.

At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.

“Philip, please.” 

“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone. 

“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.” 

“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?” 

“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!” 

“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom. 

Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards. 

The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it. 

“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you. 

“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks. 

His foot rears back. 

The world goes cold. 

“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!” 

You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased. 

Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes. 

“You’re what?”

You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.

It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe. 

You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.

It’s okay. 

You can do this. Get it together. 

Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.

You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.

You would die before that happened.

Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.

You could… 

No. 

The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.

You eye the door.

You could… 

Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?

You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.

It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.

He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.

“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.

“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.

It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader

[the-californicationist]

he washes your hair

Injured in the line of duty, you can't even manage to wash your own hair. Captain John Price decides to help you out.

MDNI/18+

TW: hurt/comfort, injury

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50663425

The medics did the best they could to patch you up, but the damage was extensive. The terrorist’s pipe bomb had exploded against your back, slamming shrapnel into your arms and shoulders, tearing your flesh and breaking your left collarbone. The doctor had tried to put your arm in a sling, but you couldn’t raise either arm above the midpoint. As you dragged your body back to your quarters, you did your best to get undressed, but you were now stuck, sitting on the floor, crying a bit from the pain and frustration of your injuries. 

There was no one to help you. You were stuck out here with the task force, but Soap and Ghost were still deep in enemy territory on recon. Gaz had gone with Laswell to find the weapons shipment that she’d promised you, and the only one left in the makeshift house-turned-base was Captain Price. 

You told yourself you’d do the same thing for him if the tables were turned, but it didn’t lessen the shame at all. You called his cell, 

“Cap?”

“Sparrow? What’s wrong?”

You never called him like this. Not at this hour. But, knowing you were injured, he picked right up. His voice was full of concern. You could picture his blue eyes shining with his worry. 

“Nothing…” you paused, “Well, I…”

“Gonna die of old age before you tell me, soldier.”

You smiled, biting the bullet,

“Cap, I need your help. I’m stuck in here. Can’t move my arms.”

“On my way,” he hung up. 

You waited, listening for his heavy footsteps. Eventually, you heard him in the hall. He knocked on your door.

“Come in,” you said, turning your eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, full of shame. 

You were sitting there, in nothing but the shirt stuck around your arm and a pair of panties. You’d been successful with the rest of your outfit, proud of yourself for using a coat hanger to take off your bra from the back clip, but now you were trapped, unable to move even a little without being in excruciating pain.

“Poor little bird. Broke your wing, hm?” Price smiled down at you, his tone so different than his usual sarcasm.

“I must look pretty pitiful for you to be so sweet about it,” you rolled your eyes, “Go on, have a laugh. I’m a muppet who trapped herself in her own shirt.”

He didn’t say anything. Price walked over to you carefully, bending down so he could reach you, his hulking body darkening your vision, casting his huge shadow over you, almost protectively. He snaked his hand under the collar of your shirt and guided it up and over your head, careful not to disturb your bandages. 

Shirtless, now, and in just your underwear, you moved to cover your breasts, wincing as you made the attempt, your shoulder angry at the bent angle. 

“It’s alright, birdie. Let’s get you up,” he set your arm back into its neutral position and guided you to your feet. 

“I’m so sorry you had to come,” you whispered, shameful to the point of pain. 

Price guided you to the bathroom, his strength making you feel weightless. You were dizzy from it. His warm body felt like a salve on your wounds. 

He didn’t ask for permission when he stripped off your panties, kneeling to pull them off of your legs, letting you step gingerly out of them, one by one. You steadied yourself on his huge shoulders, the agony too high for you to complain any longer. Your breath caught in your chest when a sharp spike of hot pain shot through your chest. 

“Ah! Christ,” you gritted your teeth. 

Blue eyes looked up at you from below, looking like a man in prayer, looking up for his gods, for a sign. 

“Alright, Spar? Here, sit. Sit down,” he guided you to the side of the shower-tub combo, placing you between the open plexiglass doors. 

“Captain, I…” you tried to make your excuses again. 

“Shh,” he wiped some of your dried blood off of your cheek, and furrowed his brow at you, “No more of that. That’s an order, Corporal.” 

“Yes, sir,” you grimaced, trying to turn on the water. 

“Stop, birdie. Let me help you.” 

You were too tired to fight him. He turned on the water for you, and he started to remove your bandages. Your wounds needed to be cleaned and the bandages replaced. You weren’t sure how the medics expected you to do that by yourself. You thought the captain might be willing to stay, so you tried to be good, tried not to be a burden to him. 

“You know,” he commented as he waited for the water to warm up, reaching for clean towels, “Laswell called. She said you saved those two girls, the ones in the upstairs room.”

There had been a mess of civilians on this last mission, and you had blocked the bomb with your body, trying to shield them from the blast. 

“They made it through?” You wanted to be sure.

He nodded, smiling,

“Sure did, little bird. You did good. Made us proud,” then, he corrected himself, staring at you with fiery intent, “Me. Made me proud.” 

You smiled back, 

“Thanks, Captain.”

“C’mon, let’s get you clean,” he took off his shirt and you gaped in awe. 

His body was huge in the small bathroom, enormous shoulders bulging off of his heavy frame, and his core was thick but the top of his abs were sticking out, suggesting a well-fed but strong man. He was covered in dense hair, laying straight and flat against his skin, unshaven and untrimmed. No one to trim it for, you supposed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, shocked by his undressing.

Price unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as it dangled, and started to take off his pants, using his toes to pry off his boots from the heel,

“Can’t wash yourself, and I can’t reach you from out here. Gonna jump in and help you,” he paused, looking at you carefully, “That alright, birdie?”

Your nickname was your favorite thing you’d ever gotten from him. When he used it, in his thick accent, it made your heart race. 

You nodded, resigning yourself to be as professional as you could, averting your eyes.

He chuckled, rich and deep,

“Might as well have a butcher’s now, love. Gonna be up close and personal.”

You looked at him then, accepting his challenge. But, as your eyes raked over his nude form, you saw his skin flush pink, a little more self-conscious than he let on. 

“I know, I know. Old dog like me, I’m nothing to look at. I promise, I’ll just wash you and get back out. Sorry about all the…” he made a general motion toward his cock, which was hanging heavy and half-hard at the sight of you, “Can’t help that you’re a pretty bird.” 

“John, you’re plenty to look at,” you grinned, blushing right along with him. 

For once in his life, John Price didn’t have a snappy response. He just checked the water again and helped you stand up, guiding you into the shower and repositioning the head so that it wouldn’t hit you directly. 

You let yourself soak under the stream, eyes closed, hearing him shut the door behind himself. You felt him steady you with a hand on your hip as he used a gentle washcloth to clean blood off of your skin, careful not to touch your wounds. 

“Turn ‘round, love,” his voice was so low, you almost couldn’t hear him. 

You turned toward him, watching him stand before you, breathing heavier, trying his best not to stare at your chest. It was easy at first. As he cleaned your face, his touch soft and platonic, he stole a few glances down. But, as he began to take care of your collarbone and chest, he lost his nerve a bit. At one point, he stopped mid-swipe, trying to clean blood from you and then watching as a long, thin rivulet ran directly over your nipple. 

You smiled, and he saw you, chuckling again.

“Got me. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Captain. Just a natural response.” 

He pulled back his lips from his teeth and ran a wet hand down his face, looking exasperated,

“Do you want…I mean, do you mind if I…” he let out a labored sigh, shaking his head. 

“You can, John. I…” you waited until he could look you in the face again, “I want you to touch me, if you want to.”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, not really to you, “Look, I don’t want you to feel - ”

You leaned forward, a bit unsteady, and kissed the skin on his sternum, feeling the hairs on your lips, his wet skin sticking to you as you pulled away. 

“Little bird,” he was warning you. You could hear it in his tone. 

“Kiss me, John. Please?”

“I can’t. I can’t because I won’t stop. I don’t have an abundance of self-control. Not after a mission. Can’t be trusted.”

“I trust you,” you looked up at him, praying back to him, hoping he wanted you like you had wanted him over these last six months. 

Price leaned down, holding you steady, and kissed you very chastely. You kissed him back, not chastely at all. He moaned, pulling away,

“Don’t, Spar. I can’t…You’re injured.”

“Yeah, injured. Not dead.”

He smirked, unable to keep the grin off his face. His cock was as hard as a stone, and it was long enough to rub against your belly as you stood together in the small space. 

“Let me wash your hair. I’ll think about it, birdie…you little minx,” his last comment was said under his breath, full of hungry desperation. 

He turned you around again, and he reached for the shampoo, pouring out a quarter-sized amount into his calloused palm. Rubbing it together in his hands, he ran it through your scalp, massaging it until it foamed, making sure to take care of the ends. Then, he held you while you stood under the spray, letting the warm water soak your tresses, running the suds down the drain. 

As he prepared to wash your body, Price took a deep breath. He stayed away from your wounds, but as he started to wash your trunk, he hesitated to soap your breasts. 

“John, it’s okay.” 

He smiled at you, 

“Just enjoying you, little bird. Might not get another chance.” 

“I’ll make sure you get plenty of chances.” 

He was on you then, gently caressing your breasts and nipples with the soap, rubbing his body on yours, washing himself as he cleaned you. He ran his hands over your ass cheeks, down your legs, making sure to take care of your whole body as if it was his.

“Alright, all done,” he sighed, “Let’s get those dressings replaced, and I’ll take you to bed.”

You raised your eyebrows suggestively. He exhaled, smiling down at you in disbelief, his voice deep and ragged,

“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Keep teasin’ me and I bloody will take you to bed.”

You smiled, laughing with him, enjoying his warmth as you leaned your body against his, letting the soft spray from the shower protect you both, cocooned together, safe and sound.

#captain john price #john price #john price x you #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #cod fanfic #cod fic #call of duty fanfic

[luveline]

Please a Hotch (new girl dad LMFAO) little fic where he discovers the joys and wonders of being a girl dad 😭🤍 like dressing up and playing tea party, or ‘honey, what do I put in her hair?? A bow? A ribbon?? A headband?? A clip??’ Or something about their baby girl always running to him when she bumps her head or falls!! I think it would be really cute

“Do you mind?” you ask through giggles. 

Aaron rubs his hand up the length of your stomach. It tickles in a strange way, but you’re laughing because he’s cornered you on the couch. He takes up the entirety of your view, the air hot between your close faces. 

“No,” he says simply. He has big hands, warm hands. They leave heat in their wake where they touch you. 

“No, come on. I can’t see Jane.” You’re mostly kidding. You really can’t see Jane, but she’s about three feet away, and your living room is baby proofed.

Aaron peeks behind his shoulder. His smile says more than words —he must have caught her smiling herself. “You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Okay. Okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay, I’m just giving mommy some kisses.” Aaron strokes your stomach with a loving thumb. “You want to come over here for a cuddle?” 

Jane doesn’t answer. Aaron turns back to you with a glowing smile. “She’s very happy. Now let me kiss you–” You’re laughing again as he kisses you, your cheek, the high point and the end of your brow. 

“I can’t believe you’ve cornered me,” you say, nudging him away to hold his face in your hands. “It’s too warm in here for this, you need to give me some space.”

“I don’t want space from you,” he jokes, matching your playful tone.

“Daddy!” Jack calls from somewhere deeper in the house. “I need help!”

“With what?” he calls, sitting up and away from your touch. He squeezes your leg as he leaves, his voice echoing against the hallway walls, “Jack? What’s the problem, buddy?” 

He waits for an answer he doesn’t get before heading upstairs. You weren’t lying when you said it was too hot for kisses —the winter chill is pervasive and Jane is vulnerable to the cold, so the heat is high and the Hotchner boys are pink in the cheeks every time you see them. You fan your face, tracking Jane’s clumsy waddling as she ferries a pink teddy bear next to her baby doll beside the picnic blanket you’d laid out for her. 

“Having fun, Janey?” you ask. 

“Baba,” she mumbles. 

“Alright, that’s fun. How about I go make us some dinner?” 

“Babababa…” 

“Bababa,” you say back. 

You set about cleaning the mess she’s making before it can explode and prop the door between the living room and the kitchen open to watch her while you peel some potatoes. She plays happily for a while, and upstairs you can hear the celebratory shouts of the boys having figured something out. “Come have some juice before you do the next part,” Aaron says. 

With a sudden bump and a telling silence, Jane falls over. You drop your potatoes and wipe your hands on your front, prepared to sweep her up in your arms and coo away any tears. Her crying rings like a storm siren, so loud you miss the rush of footsteps down the stairs. 

“Baby,” you say softly, holding out your arms as you approach. Aaron and Jack trickle into the room behind her. “Let mommy see? What did you do, huh?” 

She climbs onto her feet. You don't even realise she’s looking away from you until she’s running at her father’s legs, completely ignoring your offered embrace. “Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron says, bending down to meet her. “What did you do? You hurt yourself? Let me have a look. Let me see.” 

Your chest is a pit, that falling feeling as though you’ve missed a step, but the open joy on Aaron’s face soothes any jealousy quickly. “What did you do?” he asks again, lifting his head to accommodate her little body as she wraps her arms and legs around him. He picks her up. She looks small under his chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Jack weaves around him to hug your thigh. “Did she fall?” he asks. 

He can come to you for anything, big or small, just like Jane can go to her father. You ruffle his soft hair with a smile. “She’s just shocked when things don’t feel nice because she’s so little. It probably didn’t hurt very much, okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Don’t listen to mommy,” Aaron murmurs, patting what looks like the entire span of Jane’s back with a barely opened palm, “I’m sure it hurt lots and lots.” 

“Dad,” she mumbles tearily.

Aaron gives you the look. One he does all too often when he’s feeling grateful for the things he has, his brow pinched into a gentler furrow than usual. “I know, honey. That floor is so mean, always hurting you. I think we should get some soft carpets instead, what do you think?” 

Jack tugs on your hand. “Can you make me some apple juice, please? I think he will be here for a while.” 

You’re thinking there’ll be carpets fitted in here within the month. “Sure, babe. You wanna help me make some French fries?” 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[tinyluvs]

I’ve been feeling fluffy Spencer lately too 🥺🥺 esp dad!spencer like just visiting him at work w bub -🌺

screaming, crying, throwing up, tysm for this angel ♡ enjoyy !! also this ended up WAY longer than i planned it to be!

"i'm hungry," your daughter whines, throwing her head back dramatically, her little arms wrapped around your legs while her chin rests on your thighs

you chuckle at her, fingers brushing through her baby hairs, "you're dramatic," you snicker at her confused face, "daddy's office is only one more floor up, you'll be fine,"

as you finish your sentence the elevator pings and the doors slide open, "come on then princess," you hold your hand out, waiting for a smaller hand to slip into it

"princess hazel!" your little girl squeals, jumping out of the elevator, over the tiny gap and out into the foyer of the bau. she runs on ahead, tiny hands wrapping around the handle on the doors, "open!"

you give her a hand, pulling on the door to open it enough for you both to slip through, "hold on," you gasp, bending to grab her hand before she can take off running through the office

it takes you all of three seconds to spot spencer, sitting at his desk reading a book, though his back is turned to you, "i see daddy," you whisper, leading hazel through the office until she can see him too

"daddy!" she shouts, causing multiple people to turn their attention to the child running through the room but she only has her eyes on her dad

spencer gasps, discarding his book on his desk just in time to catch the ball of excitement launching herself into his lap, "hey sweetheart!" he chuckles, tightening his arms around hazel's body, squeezing her

he stands up, spinning around with his daughter in his arms as you finally catch up to them. the little girl squeals and giggles, throwing her head back again, "be careful," you giggle, gently holding the back of her head, "hey,"

"hello," your boyfriend smiles, settling hazel under his arm as he swoops forwards to kiss you quickly, "what're you guys doing here?" he asks, putting your child down

"well, we thought we could have lunch together," you explain, watching spencer hold both of hazels's hands while she tucks her legs up, hanging in front of him in a fit of giggles

"lunch!" hazel repeats, finally putting her feet on the floor but no sooner has she made contact with the ground, she's holding her arms up, waiting for spencer to pick her up, again, "up!"

spencer sighs, jokingly and over exaggerated, "again? but you're so heavy," he says but never one to say no to either of his girls, he crouches, scooping his baby up

silently you watch them, unpacking sandwiches, all wrapped up neatly in foil. out of the corner of your eye, you notice penelope and derek wander into the bullpen, "oh my goodness, my baby!" pen gasps before you can even say hello to her

hazel scrambles, accidentally kicking spencer in the stomach as she leaps from his arms, "auntie pen! uncle 'rek!" both of the adults crouch down, their arms wrapping around the small girl as she barrels into them

you and spencer lean into each other, smiling widely as you distantly hear hazel shouting, "up!" at derek just a few seconds before she's sitting proudly on his shoulders, her chin resting on top of his head

the commotion grabs the attention of dave, jj and emily who all appear from different directions, though they all end up stood in front of derek, talking up at hazel

"she's so loved," you smile softly, looking up at spencer, his arm snaking around your waist and his lips pressing against your forehead

"she is," he agrees, reaching for the sandwiches on his desk. he unwraps all of them, handing you half of yours before holding half of hazel's out, "morgan, come here," he chuckles

derek jumps, sending hazel giggling all over again as they make their way towards you, the rest of the team following. derek bends down, letting hazel snatch her sandwich from her dad

"hey guys," you greet the rest of the team, side hugging them gently, "how is everyone?" you ask after getting a mixed bag of greetings back from them

"much better now hazel's here," jj comments, holding her hand out so that hazel will give her a high five, "good job honey," she nods when your daughter, aggressively, slaps her hand

spencer sits on the edge of his desk, pulling slightly on your sweater until you're moving back, plopping down right next to him while you finish your sandwich

"where's uncle aaron?" hazel asks, twisting her tiny body around violently. a small scowl covers her face as she realises, he's not in the bullpen

emily leans, looking around everyone, "hey, he's in his office, shall we go see him?" she asks, holding her hands out. hazel nods, sliding off of derek’s shoulders and into emily's arms

before they dart off, spencer leans forwards, taking the left over crust from his daughters hands, "why won't you eat those?" he asks, shaking his head slightly

"yucky!" hazel shouts through a laugh when emily hops up the few stairs in front of aaron's office.

"she's getting so big," dave comments, crossing his arms over his chest, "i feel like the last time i saw her, she was half the size she is now,"

"yeah, you should bring her in more often," penelope huffs, plopping down into a spinny chair that you guess is spencers, "or, at least let me babysit every once in a while,"

through open blinds you watch as aaron stands your daughter on his desk, "hey, you guys are more than welcome to borrow her any time," you chuckle, "she's a handful though," you warn

"we can handle her for a few hours, give you and spence some time alone," jj says, her tone suggestive, "maybe give hazel a little brother or sister?" she comments before brushing past, also on her way to aaron's office

beside you spencer blushes a deep red, his fingers drumming against your waist, "jj!" he groans, causing derek, penlope and dave to also laugh as they depart, following the sound of your girls laughter

you lean back to look into aaron's office through the now open door, "she's bouncing on his couch," you snicker, watching the rest of the team bob their heads as they all watch her going up and down

"oh god," spencer gasps, standing, ready to go and stop her but you wrap your fingers loosely around his wrist pulling him back so he's stood between your legs, "pretty," he smiles, looking down at you

his thumbs ghost over your cheeks as they heat, "hey, do you ever think about it?" you ask but spencer just tilts his head like a confused puppy, "having another baby," you clarify

your boyfriend thinks for a second, "well, yeah, of course, why?" he asks, a light smirk playing on his face. his hands slip down your neck, resting on your shoulders

"hazel's going into kindergarten soon, so, it wouldn't be the worst timing," you say slowly, staring up at spencer, "what do you think?"

spencer smiles wildly, humming in agreement before bending to kiss you properly, though it's messy and interrupted by the both of you smiling into it, "sounds perfect," he mumbles, kissing at the corner of your mouth before standing straight

"okay," you whisper, heart racing with excitement as you wrap your arms around spencer's waist, pulling him in so you can hide your face against his stomach, "right, let's go retrieve out daughter before she makes herself sick,"

spencer laughs at you, tangling his fingers with yours as you lead him towards aaron's office. you slot in by the rest of the team while spencer catches hazel mid couch jump, "you'll be sick if you carry on with that, princess,"

"no i won't!"

the team laughs while you lean slightly towards jj, "hey, do you, maybe, fancy having a play date this weekend?" you ask, eyeing her slightly though you don't need to, she knows what you're asking and why

"i would absolutely love to,"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n you know what imma say !! proofread badly, soz x

also; dad!spencer has my mf ♡

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid request #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #❥ spencer reid #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid fic recs #❥ spencer reid drabbles

[faevi]

hello!!! I saw that you wrote lifeguard Levi before, requesting lifeguard Gojo, smut 🙏 🙏 🙏

Jellyfish Sting // Gojo.

Scenario: Ouch! Stung by a jellyfish. Good thing Lifeguard Gojo Satoru is here to save the day… Oh, and make you feel reeeaaaallll good.

Word Count: 16,681.

Content / Trigger Warnings: female reader (she/her), lifeguard!gojo, cunnilingus, blowjob, handjob, fingering, sexual intercourse, unprotected, creampie, exhibitionism, public, outdoors, beach sex, dirty talk, pet-names (mostly princess), a jellyfish sting(?), jokes of piss, big dick gojo, stomach bulge, phone call whilst sex happens, people walking by, spanking, massaging, praise, dom!gojo / taking orders, breathplay (via dick and blocking airways), weird position (idk if it has a name but on gojo’s shoulders as he holds you up as he . . .), rough, breast worshipping, finger sucking / consuming cum. all completely consensual.

I think that's it! Please (kindly) let me know if I missed something.

Note: A request is done, woo !! Again like I usually say - not my best. AHAHA. I try !! I didn’t proof-read or edit so forgive if there’s any mistakes, just ignooooore. Lifeguard Gojo is… drools. Very yum. I think that’s about it? ; - ; Thank you for waiting. If you’re reading this and enjoyed it, please let me know !! <333 I’m a slut for kind words. Like usual, I’ll try to do better with my writing. Also hopefully this one doesn’t get fl*gged like my other one :))))))))).

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

The sun is blazing hot even amongst the few clouds in the sky. If it wasn’t for the sunscreen, you were sure you’d be burnt to a crisp. Truth be told, you didn’t even want to be outside today but, your friends whined about wanting to go to the beach and what kind of friend would you be to deny them that? Still, the weather could be a lot worse than it is and it’s the perfect season for cute bikinis to wear.

You quickly glance down at yourself, admiring the shade of red of your bikini and the flimsy strings tied into cute bows before sighing out softly, feeling content to just sit beneath the large umbrella that you rented with your small group of friends. They’re near the shoreline, playfully splashing each other and there’s a pang of guilt within you for not joining them so quickly. “Come on, Y/N. You won’t die.” You mumble to yourself, shifting yourself from your laying position until you’re up on your feet, carefully bending down so your head doesn’t hit the umbrella. It’s just a bit of sun. Besides, there’s a nice breeze and lifeguards here to save you— If you really do end up in danger. You look over to the tall chair, squinting a little to inspect the lifeguard that’s on duty in this area.

Your eyes travel a bit south of his body and you feel like all of the air was just knocked out of you and leaving you winded. Okay, so maybe his figure is gorgeous. Well-defined muscles. Really, well defined. That must be an eight-pack and how is that realistically possible? Even his legs look nice and long. Soft white hair that makes your fingers twitch with the urge to touch. His skin is clearly well taken care of when he’s out in the sun most days. Wait a minute— Was he looking at you? Even with distance, you can clearly see his head is turned in your direction, sunglasses not truly covering his eyes that you swear are looking your way. No… He’s probably just checking the general area.

He’s smirking at you. You’ve been caught.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, thankful to see that his co-worker is suddenly grabbing his attention and so before you’re truly distracted, you stomp through the sand towards your friends. Whatever. You just wanted to double-check check someone was on duty. That’s all it is. “Y/N, finally!” One of your friends whines playfully, latching around your neck to cling to you. “We were wondering when you’d join us. Sitting all alone is boring, y’know.��� Your friend continues and you laugh softly, gently patting her back. “I was playing the main character in hopes that the hot lifeguard would look my way.” You say, giggling along with your friends as you glance towards the lifeguard once more.

He’s off the seat now and you couldn’t ignore the obvious sight of tight red shorts low on his hips, the v-line tempting you to want to see further. You feel like some nasty side of you is starting to awaken. You didn’t even pay attention to his hot co-worker; long black hair tied up and your friend clinging onto you gushing about his smile. He’s cute, you couldn’t deny that but, the white-haired lifeguard… There’s something about him.

“Quickly, one of us needs to start drowning.” Your other friend says and you playfully smack her shoulder. “Let’s all just actually swim.” You say, dragging your friends into the warm salty water. It didn’t take long for you to fool around with your friends, briefly oblivious to a certain lingering gaze on your figure. Even with hatred towards the heat, you find yourself grateful for visiting the beach. It’s comforting; to be able to spend time playing around with your friends before the days get busy again.

You grin as you splash one of your friends in retaliation to her own and the pair of you try to dodge each other’s attacks before there’s a sly smile on her face and she floats closer. “Mister lifeguard really does love looking at you~.” She teases and your mouth opens to respond, only for a sharp cry to escape your lips. There’s a painful stinging sensation across your leg and out of instinct, you begin to kick your leg as you flail away from the general area. “What? What is it!” One of the friends says, frantically taking a hold of you.

Usually, you have a high tolerance for pain, but nothing could stop the tears from appearing and threatening to spill as your lower leg area throbs. “J-Jellyfish!” You gasp out your warning, grabbing a hold of your friend who was clinging onto you and begin to swim back to the shoreline before you stumble onto the sand. A mere jellyfish managed to brush its nasty tentacles up against your leg. You plop your ass down against the sand, bringing your leg closer to try and inspect the unpleasant sting, biting back your soft whimpers of pain. “It’s just a sting, don’t worry.” You try to reassure your group of friends who are surrounding you and showing obvious signs of panic. You could feel the area throb, witnessing as it swells up and the parts where the tentacles actually touch flare up. You scrunch your face up, fingers digging into the sand as you try to not show how much it hurts. You didn’t want your friends to panic further. It’s a rather small incident compared to what could happen out in the ocean.

“What’s going on, girlies?”

You turn your head in the direction of the deep voice, eyes instantly making contact with a crystal blue pair, the sunglasses low on the bridge of the lifeguard’s nose. It’s the white-haired one. You feel like you could potentially faint from a mixture of pain and having his gorgeous existence right in front of your very eyes. You quickly glance to notice his co-worker is next to him, they’re both appearing rather concerned. Your friends back off to give space as they both kneel next to you, feeling your cheeks heating up quickly. “It’s nothing, honestly! I just got stung by a jellyfish.” You explain hastily, hands coming up to wave in dismissal, not wanting to distract the hot lifeguards from their actual job.

You feel something graze gently against your cheek and you finally snap your focus to the touch. The white-haired lifeguard’s finger wipes away a tear that managed to escape, offering a comforting smile before looking towards the large sting area and letting out a low whistle. “It got you pretty good.” He begins, leaning to the side to allow his co-worker to inspect the inflamed part of your leg. You’re too focused on the white-haired male with the sunglasses. His lips soon twist to form a playful smirk.

“Want me to piss on it?”

You felt like your mind completely malfunctioned and went into overdrive from hearing such a filthy question. Instantly, his co-worker smacks him across the back of his head and the playful lifeguard whines dramatically, hands coming up to the back of his head. “Don’t ever offer that stupid idea again, Satoru. You know that’s a myth. You’re going to traumatise the poor girl.” His co-worker sighs and all you could really focus on is the fact that you now know his name. Satoru.

Satoru rolls his eyes, lips forming what must be his signature pout as his hands come down to tenderly guide your leg closer to him. “I doubt she’d be traumatised from a bit of urine, Suguru. I was just joking.” He grumbles, noticing the way your friends appeared disgusted by the idea and yet, you’re simply flustered and avoiding eyes. Cute, is all Satoru can think. “Ladies, your friend—“ He pauses, looking your way.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N will be completely fine. I’ll take her up to the lifeguard tower and you guys can keep having fun. Suguru will keep watch.” Satoru expresses and you look towards your friends, all looking concerned. Even over a jellyfish sting. “I’m okay! Keep having fun, I’ll be good in no time.” You say hastily, maybe a bit too eager to be alone with the white-haired male. Hopefully, it’s not too obvious. Your friends continue to give looks of worry and even guilt about leaving you alone, but you simply give them a smile of reassurance as you press your hands against the warm sand, intending to move so you’re standing.

Instead, you feel a rush of air around you and something strong yet comforting wrapping around your body; one around the back of your knees and the other around your shoulders. You didn’t expect your mind to shortcircuit for the second time so soon as you managed to process that the pair of ‘something’ was Satoru’s toned arms lifting you with ease until he was carrying you bridal style. You let out an awkward laugh, ignoring how hot your face feels as you glance up at his smirking face. “It’s just a jellyfish sting, I’m sure I can walk.” You say quite timidly, ignoring the lingering gazes from both your friends and Satoru’s co-worker.

The white-haired male simply looks down at your face, pearly whites exposed as he grins a little, voice low and smug. “Princesses get carried, no? Come on.” He says, turning his broad back to the group as he begins to walk away. Trying to appear casual by rubbing your face as if something itches; you’re actually trying to hide your own giddiness from hearing his words, even noticing how careful he was with carrying you to not touch the area of your leg on where the jellyfish stung you. Satoru continues to walk through crowds of people on the beach, further up towards the tower, completely unphased by the burning sun against his pale skin. He briefly wonders to himself if he could manage to convince someone as cute as you to reapply sunscreen on spots he can’t reach.

Satoru should feel terrible for already thinking such selfish things but, in his defence? He could tell the attraction was mutual the second he caught you looking at him. It’s a miracle he was even looking away at that moment because the moment he saw you and your friends set up on the beach, he refused to move post with Suguru or other co-workers; insisting he stays on guard for that section of the beach. Just so he could continue to selfishly watch you for his own pleasure. He clears his throat to snap out of his deep thoughts. “So, I have a feeling that you’re not actually a fan of the beach, Y/N.”

You puff your cheeks out, head briefly resting against his shoulder as he continues to carry you. The muscles in his arms didn’t even twitch to show exhaustion. He was perfectly fine with holding you for a long time. “What gives you that idea? Have you been watching me?” You tease lightly, internally wondering where on Earth the confidence suddenly comes from. “Yeah, you’ve caught my eye.” The lifeguard replies, finally at the steps of the tower, looking down at you. You quickly look down, feeling even more exposed than before. Especially in your skimpy bikini. You couldn’t deny the happiness that seemed to ignite in your heart from hearing the lifeguard’s words. You’ve caught his eye. Out of everyone on that beach, it’s you. You sigh softly.

“I don’t hate the beach, I actually quite like it. I just feel like I’m going to dramatically burn to death or something from how hot the sun is. That aside, maybe I’ve found something to make me enjoy the beach more than before. Even the sun can’t stop it… or the sting.” You hastily add as you still feel your lower leg throbbing. Being with the hot lifeguard can only do so much. You watch as his lips curl and eyebrows twist to form a frown. “Right. Hold on.” He says, tightening his large hands against your body as he carries you up the steps of the tower before reaching the top. The door is already open as he steps inside sideways and your eyes notice another pair of gorgeous lifeguards sitting in front of the large windows that look down upon the beach. One with his blonde hair slicked back and keeping his body covered with the lifeguard jacket and longer shorts. You notice he’s wearing glasses. The other is another male; with long hair tied up into two messy buns and a bold tattooed line across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. They both tilt their heads towards you.

Satoru presses you against him as he holds you, refusing to let you stand. He really is giving you the princess treatment for just a jellyfish sting. “Utahime left for the day already, Nanami?” Satoru asks, stepping in the direction of the back of the tower. The blonde male simply nods, eyes focused on you for the moment. You offer a timid smile, looking down towards your fidgeting hands. “What happened with her?” The other lifeguard asks, glancing towards you before returning their gaze towards the windows, and picking up a pair of binoculars. “Jellyfish sting, nothing too bad but I’d rather treat it than let her sit out in the sun and wait for the pain to go. Quicker this way, Choso. Anyways, don’t mind us.” Satoru insists, waiting for the pair to be distracted with their job before he truly moves to the back, behind a set of curtains.

“You really didn’t have to bring me all the way over here. I could have waited it out.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the lifeguard tower as the white-haired male carefully sets you down on the mattress of the medical bed, allowing your legs to dangle off the side. Satoru whips the curtain further shut to give you both privacy, looking down at you as he reveals a slight crooked grin. “Can you just let me pretend to do my job so I can have you to myself?” He teases and automatically, your thighs begin to clench together as you feel a stir of excitement within you. “That and I’d rather actually ease the pain of the sting. It’d be quicker here than out there. Didn’t you want to get out of the sun?” He reminds, plopping his ass down onto the stool as he rolls over to the counter.

Maybe it’s because of his own flirtatious ways that you find a side of you awakening. That must be it for your words. “Well, I definitely wanted to get out of the sun with you, mister lifeguard.” You say so sweetly, your eyes lingering on the tiny red shorts that just tighten further around his toned legs. Satoru feels a boost to his own ego at your shy words, setting a bucket under the tap before adjusting for hot water, looking your way. “A princess with a sweet tongue. What a weakness of mine. Let’s focus on the sting for a moment.” He says, soon lifting the bucket out of the sink, and grabbing a spray bottle full of vinegar before setting them down. “Various remedies, different strokes for different folks. They all work, usually. It’s a relief we don’t live in an area with dangerous types. Otherwise, I’d be running to the hospital with you in my arms. What would you prefer to try to soothe the pain?” He asks, hands rubbing along his toned thighs.

Truth be told, you could barely focus on his words of wisdom. You’re far too distracted by his pretty hands against his thighs. “The hot water..” You manage to respond and Satoru simply smiles, noticing how distracted you appear to be. “Or you could just look at my pretty face as a distraction until the pain is gone. That might take longer.” He teases and you couldn’t help but whine, playfully kicking in his direction. “Stooooop, you’re making me flustered.” You whisper, not wanting the other lifeguards to hear as your walls quickly come down in Satoru’s presence. It already feels like you’ve known him for so long. He chuckles, bringing the bucket of hot water closer as he sets it between you and himself before gesturing for you to scoot to the edge of the bed. The white-haired male bends down, tenderly taking hold of your ankle before guiding your foot into the hot water. It’s big enough so the water completely covers up the throbbing sting area and you hiss gently from the heat.

Your fingers grip the edge of the thin mattress, breathing in deeply. It’s slow but, the sting is starting to subside already, causing your body to relax with relief. Satoru’s large hand rests against your bare thigh, giving a gentle squeeze and nails scraping along your soft skin. “You think this method is good enough for you?” His voice is soft, as if he wants his co-workers not to disturb him, his thumb rubbing in a circular motion against your flesh. You feel like your gut is twisting from the lifeguard’s touch, gaze fixated on his bare abdomen on display for only your eyes to see. “Yeah..” You breathe out softly, making sure to keep your foot in the bucket of hot water and your eyes already becoming droopy. His touch feels so good... You wonder what else his hands could do.

You snap out of your thoughts when he pulls away, standing up from the stool and before he can move away, two of your fingers suddenly hook beneath the elastic of his lifeguard shorts, preventing him from moving. “Oh? Attached to me already, are you? Don’t worry, princess. I’m just going over there.” He teases as he jabs his thumb in the direction of the counter. Flustered, you quickly let go and look away. He bites back an amused smile, setting the spray bottle filled with vinegar back on the counter before he begins to look through the drawers. Your eyes automatically look his way to watch his movements, wondering what he’s looking for. “You’re not going back out, are you? It— It just hurts a lot, I’m afraid something might happen to me if no one’s around.” You ramble, cringing at your own obvious lies.

Satoru snorts gently, picking up a tube of cream and smacks it lightly against his hand as he makes his way back to the stool, ever so casually. “Now after hearing that, I can’t dare leave the princess all alone, even though there are lifeguards on the other side of the curtain, can I?” He sits back down, rolling close enough to stretch out his arms until both of his hands are on either side of you, trapping you within. You couldn’t even look him in the eye; finding that his piercing blue orbs are impossible to not drown in. “I wasn’t planning to leave, it’s near the end of my shift. I’ll stay with you.” Satoru reassures, playfully tapping the tube of cream against your thigh, his gaze obvious and hot against your figure. “How’s the leg?” He asks.

You slide your leg out of the bucket of water and look down. It’s not stinging as much and you can see the bumpy lines of where the tentacles touched you. “It doesn’t hurt as much.” You say and Satoru reaches over to grab a towel, placing it across his lap and pats it. You couldn’t help but smile before lifting your leg until you rested it against him. Carefully, he pats your leg dry before grabbing the tube of cream. “This will help further. May I?” He asks, already squirting the cream onto the tips of his long fingers, confident to hear you give permission. Although fixated on the length of his fingers, you manage to nod your head and he smears it gently across the inflamed area. He’s careful as he massages it in with his fingers and you continue to watch, feeling a little breathless. Even the numbing pain that is starting to subside couldn’t distract you from focusing on the gorgeous lifeguard.

Satoru tilts his head down to prevent you from seeing his amused smirk as his ears manage to pick up the softest whine that escapes you from his touch. He’s a little selfish in the fact that his other hand joins in to tenderly massage your leg. If anyone asks why he’s taking so long; it really is for your benefit. He does care that you got stung, after all. It’s not pleasant. “Are you going home after this? If not, it might be best to bandage it just to keep it covered for now.” Satoru says, wiping his hands dry against the sides of his red shorts. You pause when you hear the question. All of your belongings are still back with your friends and they probably expect you to return before going home at least but… something else was on your mind.

You bite down on your lip, courage flowing through your veins as your foot on his lap presses down against his toned thigh, daringly close to a particularly sensitive area for a man. You watch as a white eyebrow arches and he peeks at you beneath his circular shades. “When exactly does your shift end?” You ask quietly, glancing towards the closed curtain. Satoru sighs out softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he focuses on the pressure of your foot. You’re not going straight home, it seems. He tugs his phone out to inspect the time, leaning over to hastily snatch up the roll of bandages before tucking his phone away. “In about ten. Why? Do you want me all to yourself?” He teases, thumb pressing the bandage against your leg to hold it in place as he begins to wind it around, eyes never leaving your face.

“Surely there are some secluded areas on the beach that you work on. That must be pretty and fun to be alone with a girl..” You say, unable to stop the sheepish giggle from escaping your lips. Since when could you be so bold? He ties a firm knot before nudging your foot off of his lap to roll his stool closer. He’s tall enough even when he’s sitting and you are on a higher surface, that he’s face to face with you. The lifeguard is so close that you can feel his warm breath fan against your lips. Fuck. You clench your thighs together as best as you can without being so obvious. You should have worn black if you knew there would be a ridiculously hot lifeguard on the scene because you just know there’s a damp patch forming on the bright red fabric of your bikini.

“I can think of a few areas, perhaps. Promise me that you’ll be all mine as I show you around? I mean, if someone disturbs us… I won’t be stopping.” He warns, voice deep and smooth. The words send shivers up your spine and you lean in to playfully bump your nose against his. “Wouldn’t want you to stop, Satoru. I mean, it’s the least I can do for the lifeguard who saved me from a jellyfish sting.” You tease sweetly, fingers ghosting along his toned bicep. He curses beneath his breath, bending down until his forehead meets your bare shoulder. He’s impatient. If it was up to him, the white-haired male would already be bending you over the edge of the medical bed and fucking you in front of his co-workers. Still, it will be exciting to have some fun on a beach where anyone could walk by.

“Such an honour to treat the princess. Now, to waste time—“ He pauses, pulling away as he stands up and walks out from behind the curtain. You automatically pout at him leaving you, gripping the edge of the bed as you wait. Satoru snatches the large bottle of sunscreen from the front of Nanami and Choso, offering a wide grin. Nanami holds his hand up to stop Satoru from speaking. “I don’t want to know.” Nanami says before crossing his arms and continuing to watch. The white-haired male rolls his eyes, grumbling to himself before he returns to you from behind the curtain and sighs. “Do me a favour? I can’t reach anywhere.” Satoru says, placing the sunscreen next to you and you couldn’t help but grin a little. He’s too cute in a way.

You jump to your feet with eagerness, ignoring the dull ache that lingers beneath the bandage and squirt a generous amount of the white liquid into the palm of your hand, oblivious to Satoru’s intense gaze. He’s staring at you, eyes clouded with a mixture of endearment and hot desire. Satoru isn’t feeling attached. Not like that. At least, not yet. Surely any guy would find it difficult to not be endeared by your cute actions, especially when you seem so eager to please him with such a simple task. You grimace a little as it threatens to drip over the side of your hand and approach the tall male, offering him a sickly sweet smile. “Come here, please.” You say and you both meet each other in the middle of the small medic area, chest to chest.

With cheeks feeling hot, you step back slightly before slapping your hand against his firm chest and he grunts a little, lips parting to tease you about not being sexy enough; only to choke on his own saliva. His piercing blue eyes are intense with the gaze, staring down at both of your hands that are now against his toned chest and starting to smear the sunscreen, nice and slow. Your hands seem so much smaller compared to his and just that alone enough is driving his mind wild from the size difference; filthy images of you being practically bent in half before him. Flexible or not, Satoru knows he’d manhandle you into the position he craves.

You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, biting down on your lip as you began to allow your hands to explore further south, fingers tracing along the beautifully defined muscle lines of his abdomen. You could feel how rock solid and hot he feels from living beneath the sun as a career, hands eager to rub in the sunscreen. You wouldn’t want him to get burned by the sun after all. What kind of princess would let their ‘hero’ suffer like that? No. It’s your job to please him in every way possible, just like you want to. Your fingertips trace along the v-line that travels further down and to an area you shouldn’t reach. Except, you dip your fingers just beneath the elastic and look up into his blue eyes.

“I just have a feeling your upper thighs might get exposed to the sunlight later. Best to be careful. Right?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you spread the last of the sunscreen along his upper thighs, daring to glide close to the middle but, not far enough. Satoru merely grunts in response, eyes now looking upwards and you could practically see him beg himself to stay in control and not snap. It’s so hard to do that. Another hard thing happens to be his cock. He can feel himself hardening as you tease him further, length straining against the already tight boardshorts. You look down, lips parting in awe to see the outline of how thick and long he is. Is that even humanly possible? You’ve been with guys before but, they were never built like this.

In silent admiration over his giant length straining, your nails graze along the top of his thighs before you slip your hands out. You inspect the upper body area to see the light glisten of sunscreen before you pump some more into your hands and carefully, lower yourself onto your knees. The curtain isn’t long enough that it reaches the floor. If Satoru’s lifeguards look back for even a second, they’d be able to see the glimpse of you kneeling on the ground, looking like you’re doing something so sinful behind the curtains. Satoru notices it instantly and that alone is enough to cause him to sigh heavily and drag his fingers through his white hair. “Y/N, cheeky little girl..” He breathes out as you begin to rub the sunscreen into his legs. You look up to see his crystal blue eyes admiring the sight of you kneeling before him and you merely smile in response.

“I want to cover every inch of you so you’re safe from the sun, that’s all. Although… I won’t smother your cock in sunscreen. I’ll protect that part of you with my, hm.. mouth? Pussy? The sun won’t get you there.” You say soft enough for only Satoru to hear and his hand now travels to cover his mouth in almost disbelief from your filthy words. He’d even say he was close to feeling flustered for the first time in his life; never expecting the timid girl who insisted she’d be okay to suddenly have skyrocketing confidence that only riles him up further. He looks at the time of his watch and curses. You really are taking your sweet time to caress every part of his body and teasing him with scratches from your nails and gentle squeezes. He needs to get you out of here.

“Sweetheart, with all due respect— Please hurry up so I can fucking get you out of here.” Satoru says, fingers gliding through your hair to grip on, pulling nice and slow so you could feel the tugging pain on each strand. Fuck. The aching pain floods you with excitement and desperation to obey his words and so you hastily get to your feet, leaning up on your toes to ghost your lips across his. A near kiss. “Sorry, I just love to worship.” You say, giggling as he leans forward to try and complete the kiss. He rolls his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitch and he turns around. With haste, you squirt the last amount of sunscreen to lather across his broad back, admiring his wide shoulders and the movements of his muscles as you rub in the white liquid down along the length of his body before pulling away. “All done! How did I do?” You ask, grinning.

He turns around, almost melting at the sight of you and takes hold of your smaller hand with his much bigger one. “Perfect— My good girl. Please tell me you’re still good to go protection-wise.” He says, eager to leave. You couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t long ago when you applied sunscreen and so with your free hand, you give him the thumbs up. The lifeguard sighs with relief before he begins to pull you out from behind the curtain, reaching for his backpack with his spare hand to swing over his shoulder. “Alright, I’m off to fuck— I mean off the clock and going home.” Satoru jokes and you feel yourself flush with heat. Even knowing this man for just over an hour and you’re not really surprised by his crude behaviour with his co-workers. Still, it leaves you flustered. Satoru merely grins at his co-workers who roll their eyes before he pulls you out of the open doorway, nudging his sandals close to your feet. Your heart flutters and you slide your feet into them, noticing how big they are on your feet.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” You whine softly and Satoru guides you down the steps carefully, not wanting you to trip over. He simply chuckles, shoulders shrugging. “Not ashamed and I’m a proud man when I get what I want.” Satoru says, feet meeting the sand. You playfully bump your head against his shoulder, fingers lacing with his. “What about your feet? Aren’t they hot?” You ask with a small pout and instantly, Satoru’s heart clenches at the sight. “Used to it and would prefer your feet protected— Come on, my dick is dying.” He says, gently tugging you along. You would have scolded him for his bluntness if it wasn’t holding some truth for yourself. You, yourself, felt like you were dying from not already being stuffed full of his throbbing length as he pounds into oblivion, claiming you on the beach that you’re sharing with hundreds of others.

Satoru is eagerly pulling you along the beach, glancing every so often to make sure you’re not struggling; whether with his large shoes or the jellyfish sting but, it seems you were just as eager for the crowd to start thinning out as you walk horizontally along with the ocean. Both of your hearts are pounding with excitement, too deep in focus to hold a conversation. That can happen later. You’re still facing a bit of disbelief. How can a ridiculously attractive man, who basically pours out godly energy; want you? After just an hour or so. It’s dangerous realistically speaking and yet, you’re desperate to have him. To please the lifeguard with your own two hands and mouth. Even more.

Satoru continues to drag you along, shades covering his eyes as he glances across the beach. You’ve both been walking for so long now that it’s not part of the popular tourist spot on the beach. People rarely come down this way because he and other lifeguards express that the waters can become dangerous and it’s preferred to situate yourselves within the flags. It’s been about five minutes since he saw the last person lounging on the sand and frankly, he’s had enough. Why walk a further ten minutes just to be extra careful? No one’s around. Even if someone did appear, it’s not going to stop him from touching you. Truth be told, Satoru loves the thrill of being caught and showing off what belongs to him. Even if only temporary.

He finally comes to a stop and you’re panting softly; a mixture of excitement and tiredness from walking beneath the hot sun that is only just now beginning to set. Slowly. White strands of hair fall over his eyes as he looks down at you, unable to stop himself from cooing at the cute sight of you clinging onto his hand, looking like a lost little lamb for the taking. “Sweet girl, I think this is far enough. Here—“ He pauses, tightening his hold on you as he moves up towards the tall cliffs that provide shade. You feel like your cheeks doubled in heat from his words, following him until he suddenly twirls you around and you stumble towards the face of the cliff.

His large hand presses against your lower back, preventing you from making a rough impact on the rock surface. It’s rather smoothed out, not too painful to lean your back against and you look up at him. His free hand presses against the cliff beside your face, easily towering above you. He pushes the sunglasses up until they sit comfortably on top of his head, strands of hair pushed back to expose his forehead. Already, loose strands begin to fall back down, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is you. He drops his backpack to the side. “The ocean years ago used to reach up to the cliff, slowly washed away the roughness. Perfect to pin you up against, don’t you think?” Satoru says, deep voice sounding almost like magic with the gentle waves in the background.

Your heart is hammering, feeling the slightly jagged rocks against your bare back, but he’s right. It’s the only perfect surface in such an outdoor space. Frankly, you don’t care. You don’t even care anymore about being out in the open. You were nervous before, but all you see is Satoru. Your fingers ghost up along his bare arms before you snake your arms around his neck, leaning up onto the tip of your toes. He bends down so his lips are over yours. “Hurry up and fuck me.” You whisper, soon feeling his soft tiers crashing against yours. Satoru with patience completely out the window; kisses you with fierce passion. He feels fucking starved when it comes to you. The lifeguard noticed you and your friends the moment you set up beneath the umbrella and he struggled to do his job when he was just watching you so intently. Finding every little thing about you to be sweet and cute. Irresistible, even. First time meeting, who the fuck cares. He’s going to have you.

You feel breathless already as he devours you with such ease. Satoru’s lips move slowly against yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and you whimper softly, one hand coming to rest against his bare chest. His skin felt so hot despite being in the shade and you could feel his heart racing. It’s somewhat comforting to know that his heart races with excitement like yours. You gasp softly as his tongue glides smoothly across your bottom lip. “Open wide, princess.” He mumbles into the kiss and as you oblige so quickly, his tongue slides into your wet cavern, eager to explore every inch of it, pressing your body against the cliff face as his own much bigger form pins you against it. Needy whines are muffled by his lips as his tongue teasingly rubs against yours. Satoru slides his large hand down the length of your back before boldly cupping your ass cheek to give a harsh squeeze.

“Ah, ‘toru..” You pant out softly, feeling both of his hands now groping your bare ass cheeks, fingertips pressing so deeply into your flesh that you feel a sweet ache. The flimsy fabric of your bikini bottom rides between your cheeks as he fondles roughly, saliva smearing across your cheek as his lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw, panting softly. “Could see your ass a mile away before, found it so fucking cute. Knew I wanted you then.” He groans softly against your ear, coaxing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter wildly and prompt you to dig your nails gently into his skin. You can feel his tongue dancing across your warm flesh, teeth nibbling before he bites down harshly on the side of your neck, sucking firmly.

You whimper from the dull throb that spreads from the spot and Satoru presses a kiss to the abused area before he pulls back to gaze down at you, eyes swirling with deep lust. “Satoru, please... You’re making me feel so—“ You bite down on your lip and look to the side, somewhat flustered. He merely smirks, cupping the side of your neck and leans to the other side to give his sweet attention. “What is it, pretty girl? Needy? Fucking wet for me? Shall I see for myself?” He says, one hand toying with the tied-up bow. One tug and it’d slip down. His teasing almost frustrates you, already wishing to feel more as his lips scatter kisses across your neck and down to the valley of your breasts. The bikini top did a pathetic job of covering your boobs.

“You’re such a tease.” You exhale softly, glancing at your surroundings. No one is around, still. He grins playfully at your words, one hand lifting from your behind for only a moment before he smacks your cheek firmly, causing you to yelp and press up against him. You feel the sweet sting spread across your ass cheek that jiggles from impact and he swats again before the tingle. Again and again, Satoru spanks your ass, alternating cheeks until he grips the throbbing flesh and drags his nails harshly along the burning skin. You’re whimpering against his chest, hopelessly holding onto him as he lands each spank with such precision, breasts pressing against him. “Fucking delicious.” He sighs out heavily, feeling the heat from the harsh spanks radiate off of your skin.

You’re biting down on your lip harshly as if that could stop the lewd sounds that slip from your lips as his palms soothingly massage the painful sting. With tears already in your eyes, you discovered how much you love pain to be inflicted on you by his hands alone. It sent waves down to your very core. “Sadist..” You mumble playfully as your hand snakes down his abdomen until your fingers once more dip beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Maybe I am, I don’t see you having a problem with it.” He whispers against your ear, hands pausing against your behind. “Baby~. We’re all alone. Stop being so sneaky. Just say you want to see how big I am.” He says smugly and you would have rolled your eyes if his words didn’t hold the truth.

You look down between you both as Satoru’s long fingers hook beneath his boardshorts, tugging them down to the middle of his thighs and your jaw drops at the sight of his hardened cock springing out from the tight confinements of his shorts, throbbing deliciously before your very eyes. He’s big. Beyond big. Long in length and the girth is so thick, you wonder if it’d even fit comfortably inside. Your gaze fixates on the protruding veins that line up along his length, saliva threatening to dribble out at the glorious sight of his dick. No wonder he’s so cocky. “You’re so hot—“ You blurt out before cupping the back of his neck to pull him down for another feverish kiss, your other hand coming down towards his exposed length. He’s all smug as he responds to the kiss, heart swelling with pride and lips curled to form a smile against your lips. He’s a sucker for praise. Satoru couldn’t deny that.

He grunts in response as your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, the tips barely able to touch together. It feels so warm and heavy against your palm and you couldn’t help but think it’s somewhat comforting in a way, as you begin to stroke nice and slowly. Satoru moves to hunch over but your hand presses against his shoulder for the moment, bending low enough so you could dribble out saliva until it drips down onto your stroking hand and Satoru’s hand comes up to tug on his own hair, knocking his sunglasses off his head. He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the snug tightness of your hand as it smears the saliva across each inch of his cock. “So thick..” You whisper and he can barely catch your words as the waves crash against the shore behind him, feeling completely wrapped up in the pleasure that pulses through him as you continue to pump your fist, not daring to relent in the steady pace you set.

You couldn’t help but bite back a giddy smile at the sight of the lifeguard already completely blissed out, using your thumb to drag along the leaking tip, trailing the pre-cum along the side of his length. Your wrist flicks gently with each movement, fingertips gliding across his balls teasingly each time your hand reaches the base. He’s panting heavily against your ear, his large hands soothingly rubbing along your signs, occasionally toying with the strings of your bikini. “You’re already feeling so good just from my hand, Satoru… Just imagine what it’d be like with my needy cunt. Mouth, too.” You give the base of his throbbing cock a squeeze as your lips brush against his, making them glisten with saliva before you start to lower yourself onto your knees before the tall lifeguard, long lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him.

His eyes appear even more alive, almost manic as he grins at the sight of you on your knees. You feel them sink into the sand as you lean to happily press your face against the underside of his cock. “Fucking hell..” Satoru mumbles in awe at the heavenly sight of his twitching cock resting against your face. “Bigger than my face, I bet you’re not surprised.” You mumble, lips rubbing gently against his length before you press your tongue flat against it and travel upwards, dragging it along the protruding vein before you reach his leaking tip. His eyes glaze over with the pleasure that washes over him, barely able to focus as your tongue playfully laps at the head of his length, gathering the pre-cum to happily swallow before your wet muscle swirls around the bulbous tip. He tastes so fucking good already, weighing heavy against your tongue alone.

You feel his long fingers gently grip your hair as you continue to just tease, licking along the sides so eagerly as if his cock was your own personal ice cream, pressing sloppy kisses as your hand squeezes the base. “Y/N.” He warns with his grip tightening on your hair, prompting you to whimper. Quickly, you obey his silent order. You wouldn’t dare defy the white-haired lifeguard. No matter how greedy he becomes, you’d give all of yourself to him. Your glistening lips wrap around the bulbous tip, gently suckling on it. It’s hard to smile at the sound of his pleased sigh, watching as he tilts his head back. You didn’t dare look away, sliding your mouth up and down the first few inches of his thick cock, already finding your jaw aching slightly from how wide you had to keep your mouth open.

Satoru is already blissed out. To think that he thought today would be any other day of typical lifeguard duties. Truth be told, he thought he’d have to deal with lost children or carrying citizens on his board to the safety of the shore. He definitely did not expect to watch you for most of his shift and have his mind pump full of filthy fantasies. What’s even more surprising is the mutual attraction and how neither of you cared to do the typical waiting until touching each other. You both yearned for one another since eye contact. Good for him, he thinks. Satoru thinks he deserves a pretty girl on her knees, sucking his big cock. What he couldn’t wait for is to have his own mouth between your legs, desperate to taste you. Satoru is— Well. A lover of eating out, let’s just say.

“Fuuuuck, princess—“ He grunts out as you continue to bob your mouth at a steady pace, the obnoxious slurping up the saliva that threatens to spill not being covered by the waves of the ocean. The day was starting to calm down weather-wise, ready to embrace the evening. You whine, prompting gentle vibrations along his cock and a string of curses to leave his swollen lips, gaze darkening as he looks down at you. You manage to take another inch or two as you slide your lips further down, stretching around the girth. The tip brushed against the back of your throat and you automatically gag, muffled by his throbbing length. “Good girl, look at you. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Satoru pants and with a brief warning by pulling on your hair, he presses firmly against the back of your head. “Take it.” He orders, voice low and breathless.

Your eyes widen as you feel the pressure against the back of your head and you’re unable to reject it from how strong he’s pushing. Not that you even wanted to. You’re an absolute whore when it comes to pleasing the lifeguard. Already, wrapped around his little finger and ready to do as he says. You feel his length slide along your inner cheeks, keeping your jaw as relaxed as you can as he pushes in until the tip of his length pushes past the point of gagging and your throat completely sheaths his cock, leaving the sight of your throat bulging for no one to see but Satoru.

You’re desperately swallowing around his thick cock, drool seeping out from the corners of your lips as you look up at him. You have to breathe heavily through your nose just to have access to oxygen. Satoru closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the pretty sounds of you choking on his cock as the insides of your mouth and throat keep his length feeling snug and warm; his length is surrounded with pleasure that surges up through him. He glances down at you and smirks. You look rather pathetic in an adorable way, squirming against the sand, eyes wide and pretty tears threatening to spill from the rough deep-throating.

Feeling playful, Satoru uses his free hand to pinch your nose, blocking the only access you had for breathing. Your face scrunches up a little, whimpering moans muffled by his length still stuffed down your throat. “You look so cute, princess. Struggling to get air. Shall I give you CPR?” He jokes, tightening his pinch and your head begins to throb from the lack of oxygen you so eagerly need. He’s not a complete asshole, nor entirely selfish and so, he lets go of your nose and begins to guide your mouth along his cock. You inhale deeply through your nose when you have the chance, feeling so light-headed as oxygen rushes back. “Just a bit longer.” He grunts out as his closed fist on your hair moves so your mouth slides up and down his length, faster than your pace before.

Helplessly, your hands grip his toned thighs, just above the signature red shorts as your lips stay stretched around his length, heart racing with joy to be used like this by the lifeguard. The white-haired male makes sure you take every inch until you’re at the base of his cock, the nose often momentarily pressing against his lower stomach. “Just like that, fuck— So good..” He pants, his throbbing cock enjoying the wet pleasure of your mouth, tongue rubbing along the underside. His stomach begins to feel hot and tight, the urge to climax growing and so, refusing to let himself cum before you do; he slides your mouth off completely until there’s an audible pop, followed by a sharp gasp as you breathe in the generous amount of air that was briefly stolen from you.

You break the string of saliva that connected your lips to his cock as you pant heavily, unable to stop your lips from forming a wide grin at the sight of him, giddy that you got to please him so well with just your mouth. “You like it rough, huh?” You manage to rasp out and Satoru lets out a sheepish chuckle, his hand coming down to pet you on the head, hand stroking along your hair. “Honestly, Y/N. I think I’m going to enjoy any kind of way when it’s you. Rough or gentle. Now, c’mere.” He says, taking hold of your hand to tug you up with ease.

You stumble forward, feet sinking in the soft sand and the white-haired lifeguard gently takes hold of your arms to stabilise you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Completely different to how he treated you when your lips were wrapped around his length. Maybe he’s eager to show you that he does have both sides and it makes your heart feel like it’s swimming in shimmering gold. He’s perfect, you couldn’t help but think. You smile against his lips and he’s holding you so tight against him that you feel his cock cushioning between your bodies and your breasts pressing against his chest. He reluctantly pulls away, gaze clouded as he looks down at you. “My turn. I’ve been waiting for this. Especially when I first saw you in your cute bikini..” He trails off, hands snaking up to tease the fabric that barely covers your chest. “So cute..” He murmurs before tugging until the triangle fabric is pulled away and your breasts spill out, free from the flimsy confinement.

“Oh shit.” He blurts out in awe at the sight of your breasts as his large hands come up to cup the squishy flesh and give a gentle squeeze. You feel flustered and look away as a soft whimper escapes from feeling his touch, your face feeling hot. “I love your boobs, so damn pretty..” He murmurs, looking like he’s in some sort of wonderland just from being able to massage your breasts, nice and slow. His thumbs tease your hardened buds, grinning at the sound of your needy whines. You tilt your head up to look at the face of the cliff, briefly wondering how a man’s touch to your breasts could already leave you feeling a sweet daze. Satoru pinches the hardened buds, giving a teasing tug before he leans forward to kiss along your neck, staying bent over you as he does so. His body is close enough for his twitching cock to still stay pressed against you and your wrap your arms around his form to cling onto him for the moment.

“I only met you like two hours ago and I’m already this addicted to you..” You confess through a whisper and if only you knew how the words just boost his ego up high, smiling smugly against your neck. “Mm, maybe we’re just a perfect match. I can feed your addiction and you can feed mine.” Satoru says, tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts. You smile at his words and look off to see— Oh god. A couple is walking along the beach. “S-Satoru! People are approaching.” You squeak out, almost horrified if it wasn’t for the excitement of being caught flooding through you. What would Satoru do? Would he not be ashamed and keep touching you?

“Don’t care.” He mutters, hands pressing your breasts together as he presses sloppy kisses to the soft mounds before he pulls away with an annoyed sigh. “Come here, baby.” The lifeguard says as he glances down at his exposed cock that continues to throb before towards the couple that doesn’t appear like dots in the distance anymore. “Usually I’d shamelessly give them a show but you’re all mine for the evening.” He huffs childishly before his arms suddenly wrap around your head to pull you in. His bigger form presses you up against the cliff face, one hand on the back of your head to act as a cushion. Your eyes widen at the sudden action, almost going cross-eyed as you stare at his muscular chest. Satoru tugs his board shorts up to cover his ass as he keeps you in a tight embrace.

The couple slowly walk along the beach, enjoying the cool breeze and warm sun. They notice the pair of you hiding in the shade of the cliff, looking curiously. Satoru exaggerates a kiss to the top of your head and his hand soothingly rubbing along your back. “Baby, there there. No need to cry. I swear I didn’t take the girl’s number. Not a single one offered to me. You’re the only one I want to date. The only one I want to cherish.” He says, loud enough for the curious couple to hear and they look at you two with smiles, pleased to see another couple being all lovey-dovey. “He must be a lifeguard— Oh how sweet, such a green flag for comforting his girlfriend.” The girl says and the boyfriend merely nods, dragging her along the sand.

You know he’s just pretending and yet, you do find your heart melting a little at the idea of being comforted by Satoru during difficult times. You actually wonder what he’d be like as a genuine partner. You briefly nuzzle your face against his warm chest and fake out loud sobs to fit the act of an upset girlfriend, tightening your arms around him. Satoru continues to watch before he finally loosens his hold. “Good girl, played your part well. For that, I must reward you.” He says lightheartedly and you giggle softly at his words, heart racing from the thrill of nearly being caught. How exhilarating. His lips twist into a smirk, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, whispering. “My turn.”

Your back rests lightly against the cliff as you watch out of curiosity as Satoru drops down to his knees and digs into the sand and at the height of your stomach, he presses kisses, scattering them across your soft skin. “Fucking perfect.” He mumbles, hands ghosting up your legs to toy with the strings of your bikini. At this point, he doesn’t care if the couple decides to walk back. The act is over and he’s ready to devour. No one was going to interrupt what he was really looking forward to. “Spread your legs.” He orders and you timidly shuffle your legs out so they spread slightly, biting down on your lower lip. Satoru lets out a low whistle at the sight of the large damp patch across the red fabric, extending out a finger to gently glide across the bikini, between your folds and you clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle your whimper, already sensitive by his touch.

“To think that I have such power over you, princess. So sensitive, already.” He teases, continuing to rub his finger lightly between your folds, pressing the fabric up between them. Your legs tremble a little when the fabric makes contact with your clit, whining. “Stop teasing, you know how needy I am..” You plead quietly and Satoru’s heart squeezes tight from how cute you are. Fuck. How is he ever going to deny you and frustrate you further? “Alright, since it’s our first time.” He sighs dramatically, fingers swiftly untying the bows that were sitting on your hips.

Your pussy is completely exposed, on display for anyone on the beach, but thankfully it’s just Satoru. He hastily tucks the small bit of fabric into one of his pockets, eyes refusing to leave sight of your cunt that’s already starting to drip and smear your inner thighs with your own slick. One hand tries to shyly cover yourself up, flustered by his gaze. Satoru arches an eyebrow as he looks up at you with his piercing blue eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?” His long fingers wrap around your wrist and force your hand out of the way, tongue slowly dragging along his lips. He’s eager to finally have a taste, except there’s an issue.

He’s too tall. Satoru could bend down further, maybe even lay down and just force you to sit on his face— that does sound like a hot idea, but another idea comes to mind that prompts a small grin to appear across his handsome visage. “Alright, princess. Time to trust me.” He says simply, guiding your hand to rest on top of his head. You innocently tilt your head and look down at the lifeguard with confusion, cunt still exposed and ready for more. You could feel your hole clench with the desire to be filled to the brim. Still, you know better already and that’s to not rush Satoru. Your fingers slide through his silky white hair, heart racing with anticipation as his strong hand now caresses down your legs, squeezing your flesh. “What are you doing…” You ask shyly, watching as he moves your leg over his bare shoulder.

“Use your other hand against the cliff.” He simply replies and despite being puzzled, you raise your free hand above until it presses against the cliff, gripping onto one of the soft jagged rocks. Oh— Oh! Your eyes widen with a mixture of horror and amazement as Satoru swiftly lifts your other leg to rest over his shoulder and he begins to move up, slow and careful as you feel yourself rise to a height you’ve never been at until you find yourself pressed against the cliff, legs over the lifeguard’s shoulders and his strength is forceful enough to keep you positioned comfortably above him.

Satoru now has you in a spot that he deems perfect; face directly in front of your sopping-wet womanhood. You’re in a higher position now, completely stunned by his idea to hold you on his shoulders. His arms wrap around the area of your thighs that aren’t over his shoulders to help keep you stable against the cliff face, nails digging into the flesh. He glances up at you and chuckles at how flustered you look. “Relax, I’m strong. You have two heavenly sights to look at now. The ocean and me.” Satoru says, breath fanning against your pussy and you bring your hand that was pressing against the cliff to his head, both now gripping onto his hair. You trust the lifeguard enough to know that he wouldn’t drop you, nor press you too roughly against the face of the cliff. The perfect balance.

His crystal blue eyes stay fixated, almost going cross-eyed from how close your cunt is to his face and he swears he could start to feel the threat of saliva wanting to dribble out. Your womanhood is even more irresistible up close. Instead, he shifts his hand closer to your womanhood, arm still wrapped snug around your thigh and slides his fingers along your folds before parting them, glancing up at you as your legs quiver against his broad shoulders. “So sensitive.” He mocks lightly, gathering the saliva that gathered in his mouth before he spits directly against your clit, grinning at the sight of his own glob of saliva dribbling down between your slick-covered folds. You tighten your grip on his hair and whimper his name softly. You’ve never met a man so eager to eat you out. Hell, a man who just seems to want to take his time. Even out in the open, with absolutely anyone to walk by and the wind bringing the scent of the ocean towards you both. This lifeguard is definitely something and whatever that ‘something’ is; you want it all to yourself.

Satoru watches with interest as the glob of saliva continues to dribble downwards before he decides to dive his face forward and drag his tongue flat and slow across your pussy, flicking the tip against your throbbing clit. He merely laughs at the sound of your surprised squeal before he repeats the action, still in his sweet teasing move and so naturally, he refuses to pick up the pace. The lifeguard happily laps up your sweet juice with a soft groan, nuzzling his face forward until his nose rubs lightly against the bundle of nerves and you could feel pleasure surging up through you, leaving you feeling hot and your nails drag along his scalp as your lips fall open in near disbelief of how good everything feels.

He manages to peek up at you, lips twisting to form an amused smirk and frankly, there’s a huge boost in his ego just from your reactions alone. The light burn of your nails scratching his scalp causes him to moan your name as his tongue covered in your slick, travels up to swirl around your clit teasingly, pressing the wet muscle against it, feeling it throb. You taste fucking perfect to him. So sweet and clearly easily aroused from how much slick your pussy seems to produce, but it didn’t stop him.

Satoru is relentless when it comes to eating you out. His face stays pressed firmly between your quivering thighs, the tip of his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to the sensitive area. You feel hot in the face just from the obnoxious slurping sounds but his firm hold on your thighs prevents you from closing them. You sit there, body trembling and muscles tensing as you take it all in. “Ah— ‘Toru, feels so—“ Your own words were cut off by a whine as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and he presses in, pressing a kiss to your clit before his tongue slides along your folds. He continues to balance you on his shoulders, using one arm to hoist you up a little so his tongue can make contact with your entrance, chuckling at the sound of your breathless moans spilling out of your lips.

“You taste so good. Best I’ve ever tasted, princess. How am I to not have you whenever I want? Doesn’t seem fair to me.” Satoru says, tongue clicking in feigning disappointment before he prods along your tight entrance. This time, he allows your thighs to clench to the sides of his face as you whimper. “Have me whenever you want.” You slur out, body feeling so tingly and hot as his tongue prods gently against your entrance. It’s hot to witness you fall apart just from his mouth and leaves his heart pumping with excitement at the thought of you falling apart when he finally gives you what you both desperately crave; his cock. Still, Satoru is a fan of riling you up and taking his sweet time. Even with his cock aching in pain from still being hard with no pleasant contact of your mouth like before.

The lower half of his face is dripping with your mess, unwrapping one of his arms slow and cautious from around your thigh and tightening his hold on the other. You whine in question and he only gently shushes you, hand creeping up in front of his body before the long fingers meet your pussy properly this time. If it wasn’t Satoru that you already find that you deeply trust; you just know you’d throw a fit if some other tried to lift you up and keep you in this rather dangerous position. With a glimmer of concern, all you had to do was look at his ridiculously hot muscles to know that he was not going to drop you any time soon. His fingers keep your slick-covered folds spread wide, briefly flashing you a grin with your juices dripping from his face before he moves in to caress your hole.

You strangle on a moan as you feel the wet muscle push past your entrance, slowly licking on just the inside of your tight heat, tongue rubbing against your warm velvety walls that clench around it. With this angle, Satoru’s nose nudges against your clit as he moves his head forward to lick nice and slow within you. It’s impossible to not squirm with how sensitive you are; bare back rubbing cautiously against the face of the cliff and feeling his hold on you tightening in warning to not move so much. “It’s hard... You make me feel so hot and tingly.” You whine your complaint and Satoru merely snorts against your cunt as his tongue teasingly pumps in and out and despite having a very long tongue, he could only reach so far.

Your clouded gaze briefly scans the sand of the beach to see not a single person in sight as the white-haired lifeguard continues his teasing in an unforgiving manner. No rest to your needy pussy that continues to drip mess on his eager face. “So fucking sweet..” He sighs out happily, tongue once more dragging up between your folds to meet your clit. You unintentionally tighten your thighs around the sides of his face as you now realise his fingers crept up to caress along your quivering hole, panting softly. “Please..” You mumble, already craving so much more than his pretty fingers inside of you. It’s as if he could read your mind because he merely shakes his head, the tips of his hair tickling your inner thighs.

“Princess, I don’t care if we’re in public or how needy you get. I’m still going to take my time.” He says, words muffled against your cunt and despite feeling so floaty already from the pleasure that washes over you as if you’re in the ocean; you still have enough focus to roll your eyes and have your swollen lips form a small pout. “Bit selfish, don’t you think?” You huff out your retaliation and are swiftly met with a firm slap to your thigh, prompting a surprised yelp as the stinging sensation spreads across your skin. Your hand comes up to pitifully try to hide the sound as you look down at the lifeguard between your legs. “Yeah, and? Doesn’t look like you have a problem with my selfishness. Especially when I..” He trails off, deciding on a little bit of no mercy as he presses the tips of his two digits against your tight entrance before with little force, he slides them right in.

Completely and easily with how aroused you really are. Your pussy has been practically drenched since the first kiss and so his long fingers are lovingly greeted with the velvety warmth of your walls squeezing tight around the new invasion. They reached further than just the tip of his tongue. You could feel how long they are as he begins to slowly set a pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your tightness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit that continues to pulsate from the contact. Whimpering moans easily spill from your parted lips, head tilting back against the cliff face as you succumb to the absolute bliss you feel rush through you.

Satoru’s head tilts up as well to admire the pretty sight of your chest rising and falling from your needy pants and your face scrunching up as he angles his fingers with each thrust until you gasp sharply and weakly grip his hair. “Bingo.” He jokes lightly, tongue continuing to swirl and flick against the sensitive bud as he slowly grinds his fingers deep inside and against the sweet spot. The wet sounds of your pussy only encourage him to pick up the pace of his fingering. Your inner walls squeeze tightly around his long digits, eyebrows furrowing in almost disbelief as you feel his fingers slowly stretch you out as they continue rubbing against the sweet spot.

Fuck, it all just feels so good. Every time you feel that hot flush of pleasure racing through you, you can’t stop your toes from curling and crying out for the lifeguard. The white-haired male thinks it’s a miracle that he’s able to even last this long before stuffing your tight cunt full of his thick cock. Especially after a brief taste of pleasure when your pretty lips were wrapped around him but, maybe it’s because he’s discovered just how fun it really is to tease you. To have your legs over his shoulders and trust his strength to hold you up against the cliff, the sun slowly setting behind him as his mouth devours you completely, fingers causing sweet squelching sounds as he pumps them inside of your tightness. It’s all too good in his eyes. Even before using his cock, Satoru knows he’s going to struggle if he doesn’t get his daily fix of you now. Hopefully, you’ll agree to see more of him. Besides, pleasure aside? He thinks you’re pretty cute.

“Satoru— Best lifeguard in existence, ah… Please? Wan’ more.” You plead breathlessly as you feel his third finger tease around the rim of your stretched entrance. Fingering feels good. It leaves you all warm and tingly but, you want more. Need it. You need his— You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the lifeguard laugh at your form of begging, pushing the two of his fingers against your tight walls slowly until you whine in response and finally, Satoru decides to give you what you want. “Alright, Miss Needy.” He says and you feel him start to cautiously guide your legs to slide off of his shoulders and your hands frantically come up to grip onto jagged rocks but before there was even a threat of a fall, Satoru’s strong arms wrap around your body and he lowers you to the ground, feet sinking into the warm sand and getting in between your toes.

You lean up with the intention to give him a sweet kiss but Satoru merely smirks before his hands firmly grasp your shoulders. “Now now, princess. Kissing can come later. You’re desperate for my cock, no?” He teases lightly, pressing against your shoulders as he forcefully moves you until you find yourself stumbling. With a playful pout but an eagerness to obey, you shuffle your feet in the sand until you’re turned around, curiosity growing on just how exactly he wants you positioned. This is all up to him, after all. The one who chose such a risky spot in public. Against a cliff. You still truly couldn’t wrap your head around it but, it’s exciting. So thrilling that your heart races.

You let a soft squeak when his large hand grips the back of your neck and he suddenly pushes you down. Without even needing to tell you, your hands come up frantically to make contact with the cliff, hands pressing against the aged rocks. “Good girl, you caught on.” Satoru praises, voice low and breathless. You’re bending over, legs trembling with anticipation and all you can focus on is his overwhelming presence behind you. You don’t even need to glance his way to know he’s towering above you.

Satoru’s pearly white clench together to prevent sounds from escaping as he admires the gorgeous sight before himself and, no. It wasn’t the ocean that was behind him. Nor the sight of families having fun on the beach that he stands guard over. Not the park up in the distance or dolphins appearing amongst the waves. He’s almost numb to those sights from having to come to work daily as a lifeguard but, this? This is a sight he could never become numb to. The sight of you bent over before him, body trembling and feet shifting in the sand as you keep your pretty ass on display for him. Fuck, he could practically see your pussy dripping from where he stands and your juices smeared across your inner thighs. Just like how his lower face is still covered in the sweetness that he refuses to wipe away.

You whine softly, almost becoming frustrated from the lack of both touch and cock inside of you. Satoru merely grins at your whining, large hands caressing gently along your bare sides, toying with the strings of your top bikini. “Such a needy little thing you are..” He says, hands coming down to firmly grip your waist as he steps forward, pressing his bare cock against your ass. You could feel it throb against your ass cheek, pre-cum slowly dripping onto you before he grinds slowly to smear the few droplets across your flesh. The lifeguard grips the base of his cock before playfully slapping it against your ass and eagerly you wiggle your ass back against his throbbing length.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, endeared by your eagerness before he finally positions his length between your dripping folds. “You do realise I don’t have a condom, right? We can stop if you want me to.” The white-haired male expresses despite the light pleasure he feels from his length dragging along between your folds, feeling your sweet slick coating his length. You feel your hole already clench around nothing as if your body is begging to be filled up. “Wan’ you in me. Now.” You huff impatiently, feet shuffling out in the sand to spread your legs further.

“Going to have to teach you manners later.” Satoru says, though pleased by your ‘subtle’ desperation and so with his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, he moves to position himself until the bulbous tip of his cock rests against your entrance. Not bothering to wait to confirm with you again, the lifeguard finally presses the tip of his length against your hole and with little force, the rim of your hole finally stretches around the head of his length and your pussy greets Satoru’s slowly sinking cock happily.

The sounds of your strained mewls lace with his deep groans as you feel his thickness slowly stretch out your inner walls and despite the amount of slickness your cunt excitedly produced, you still feel the lingering pain of being stretched out by something so big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever experienced before. Satoru feels breathless as your velvety walls clench around him, wrapping so snugly and tight around his throbbing cock as if eager to keep him inside of you, still slowly sinking in. Satoru tries to take his time pushing in to allow you to adjust but it’s as if your walls are eagerly gripping onto him, pulling him further and further.

Satoru completely bottoms out, throbbing erection completely sheathed as he pants softly, trying to contain himself as the pleasure pulses through him from feeling your inner walls squeeze around his length entirely. Your eyes are wide, barely able to focus on the details of the cliff and only on how wide he stretched your cunt out with ease. You could feel your own mess slowly dripping out despite practically being stuffed full and plugged up. The stretch hurts, stinging at first as you both try to just adjust to the new sensation. You bite back a soft whimper, head hanging forward and eyes closing tightly. Satoru soothingly rubs along your side, hoping to coax you into relaxing.

“Come on, baby. This is nothing compared to a jellyfish sting.” He says, pleased to get the reaction he wanted, which was you laughing at the silliness of his words. The lifeguard smiles behind you, red shorts down to his knees and your bikini bottoms hanging out of the pocket. Thankfully, with his touch, you find your body relaxing before him and the painful stretch dulls down until there’s not even a hint of it anymore. Truth be told, it was a pain you found yourself liking because of what it meant. The handsome lifeguard is inside of you. “Nn, move..” You mumble quietly and it’s a good thing that Satoru is so fixated on you because not even the wind along the beach could hide your words from him.

Satoru, not wanting to actually harm you; starts off slow. He slowly pulls back, his length sliding along your warm velvety walls until he pushes back in. He doesn’t go the entire way, just the first few inches but it’s enough to leave your toes curling in the sand and his name spilling from your lips in the form of a lewd moan. “How are you so tight—“ Satoru choked out, voice strained as you squeezed around his slowly thrusting length. He doesn’t dare pick up the pace, the pair of you melting into the pleasurable sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you and fuck, you swear you could feel even the details of his cock against your inner walls, thick and protruding veins.

You deliberately squeeze around him and instantly, Satoru knows what you’re silently pleading for. Crystal blue eyes widening with manic and lips forming a small grin, the lifeguard begins to pick up the pace of his thrusts, deepening them further. Your swollen lips stay parted as needy whines and moans of the lifeguard’s name escape, feeling each deep thrust that sends a surge of ecstasy through your entire body, nails grazing against the rocks. You could hear him pant softly, his cock sliding all the way out before he slams back in relentlessly, refusing to give you time to relax before he slams his thickness back inside of you.

“Fucking hell—“ He grunts out as you squeeze around him, his hand ghosting along your back before he swats your ass cheek firmly. A squeal escapes from feeling the sudden sting of pain, pushing back eagerly onto his throbbing cock. It feels beyond good to feel the way he stretches your walls out and fills you to the very brim. Truly stuffed full of his cock every time he pushes in deep. His hand reaches out to grip your hair, keeping your head tilted back. His other hand lands smack after smack against your ass, feeling your inner velvety walls squeeze around his thick cock with each impact and you whimper from the stinging pain that laces with the sweet pleasure of his thrusting cock.

Both of you nearly go still from hearing a sudden chime fill the surrounding air. Satoru’s phone is ringing. “Fuck—“ He says, hastily stuffing his hand into the pocket of his red board shorts to grab the vibrating object and check the contact, all the while his hips never stop moving. He refuses to let some call get in the way of both his pleasure and your own. Besides, it’s cute to see the way you clasp your hand over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds. He answers the call and presses it to his ear.

“Yeah, Suguru?”

His hips slam forward until his cock is entirely sheathed again and there’s the lewd sound of your juices squelching around his thickness. He’s breathless as he listens to the other voice. “Ah— Y/N from before left her bag with her friends and they’re wondering where she is?” He repeats, unable to stop himself from smirking down at your bent-over body. Your eyes widen at his words, your face feeling flushed. Fuck, you did forget your bag and that includes your phone. You whimper, his fingers tightening the grip on your hair. “She’s here with me… Do they want to talk to her? Alright, that’s fine with me.” He says, voice sounding so sickly sweet as he dangles the phone in front of you. “Go on.” He says, slowly sliding his length out of your tight cunt.

You reach with a trembling hand, heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the thought of having to be on the phone when the lifeguard’s delicious cock pistons in and out of you; hard and fast. “H-Hello?” You manage to breathe out, desperately holding back the delighted squeal that wanted to escape as he grinds deep inside of you, prompting electrifying pleasure to course through your very being.

“Y/N? Where are you? You never came back with that lifeguard after you got stung. Are you okay?” You have to hold the phone slightly away from your ear to prevent your friends from hearing your heavy pants, feeling Satoru’s hand snake around to teasingly rub against your sensitive clit. Fuck, the sadist is having too much fun with this. “I’m— I’m okay!” You squeak in response, thighs closing in on the male’s intrusive hand. Your body is flushed with heat, swimming in the pleasure that his sliding length blesses you with. “I’ll get my bag later—“

“Tell them to give it to Suguru and he’ll leave it at the tower.”

You could barely process the words but you can definitely sense the fact that Satoru is enjoying this a bit too much. You muffle a whimper against your shoulder, eyes rolling and phone threatening to fall from your hand. “If you could ah.. nn— Leave it with Suguru? He— He’ll!! Satoru is asking Suguru to take it to the tower, I’ll get it later.” You manage to spill out between your heavy pants, voice high-pitched as you pathetically try to hide the evidence of your cunt being fucked hard. His fingers teasingly pinch your clit, watching as you tremble beneath him and he chuckles lowly, smoothing his hand just up slightly to apply pressure against your lower stomach. He could feel the way your stomach bulges slightly every time he pushes in deep and you bite back a sob, unable to contain how good it really feels to have him rapidly sliding his length in and out of your hot core.

There’s suspicious silence over the phone, quiet murmuring before your friend on the replies. “Okay, um— Hope you’re having fun, we’ll leave it with Suguru!” She says and you could hear the rushed movement of the phone being handed around and you barely managed to hold it up for Satoru to take, your head hanging forward as you whimper. He takes it with ease, despite his own body feeling like hot jelly as your heavenly walls keep a snug tight fit around his thickness. He holds the phone between his shoulder and ear, hands firmly gripping onto your waist as he slams into your cunt, causing you to cry out loudly, body pushing forward until your own cheek rests against the back of your hand that’s pathetically trying to hold you up by gripping one of the jagged rocks of the cliff.

“Mm? Oh, is it that obvious?” Satoru laughs in response to whatever Suguru is saying on the phone. At this point, you’re too much in your own world to give a damn about anything else. “Couldn’t resist such a pretty girl, you know that. Can I focus on what I’m doing now? Yeah. Uhuh. We’ll pick it up later. Thanks, Suguru.” He pauses. You feel him pausing for a moment, only his leaking tip nudged inside of you. “You’re the best, ah— I might tell you all about it later, I know you’re eager. What’s that? Bye!” Satoru practically sings his own cockiness into the phone before hanging up on his own best friend, tucking the object back into his pocket.

“Sorry about that, princess. Now, where were we?” He grunts out, trimmed nails digging into the flesh of your waist. You didn’t even need to see to know his lips were twisting to form his sinister smirk, leaning back far enough to inspect his own cock. It’s glistening with your juice, slowly dripping and fuck, it only arouses him further. You whine, wishing he’d return to fucking you properly, especially so you could forget the realisation that both his co-worker and your friends know what’s currently happening. You sucked at hiding how you were feeling, but in your defence; he was slamming into you hard enough that skin slapping against skin would have been heard through the small device.

“Fuuuuuuck me…” You plead, wiggling your hips back and managing to sink back onto an inch or two before Satoru shivers at the sweet feeling of you squeezing back around him. “You’re such a slut for my cock.” Satoru teases, feeling rather smug as tightens his grip on your waist to return to the steady pace of his thrusts, eager to pound into your tight hole. His crystal blue eyes roll at the sensation, white strands of hair falling over his eyes as his head falls forward, struggling to keep himself together. You just feel so fucking good around him.

You both are resisting the urge to reach climax, desperate to drag this out. Even as the sun begins to finally set and the sky darkens. Neither of you cared for anything but being with each other in the moment. That and how he roughly pounds into you. Not even a hint of a pause as his cock drills in and out, the lewd sounds of your juices squelching with each time his length enters you, balls slapping up against you. It’s a relief no one is taking walks like the previous couple before you are screaming for the heavens above and the white-haired lifeguard is eating it up. Even the stinging pain of his skin harshly meeting yours.

“Ah, ‘toru! Nn— Feels so—“ You cry out in ecstasy, stomach already starting to feel hot and tight with the urge of an orgasm growing more and more. You’re so blissfully fucked out that your mind couldn’t even form thoughts. Your body could only focus on the constant high, walls clenching around his length as he dragged himself out, only to push back into the brim. “Feels so good, huh?” Satoru pants out, his length throbbing harder than before. “Fuck, Y/N— in or out?” He manages to grunt out, hips stuttering as his own sensitivity begins to creep up on him. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what he meant and with a loud whimper, you tilt your head back to meet his hot gaze. deliberately squeezing around his thrusting length to send the message.

You want every drop of his cum inside of you. You didn’t care if it was rather greedy on the first time or if it made you selfish. You want him to breed you, like that’s exactly what you were made for. Besides, it’d just feel so nice to be able to feel full. The message was loud and clear despite no words actually leaving your lips and Satoru is thrilled to have permission; perhaps he was desperately hoping you’d agree because once his cock was stuffed deep inside of you, Satoru just knew that he wanted it this way and naturally, luck is always on Satoru’s side. He gets what he secretly wants.

His nails drag hot across your flesh before he snakes his arms around your trembling body, pressing his front down against your back and he embraces you rather lovingly from behind. Satoru grinds slow and deep, refusing to even pull an inch of his throbbing cock out. He wants to stay inside your tight warmth that squeezes around him. One hand travels down to slide two fingers between your folds, deciding to double the pleasure you feel by caressing your clit with the pads of his fingers, slowly rubbing in a circular motion. “Oh— Oh fuck..” You gasp sharply as his length rubs against your sweet spot and feel your sensitive clit throb beneath his touch. You couldn’t hold back any longer. Even if you want to hold out a little longer, your body refuses.

Hard waves of ecstasy crash over your body, thighs squeezing before shaking violently through the sudden, intense orgasm. You cum hard around his thrusting cock and it’s like your mind is just wiped clean of everything as your lips stay parted to let out the string of cries laced with lewd mewls of the lifeguard’s name, fingertips scraping against the rocks of the cliff face. You’re truly oblivious to how your own body reacts as you drown happily in the constant waves of pleasure that crash over your trembling body. Sweat causes strands of hair to stick to the sides of your temples, eyes rolling back and feeling the hot, sweet tingles spread across you, starting from your dripping cunt. Your hot walls clench repeatedly around his thickness as if so hungry for something. Desperate to milk out everything he’s holding back.

Satoru’s own mind short-circuits from the sudden orgasm that takes hold of you and it’s like your tight pussy is clinging, refusing for him to pull out. Even as his hands attempt to soothe you, Satoru’s hips slam forward for the final time and his own body is flushed with the searing heat of an orgasm. It’s like every fibre of his being loosens up as the bulbous tip of his cock buried deep inside of you, shoots out every sticky rope of cum, painting your inner walls white. His forehead rests against your shoulder, hot breath fanning against your skin as he pants your name out. It feels like heaven, to him. To have you wrapped around him as he pumps you full of his cum. He could feel his tense muscles finally relaxing and his length pulsating inside of you. He sighs out softly, pleasantly buzzed from experiencing the momentary high.

“Good girl..” He murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your shoulder as he continues to hold your weak body against him, hips stuttering as he slowly thrusts to aid in riding out both of your orgasms. You whimper happily, tears in your eyes from the intensity of your orgasm. Truth be told, if he wasn’t holding you up, you know you would have collapsed from weak legs. You continue to tremble gently, inner walls slowly clenching around the male’s length. It feels so damn good to be so full. Reluctantly, Satoru begins to slide his soft length out until he notices his sticky mess spilling out of your stretched hole that now squeezes around nothing. “Why..” You whine your complaint and a breathless chuckle escapes the lifeguard. “As much as I’d love the idea of staying inside of you, I can’t just keep you outside.” He reminds you, long fingers gathering up the strings of cum that dribble out, noticing that it’s already mixed with your own juices.

Fuck. Feeling daring enough, Satoru moves his long fingers towards your face. Your cheek is resting against the cliff when you notice the approach and with a quick side glance his way; you obediently wrap your lips around his digits, happily sucking off the mess. You moan softly at the saltiness laced with your own sweetness, slowly sliding your mouth up and down every bit of his fingers, slurping up the saliva that now threatens to spill. Your eyelids feel heavy from the previous orgasm and still coming down from that sweet high; you slowly blink and savour the taste that fills your mouth. Satoru gulps, completely entranced by the filthy sight of you sucking on his fingers.

“Fucking hell, you are one lewd princess.” He comments as he watches your tongue slowly drag up between his fingers, leaving behind a string of saliva as you pull away, flustered by his words. You’re still in a daze from the orgasm he practically blessed you with. You never really experienced it so intensely before. “It’d be a waste..” You mumble shyly, feeling the last of his cum smearing across your inner thighs as you rub them together. Even your clit still throbs slowly, too sensitive for any kind of touch. The lifeguard smiles, endeared by your words. “Uhuh. Well, if you ever need more. I’m happy to give it.” Satoru snorts, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders. It’s a miracle that you’re still standing and you know it’s because he’s holding you up as he guides you to turn around and face him.

You meet his piercing blue eyes, finally leaning up to get that kiss you tried to steal before. Satoru grins lightly, finding it cute that you’re still so needy despite just being fucked roughly against a cliff. He lowers himself to press a kiss to your lips, hastily tucking his cock back inside his shorts in a pitiful attempt to stop himself from getting hard. It’d hurt and he knows how irresistible you are in his eyes now. “Come on. Might as well go get your bag.” He says, pausing as he blindly tugs out your bikini bottoms that were stuffed into his pocket. With a gentle push against your shoulder, you understood that Satoru was signalling for you to briefly rely on the cliff face to hold yourself up as he lowered himself to his knees, groaning.

“Even I feel like jelly, what did you do to me?” Satoru jokes, inspecting the bottoms. Surely you tie the bows first? What do girls do with these? You bite back an amused smile at his confusion but say nothing, perhaps enjoying the sight of the usual cocky lifeguard being on his knees and looking like he needs to depend on someone. Satoru with the confidence of thinking he’s right, swiftly ties the side strings into bows and he brings it towards you. You grip his broad shoulders as you carefully step into the loops before you feel the male drag them up along your weak legs until they’re once again covering you.

“Such a gentleman. Will I get to see that side of you more?” You giggle softly, hand playfully ruffling up the male’s soft white hair before he stands up. Satoru, feeling playful, scoops your hand up with his and brings your hand up to kiss each knuckle dramatically. “Mwah. Of course, princess. Only you get such honours of this hot lifeguard taking care of you.” He says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. Your heart still flutters and not wanting the already developing feelings to be obvious, you pinch his cheek.

“That’s so cute of you, Satoru. First, you save me from a jellyfish sting. Then, you fuck me. Really good. And now, you kiss my knuckles. I really am spoiled.” You sigh out dramatically, caressing his cheek with the pad of your thumb and he tilts his head to press a kiss to your palm, eyes closing momentarily. “Only fair. You let me fuck you and it was really—“ He pauses, unable to think of a word and despite your hopeful gaze upon him, he merely smiles. “Stop distracting me. Bag.” He repeats, fingers adjusting your bikini top to cover you properly.

Naturally, you pout and roll your eyes from him not finishing his words, still leaning against the cliff. You watch him intently as he finds his sunglasses in the sand, tossing them into his backpack before zipping it up. “But, mister lifeguard..” You trail off, dramatically fanning yourself as your long lashes flutter. “I don’t think I can walk. You fucked me too good and my legs are weak. That and… the jellyfish sting.” You say, glancing at the part of your leg that is still bandaged up. Instantly, Satoru holds his hand up to stop you, shaking his head. “Ah, ah. Do you really think I’d let you walk at all? Who do you think I am?” He says, lips forming a playful pout.

Your cheeks start to hurt from grinning too much as you watch the lifeguard squat down low before you, hands coming back and gesturing for you to climb on. “You really do spoil me.” You giggle, feeling genuinely thankful towards Satoru because truthfully, he fucked you that good. You think your entire body is going to feel all gooey and weak for the rest of the night. You lean off the cliff, dramatically falling until your front lands against him, chest pressing against his toned back. You’re careful to not put all your weight, not that he cares and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

You couldn’t see the soft smile that graced his visage as he wrapped his arms beneath your knees and hoisted you up with ease, carrying you comfortably on his back and your legs dangle freely. Briefly, he leans forward. “Can you carry my backpack? It’s not heavy.” He says and you reach just in front of him to hook your fingers through the loop on top, holding it against his front body and he stands up. Satoru begins to walk in the direction you both originally came, taking his time. You glance towards the ocean, seeing the very last glimpse of the setting sun. You didn’t realise that it was even getting dark. You were so lost in the world of pleasure, thanks to the very same lifeguard who ‘saved’ you from a nasty sting. You tuck your head between his shoulder and neck, lips brushing lightly against his hot skin. “So, dinner and round two?” You whisper, breath ghosting along his neck. You could still feel his cum slowly leaking out. Satoru’s feet stumble in the sand, surprised by your words before his lips twist to form a grin, blue eyes becoming even more alive. With an eager nod and his arms tightening around your legs.

“Hold on, Y/N. I’m getting you out of here. Fast.”

And with those words spoken, Satoru begins to pick up the pace. You’re stunned by his high stamina, but it also leaves you feeling giddy from witnessing his excitement. You smile against his neck as you hug him tightly. You didn’t expect any of this today but, you’re already hungry for the future. You tighten your fingers on his backpack and press multiple kisses to his neck as you laugh.

“Bring it on.”

#fae's writing #fae; writing. #fae; satoru. #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #jjk scenario #jjk writing #gojo scenario #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo writing #anime scenario #anime smut #minors dni #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #female reader #reader insert #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x y/n #tw public

[bedsyandco]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄

꒰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ — bestfriend!reader x will smith

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ — in which will’s gf (lauren - sorry if ur named lauren) doesn’t treat him right and you’re waiting for Will to realize he belongs with you! you could probably already tell but it’s based on you belong with me by taylor swift!

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 ꒱ — unedited writing🫣 fluff. language. I think that’s it, as always lmk if I should add something else!!

꒰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ꒱ — finally getting back into writing fics cause school is less stressful! thank you for being patient! as always feedback or criticism is appreciated! i hope you like it <3

꒰ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ꒱ — 1.97K

꒰ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ꒱ — @cixrosie

You open the door to your apartment, kicking your converse off and lining them up neatly on the shoe rack at the front door. You sigh when you see two pairs of shoes lying on the floor, bending down to pick those up and placing them there as well. You immediately go to your room and change into comfy clothes quickly, wearing shorts and one of Will’s shirts. A small smile forms on your face when you hear laughter coming from your living room, walking towards the sound and being met with a familiar sight. Gabe, Ryan and Will lounging on your couch.

“Hey, look who’s finally here!” Ryan yells and you grab a slice of pizza from the box before taking your seat on the same couch as Will, placing your feet on his lap and his hands automatically fall to your calves, caressing them softly.

“You don’t get to complain that I’m late when you two left your shoes laying around again,” you say and Will smiles, shaking his head, knowing what a big pet peeve that was for you.

“How do you know it’s ours and not Will’s?” Ryan asks

“First of all, I know every pair of shoes he owns and he doesn’t own the ones that were laying around. Secondly, Will would never let his shoes get that dirty, it’s the pretty boy in him. One speckle of mud and he has to wash them. And lastly, he knows better than that.” you say and Will squeezes your knee in retaliation for the “pretty boy” comment.

“What are we watching?” you ask

“IT,” Gabe answers and you immediately protest.

“Absolutely not,” you say and Gabe laughs.

“It’s not even that scary,” Gabe says

“It’s not scary, it’s just creepy. I hate clowns, they shouldn’t exist, especially not to amuse kids,” you mumble and grab a pillow when Gabe starts the movie anyway. It was his turn to pick and if you were gonna make him watch all your movies then you had to watch his.

Movie nights were something you and Will started when you were still in highschool, and the tradition carried on to college. You can’t really remember when Gabe and Ryan joined in but they haven’t missed one since.

You miss half the movie anyway since your attention is focused solely on Will, as it is most of the time. He looked good tonight, but then again he always looks good. He was wearing grey sweats and a tight fitted white T-shirt, his hair a little messy as if he took a nap earlier and just came over without fixing it. His hand was still absentmindedly tracing patterns on your leg and you shivered when his hand slipped to the inside of your thigh.

“You cold?” he asks and you nod, not wanting him to know you were shivering because of something else.

“C’mere,” he says and you move closer as he grabs his hoodie he took off earlier, pulling it over your head.

“Thank you,” you say as you cuddle into his side more, his arm around you and hand resting on your hip.

You spend the next thirty minutes or so there, nearly falling asleep when Will’s phone rings. You sit up a little as he reaches for his phone, letting out a big sigh as he stands up and answers the call.

“Hey baby,” Will answers and your chest tightens at the soft way he speaks to her.

“I’m watching a movie with the boys and yn,” he says and lets out a big sigh at whatever she’s saying.

“Yeah okay, I’ll be there soon,” Will says and you frown when he starts collecting his stuff.

“Where are you going?” Gabe asks, beating you to it.

“Lauren invited people over to her place tonight and apparently we’re hosting together and people have been asking for me,” Will explains, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

“She didn’t tell you earlier?” Ryan questions

“No. I told her I was busy tonight,” Will says and Ryan scoffs

“And she still hosted it tonight? Without you knowing…and now she’s telling you to leave?” Gabe asks, trying to get Will to see how weird that is but he just shrugs.

“I don’t know man, she probably just forgot. I’m fucking exhausted though. I gotta go,” Will says but stops right beside you on his way to the door, bending over so he can speak softly to you.

“You’re not upset with me are you? I hate when you’re upset with me,” Will says and you shake your head.

“No, it’s all good. Do what you gotta do,” you say

“Rain check on movie night? Maybe next week it can be just you and me, like old times. Feel like I haven’t spent much time with you since these two are always around,” Will says, kissing your cheek before making his way out of your apartment. You’d have liked to tell him that it wasn’t because of Gabe and Ryan that you guys weren’t spending as much time together, it was because of her.

Will met Lauren at the first tailgate you guys had attended at BC, after that they went on a few dates and after a few dates they were together.

It wasn’t one of those classic situations where you were in love with your best friend and hated every girl he paid attention to but you. It was about the fact that she treated him terribly, and he deserved so much better. And maybe it did hurt your feelings a little bit that he was dating someone like that. Because if he was dating a girl that gave him all these things that you couldn’t because she was just that great then maybe you’d understand why it wasn’t you he was dating. But you didn’t understand why he would be with someone like Lauren, when you were right here, where you’ve always been.

“I’m not the only one who doesn’t like her right?” Gabe asks when Will is gone.

“I can’t stand her. She’s so rude and she treats him so badly. I don’t know what he sees in her honestly,” Ryan says with a frown on his face and they both look at you expectantly.

“I mean as long he’s happy I don’t have anything to say,” you say and both of them scoff

“He’s obviously not happy. All of us can see that, you probably most of all with how well you know him,” Ryan says and you just flick your attention back to the TV.

“When are you two gonna stop pretending you don’t have feelings for each other and just get together?” Gabe asks

“He doesn’t have feelings for me, if he did he would have acted on them a long time ago,” you say

“What if he was holding back cause he didn’t know if you felt the same way?” Ryan asks and you just shake your head.

“It doesn’t even matter now. He’s got a girlfriend and whether we like her or not, we still have to respect that,” you say, your tone making it clear that you didn’t wanna talk about this anymore.

-

The next time you saw Will was later that week, you were sitting at a table at your favourite café, reading a book when he took the seat across from you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, immediately noting the annoyed expression on his face.

“The beanpot is next week,” Will says

“I know. Everyone’s been talking about it for weeks, I had four people corner me in the hallway this morning asking if I could hook them up with tickets cause it’s already sold out and they know i’m friends with you,” you say and Will frowns, taking your hand in his and rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

“They cornered you? Who?” he asks, the furrow between his brows deepening

“It doesn’t matter, Ryan took care of it, but the point is trust me everyone knows the beanpot’s coming up,” you say and Will’s frown doesn’t disappear but he allows you to divert from that topic

“Not everyone apparently. Lauren told her parents I’d be coming up to New York to meet them that weekend,” Will says and your jaw drops

“She did not. Why? How can she not know? You’ve told her like 20 times, you even bought her and her 50 friends tickets to go,” you say exasperated and Will sighs shaking his head

“I don’t know, but she wants me to tell coach I’m missing it and still go to New York,” he says and your jaw drops even further if that’s possible

“Oh my God, she’s insane. There’s no way you’d miss any game, but especially not the beanpot games. You’ve been dreaming of playing in the beanpot since you were a little kid,” you say and Will smiles at you

“Yeah that’s what I told her and we got into a pretty big argument about it. It’s okay I know she’s not that into hockey so maybe she really did just forget,” Will says, the frown back on his face

“You’re not that into reality TV, or dance, or any of the things she’s into really, but you still make time to see her or do those things with her, or at least remember when it happens because what’s important to her is important to you. That’s just what a good partner does,” you say and Will nods

“Yeah, it’s fine though,” he says but you know him better than that. You can obviously tell it really hurt his feelings that she forgot and then she argued about it with him too? What was he doing with a girl like that?

“For what it’s worth, I’m really excited to watch you play in the beanpot. I know you’re gonna do amazing and I think it’s the coolest thing ever that you get to do something you’ve dreamed about doing for so long. And I’m so excited to be there and cheer you on,” you say and Will grins, bring your hand up to his lips to press a kiss against your palm.

-

Later that night you were laying in bed, watching a show on your laptop, your eyes drooping closed every few seconds before you peeled them open again, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Will, it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?” you ask as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

“I called my mom, and I told her about stuff with Lauren and you know what she told me?” he asks and you shake your head.

“She said I'm with the wrong girl. That the right girl would listen to me, and support me, understand me. Make me laugh when I feel like I’m gonna cry. The girl who knows all my favourite songs, and I tell about my dreams. The one who feels like home. So I went to see Lauren, and I broke it off and then I sat there for about three hours because I realised that the girl I’m looking for is you. And I feel like an idiot because you’ve always been there, and all this time how could I not know that you’re the one I belong with,” Will says and you take a deep breath trying to keep your tears from falling as you let out a little laugh

“I’ve been giving you the biggest heart eyes the last three years, it’s about time you noticed,” you joke, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his forehead against yours.

“Well can I be your oblivious boyfriend, instead of your oblivious best friend?” Will asks teasingly and you nod, connecting your lips to his in a soft, long-overdue kiss.

#will smith hockey x reader #will smith hockey fic #will smith hockey x yn #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic

[undercovercameron]

sunspent

summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.

notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2542

The whole day had been perfect. 

You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck. 

The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much. 

Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you. 

The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you. 

It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms. 

“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”

You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight. 

“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)

“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig. 

“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty. 

“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”

“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.

“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”

You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist. 

“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean. 

You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer. 

“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser. 

“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever. 

“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face. 

“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him. 

“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders. 

“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”

“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man. 

“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down. 

This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes. 

Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps. 

“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes. 

“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it. 

“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.  

“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close. 

“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side. 

He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way. 

“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish. 

He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately. 

His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it. 

His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again. 

“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”

You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit. 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt. 

“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be. 

“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree. 

You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no. 

Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”

“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins. 

This time you can and do roll your eyes. 

“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”

Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”

“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick. 

He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist. 

You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly. 

It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.

His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken. 

Exactly what you’d imagined. 

“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips. 

His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips. 

You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride. 

It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work. 

You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours. 

You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek. 

The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time. 

“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark. 

He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you. 

You know you’ll have bruises there. 

You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.

Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting. 

At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much. 

Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body. 

His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling. 

“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath. 

He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god. 

The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there. 

He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill. 

“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat. 

“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat. 

Yeah, drive-up it is.

#obx #obx 3 #obx 3 spoilers #rafe cameron #obx fanfic #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

#aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemomd targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fan fic #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond smut #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x you #modern!aemond x fem!reader #a perfect score #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters

[inkedells]

okay but messing around with dbf!joel while on a family trip to cancun🤧

A/N: oh i absolutely ate down with this drabble

warnings: SMUT, literally everything that happens here is in public where anyone can walk in on them, grinding, so much dirty talk as usual, oh and just to be clear, reader is a legal adult (her age is never specified)

word count: ~750

masterlist

mdni! | requests open.

When you insisted you spend a couple hours at the resort pool at quite literally the crack of dawn, your mother shooed you off with a simple instruction before going back to sleep: take Joel with you.

You sat at the edge of the pool, kicking your feet in the cool turquoise water as you read your book—Or, at least, pretended to read your book. And it had everything to do with the way Joel was staring at you. Your bikini was baby blue and white gingham with ruffles on the edges, a fairly innocent combination, although slightly revealing.

With the pool area completely empty this time of day, you wanted to have some fun.

“Hey, Joel?” You called out, hand over your eyes as you squinted at him laying down on a sunchair under a cabana..

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

And there it was. Voice calm as ever, he called you by the name he only ever called you in private, and you found your legs instinctively squeezing together.

“I, um…” You lost your train of thought for a moment, but recovered quickly enough, “Would you like some company?”

He looked at you with adoration, running a hand through his hair. “Well when you say it so politely, darlin’, how could I say no?”

You sat your book down and stood to your feet in one fluid motion, deliberately bending down to pick up your book with your ass facing Joel. From the corner of your eye, you could see him staring.

Good.

You sauntered over to him without a word, watching him make room for you to sit next to him as he remained laying down. Neither of you spoke for a couple of seconds, just drinking in the heady air of each other’s presence; For you, that meant staring a little too long and hard at the hand on Joel’s belly resting dangerously close to the waistband of his swim shorts, the soft puffs of breath escaping his parted lips, and the smooth, tan skin of his exposed thighs. For Joel, that meant fucking you with his eyes as he scanned over every curve of your body.

“How d’you like Cancun so far?” Joel asked, pretending like he wasn’t imagining you naked that very second as he reached out to graze your fingers with his own.

“Hot,” You whispered, his question barely processing because god were his eyes beautiful and god was his stare unwavering and god were you so fucking horny you couldn’t breathe.

“And what else?” He whispered back.

“And, um… And… I… I don’t want to talk about Cancun anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

Joel knew exactly why.

“Because…”

“Because?”

“Joel. Come on.”

“Ohh,” Joel pretended to realize, “You didn’t come here to talk. You came here ‘cause you want to get played with.”

Before you could say another word, he was pulling your head down to kiss you. It was passionate and heated, but most of all dirty, because here you were kissing your dad’s best friend… on vacation… in a bikini… with your family sound asleep in the hotel room multiple floors above you.

But you had a strong feeling that the kiss wouldn’t remain “just a kiss” much longer.

“Let me touch you,” Joel urged, panting against your mouth as you moved to straddle his hips, “Can I touch you? I’ll make you feel real good, honey, I promise.”

You nodded eagerly, subtly pushing your hips forward in an effort to create friction for your throbbing core. Joel immediately complied, his hands on your ass as he guided your movements. But when he noticed something like frustration appearing on your face, Joel was slipping a hand down the front of your bikini.

You couldn’t help but gasp, panting out little whines and mewls as he stroked you. He started with a combination of rubbing circles on your clit, smirking as he stroked a finger through the wetness gathered between your legs and teased your hole every now and then. With how vocally you were responding to his ministrations, it wasn’t long before he was inserting two fingers inside of you and delivering your first instruction.

“Grind on my fingers. Mhm, yeah, just like that.”

And soon, your second instruction.

“Squeeze those tits for me, sweetheart. God knows my hands are busy.”

And finally, your third.

“Hey, cum quick, alright? Don’t want your old man finding us like this. Jesus, his best friend finger fuckin’ his little girl. What would he think?”

masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller the last of us #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller x you #dbf!joel #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou smut #tlou show #dbf!joel smut #dbf!joel x innocent!reader

[sindicas]

pleasure, pleasure, pleasure!

cw: reader is pregnant, referred to as mommy (no kink), office foreplay, eren talks you through foreplay, fingering, squirting, you both like to tease, praise, umm i think that’s it

notes: i posted this yesterday but it wasn’t the full version 😭

naur cause thinking of eren who’s gotten you pregnant and your tummy is so round and plump. your breasts are so heavy and full. your body’s thick and plump too. yet, your pussy’s still so warm and tight. the snuggest fit for his fingers. the one’s he’s pumping out of you slowly, and making you taste as a reward for being so wet.

“see what happens when you come visit me at work”

“erennn,” you’re crying, sniffling. curling your toes and using your hands to cover your face, “ ‘s bored… i was bored.” you mutter. you’re out of breath and drooling. he’s got you in his office chair, it’s cozy and snug, and you’ve got your thighs spread over the arms. eren’s holding you in place, fucking his middle finger right into your pussy. marveling at the way you squeeze around him, how your arousal drips and covers his fist. he’s in love with how he can feel you sucking him in deep. if only you could handle his dick. but he just can’t fuck you soft enough in this pregnant state. he can’t bend your legs at the knees ad throw them over his shoulder. can’t just fuck another kid into you cause your tummy’s so big, and your pussy aches with any sudden touch. 

“i’m helping aren’t i? you don’t like being a lonely mommy? can’t keep your butt at home?” 

“if only you’d take my dick. i think it’d make you feel so much better mommy.”

this mommy feels so guilty for not being able to take daddy’s dick. 

“nuh uh,” you’re trembling. jerking in his seat. your thighs spread even further as you fuck his finger. that one digit makes your limbs weak. it’s making your head feel so light, and it’s making your pussy so, so wet. a loud squelch. that suction. “can’t take your dick.” you cry cause you want it so bad. 

“but i wan’ it.” you make grabby hands at him. at his cock that strains against his pants. it has his khakis on edge. makes him massage that pretty little clit. your swollen little feet ache, cause you’re curling your toes so tight. holding back the loudest string of moans. he’s fucking his angel this dumb with just his fingers. 

“don’t look at me like that.” 

“cause you’re gonna hate me if i fuck you right now.” beads of sweat trickle down his face. resisting that pussy, your pussy, his pussy. it’s fucking killing him. he’s gonna have to go to the office bathroom and jerk his dick, cause every time he tries to put it in; you’re a mess. you get so tight that he can barely push the head in. ‘you’re gonna tell me you can’t take it. gonna tell me it’s too big ‘won’t fit’.” he mocks. 

“you’re a real tease you know that?” did you know that? coming in here, just so he can finger you in his office so that you can go about your day. after he releases all that sexual frustration in you, cause you know he’ll do it. he’ll do anything for his pregnant wife. kiss her lips, rub her feet, and please that greedy little pussy. just with a flick of your wrist, he’ll submit. just so you can rub it in his face, let him know how good it feels to get pleasured by the help of someone. with the help of a lover.

and he wants to deny you of that pleasure, but feeling how fucking wet you get from his fingers makes him swoon. he could never deny you of that. how your gummy walls have their own heartbeat. how it pulses around his finger like it’s his dick. how you squeal out when he strokes your g-spot. how you’re leaking into his chair, creaming all over his fingers. a steady stream of cream slips down from your pussy and drips to your ass. 

you fuck his finger like a whore. so needy, so desperate. blabbing and fumbling your words. arching your back away from the chair when that pleasant, fuzzy feeling creeps into your stomach. “gonna cum,” you groan, “gonna make me cum.” 

“i know, baby. i can feel it. i can feel your little pussy squeezing me.” he smirks, places his hand below your bump, and pushes up and at an angle as he sinks his finger further inside. he wants to add another, just one more if he can. just to stretch that pussy out so his dick can fit; he’s a throbbing mess. but his dick is girthier, and thicker. it feels like his heart is in his dick. throbbing at each feeling of constraint. 

“gonna try to fit one more in, ‘mkay? just wanna see how much you can take.”  you twitch and clamp down around him. he definitely won’t get it in like this. you’re fluttering non-stop around his fingers. 

“come on, princess, relax for me.” 

“you know ’m tryin’.” your words come out breathy. there’s a bit of strain to ‘em. all you can think about is cumming. there’s nothing else, you’re focusing all your energy on getting a nut. your clit’s taken over all thinking; all those nerves are on overdrive. 

“just breathe okay?“ 

“it may hurt…” he parts your lips, and lets a second finger graze your hot, sticky folds. “but it’s ‘cause you’re squeezing so tight.” he begins to ease that second digit in. sinking it slowly. slowly! he has to remind himself. he’s eager to fit it in. and slowly he’s pushing his way into your pussy. another digit. just one more that’s all he wants. one step closer to preparing you for something bigger. 

he can see it in your face that you want to scream. your grip around the chair’s arms tightens and your chest rises with a quickness. because as soon as the finger started creeping its way in your eyes shot open.“‘ren, kiss me, please.” you cry out. tears stream down your face as you beg for eren. 

“almost in.” his lips ghost yours. he rest his forehead on yours and when his finger finally pushes past all that resistance, he kisses you. and it feels so heavy. having to keep your mouth shut, to ease the moan that’s desperate to come out. “‘ren — feels good.” you groan into his mouth. 

“does it, baby?” a thin line of saliva connects your tongues, “you know that’s all i want.” his tongue dips back into your mouth. your twisted between staying focused on the kiss, and bucking your hips to make eren’s fingers fuck you. they strum and scissor your insides. all that just for you to be undeniably tighter than you were before. 

you can feel yourself spiraling more than you were before. the pads of his fingers are gentle, so gentle that it has your thighs shaking. your head’s thrown back on the back of the chair, and you just can’t function. no speaking, no looking — nothing. 

and eren feels his dick leaking. hearing how out of breath you are, how you squeal when he hits the right spot with his fingers. he admires you for being so sexy and knowing what you want. how you still look so pretty when you’re on the verge of cumming. even with your mouth hanging open and your eyes crossing. “you’re gonna cum? i can feel you.” 

you nod your head and feel yourself just letting go. you cum so hard like always. your thighs tremble before they snap shut and your moans are arousing. you keep them quiet enough just so eren can hear. and he’s gonna get more out of you. he curls his fingers up and tightens his hand around your hip. “you know what i want.” you jerk in his chair. you cling to his arms and beg him to be gentle. but he can’t. 

he wants you crying out. make you feel bad for not letting him fuck you how he wants. he can be a little selfish. instead of his fingers, he’s imagining that it’s his dick that you're cumming around. squeezing this tightly on. clamping so harshly on. it gets his dick throbbing harder than he can imagine. all the fucking blood in his body is in his dick. little spurts of liquid gush out of your pussy. each one growing with more intensity as his fingers keep stroking your insides. “yesss, mhmm right there.” 

“uh huh, good girl.” he praises with low eyes. he’s running his tongue over his lips, as you squirt from all that pressure, all that pleasure. “i knew you could take it.” he kisses your cheeks, and slowly takes his fingers out of you. they’re covered in a thick layer of arousal, and he’s gonna use it. he’s thinking about it. pulling his pants down and using it as lube to… y’know what. 

#eren yeager #eren yaeger smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren smut

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 36

Part 1 Part 35

Will’s skin feels tight, stretched over his bones as he tosses and turns into the morning. It’s a relief when the sounds of Mom burning breakfast filter into his room.

“Shit, shit,” she says, pans clattering as she moves them from one burner to another. 

WIll crawls out of his bed, limbs lethargic. His socks have gone wonky in the night – all his tossing and turning making the heels twist to the front of his ankles. He slides them around on the carpet, shifting them around without having to bend over.

He shuffles into the kitchen, settling quietly at the table, feet up on the chair, chin on his knees as he watches his Mom cook. 

She’s scrapping crisp scrambled eggs onto a plate, muttering to herself as toast pops from the toaster. 

Jonathan stumbles out of his bedroom, drawn by the sounds. His pajama pants are too long, trailing across the floor, making him trip on the hems. He grabs the toast without a word, plucking the butter from the counter and coating them liberally before bringing it over to the table.

“Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting down beside Will.

Mom turns, holding the burnt eggs and mushy hash browns on separate plates. “Oh, sweetie,” she says, hurrying over and putting her own bounty in the middle of the table. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” he says, looking down at his knees.

It’s not that his Mom hasn’t always paid attention to him, but it’s grown sharper in the days since he got back from the Upside-Down. Like she needs to catch his every word. Like if he leaves her sight, he’ll disappear. That’s how she’s looking at him now.

Jonathan goes to grab forks and plates, heaping food onto Will’s plate before getting his own. 

The eggs are rubbery, over-cooked and under-salted, and the potatoes are more water than starch. Will eats it all.

There's been a pit in his stomach since he got back, like no matter how much he eats, there’s more space to fill. The doctor’s had said that was normal – just his body's shock response to food scarcity. It’d go away.

“Can I go see Steve?” Will asks.

Steve’s been so still, every time he’s visited. They’d shaved his head, and it made him look young and small and washed out; nothing like the boy with the gun or the boy with the broad back, always standing between them and danger.

But, maybe that’s never who Steve’s been. Maybe he’s always been small, and tired, and scared, just like Will. He just wishes Steve would wake up.

He hasn’t, not since Eddie’d brought him back. No one would tell him what happened, but the way Eddie refused to leave the room entirely said enough. Will isn’t sure he wants to know anything more.

He just wants Steve to open his eyes.

“I have to work,” Mom says, lips pursed. 

She hasn’t been to work since Will got back. Neither has Jonathan, and money’s got to be running thin. 

“I can take him,” Jonathan says, meeting his Mom’s eyes. Something Will can’t parse passes between them, before his Mom slowly nods, reluctance in every move.

Jonathan drops Mom off at work, and then they go, Will crawling between the seats to settle in the passenger seat. 

“Do you think he’ll be awake?” Will asks, staring out the windshield as Jonathan parks the car.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan says, unbuckling his seatbelt, not looking WIll’s way. “I hope so.”

They’ve been here enough that they don’t need directions to Steve’s second floor hospital room.

Eddie’s sitting beside Steve’s bed, like he has been every time Will’s come by. He’s wearing blue scrubs like the nurses do, and there’s no blood on his face. He looks tidier than Will’s ever seen him. 

Steve’s laying down, oxygen tubes taped below his nose.

“Will.” It’s Steve’s voice, scratchy and tired, but Steve’s. 

Will rushes to his bed. Eddie’s blocking access, so Will clambers over his legs, accidentally crushing his toes in the process. Steve looks washed out and tired. But his eyes are open and he’s smiling up at WIll.

Will bursts into tears. Steve holds up his arms in offering, and Will burrows carefully into Steve’s chest, keeping most of his weight on the side of the bed, unsure of where the injuries lie.

“Steve,” he hiccups. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

He’s not sure if he’s talking about the doctors, or his Mom, or Eddie himself.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, clutching the back of his head. “I’m fine.”

Will laughs, “liar.” Someone’s hand runs up his back. Jonathan’s or Eddie’s, it doesn’t matter. Everyone he cares about is safe. Everyone in this room is safe. 

They’re home.

When Will calms down, shuffling back awkwardly from the boy he barely knows, Steve smiles up at him, and it’s like something clicks into place. Steve is Steve. That’s enough.

Jonathan is sitting next to Eddie, shuffling uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Thanks, man,” he says. When Will looks back, Jonathan’s looking down at his lap, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “For saving my little brother. I don’t know what I would’ve done if–” 

His voice breaks, throat clicking as he looks down at his fumbling hands. Steve clears his throat. “Hey, man. Your brother’s a badass. He would’ve been fine.”

Will thinks about the endless hours alone in that dark, quiet place before he’d run into Steve and Eddie, and doubts it. It was like each second there sucked a little bit more out of him, leaving silence in its wake. He’s not sure what would’ve crawled out of the Upside-Down in his place. 

Will smiles down at his shoes as Eddie chimes in, “yeah, baby Byers definitely saved my life.” 

He can feel his cheeks flushing.

“Well, still,” Jonathan says. “Thanks.”

Steve clears his throat. “Anytime.”

Will sits on the side of Steve’s bed, unwilling to leave now that he’s here. It’s like, when he’s with Steve and Eddie, something comes back that the Upside-Down scooped out of him. And everything else is purgatory.

He’ll be trying to sleep, or talking to the party, or listening to music with Jonathan, and it’s all hollow. He’s just waiting.

But right now? Will’s here, and he’s staying as long as he can. 

Part 37

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #will byers #my fic

[thetriumphantpanda]

in his healing hands | joel miller

Summary | You come back from patrol with a broken body - knees and feet aching with age and the physical toll of the world. Joel knows exactly how to help you, putting his hands (and mouth) to good use.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word count | 1.8K

Warnings | Foot massage (not in a fetish way), knee massage, soft!Joel, oral sex (f receiving), Jackson-era, no use of y/n, no explicit reference to age but reader does say the line 'I'm getting too old for this' so make of that what you will (I’m 28 and I say this, so make her whatever age you wish!), nothing else, just porn without much plot tbh.

Authors note | So, I did a 25km charity trek yesterday and when I tell you my body is wrecked? My body is wrecked. My knees are shot, my feet have never known pain like it, my lower back is screaming at me. So, naturally, Joel massaging my aches and pains and then eating my pussy was the natural thing for my brain to come up with. Slight shoutout to @mvtthewmurdvck for the massage oil idea here... I couldn't resist. Enjoy - this was written and edited on my phone in about 3 hours so be kind.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’re too old for this. You’d been on your feet for what felt like a lifetime, though it hadn’t been more than twelve hours. Still, it was enough for the new boots Tommy had given you to cause blisters on the balls of your feet, and for your knees to feel like they had shattered under your skin. You had to speak to him, you think, as you hand your rifle back to the weapon store. Tommy needed to find a job for you that didn’t require you traipsing through the forest, up and down hills, otherwise your body was seriously going to give up on you. 

One foot in front of the other, it’s slow moving to his house. To your house. That’s still something you’re getting used to, the fact that your belongings, though they are few and far between, are now entangled with his. Your boots sit next to his by the door, your clothes hang alongside his in the wardrobe, you have a bedside table on your side of the bed. It’s strangely domestic, but you wouldn’t be without him, without Joel. He is what keeps your feet moving, no matter how much you want to collapse onto the ground and cry from the pain. 

The sun is setting, the slow pace back down your final hill and into the gun store mean you’re later than usual. When you push the door open, Joel is stood in the kitchen, his back to you, broad and straining against his t-shirt. You think you could watch him from behind forever. Immediately, you feel the stress you’d been holding in your shoulders dissipate from your body. The pain is still there though. 

Joel turns around slowly, smiling at you gently, his hands are clutching two steaming mugs of coffee. You’re still scared to ask what exactly he traded for it, but you’re grateful for it none-the-less when it’s pressed into your hand, and he’s kissing your forehead, pushing a gentle hand on your back, driving you towards the couch. He sits down, his own age showing in the way his knees audibly creak as he sits. 

You follow suit, a sharp gasp of pain leaving your lips as you sink into the couch cushions, legs sticking out straight because you can’t bare to bend them anymore. Joel is sitting up, concern across his face, because you never let on when you’re hurting, so for you to audibly wince when you try and get comfortable, he knows it must be bad. 

“Where are ya hurtin’, baby?” He asks, setting his coffee cup down on the table. 

“Backs of my knees,” You grumble, tipping your head back in pain as you try and shift into a comfortable position, “And my feet.” 

Joel slowly moves off the couch, sinking to his knees in front of you. His deft hands are unlacing your boots, pulling them off your feet, peeling off your socks after them. He has his hand wrapped around one of your ankles, tilting your foot to look at it, “What did I tell ya about breakin’ these in?” He scolds, head tilting to the boots on the floor, “Told ya you’d get blisters.” 

“The only place I ever go is on patrol Joel, I can only wear them in on patrol.” You shoot back, frustration in your voice. 

“Alright baby.” He lets this one go, realising you don’t need chastising, just helping. 

He takes your left foot in his hand and presses him thumb into the arch of your foot and you moan. You actually moan in relief as he works his thumb up to the ball of your foot, avoiding the blister that’s built there, pressing a thumb into the skin next to it. 

“Jesus fuck, Miller,” You groan, starting to press your foot into the pressure of his thumb, “Do the other one.” You ask, gesturing your hand to your other foot. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shifts his hand, repeating the same movements as before, thumbs digging into the arch of your foot, moving upwards slowly, until he presses slightly too hard into the ball of this foot, making you hiss instead of groan. He squeezes your ankle, knowing that he’s probably now causing more pain than anything else. 

“How’s about I run you a bath?” He murmurs from his knees, “Then we can get you nice and comfy in bed.” 

The warm water had gone some way to soothing you, but as you hobble from the bathroom down to your bedroom, the searing ache in your kneecaps is causing small tears to bloom at the edge of your vision. In the bedroom, Joel is already propped up against his pillows, glasses perched on the end of his nose with a book in his lap. It’s still warm, so he’s not put a sleep shirt on, he looks positively delicious and if your whole body wasn’t pain, you’d straddle his hips and show him just how much you needed him. 

He looks up from his book when he hears your heavy footsteps coming towards the bed, “Hot water help?” He asks, chuckling slightly when you flop, unceremoniously, down onto the bed, face-first, groaning in relief at the weight finally being off your body. 

“Will you…” You mumble into the sheets under your mouth, turning your head to him to he can hear you properly, “Will you do the backs of my knees?” You ask, “Just massage them a bit and see if it’ll help?” 

He shuts his book and drags his glasses off his face, setting them both down on his bedside table, pushing the sheets back from his lap, moving himself up on his knees next to you. He reaches over and sinks his fingers under the edge of the towel you’ve got wrapped around you, pulling it out from under you to drop it to the floor, leaving your backside naked to him. 

He runs his hands down your back, wide palms skimming over your warm skin, he stops to squeeze the globes of your ass as his hands continue their path down the backs of your thighs, all the way down to the crook of your knee. He leans over you, body pressed gently to yours as he fishes around in the bedside drawer for a moment, pulling out the small vial of oil he keeps there. 

Tommy had given it to him months ago, during the winter, when Joel’s joints seized up with the cold – you’d been the one massaging his back and his shoulders then – with the rosemary scented oil that someone in town cooked up, meaning the hard-to-find pills stayed in the hospital for emergencies only. 

You listen as he squeezes a tiny amount of oil into his palms, rubbing them together to warm and loosen the oil, before he’s got those palms wrapped around one of your knees, pads of his thumbs gently pressing into the aching muscle there. 

“You tell me if I’m too hard, okay?” He speaks softly behind you, a pattern of dragging one thumb, and then the other, across the plane of skin there, swapping between each knee until you’re a mouldable mess of a human. 

“Feels good,” You breathe out, head pillowed on your arm, “I ever tell you how good you are with your hands?” 

Joel laughs now, “Feelin’ better, huh?” He speaks, oily hands leaving the backs of your knees to trail back up to your ass, giving you another squeeze to see if you’re going to tell him to fuck off or not. 

He leans forward, lips pressing a soft kiss to the bottom of your back, “Think you told me once or twice,” He comments, answering your earlier question about his hands, “But, if I remember correctly, you think I’m better with my mouth.” 

His lips press a kiss to one of the cheeks of your ass, then the other, before he’s gripping the meat of you in his hands, squeezing and spreading you open for him, he notices you tense a little, and that simply won’t do, “Relax, will ya?” He encourages, “Promise I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby.” 

He knows that he can’t shift you up onto your knees, or bend them much as all, but God he has to taste you. He shifts himself a little, from straddling your legs, to shifting them open a little so he can rest between them. You’re still led on your front, head resting on your arms, tilted round gently to look at him as much as you can. 

He settles in between your thighs, body spread out much like yours is, with his mouth just inches from your weeping core, that’s been gradually gathering slick since he started touching you downstairs on the couch. His hands are back gripping the meat of your ass, using them to spread you apart so he can finally see you already dripping for him. 

“Can you lift up a little, baby?” He asks, watching with satisfaction as you move a little so he can finally get his mouth on you. 

He dips his tongue into your aching cunt first, using his tongue to lap up the delicious slick he’s already drawn from you. It’s already obscene, the sounds of his slurping, the way he literally drinks from you, tasting every part of you. Then, from his place behind you, he moves his head so he’s lapping at your clit. Soft, gentle flicks with the tip of his tongue, swirling the mix of his saliva and your slick over the little bundle of nerves in such a way that you’re crying out for him already. 

“Easy baby,” He grins into your cunt, “You that worked up, huh?” He pulls away slightly, “Do I need to make you come? Will that make everythin’ better?” 

You push yourself back onto his mouth and he obliges, because he can never deny you, especially when you’re this delicate and pliable, all from his hands helping to stop you hurting. He’s giving you wider, longer swipes of his tongue across your clit now, alternating when he wants back to those tight circles with the tip of his tongue until you are literally a quivering mess, teetering on the edge, waiting for him to tip you over. 

“Joel,” You whimper, hips chasing at his tongue as it sweeps across your swollen clit, “Make me come, please.” 

He doesn’t even bother to reply, just latches his lips around your clit, sucking for pressure, but still driving his tongue over it, until you finally let go, body shaking and a chorus of his name and pleas for him not to stop echoing through the room. And he doesn’t, not until he’s sure that his tongue has worked every ounce of your orgasm from you. He pulls away from you, wiping the slick from his face onto the back of your thigh before he collapses down on the bed next to you. 

He rolls you gently onto your side, pulling your body into his. His hand pulls at your knee gently, bringing one of your legs across his body to rest on him, hand staying warm and solid on your still painful knee, as his other arm snaked under your neck and around your shoulders to anchor you to him. 

He is still in awe, as you fall asleep against him, with his hands wide against your clammy skin, that these were once the same hands that killed people, tortured some of them even, the same hands that cradled his dying daughter all those years ago, now used to ease someone else’s pain, to make someone else feel better. He uses those hands now, running gentle patterns across your skin as you fall asleep, hoping that when you wake up, it’s made all the difference, even though he knows if you’re still hurting, he would stay here forever, running those hands over your aches and pains to heal you. 

#Joel miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel tlou

[mochidolls]

n : just a little blurb to avoid writers block as i go through writing requests! mom abby literally has me in tears every time.

click for palestine / please read (important!!) / how you can help palestine

your son was a splitting image of abby. down the blue eyes and faint freckles scattered like stardust across his cherubic cheeks. only his hair and smile bore resemblance to you. a smile abby which never failed to melt her heart terribly even if she’d argue otherwise. abby was know to be rather protective of you. this trait revealed to you in the early stages of your relationship, wayy before kai was even a fleeting thought. now at the age of 5, your son kai had adopted the same protective tendencies from his mother.

the overprotectiveness only got worse when news of your second pregnancy was revealed to the two. the two of them were non stop hovering over you. waiting at your side beck and call.

especially since abby had been swamped with meetings and other work related stuff, only much to her disapproval, resulting her coming back home late.

midday boredom plagued you, a sensation exacerbated by the heaviness of pregnancy. ordinarily, you'd fill your hours with chores and entertaining lai, but your swollen belly made such tasks arduous. laundry was the next best thing. with everything washed and dried by abby, all that remained was folding— a task you could manage, albeit with effort.

you slowly rose from the couch, a hand instinctively pressed against your back, a huff escaping your lips under the strain of your burgeoning belly. kai's concerned gaze followed you, mirroring abby's recent looks of worry.

your heart swelled with affection at the resemblance.

"where are you going, mommy?" kai inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"just to the kitchen, my love. i'll be fine," you reassured him with a gentle smile.

but kai, inheriting his mother's protectiveness, wasn't easily placated. "

mama said you should sit down," he persisted, his brow furrowing. chuckling softly, you assured him, "your mom worries too much. i'll be okay, i promise." you chuckled, tickling him playfully before planting kisses upon his giggling face. his giggles only drawing laughter from you before you put an end to the merciless tickling before a foot accidentally landing on your belly.

“i’ll be back okay?”

“kay.” kai hums before his attention instantly turned back to the cartoons on the tv.

you walked (waddled) towards the kitchen, the swelling at your feet not making things easier but you persevered, as it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to by now. shortly after you found yourself in the laundry room, slowly bending to open and reach for the clothes in the dryer. you began to fill the basket with clothes, thereafter humming a tune while doing so.

unbeknownst to you, kai, attuned to every sound, heard the familiar rumble of a car pulling into the driveway and he instantly sprung to his feet, his spiderman sneakers hitting the ground before he called out to you.

“mommy i think someone’s here!” the 5 year old called out but didn’t hear a hum nor a response from you. had you closed the door to the laundry room maybe that’s why you couldn’t hear him? or was it that thing abby often teased you about having really bad hearing when pregnant? too impatient to find a suitable reason for the 5 year old, he dashed over to the window to see which was by the door. standing on his tippy toes, peering out to catch a glimpse of the black SUV abby often drove now parked in the driveway.

“mama’s here!” kai muttered under his breath excitedly, eagerly watching his mom step out the car and make her way towards the door, holding what the little boy could see were grocery bags. in mere seconds as the door opened, kai ran into abby’s legs hugging them close, causing an oof to escape your wife’s lips at the impact before she smiles, setting the grocery bags into one hand before managing to pick the boy up and setting him on her hip.

“hey there bud.” abby greeted, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. “where’s your mom?”

“i think in the laundry room. i told her not to mama!” kai tells her, trying to explain himself knowing the duty abby had given him to keep watch over you.

“your mom, i swear to god.” abby chuckled shaking her head affectionately before she stepped into the house, closing the door with her foot (something you often told her off about. did she listen? no.)

“babe?” abby called out as she approached the kitchen, setting kai on the floor then setting the groceries on the kitchen counter on the floor. “yeah?” you called back, emerging from the laundry room, a slight smile gracing your lips as you saw your wife and son standing in the kitchen.

"you're home early," you remarked, your eyes flickering between abby and kai. "everything okay?"

abby nodded, her gaze softening as she took in your appearance. "yeah, just finished up a bit earlier than expected," she replied, stepping closer to you. "how are you feeling? tired? in pain? nauseous?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at the concern in abby's voice. “i'm fine, babe, really," you assured her. "just a bit bored, that's all."

abby's brow furrowed slightly. "and you’re doing…laundry?" she mused, her lips quirking up into a playful smile.

“i’ve been banned from literally everything so…” you shrugged as you looked between kai and abby.

“a great decision on our part by the way.” abby replies crossing her arms over her chest and you could see her biceps through the fabric of her shirt, taking every sort of willpower within you not to drool over the sight.

“you sit down now mommy.” kai’s voice breaks your daze, as his hand grabs yours, pulling you towards the couch making you stumble a bit.

“i still have to finish with the laundry though.” you tell him softly.

“i’ll do it and dinner too.” abby chimes in shaking her head, kai still trying to pull you towards the couch as you anchor yourself to the floor.

“babe, seriously i can make dinne—“ you stop yourself short at the furrowed brows and look your wife gives you and all you can do is sigh and admit defeat.

“okay fine.” you relent before letting your son pull you towards the couch.

“you sit down here, mama.” kai pats the space on the couch and you take a seat on the couch before watching your son run over to your wife to help her cook dinner.

although having the two of them be borderline overprotective of you all the time, you couldn’t help but smile at your family and how much they care for you and the baby.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us

[barbies1shots]

more toxic sukuna 😔

you all are NASTYYY !!! yall toxic sukuna is not for the weak , heres pt1 freaks .

giving my thanks to @thataintyohoeee for bits of this idea .

☆ - TOXIC themes , choking , mentions of stalking , calling the 😼 'she/her' , full nelson , abuse , hints at cheating (sukuna) , mentions of manipulation , mentions of murder , mentions of suicide , body fluids, possessive themes , obsessive themes , reader tries to be a boss bitch but cant stick up for herself , this and YOU guys who support this is genuinely concerning

read at your own risk

toxic!sukuna who you broke up with multiple months ago yet still comes around, claiming that youre the only one he really wants. that no other woman can replace you.

toxic!sukuna who goes to the club the next night and flirts with 2 women before taking them home.

toxic!sukuna who send you photos and videos of him fucking them dumb but saying that they can never compare.

toxic!sukuna who shows up at your house in the middle of the night, completely drunk and off his ass saying that he regrets everything he did. the abuse and manipulation.

toxic!sukuna who presses his face into your chest, pleading for you to take him back.

"Please, please, i didnt mean anything i did or said. ill be better for you. i make you the center of my life, the center of my soul. ill change just for you. I wont hurt you again, Ill love you more than i love myself."

toxic!sukuna who tries to hide his smirk once you accepted him into your home with a heavy heart.

toxic!sukuna who goes to your bathroom to clean himself up but ends up stuffing multiple pairs of dirty underwear into his pants pockets.

toxic!sukuna who licks his lips as he knows that you can not resist him, youre just too caring and compassionate.

toxic!sukuna who sat next to you on the couch after you asked him if he wanted to watch a movie.

toxic!sukuna who has his tongue down your throat and a hand between your thighs by the first 10 minutes of the movie.

toxic!sukuna who keeps pushing at your chest untill your back is pressed into the couch cushions despite your small protests.

toxic!sukuna who continues to take your breath away even after you told the man you wanted a break.

toxic!sukuna who stares blankly at your back as you walked away after you successfully shoved him off and walked into the kitchen.

toxic!sukuna who follows after you and pins you against the kichen counter, his hips pressed into yours so much that it begins to hurt your pelvis and hips as the kitchen counter dug into your skin

toxic!sukuna who wraps a hand around your neck and doesnt let up even after you begin gurgling on your own spit.

toxic!sukuna who smiles in delight when your claw desperately at his skin, drawling blood.

toxic!sukuna who shoves your night shorts down your legs and shoves another hand under your ass.

toxic!sukuna who releases his hand on your neck and shoves your upper back untill your bent over the counter.

toxic!sukuna who lands a slap on your sensitive cunt, pulling a shrill cry from your lips.

toxic!sukuna who just keeps slapping your lower body even after you reach a hand back to cover yourself from his relentless strikes.

toxic!sukuna who sees the counter wet from your snot and tears and grabs your hair to pull you up.

toxic!sukuna who runs a long tongue over your face, licking up everything on it. Tears, spit, snot.

toxic!sukuna who laughs as your sudder in disgust.

toxic!sukuna who pulls your lower lips apart just to look at the damage done, all the slick dripping down your plump thighs.

toxic!sukuna who bends down to pick you up, legs way above your head and completely at his mercy.

toxic!sukuna who jerks your body just to watch your breasts jump with every convenience.

"Let me go, Ryomen! I let you in my house so you dont have to gravel at my feet like a lost puppy! We broke up so long ago, you cheated on me, you tried to manipulate me, you abused me! I hate you!"

toxic!sukuna who listens to your hateful rambling with a smile on his face.

toxic!sukuna who slams himself in your cunt, cutting off every little thought in your small head.

toxic!sukuna who rails you even with how long your cries are.

toxic!sukuna who stops for a second and walks to the bathroom mirror, forcing yourself to watch how he drops you up and down on his dick.

"I didnt do shit to you, (name). You wanted this! you begged me every night to come over, dont think i didnt forget that. Dont think i didnt forget you sending me videos of you fucking yourself raw each night and sending me videos at 2am!"

"you cant ever run from me. i will always be with you, by you, infront of you, behind you... watching you!"

toxic!sukuna who growled those words into your ears as you cried and came on his dick again.

toxic!sukuna who coos mockingly as you beg him to slow down and let you have a break.

toxic!sukuna who claims your cunt loves it so much that shes squeezing him extra tight tonight.

toxic!sukuna who groans loudly after you tighten up.

toxic!sukuna who threatens to kill everyone you know after you begged him for help.

toxic!sukuna who threatened to kill you while youre stuff with his dick, that he has your life in his hands.

toxic!sukuna who then threatened to kill himself after eveything because you cant go into the after life without him.

toxic!sukuna who drops your spent body on the bed, getting behind you and says hell fuck you untill the sun comes up.

toxic!sukuna who you wont ever get rid of, who will always be there.

"Ive told you multiple times, baby. you cant run from me."

there you freaks go , part2 of toxic sukuna .

- aizawas BARB !

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #toxic sukuna #toxic!sukuna #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #toxic jjk #toxic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu sukuna #sukuna roymen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #toxic sukuna ryomen #smut #anime smut #SUKUNA #ryomen #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x black reader

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Arabesque

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Being a ballerina is everything you've ever wanted and more but after a major injury, you had to stay a step back. Now you're able to get back into it, so you ask the one person on the team who has taken ballet if she can help you.

Squares Filled: “you better have a good excuse for being late again.” (2021) for @blackwidowbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mansion is so big that you have to split up from your team in order to cover most of it. You hate being on your own on a mission but this calls for you to be alone. You’re not much for violence but the team needs a sharpshooter, which you are. You’re highly skilled on your feet, very flexible, and light as a feather. You can sneak into a room and not make a sound even if there are fifty people in it.

Someone with that skill is useful on a mission like this one. Someone stole black market weapons that they want to sell to the highest bidder, and you’re here to stop him before they leave. You’re not sure who is behind this but if those weapons get out, a lot of people are going to die.

Your earpiece connects you to Steve, Clint, and Natasha so even though you’re not in the same room as them, you still have them by your side. Your steps are very light as you enter one of the back rooms and there is a man in the back by a table of weapons. It’s the stolen merchandise. If you play your cards right, you can do this without alerting him.

The man takes apart the big guns to be packaged easier in the boxes by his feet. As he is turning to package the guns, you panic thinking he is going to see you and start shooting. You do the first thing you can think of and haul yourself onto a high cabinet soundlessly. The man turns and doesn't see you as he continues to pack the weapons.

You jump from high cabinet to high cabinet as you make your way across the room silently. The space is small and compact but you’re very flexible. You’ve been training all your life to be where you are, and it comes in handy for missions like these. When you get right above the guy, you jump onto his back and tighten your legs around his neck. The man doesn’t have any time to react and begins flailing about trying to get you off him.

You take your knife out of the arm holster and stab his hands that try to pry you off him, and he falls to the ground in a fit of choked gasps. As soon as he is passed out from the lack of oxygen, you step away from him and clean your blade on his jacket.

“I got the weapons. Back room, west wing.”

“On our way,” Natasha says. Your teammates meet you in the back room and see the man sprawled at your feet. “You took him down without alerting the alarms. Impressive.”

One word from her and you’re a blushing mess.

“Thank you,” you smile.

Steve grabs the man while you, Natasha, and Clinbt grab the weapons. SHIELD has been looking for these weapons that will keep them in their inventory while keeping the man hostage to gather more information from him. Everyone wants to celebrate the successful mission but parties were never your thing. Nothing against your friends but you’d rather spend time in the gym than be mingling with all of them.

Tony made a section of the gym to mirror a ballet studio for you to practice in. You’ve taken ballet ever since you could walk since your mother was one. You’re just following in her footsteps, trying to make her proud. The dream is to one day be on stage in front of an audience but you have a long way until you get there. You face the mirror and grab onto the bar so you can do your stretches. You squat down and bend your knees outward for ten seconds before standing up and doing it all over again.

For your next stretch, you turn away from the mirror and bend backward until your head is at the same length as the low bar. You grab onto the bar and lean forward while still holding onto the bar so that your body is in a backward ‘7’ shape. You’re holding this position for thirty seconds when you see Natasha walk into the gym through the mirror. You stand upright and give her a kind smile.

“Nice form. Looks like it feels good.”

“Yeah, especially after a long mission.”

“Little tip? Try using the wall for that stretch and walk your legs down the wall.”

“Have you ever taken ballet?”

“We did it as part of our training.” You open your mouth to ask her something but decide against it. “No, what were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be my teacher. I could use some help with my form even though I’ve been doing this all my life. I took a long break due to an injury and I’m just now getting back into it. I’d like you to teach me only if you’re okay with it. I understand if it’s too painful for you to, though.”

She chuckles. “Had you asked me fifteen years ago, I would have said no but I can be your teacher now.”

“Great,” you grin.

You two meet four times a week, three times if you have a mission to go on. She is teaching you so much, stuff that you didn’t know about or have forgotten about. While this has been helpful for your ballet career, it’s bad for your thoughts and feelings. It’s no secret that you have a thing for Natasha. How can anyone not have a thing for her? She’s gorgeous, has an amazing personality, is sweet and funny, and puts everyone before herself. She might know based on the looks you’ve been giving her but you haven’t outright told her you like her.

“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me,” you say to her.

You’ve learned so much in the coming weeks that brought you closer to her, which is why you two are sitting on the roof overlooking the city below. Tony built the Avengers Tower right in the center of Manhattan so on nights like these, you can see the nightlife.

“So, have you always wanted to be a ballerina?” Natasha asks.

“For as long as I could remember. My mother was one. Maybe that’s why I got into ballet classes at such a young age. I was actually really good until I graduated high school. I got injured on stage which left me unable to perform for years. By the time I could do it again, I lost my way. I started to pick it up over the years but it wasn’t the same. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I can’t imagine going through Red Room training was fun, but did you like doing ballet? Can you see yourself doing it again?”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“What did you want to do in life? You know, if you weren't an Avenger?”

“I never thought about it. I was taken at such a young age, that I didn’t think I could know anything outside of that training.”

That hurts your heart. She was taken and forced into a life she never asked for. She better off now but at what cost?

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs.

Moments like these are precious because they don’t last forever. The training sessions after this got better because you two found a way to work well together. She’d help you with your form and you’d try and perform a number for her. It’s working well for you two except your feelings for her are increasing. It’s the way she presses her body against yours to make sure you’re in the right position or her hand on your body guiding you to where you need to be.

It’s driving you insane.

She’s gonna kill me. Fuck.

If you’re late one more time, she is going to kick your ass. You rush down to the gym in hopes she isn’t there. You yank open the door and sigh in relief when you don’t see her in the corner. To make it seem like you’ve been here for at least thirty minutes, you quickly put your shoes on and do some quick stretches.

“You better have a good excuse for being late again.”

You look up and see Natasha by the entrance to the gym.

“Okay, listen, my alarm didn’t wake me up.”

“It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Your point?”

“If you’re late again, I’ll have you on the floor in seconds.”

Damn, why’d that turn you on? Those are delicious yet dangerous thoughts.

“Yes, ma’am,” you nod.

She walks over to you just as you stick your left leg into the air behind you. The only thing you’re balancing on is your right foot on your toes. You arch your back slightly and raise your arms to look like you’re flying. One of the things you’ve had trouble with since getting back into the art is balancing. Natasha puts her right hand underneath your leg to keep it up as soon as she sees you wobbling.

“Don’t think. Clear your mind.” 

She moves her hand from your calf up to your inner thigh, raising your leg as she moves. She grips your hip to get you to stay still, but the only reason why you’re going to crumble to the ground is because her hands are on your body. Her hands are so close to the place where you want her the most even if she doesn’t know it. She must know what she’s doing to you otherwise she wouldn’t do it. You look at her through the mirror and see the slight smirk on her face. That motherfucker. She knows exactly what she is doing.

“Like that?”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Those two words are what cause you to fall back into her. She catches you in her arms and you put your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay,” she whispers back.

Your body acts before your brain can think. You press a kiss upon her lips but quickly pull back in shock that you actually did that.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to do that.”

“Do it again,” she says.

This time, you kiss her confidently. Ballet practice just got a whole lot more interesting.

x

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