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faevi · 3 months

Note

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.”

653 notes · View notes

bi-writes · 2 months

Text

mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon

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vaguely-concerned · 7 months

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it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up!

It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.

‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #the unwanted guest #the unwanted guest spoilers #I wrote most of this right after reading tug for the first time but it's been so hard putting exactly what I mean into words #this is my best shot so far haha #I feel like a lot of a people have approached this lil 'revelation' a bit too... idk mechanistically? for my personal taste #I think it's far more thematically and metaphorically true than a scavenging hunt to see who's been rubbing off on who #spiritually. of course. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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rallamajoop · 2 months

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Resident Evil 7 and Mia's secrets

(Oh, did you think I was done talking about Mia? Not even close! >D)

Coming into this fandom late, I was surprised that popular fanon has it that Mia never does come clean to Ethan, post-RE7. Sure, RE8 depends on Mia not having told Ethan he died in Dulvey, but that has nothing to do with her own past with the Connections (and far more to do with Ethan's own denial, but that's a whole other thing).

Myself, I’d taken it as given that the scene where Ethan learns the truth must have just happened off-screen. Because, disappointing as that omission is, the whole damn game is leading up to it.

And having replayed RE7 lately, I realised there'd be no better way to explain my take than to catalog every time the game spells out to us that Ethan knows Mia’s keeping secrets and wants answers, and that Mia herself wants to come clean.

Heck, it’s just about the very first thing we learn about them.

“Ethan... You were right. I did lie to you. I shouldn’t have, but…”

Ethan's not actually stupid, and Mia's secrecy has obviously strained their marriage for some time. And as soon as Ethan finds her, he’s asking questions.

Here, he’s mostly asking who did this to you; it's way too early for real answers. But then Eveline takes control, shit goes down, and next we see her, it’s in her recorded message from the “Mia” video tape.

“There’s so much you need to know.”

When Ethan finds Mia again under the old house, he’s angry and has every right to be, and he doesn’t pull any punches.

“I always wanted to tell you…”

But Mia’s memory’s still a mess, and Lucas interrupts. Ethan’s next chance to ask questions comes in the boat, and he wastes no time.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”

Mia’s a little more defensive here, but she’s not lying about the holes in her memory. The game’s gearing up for the big reveal anyway, and the writers aren’t about to let her spoil it early.

If you choose Zoe instead of Mia, Ethan spends the boat ride asking all the same questions, only louder.

“I knew Mia was hiding something.”

But in the end, what do we get?

Whoever you choose, Ethan only gets a few brief moments with Mia after she frees him from Eveline’s mould, and no explanations are offered. But if you do pick Mia, then we end with Ethan flying away with her in the helicopter, saying only, “Mia's back and she wants to start over,” and I’m left going, wait, what? Haven’t we skipped something here?

In defence of the fanon consensus that Ethan never finds out the truth, that does seem to be the ‘canonical’ intent ‒ at least inasmuch as there's this one throwaway bit about Mia not wanting Ethan to know buried in a bonus text file only available with this one overpriced DLC for RE8. That’s it, that’s as much explicit recognition as this thing ever gets, one way or the other. And fucking hell, but that's a let down.

Even if we assume that Mia’s desire to come clean goes away once her memory comes back, why would Ethan just stop asking? He’s been asking questions the whole damn game – was clearly asking questions long before the game began! Knowing that Eveline was controlling people doesn’t explain what Mia had to do with it all. Now he’s suddenly all, ‘killed the bad guy, saved the girl, everything’s fine’? Was all that ‘a door closed’ bullshit supposed to be him accepting he’d never get answers? Why?

There are workable ways to spin Ethan never finding out. You could suggest he just accepts that Mia’s memory is gone (hell, for all we actually see of the ending, Mia genuinely might have lost her memory again after Eveline sucked her back into the mould). After all the trauma Ethan’s been through, you could also suggest he’s gone directly into denial, refusing to face anything that might threaten his ‘happy ending’ with Mia. You could even suggest that that bit with Eveline saying 'I can make him love you' is her actively wiping Ethan's suspicions away. There's some lovely, subtle horror in any of these possibilities ‒ I would genuinely love to see all of them explored in fic! But none of them actually come through in the ending we get, and that omission is the single biggest issue that makes that conclusion to RE7 unsatisfying to me.

The whole damn game has been building up to the big confrontation where Ethan finds out the truth and (eventually, if not immediately) finds a way to forgive Mia, so we can still have our happy ending. As much OTT hate as Mia gets, the game is consistent in portraying her as someone who is painfully aware of how bad she’s fucked up, regrets it, and is committed to doing everything she can to protect the man she loves from the fallout of her mistakes.

I cannot overstate how willing Mia is to die to save Ethan, from the very moment she realises she's infected. She does die to save him if you choose Zoe over her. It's so much of why I ship them do hard.

But most frustrating of all, denying Mia the chance to come clean denies her any chance to explain herself. How did she get involved with the Connections? Did she know from the outset who she was working for? Did she genuinely buy into the idea they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers on battlefield, that the human casualties of all their work was worth it? If not, why did she keep working there? Was she slowly frog-boiled down to the deep end, did they have dirt on her, did she fear they might kill her if she tried to leave? What excuses did she make to herself as the months or years went on?

It's possible Mia’s the kind of hypocrite who doesn’t care about the human casualties of her employer, just as long as she and hers are okay, but nothing we see from her sells me on that interpretation. And even if she ever was, it's even harder to believe she's still that person after all she's been through.

It aggravates me that the games never gave us answers, not just because I want explanations that cast Mia in a sympathetic light, but because not giving us answers leaves this huge hole in her character. I'd even take explanations that cast her in an unsympathetic light, as long as it all ties together.

It irritates me even more because, even if Capcom wasn’t up for giving Ethan and Mia the big emotional confrontation they deserved, the solution was so simple: let Ethan find Mia’s diary on his way out of the ship. The whole goddamn franchise is filled with diaries and documents where characters lay out their backstories and motivations in ludicrous detail – why does Mia never get one? Just give us a handful of entries dated over the years, laying out her own feelings and anxieties about the job she’s doing. It would’ve been so easy!

It irritates me nearly as much that, even in the few corners of this fandom sympathetic to Mia, no-one seems to be very interested in answering these questions in fic or shared headcanons (and if there are examples out there I don't know about, please do link me to them!) How much did Mia know about what she was getting into when she started working for the Connections? Was it the job she kept telling herself was just until she could find something better, only for that ‘something better’ to never come along? Did she have stains on her record that made it hard to find another job? How much of her lying was a misguided attempt to protect Ethan, and how much was simply about protecting herself? There's so much to explore here!

This is also where I mention that I've already put my money where my mouth on this one, and written up my own take on Mia's backstory, and how Ethan might have found out the truth. You don't have to agree with my version, of course ‒ I mean it when I say I'd love to see other people's ideas too. Heck, I'd even be up for versions where Ethan ultimately can't forgive her, just as long as people come at it from the angle of looking at Mia as a character, not just a one-dimensional-villain.

But of course, I'd still prefer to think about versions where these two do find a way to make it work. It takes a lot to make me ship het this hard, but these two stealth-badasses have pulled it off with style.

#Mia Winters #Ethan Winters #mithan #Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Mia Winters week #RE lore #meta

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petrapalerno · 2 months

Text

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #8

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging and violence.

MASTER POST

His chest heaves as you step toward him, the blade still raised at some unknown foe.

“Drohako, it’s okay, I’m still here,” you whisper, trying to diffuse this situation.

When the alien barbarian tilts his massive jaw down to you, his eyes are black with fury.

“I’ll go, just for now. I will convince them to let me come back to you.” You try to comfort the alien, who refuses to feel anything other than rage.

“They will not let you come back to me,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Drohako, they will—they must,” grabbing his hand, you press it to your lips, kissing his scarred knuckles. You’re taken aback when he rips his hand from your grip, grunting with disgust.

“Just listen,” you beg him, tugging his palm back. “Listen to your mate.”

He looks at you with a weary expression, as if the word ‘mate’ breaks him. His defensives seem to fall, and Drohako collapses to his knees. It’s as if his body cannot bear its weight. The thought of losing you is physically crushing him. His face is no longer taut with anger, his fists are still balled at his sides.

You take a deep breath, ready to talk some sense into him.

“It will be okay, I will go—“

“Udders,” he says, cutting you off.

You jolt, surprised at his response.

“Udders? What does our safe word have to do with this?” you ask, thinking he must be confused.

“If anything becomes too intense...or too painful, we use our safe word,” he whispers.

Oh.

A fat tear slides over his purple cheek, a shocking burst of emotion for the barbarian. He seems just as uncomfortable at the display as he swipes away the wetness and quickly steels his expression.

Oh no.

“Drohako, I have to go,” you say the words, even though you know it’s not what you want to do. The image of the lone tear on his cheek will be permanently burned into your memory.

“We promised this to each other...you say udders and I stop. Now when I finally use this word, you choose to betray me like this?” He stares into your soul, knowing that he’s right. “I don’t want a stranger to raise our child, not when you’re my true mate. Don’t leave me,” he pauses, placing a hand on the small of my belly. “Don’t leave us.”

His plea hangs in the air, and your heart thumps in your chest.

“I want to stay,” you whisper, knowing it’s the truth. “I want to stay here with you.”

You can see Drohako’s body relax as he lets out a sigh of relief.

“But, how would we even do that? They’re tracking me, aren’t they?” You run a finger over the still blinking ear cuff.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his eyes shining with a calculating glint.

You almost laugh with absurdness of the question. How could the answer be anything but yes? Do you trust the alien in front of you that holds your face is his huge hands?

“With my life,” you tell him.

He reaches behind him, grabbing a scrap of leather. Holding it to your lips, he orders you, “Open your mouth and bite down on this.”

You do it, and flinch only slightly as he brings the sharp steel tip of the blade to the shell of your ear.

“I will cut only what I have to,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “Then we set out to the wilderness. I have a hunting ground with supplies to hold us over until we can establish a new home cave.”

You spit out the leather, anxiety suddenly welling in your stomach.

“Do you think I’m cut out to be a space pioneer?” You ask, scared of what this new life he has planned for you might be like.

“We’re made to be together, mate.”

The last word hangs in the air. It feels so different from when he says ‘human’.

You nod, trusting him, letting your chest burn with fondness for him—your mate.

Those sparkly warm feelings are cut incredibly short as the tip of his knife curves under the ear cuff. He angles it into your skin and starts prying the connection points out from under your skin.

Even though you bite down on the strap, you can’t stop your hand from shooting up reflexively. Drohako quickly pins it against your body.

“Be still. It’s almost free.” His purple tongue darts out from his lips in a show of concentration.

“Ugh, fuck Drohako,” you yelp spitting out the strap. You feel the last bit of resistance give way and the cuff thuds dully against the floor.

He nearly knocks you over when he starts to stomp the shit out of the tracking device.

You stare, in awe, as he keeps slamming his foot into the device, tiny metal shards flying free as he works. The orange light flashes again once before it’s smashed from existence. He keeps going until you’re not even sure there are pieces of the cuff left.

“Drohako,” you say to his unhearing ears."Drohako!” you yell even louder.

Finally, you grab his biceps, and he turns. The vein in his forehead throbs, and he tries to catch his breath.

“Let’s go,” you command, “tell me what you need me to do.” You know he needs you to focus on him, to funnel his rage about the situation into action.

You need to ground your mate.

He takes a deep breath, and you can see his whole demeanor change as he becomes an alien of action. He tosses you a bag.

“Fill this with as much dried meat as it’ll hold, I’ll ready Graysi

#monster fucker #monster romance #monster smut #monster lover #smut #terato #monsterfuqqer #aliens #alien romance #alien #Petra palerno #STTABshort #i love aliens #monster fuqqer #alien x human #alien x reader

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biteofcherry · 10 months

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to find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; D/s undertones; public humiliation; groping; dirty talk

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 4k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

5. Breaking ice

~ * ~

You’ve never been more annoyed with a sunny day and warm lightness filling your bones than you felt the day after the apothecary incident. Extra bounce to your step as the sun stroked your face and corners of your lips threatening to curl up irked you immensely.

Every other minute you tried to force yourself into a stormy mood.

Into an expected reaction to what has happened.

You faced direct danger, witnessed people being killed in cold blood, you were trapped in a relationship with a fucking mobster, who - on top of it all - screwed your body and mind in a most wicked, deranged way.

You shouldn’t be feeling cheery. That reaction was inadequate to the situation and to the moral norms you thought you possessed.

Either Rogers had that strong of an impact that you quickly bent to his dark whims, or the spine you thought you had always been a noodle not a steel rod.

How otherwise explain the fact repulsion at his manhandling transformed into thrill and arousal?

Last night, when you finally went to bed after taking a thorough scrubbing shower (and crunching a few cranberry pills to pray the UTI away), the images of being fucked with a gun resurfaced in a colorful burst.

The crystalline blue frozen in ice of Steve’s irises, the soft pink of his lips inches away from yours, the black of the gun against your floral dress.

It made you sticky instead of sick.

You had some knowledge of the psychological aspects to rough sex fantasies, or bdsm preferences, even consensual non-consent role play; but they all were considered normal when consented and previously explored.

You did not give Steve your verbal consent. Yet you didn’t exactly fight him. Convincing yourself it was because he had a gun and could kill you with it fell poorly since your pussy clenched at the memory of the barrel against your skin.

What has your life become - cranberry pills and getting wet from being violated.

You were angry, yes, but not at what you should be. Your annoyance with Rogers was peaking, but the true resentment wasn’t only toward his actions. It was directed at yourself for not being outraged by what happened.

When the next day at work Natalie asked you about the meeting, you gave her the short version - a trap being set up and Rogers coming to save you. The part about coming all over his gun was left unspoken.

You told yourself it’s to spare yourself further humiliation, but a part of you simply feared you’d get turned on thinking about it again.

Really, that should be a topic to pick at a therapy session, but you couldn’t do that either. You had enough common sense to know going to a psychotherapist was out of the question, not with the man who was about to become your husband. You couldn’t tell all the truth in a session (to not risk a therapist’s life) and going there only to lie and omit had no sense.

So you decided to channel everything onto the job.

Focusing on work meant not allowing your thoughts to roam around Steve fucking Rogers, as well not giving your body reasons to stir with arousal.

You caught up on paperwork, made a few phone calls - including those less important, just to occupy yourself; you visited the new speech therapist in their office. Being busy enhanced the sense of lightness, which you preferred to read as having no space to overthink and stress, instead of wondering if getting debauched was the sole cause of your serenity.

However, the lull of denial burst the moment Natalie came into your office with lunch.

Lunch you didn’t order, and a couple trailing behind her with creepily bright smiles on their faces.

“Miss Leigh Parrish and Mister Elias Asher are here for you.” Natalie informed you, professional as always, though you noticed the barely constrained eye roll. “And they brought you lunch, apparently.”

“What?” You looked at the set of neat three boxes with delicious looking food then at Natalie and at the pair behind her.

The two walked in with confidence, as if they were about to take over your office. The woman, Leigh, had a pad in her hand and a huge binder under her other arm. The man held some small kind of measure tape and a little blue notebook.

If they were some new donors, or a company who wanted to start a program with your health center, they sure were the very first to start negotiations this way. Usually you were invited to lunch, not have it brought. People meeting you were also more reserved and polite, instead of barging in with some wacky energy.

“Lunch is from Mister Rogers, we’re just delivering since we were going to be here anyway,” said Leigh, her toothpaste-commercial grin not changing for a second.

Instantly your mood dropped, your eyebrows creasing into a hostile frown.

“And why are you here?” Your tone remained calm, but you made sure displeasure in it was audible.

Steve randomly buying you lunch was a worrying problem you stored to resolve later; though you had a feeling he wouldn’t care that these nice gestures annoyed you, as they clashed with the picture of a ruthless mobster you were adamant on hating forever.

The two cheery people coming in unannounced - at the direction of Steve, undoubtedly - became the aim of your irritation and distrust.

“To help you plan your wedding, of course.” They both beamed in unison and you almost groaned at how overtly sweet the woman’s tone has become.

“Mr Rogers mentioned you’re fighting nerves, which is absolutely understandable,” Leigh cooed and your fingers twitched, ready to reach for something to throw it at her. “Planning a wedding can be stressful, especially an impromptu one. But that’s why I’m here! I’m the best wedding planner in the city and I’ll make sure it surpasses all your dreams.”

Your reluctance toward the wedding wasn’t something you hid from Rogers. Quite the opposite, you announced it any chance you had; within limits of reason, to avoid being disposed of.

Him sending in an actual wedding planner was a move you did not expect. At all.

You’d sooner anticipate him dragging you in your pajamas in front of a forced registrar to get it over with.

Ah, but that would be too easy. Not enough torment for you. Not enough room for you to show how obedient of a wife you’d be.

We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess, his voice resounded in your head, a decadent richness that softened your limbs for a split of a second before your resistance kicked in.

Having you organize the wedding, or at least actively participate in it, was a lesson - that you would follow his orders even if you hated them.

“The best wedding planner in the city has a free slot to organize a wedding in a month?” You arched a single eyebrow, studying the woman. “What skeletons are in your closet that my fiance managed to blackmail you?”

You didn’t doubt she was one of the best, but those had their schedules booked for three years in advance. To have her clear it for you meant there was more than just money at stake for Miss Leigh Parrish.

Her smile faltered for a second, but she regained her composure fast. She ignored your question, walking instead toward your desk and placing her huge binder on it.

“Since we have the venue covered, with Mr Rogers estate being more than enough to host the event,” she went on, “there are only details to talk over. Let’s start with the wedding rings, so that Elias can begin working on them right away.”

Her companion stepped forward. The tiny measuring tape in his hand now made sense, as it apparently was to measure the circumference of your finger to match a ring size.

“Let’s start-” you interrupted, pushing your chair back- “with you leaving my office.”

Interesting how you managed to maintain your poised self, professionally cool as you delivered the polite fuck you, while that composure quickly dissolved around Rogers.

You kinda stepped on eggshells around him at first (and still, sensing when the crossing line was too near), but then his demands lit your fuse. Somehow you dared to stomp your foot, be loud in your outbursts and acts of rebellion. And it wasn’t because Steve provided safe space, oh no. He was far from safe.

“What?” The man blinked, confused, while his friend blanched.

“We have to get it done. As soon as possible.” Still trying to sound sweet and soft, Leigh made the mistake of allowing a tremble to shake her voice.

“Then get it done, I don’t really care.” You shrugged.

It was the truth. You didn’t care for the ceremony at all.

You had a brief thought about hating it, if it was some overused boho or retro theme in a barn, but then again you would hate it anyway, since you didn’t want to marry Steve. Besides, it could be funny to see his face if someone told him to wear suspenders and a flat cap for aesthetics.

“You, um, you don’t want to participate in preparations for your own wedding?” Leigh frowned, utterly surprised. “Not even pick a dress?”

“I can wear a t-shirt and flip-flops for all I care.” You probably wouldn’t go that far, but you really didn’t care.

If Rogers didn’t order you to wear a wedding dress, you’d do it anyway just to please your parents who were going to be completely oblivious to the truth behind your speedy wedding. You preferred to keep it that way, playing someone so dumbly in love she was ready to marry a few weeks after meeting the guy. You didn’t want to worry your parents.

Natalie snorted at your words, for the very first time so openly showing amusement. She even grinned when you glared at her, then turned on her heel and walked outside.

“The, um, the wedding rings?” Elias cleared his throat.

“Barbed wire would be fitting,” you snorted under your breath, but he didn’t seem to hear it. You suspected he might’ve fainted if he did.

“Whatever Mister Rogers wishes,” you shrugged. “As a matter of fact, why don't you go and consult with him?”

To underline that you were done with this whole shit-show, you opened one of the lunchboxes and dug a fork into it. You didn’t lift up your eyes from the delicious food until you heard the door closing.

You ate your lunch while idly browsing the internet, just to get your thoughts off the wedding completely. It was approaching with each passing day and you preferred not to accept the fact.

Though you weren’t sure denial would work once there was an actual ring on your finger.

It seemed it wouldn’t work even before that, because not a half hour after you dismissed the wedding planner the door to your office opened with impetus.

Steve strode inside, a force of a thousand storms contained in a man’s body.

His heavy boots and the hem of his tight jeans seemed to be freshly stained with something wet and dark. The rest of him was perfectly clean, not a smudge of dirt on his hands. You tried not to think of blood splashing on his shoes and legs as a lifeless victim fell at Steve's feet.

You definitely tried to ignore a wave of heat that washed over you at the thought.

You forced your eyes to stay on the devil’s angelic face, drowning in the hues of blue, so that your gaze wouldn’t slide across Steve’s body in search of a gun holster.

“Princess.” Steve sighed, but there was an undertone of amusement in his voice.

He walked toward you with purposeful steps; his mass seemingly changing the gravity inside your office, so that all light fractured to disappear in his approaching darkness.

Or maybe it was your attention discarding anything in your peripheral to focus on him, as if he was the center of your world.

You abruptly stood up and shuffled back instinctively, bumping into a bureau. Steve caged you against it, blocking any route of escape with his arms on both sides of you. It was only then that you tilted your chin up, tapping into the remnants of your steel defiance.

“Why am I hearing that you’re scaring off the wedding team?” Steve tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “They’re here to take the planning burden off your shoulders, so that you can focus on your work. And your future role…”

You swore that if he said anything about wifely duties, you’d kick him.

“I told them they can plan whatever they want. As long as they do it far away from me,” your mocking sweet smile combined with your sneer.

Perhaps your tone provoked it, or maybe a challenging fire in your eyes, but Steve’s lips curved into a wolfish grin.

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, “look at your cute yip, yet there’s no real bite to it.”

It was very dangerous to do anything to antagonize Rogers, especially when he was this close and could snap your neck with his bare hands, but you acted before a reasonable thought settled in.

You opened your mouth and caught his thumb between your teeth, clenching your jaw enough to cause pain, but not drawing blood.

Steve’s eyes hardened, the blue of his irises darkening. Time froze for a split second; you could almost hear the ice cracking beneath your feet and the murky depths awaiting to swallow your dead body.

Suddenly your eyes widened, when instead of backhanding you, Steve pushed his thumb further between your lips.

Your teeth released their grip, his digit easing into your mouth and pressing against your tongue. Saliva pooled around it and you instinctively hollowed your cheeks.

Twisted satisfaction igniting in his eyes and the subtle thrust of his thumb along your tongue stirred you from stupor. Scorching shame filled you to the roots, though you hoped it didn’t show.

You pulled back, turning your face away from Steve as you swallowed remnants of his taste. He tilted your chin with his wet thumb, forcing you to look him in the eye again. What the fuck was with this man and maintaining eye contact?

“Let’s get it over with, shall we?” He smoothed a hand down your arm and wrapped his fingers around your wrists.

Next thing you knew Steve was calling for Elias Asher, as he stretched your arm out; thumb pressing into your palm to make your fingers stretch.

Elias stumbled inside and almost tripped over his own feet at the sight the two of you displayed - you pressed against the bureau with Rogers’ intimidating size looming over you, your hand offered on a silver platter.

“You mentioned you need measurements for the ring size,” Steve intoned conversationally, “do what you must.”

You glared daggers at Steve, which he accepted unbothered. The jeweler’s fingers didn’t shake as he wrapped a small measuring tape around your finger and wrote down the result in his notebook. However, all the while he was staring either at your finger or his notes, never up at either of you.

That way it was easier to pretend the scene before him wasn’t close to intimate, or that he didn’t suspect you were being forced into marriage.

“What type of metal?” His voice wavered slightly.

“White gold,” came Steve’s decided reply.

Something told you that while he was giving you free will to organize the wedding however you liked, Steve had already chosen how your permanent shackle looks like.

You peeked at his hand, gaze sliding across the rings adorning his thick fingers. You noticed there was none on the finger on which a wedding band is worn. He was going to make sure that your rings matched the set he was already wearing.

“Pure and fierce, like my fiancée.” Steve added, with a mocking tilt.

“And the cut?” Elias scribbled down, not lifting his eyes at either of you even once.

Steve’s eyes sparked mischievously. His right hand moved up your thigh, squeezing your thick flesh through the fabric of your skirt.

“Cushion?” Steve mused aloud.

Then his touch moved upwards, along your ribcage and ghosting over the swell of your breast.

“Round?” He cupped your tit indecently, causing you to gasp in outrage that he dared to do it in front of someone.

That he dared to do it at all!

“No. We know which suits you best, right?” Steve’s hand ventured north, brushing your collarbone before his fingers curled around the front of your neck.

“A princess cut.”

Ringed fingers wrapped around your throat loosely, but it was a firm enough gesture to boil your blood and weaken your knees.

You couldn’t blame it on the fear of being strangled, because not a single thought about it entered your mind when Steve did that. Neither when he did it the first time, in his kitchen, nor now.

What you thought about was the power he spread over you and how it melted your resolve into an obedient puddle. Against all reason.

Unable to look away from Steve, you didn’t notice the jeweler leaving your office in a hurry, undoubtedly ready to drink away what he tried not to witness. You didn’t even hear the door close, your ears were filled with the sound of your own heart pounding in a quickened rhythm as Steve’s hold on you continued.

Slowly (it seemed reluctant, too), Steve loosened his grip. He didn’t move it away, though, shifting it only slightly, so his hand splayed like a necklace above your sternum.

You took a shaky breath in, cogs in your brain starting to turn anew.

“Why can’t we just sign the papers without this wedding party fuss?” You asked quietly, gaze shifting from Steve’s hold on your hand to his face.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles before he let go of it and took a step away from you. He swiped a hand over his mouth then gave you a blank, almost condescending look.

“Because I need everyone convinced I’m here after your cute ass, Princess. Blind with love or lust, or whatever people want to believe in,” he winked at you, as if you were supposed to agree with his cynical assessment.

You thought quite the opposite. That no one sane would believe Steve Fucking Rogers was interested in you.

“Who would even believe that?” You snorted, frowning.

It wasn’t about insecurities of any kind; you were mildly confident both in your looks and your worth. However, men like Rogers didn’t even circle around women of your kind.

Men of power; men who rode the thin line of morality, mostly treading through the dark side; they went for women who craved such things. Women who suited that lifestyle. Women rotten at the core, or greedy (whether for wealth, or for power and influence). Or at least for women who looked really fucking good on their arms, like models and escorts.

No one, none of Steve’s rivals surely, would believe that he was simply courting you. You beside him made zero sense.

Steve laughed. Actually laughed. A warm, sparkling burst of amusement that made his handsome face gain impossible boyish charm.

“That a man got addicted to a sweet pussy?” He looked down at you, still grinning. But that grin transformed into a sly curve.

“Everyone, Princess.” He leaned closer, again; voice nearly purring as his lips brushed your cheek. “I can assure you that even at this moment they’re thinking I’m balls deep inside you.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that rocked your body. Judging by the way Steve’s eyes dragged down and up your frame, he noticed your reaction.

“I’m kinda thinking about it, too.” He licked his lips, drawing your hungry attention to them.

But the ire at his crude words snapped you out of daze. Your fingers curled in a fist and you pounded it against Steve’s chest when he pressed his weight into you.

“In your dreams!” You hissed.

Your small fist made no real impact against Steve’s hard chest. It didn’t deter him and it seemed he didn’t even feel any pain from the hit.

His hands returned to your body, boldly gripping your hips and holding you in place as he licked along your jaw. He flicked your earlobe with his tongue - a lewd tease that should disgust you, but instead made your pussy tingle.

“I’m dreaming of our wedding night.” Steve whispered before pulling away with a low chuckle at your wheeze.

“There will be no wedding night!” You pounded two of your fists against his chest. Futilely.

Steve regarded you with a look one may give to a small kitten trying to appear intimidating toward a wolf fifty times its size.

“I’ll make you a deal, Princess,” he tucked both thumbs beneath the hem of your blouse, his touch nearly scorching against your skin.

“On our wedding night, if I touch your sweet pussy and it’s dry, I’ll let you pick a bedroom for your own. So you can live in solitude, unbothered by my presence.” He sounded sincere, like it was a business deal he was really willing to propose.

Then his hips were pressing against yours, bulge in his pants prominent as he rocked it into you. Steve’s eyes flashed a dark gleam; his sensual lips parting enough to reveal a row of sharp teeth ready to take a hefty bite.

“But if I find your cunt leaking, as I know it is now-” his deep growl resonated straight to your clit.

“I’ll take a pound of flesh. And I’ll be taking you over and over and over again, until you lose your voice from screaming my name.”

You clutched at his shirt where your hands rested on his chest. You wanted to be able to shove him away, to punch away the beam of smug victory off Steve’s face. Reasonably, you knew you couldn’t do that without serious repercussions happening.

You were also too busy with the inner battle, fighting some fucked up, primal need to have Steve do to you exactly what he threatened.

The bastard was unfortunately right, you were soaked. Something you’d never admit to him.

Even if he pushed his big hand up your skirt and dipped his fingers straight into your dripping cunt, you’d deny it to his face. You’d deny it to yourself. Forever.

Thankfully, Rogers didn’t push further. He seemed satisfied with his stupid bet and that you didn’t fight back (even if you kept your mouth closed in fear of releasing a whimper). Steve let go of you, only lifting one hand to cup your chin.

“Now be good, Princess,” he commanded. “I don’t have time to deal with hysterical wedding planners.”

You grimaced - eyebrows drawing in a frown, nose scrunching up. You weren’t interested in dealing with wedding planning either, but you were aware Steve considered the topic closed. If you reopened it, he might do more than just bend you into obedience in front of a stranger.

“Then why did you come here?” You asked instead.

“I came for my distressed fiancée,” Steve’s grin was cheeky as he used his grip on your chin to slightly shake your head.

He squeezed a tad tighter and when your lips puckered he pecked them.

“You’ll get a big girl kiss when you start acting like one,” he added at your indignant glare.

Then released you and simply turned around to leave. You cursed him and called him names in your head. You prayed that one day you’ll get reckless enough to throw something at him, consequences be damned. For now, you still liked to be alive.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #dark mafia!steve rogers x female reader #dark steve rogers #touch the darkness #my writing

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xcherryerim · 2 months

Text

Roommates Conflict

Mike Schmidt x afab fem!reader

word count: 3919.

warning: NSFW 18+, sexual tension, roommates to ???, stuck fetishism (the reader is stuck on the couch), consensual sex, porn with a plot, SoftDom Mike (little hints of submissiveness tho), pet names (princess, and baby), no use of y/n, in the middle of sex apology / love confession, a bit of fingering.

This is my first time writing smut so please let me know how it was so I can improve. If there are spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. My first language is Spanish.

summary: After fighting with your roommate for a month, you decide to discuss your issues with Mike but, your plans don't go accordingly, and then...Mike finds you stuck on the couch.

credits: @/kithsune for the separator

Mike has been your roommate for seven months now. At first, you thought sharing an apartment with a grown man and his little sister was about to be hell. Surprisingly, everything worked out. Mike was responsible and clean, and his sister was easy to care for. When you finally thought Mike was the best roommate imaginable, things quickly shifted.

You’re not sure if it is the long hours Mike must work or his lack of sleep making him grumpier and prone to irritation, but for the past month, the routine has been this: When you wake up after Abby is off to school and it’s just the two of you, Mike snaps, scolding you for forgetting to clean a few dishes, not finishing drying your laundry, not taking the trash out the week you were supposed to, etc.

You barely opened your eyes, and he was already being a bitch. Then, around 6 a.m., you waited for him to get home after his shift and pointed out that he was a hypocrite since he hadn’t done any major chores himself. Sometimes he pretends you aren’t there, he hisses, or he just accepts the truth and does the chores half-assed.

Today, however, you have a break from your usual responsibilities. And luckily, Abby is with her aunt for the day. Abby’s birthday was a few days ago, and Jane forgot. To keep up the façade of being a perfect aunt, she promised to take Abby to Disneyland, aka the fair down the street. How sweet.

You don’t mind, Abby. She is quiet, but a well-mannered kid. However, you wanted alone time with Mike to discuss the heated tension between the two. You decided to clean the apartment and do his chores for the day, like the dishes, sweeping the floor, throwing the trash, and even going grocery shopping so he didn’t have to go tomorrow. You knew he needed a break, too.

You finished the chores ten minutes before Mike would get to the apartment. When you sat on the old, washed-out couch, you felt a pointy object poke your lower back. The item slides down, going to the inside of the couch. A light sigh escapes from your lips as you turn, placing your knees on top of the sofa seat. You let both of your arms inside the couch, trying to find the mysterious gadget. After a few minutes of struggling, you catch it. You can tell it’s Abby’s gaming controller. She lost it a long time ago, so you know she’ll be happy to play on her console once again.

When you try to free your arms, it does nothing. You used your body force to pull away, but there was no use. You were stuck. You still insisted on doing anything to let you escape this embarrassment, and the thought of Mike seeing you like this sent shivers down your spine. You knew he would make fun of you until one of you moved out. With your strength running out, you pulled once more. No use. Loud steps filled the room, and you feared that your worst nightmare had just come true.

“What the fuck?” His eyes were wide open, a blush running across Mike’s unevenly shaved face. He tried to act as usual, but his mind was running wild. It didn’t help that he had a small crush on you that he tried to avoid and that he started to develop a new fetish. People being stuck.

“I’m stuck.” You answered, rolling your eyes at Mike. Is he always this annoying?

He stood there, not doing anything, but his eyes glimmered at you like he was admiring some piece of erotic art.

“Help me!” You demanded, but Mike just seemed overwhelmed. He walked toward his room. His knees are wobbly as he takes each step. You could hear noises like he was desperately looking for something. After a minute, the noises were gone, and the only thing you could hear was your heart beating like you had never felt before.

“Mike, help me! Mike?!” You were losing your patience. After some hesitation, Mike walks awkwardly towards the living room, his eyes never meeting yours fully.

“What?” He stuttered. Mike tried to use his usual monotone, but it came off as anxious.

“What do you mean, what?! Help me!”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

He got next to you, wrapping his rough hands around your wrist, slightly pulling.

“I’ve tried that. Is there no use?”

“Then what else do I do?” He sighs, his hot, heavy breath melting into the thin skin of your neck. You felt your body starting to shake like it had some sort of anticipation for him to just...

You let out an aggravated groan and shake your head like it will remove those naughty thoughts of you and your roommate. This whole situation is getting worse by the second.

“Well,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “I think... I might have an idea.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, a warm smile appearing on his face, which felt unusual. You swore you had never seen him smile like that before.

You look at him suspiciously. Why did he ask if you trusted him? You weren't stupid. He always tried to mess with people in some way. But the longer you stayed like this, the more uncomfortable it became.

"Fine. Do what you want. Just make it quick, please. This is humiliating as it is."

Mike swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "Okay," he said, nodding once. "Hold on tight," Mike whispered before getting behind you, his fingertips shaky as he slid his hands on your hips.

You let out a small gasp as your body prickles at Mike’s touch. He pressed himself against you, his body heat enveloping yours. As he tried to pull, his hardened member hit your ass multiple times. You could feel Mike’s heart racing against your back.

You didn't want him this close, but you couldn't deny that it felt nice in a weird, twisted way. As Mike grips your hips harder, using more force than before, your brain stops functioning for a second, unable to stop you from letting out a soft moan that you were desperately trying to avoid vocalizing out loud.

Mike froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't expect you to react this way. The moan sent waves of pleasure through his body, making him even harder against your ass. He tried to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t want to imagine himself pounding you as you were stuck, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second.

“I’m sorry!” Both said it at uneven times.

“Let’s just ignore what happened and help me get off.” At this moment, you wish you could crawl under a rock and die, but you’ll probably get stuck there too.

Mike chuckled lightly, then nodded at your words, trying to clear his thoughts. He took a deep breath before sliding his hands back onto your hips. This time, he pulled with all his force, grunting as he tried to free you from the couch. The pressure building inside him couldn’t be denied, and it was clear that he was struggling to contain himself. With that, as his bulge caresses your ass, he lets a loud, desperate groan out of his dry lips. You gasped as one hand was finally free.

“It’s working…” As much as you want to hate this feeling, it’s making you feel some way. You wish you guys could forget about this so he can fuck you hard against the couch. Unintentionally, you let your ass follow the rhythm of his pulls.

Mike's mind was a mess of lust and confusion. He couldn't believe the legs in front of him were shaking in need. He was so focused on freeing you from the couch that he didn't even notice how his hips were moving in a pattern.

"Almost there." His voice was a mix of care and exhaustion. As you feel your hand slowly get loose, you decide to speak.

"Look, we clearly are... avoiding the fact that we’re really turned on right now.”

Mike’s attention suddenly went to the words being spoken, his breath catching in his throat, trying to process them. You're right, he thought. They were both so turned on by this, and they couldn't deny it any longer. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke.

"I know," he whispered. "But we have to stop."

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he continued, trying to sound calm and collected. "Once we're out of here, we can... we can do whatever you want."

“No.” The simple answer made him still. “Once I get out, we will be too embarrassed to even look at each other. You can’t see my face right now; I can’t see yours, so... let’s do it now.” You suggested. It felt humiliating; you hated that you sounded so needy, but for some reason, Mike had that effect on you now.

Mike was terrified and excited. He had never been so high on lust by someone before, and the thought of finally having you beg him to fuck you right here, in this awkward position, with your face buried in the cushions, was driving him crazy. It is like his darkest fantasy is finally going to come true. Without any thought, he removed his pants rapidly and slid a condom down his shaft.

Mike takes his hands up to your sides, gently caressing your skin as he slowly pulls you back towards him. His cock rubbed against the thin fabric of your shorts, which slightly hugged your soaking folds, eliciting a moan from both of you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

Mike nodded slowly, his breath coming in short, unsure gasps. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against your ear. "Then let me show you how much I want you." He removed your shorts slowly and steadily. As soon as your underwear was removed, he licked his fingers before settling them in your folds.

Mike’s hands were always something you stared at in secret when he wouldn’t notice, and now his rough, manly hand is wrapped around your most sensitive areas. The heat building up inside of you from just his touch alone was hunting.

"Please," you managed to croak out as he teased you mercilessly. Mike chuckled lightly before finally giving in and sliding his long fingers into you. You moaned loudly as he started moving them in and out, hitting all the right spots that made you feel pleased. His free hand reached down to roughly fondle your breasts through your shirt. You arched your back into his touch, begging for more. But instead of giving you what you craved, Mike pulled away suddenly, leaving you panting heavily.

Before you could ask why he stopped so suddenly, you felt his firm grasp forcing you to spread your legs. Your entrance was wet and inviting to him. Mike gently pushed his hips forward. His cockhead pressed against your tight cunt, and you could feel him throbbing with need. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, before slowly pushing forward. It wasn't long before you started to whimper harder. The smell of the combined arousal filled the small room, fueling him even more.

Mike moaned loudly, feeling you give in to him. He thrust his hips forward, burying deep inside with one swift motion. Your warmth engulfed him, and he couldn't believe how good it felt.

"Fuck,” he whispered in your ear. "You feel so good." His raspy voice and uneven breaths made a high-pitched whine escape from your lips. As a response, Mike leaned closer, making his member fully inside you as he nibbled your ear.

“Was this your plan all along? Is that why you started to wear those slutty shorts more often?”

You tried to choke some words out, but the feeling of him inside you like this was so ecstatic and addictive that the only thing you could do was take him as he placed.

He started to move, his hips rolling back and forth in a steady rhythm. “You didn’t answer me.” His hot, sweaty body overpowered yours. “Use your words for me, would you?” he asked, his voice as delicate as his touch. Mike’s hand found the freed hand of yours, intertwining his fingers like he had to hold on for dear life. Every time he pulled out, only to push back in, he could feel you clenching around him. It was the most intense feeling he'd ever experienced. His breath came in ragged gasps as he lost himself by being inside you while you were helplessly stuck.

The only thing you could do was shake your head side to side at his question, but the real answer was more complicated than that. The first time you wore shorts, it wasn’t intentional, but when he saw you with them, he seemed to listen to you with more attention as you scolded him for not doing his chores that day, so you started to use them in your favor from time to time.

Mike chuckled at your clear lie, and he started to speed up, your body pressing against the couch more intensely as he pounded you harder.

You didn’t imagine Mike being so good with his dick. It is not like you know his sexual life, but in your eyes, he seemed the type to not go around sleeping with people. His life is too stressful for him to even care for his own needs. Maybe it's all pent-up horniness.

Mike's eyes were closed, his face twisted in pleasure as he took you with long, deep strokes. He couldn't believe how good it felt to finally have you like this. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but he couldn't help himself. He was lost in the moment, completely consumed by his desires.

His hand started to smack your behind. His slaps weren’t too strong to hurt you, but enough to make you gasp. As he increased the speed and started to smack harder, you let out sounds of pain and pleasure. “You can take it, baby, it’s okay,” Mike said, his calm voice contrasting his vile actions before slapping your ass one last time.

As he continued to thrust, he leaned down, biting your shoulder, almost like he wanted to hide his whiny moans. "Shit," he groaned again, pulling out of you slightly before pushing back in with a rougher force. "You're so tight."

“You need to stop pulling out... it’s cruel.” You said in between cries, his length making you feel lightheaded as if you could almost see stars.

Mike's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you. Without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty. You could feel him throbbing against your ass, aching to be inside you again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he leaned over, his chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I can't help myself."

“What?!” You stuttered; the sudden emptiness felt like hell.

“Do you always have to be an asshole?!”

Mike's heart broke at your words. He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't help himself. He needed you too much.

"No," he replied softly. "I don't."

His hands travel slowly from your hips to your chest. Cupping your breasts through your oversized shirt. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he lost control again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice quiet. "I know I've been an asshole this past month. There is no excuse for my behavior but—fuck!" Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the back of your neck. His tip pressed against your entrance again, and he whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

"Please forgive me," he said as he kissed your neck desperately. "Let me repay you for my bad behavior."

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you squeal. Your knees felt weak, and the air seemed to be overwhelmingly steamy. The only thought you have in your head is Mike pleasuring you and driving you to your limits.

With no response from you, his hands let go of your chest and quickly went to your shoulder. The sudden movement made you completely free from the couch edges. You immediately look down. The realization of what you guys were doing just settled in.

“Just look at me, please.” With a light force, he pulled you to face him, his body above yours. He is a mess. Red face with anxious teary eyes, sweat coming out of his forehead and traveling to his neck. He was a complete utter mess because of you, but you couldn’t deny the sight of him like this was so dreamy.

“Please, just forgive me.” Mike’s knees quickly touched the ground as his puppy eyes looked up at you. “I've been an asshole to you because I like you, and I know it’s wrong because we’re roommates, but... damn it. “His eyes shifted to your thighs, shaking in need, but the only thought in his mind was him being wrapped in them. He coughs, trying to regain composure.

After several moments of silence, Mike finally found the strength to speak, his heart racing faster than ever before. "I... I apologize for everything," he managed to croak out. "I'm sorry, but please, please let me feel you again." His voice cracked slightly as he reached out tentatively towards you, wrapping his arms around your leg in an embrace.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept his apology or leave him there alone. But then something changed inside you. Maybe it was just seeing how vulnerable he truly was, but you decided to relent. Reaching over to gently place your hand on his cheek, he pulled closer until your bodies finally connected once again. "It's alright," you whispered, giving him a small smile. “I sort of like you to-" Mike didn’t hear your confession. As soon as you said it’s alright, his arms picked you up with ease, making his way into his room.

He placed your body in his bed. “There you go.” He had an ear-to-ear smile. Mike turned on his nightstand lamp. The room was lit up slightly as the sunrise was shining through the windows, but the lamp brought more clarity to his room, which was tidied up nicely. If he was so obsessed with keeping his room clean, why couldn’t he do that with the apartment?

You find him scattering for something desperately. Lube. Once the lube is finally in his hand, he crawls into the bed with you, placing his swollen lips from all the biting he had to do to remain quiet into yours.

From the corners of your eyes, you can see him placing some lube on his palm and lightly spreading it across his cock, lightly stroking himself. A light whimper was vocalized as he kissed you. With one final stroke, he gets on top of you, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face as the thought of finally getting to see you lose your mind while his cock is inside you sends him waves of pleasure. Mike then looked at you with pleading eyes, asking for permission to continue, which you allowed.

This time, he didn’t hold back as he buried himself into your tight walls. The sudden coldness of the lube makes you shake. The combination of the lubricant and Mike’s hot member is driving you wild with desire. Making your hands dig into his back and your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer to you.

At your action, Mike picks up the pace, his hips moving faster and harder, his cock slamming into you with each powerful thrust. His cockhead contracts and releases, sending pleasure through your sensitive spot repeatedly. He groans louder, his breathing becoming heavier as he loses himself in the rhythm of their passionate lovemaking.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.,” Mike said it under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself.

“Mi- Mike.” His confession made your heartbeat follow the same speedy rhythm as his thrust. Your eyes were wide shut as your fingertips dug into his back.

Mike whines, and his fingers dig deeper into your hips, leaving marks that would likely turn into bruises later. You were not going to be the only one marking him. Mike wanted you to remember this. He then increased the speed of his thrusts, his hips moving faster than ever before as if he needed this release just as much as you did.

His rhythmical motion created a wet slapping sound that echoed around them, filling the room with the sounds of your lovemaking. His breath was raw against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of saliva along your collarbone. His tongue traced your jawline, nibbling and teasing your earlobes before returning to your mouth for a deep, passionate kiss.

He moaned again, his voice hoarse with desire. "Oh god, you feel so fucking good, baby." As Mike said this, he picked up the pace even more, his hips slamming against yours in a relentless rhythm. His cockhead rubbed against your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“I’m close.” You announced it with hesitation.

Bucking his hips harder, pushing his member deeper into you again and again with no mercy. "Cum for me, princess," Mike murmured. "Let me make you feel good. "Let me please you.”

Mike’s words were like magic, his cock hitting your G-spot in perfect rhythm, driving you over the edge. With a loud, primal cry, your body convulsed around him, and you felt yourself climaxing intensely. Your tight walls contracted powerfully around his thick member, milking him dry as he continued to thrust inside of you.

As your orgasm subsided, Mike followed suit, his climax hitting him like a freight train. His cock twitched violently inside of you as he whined. His hold on your waist loosened slightly, but he didn't pull out just yet. Instead, he rested heavily on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“So…” You said it awkwardly as you patted Mike’s head.

“About the chores...”

Mike chuckled lightly, his lips forming a dumb smile as he looked up to you.

“Yes, I’ll do them now. I promise.” Mike rolled his eyes and then placed his hand on your cheek. Caressing it with his thumb. “And… I’ll be a better roommate for you.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Mike.”

“I noticed you cleaned the apartment... So let me get you cleaned up.” Mike stood up and walked to his bathroom. You could hear the water hitting the bathtub. As you peeked to get a better glance, Mike turned his head to meet your gaze.

“Let’s have a bath together.” He said this as he disappeared from view to grab a foaming bubble bottle.

“And who knows, maybe we could do round two.” Mike’s tone was cheeky and playful. He leaned into the door, looking at you up and down. Proud of how messy he made you.

“Come on.” Mike smiled as he went to reach your hand, walking you into the bathtub.

FIN. Hope you guys liked it. Help me choose my next smut here!

Thank you so much for reading.

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x you #mike schimdt smut #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fanfic #fanfic

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another-lost-mc · 10 months

Note

Thinking about how funny it would be if Solomon also ate his own terrible cooking and is lactating with you. He'd probably just make the most of it as a new potion ingredient, or worse something to add to your next shared dinner that night

➤ milky mayhem | solomon x gn!reader

content: solomon and reader both have larger, lactating breasts because he's a menace of magical mishaps. I'm adding a Dub-con warning here because solomon tampers with reader's food without their knowledge but everything that follows is consensual. additional warnings: lactation kink, breast/nipple play, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, bottom!solomon. reader has a cock or strap-on (referred to as a cock). 3.2k words.

more in the lactation kink series: mammon | levi, asmo, beel, belphie | lucifer, satan, diavolo & barbatos, simeon, karasu

Solomon doesn’t think twice about trying some of his potions on you. They're not harmful. They're usually benign things, or things that he thinks might add a little twist to some of your more intimate activities together. Sometimes his experiments fail and have no effect, or the effect is so negligible you barely notice a difference.

Barbatos and the others are careful to keep an eye on him so he doesn't smuggle in food he's cooked when he’s invited to dinner parties, and last night was no exception. However, no one noticed when he pulled a vial from his pocket and added a few drops to your plate; everyone was too distracted by Beel rampaging in the kitchen, you included. The vial wasn’t quite empty, so he shrugged and added the rest to his own dinner.

What was the worst that could happen?

He kept an eye on you throughout dinner and the dessert that followed, and he deflated with disappointment when he thought it was yet another failed experiment—you didn’t look any different and you acted normally. He didn't notice any changes in his appearance either, and during the walk back to Purgatory Hall, he thought about the formula he used and whether it was worth tweaking the ingredient ratios to try again later.

Solomon wakes up the next morning and the first thing he notices is that his chest feels odd, almost like there’s a weight sitting on top of him. The next thing he notices is how wet he feels, and his sleep shirt sticks uncomfortably to his skin. He peels his eyes open and sniffs curiously at the odd smell in the air, but he grins when he looks down and sees the noticeable growth in his breasts.

He stands up and tugs off his shirt so he can inspect himself in the mirror. He feels almost giddy when he pokes the soft, bouncy flesh and it jiggles lightly under his touch. He squeezes them gently and grunts quietly at the strange sensation of milky fluid leaking from his nipples.

The front door of Purgatory Hall slams down the hall from his room and it interrupts his train of thought. He’s annoyed for a moment, but a sharp smile curls his lips when he faintly hears your voice greeting the others before the sound of padded feet approaches his room. You pound your fist urgently on his bedroom door.

“Solomon, are you in there? I know you had something to do with this! I swear, I’m going to—” You let out an undignified squeak when he opens the door in the middle of your little tirade and pulls you inside his room. He catches you when you stumble, and your eyes widen when you realize his chest doesn’t look quite right either.

“See something you like, darling?” he asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

You step back and cross your arms in an attempt to hide your chest again, but it’s too late. He can tell that yours is bigger too—it strains against the buttons barely holding your RAD shirt closed. Your nipples must be leaking again because dark, wet spots are starting to spread across the light fabric.

You narrow your eyes at him when he unconsciously licks his lips at the thought of sucking one of your tits into his mouth. “Sol, what did you do?”

He shrugs and offers you a half-truth—that he snuck in something special for dinner last night, and he wanted to share it with you so he added it to your plate. You don’t need to know the other boring details, but you don’t look impressed with his explanation. He expected you to be surprised, or possibly annoyed, but he didn’t think you’d look this upset.

“It’s only temporary,” he offers helpfully—he’s already figured out that the effects should wear off by the end of the day. He reaches out to you but you skitter away from his grasp.

“How can you be so—so—relaxed about all this?” You drop your arms and wince when one of the buttons of your shirt pops off and lands on the floor. You peel the flimsy fabric away from your chest and groan in frustration. “This is so embarrassing.”

You don’t resist him a second time when he reaches for your hands again, and he steps back until he can sit on the edge of his bed. He spreads his legs and pulls you forward so you’re standing between them.

“I understand. It is a little strange,” he admits, and he means it. He never wants to hurt you with these little experiments—they’re mostly to sate his own curiosity, but he does them because he thinks they can be fun for both of you too. “Why don’t we try to make the most of it?”

You blink at him in surprise, but you don’t pull away when he reaches for your jacket and pushes it off your shoulders. He starts unbuttoning your shirt next—the ones that haven’t popped off already. You shake your head. “I'm not sure how that’s possible.”

He doesn’t respond right away; he finishes unbuttoning your shirt instead. It falls open and drapes loosely over the slope of your breasts. He leans forward and sighs at the warm, milky scent oozing from your skin. He glances at you innocently from beneath his lashes. “Have you tried touching them yet?”

You fidget nervously in response to his question and you look away from him, suddenly very determined to look anywhere else. “I had to clean them when I woke up so I could walk here to give you a piece of my mind. Do you know how hard it was to find a shirt that still fit?” You glance down at the ruined shirt hanging off you and the loose buttons near your feet. “Or mostly fit, anyway,” you add with a pouty grumble.

Solomon’s hands slide up your belly and gently cup each of your breasts. The warm weight in his hands is so satisfying, and he feels lucky to be able to touch you like this. When he glances at your face, he notices that some of the anxious trepidation has faded from your gaze—you look curious now, almost eager to see what he’s going to do next.

“Let me show you how nice this can be, if you'll give me a chance.” He squeezes them with the tiniest bit of pressure, and he smiles when you gasp at the tingling sensation that shoots through your body.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s fondled your chest, but you don’t expect how different it feels now that it’s bigger than usual—and you’re so sensitive. Your nipples are hard and dripping, and your eyes widen when Solomon leans forward with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Wait, you’re not going to…?”

“Of course I am.” He flicks his tongue against your shirt once, and then again as he moans at the surprisingly sweet taste. “You taste better than I imagined,” he murmurs before closing his lips around your nipple and sucking it gently through the fabric of your shirt.

The wet cotton scratches lightly against your skin, and the increased suction of his lips causes you to gasp his name in surprise. Your hands shoot into his hair when your knees buckle, and he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. His other hand slides back down your body, and his nimble fingers fumble hastily at the waistband of your pants.

It’s embarrassing how turned on you are, and maybe you were too distracted to notice before—or you tried to ignore it, feeling oddly aroused by this whole situation but too ashamed to admit it.

Solomon hums around your nipple when he finally slips his fingers into your underwear. His relentless fingers stroke teasingly against your arousal, dipping into the wetness that betrays your own desire for him. He coats his fingers with your slick to ease the glide as he continues stroking you the way you like best.

The soft fat of your thighs jiggle as your body quakes from his ministrations, but it only encourages him more. He focuses on caressing your most sensitive spots—he’s memorized them all, of course. And like all the times before, you're quickly turning to putty in his greedy hands.

The lust radiating off you is contagious, and he pants noisily between desperate tugs of your nipple between his lips. He drags his mouth over the curve of your breast and licks at the valley between them, the bare expanse of skin that’s soft and warm and sticky-sweet. His nose pushes your flimsy shirt away so he can latch onto your other tit, leaking and full and all for him. He moans as a fresh wave of pearly milk pulses across his tongue and down his throat.

You scratch your fingers along his scalp and tug his hair, pushing his face closer to your chest with a needy whine. Your hips move with his hand as you chase your release, and there's nothing more lovely than the desperate sounds you make when you fall apart around his fingers. You cry out his name when you come, and your legs tremble so much that he pulls away from your chest so you can cling to him in case your trembling legs give out. He strokes your back soothingly and you melt against him, resting boneless and content in his arms.

He lays down on the bed and pulls you down with him, and when he finally kisses you, you can taste the subtle, milky sweetness lingering on his lips. Your tongue traces the seam of his mouth and curls with his. You can’t help the little groans bubbling in your chest at the unique combination of his taste and your own. He huffs in amusement against your lips when he realizes you like the taste as much as he does; he moans when you bite his bottom lip in retaliation.

His cock is hard against your tummy and his hips have been rubbing against you in jerky little movements, almost like he’s trying to resist the urge to rut against you like a mindless beast. You sneak your hand into his pants and dance your fingers along his length. He’s just as responsive when you touch him—precum pools at the tip of his cock when you tease along the slit, and he twitches in your hand when you wrap your fingers around him and pump him with a few lazy strokes.

You run your nose along his jaw and pepper kisses along his neck; he tilts his head back with a groan when you suck at one of the sensitive spots near the hollow of his throat. He shudders when you hum against the little purple bruise blooming where your lips and teeth nibbled at his skin.

When you pull back, he looks completely undone with his messy hair and shiny, kiss-swollen lips. You clench your thighs together when a fresh wave of arousal starts to coil deliciously in the pool of your belly. “Do you want to fuck me?”

His cock twitches in your hand, but he surprises you when he shakes his head. “No, not yet.” He swallows thickly and reaches for the shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. “I have a better idea.”

His better idea involves a desperate scramble to undress each other properly, shaky hands tugging and tearing at each other's clothes that prevent the hot skin-on-skin contact you both crave. Once you’re both naked, he pushes you flat onto your back in the middle of the bed. He lifts his leg over you and straddles your hips; he stares at your chest with lust-darkened eyes.

He murmurs something unintelligible under his breath, and his fingers glow blue for a brief moment. He wiggles them in a mockery of a wave when you tilt your head curiously, and they glisten in the dim lighting of his bedroom. He presses a hand to your chest so he can squeeze one of your swollen breasts and pinch your nipple between his finger and thumb. His other hand moves between his legs so he can stretch himself open for you.

You can just barely hear the faint, wet sounds of his fingers moving between his legs, and it's not long after when he huffs impatiently and runs his slick fingers up and down your cock. He pauses when you touch his wrist. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Normally he likes to be the one fucking you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck while his teasing voice whispers filth and praise into your ear.

He shakes his head and there’s something desperate, almost feral in his gaze—and you’re powerless to refuse him anything now. “I want to ride you like this,” he breathes as he lowers himself onto you. He wiggles his hips slightly as he adjusts to the overwhelming fullness, and like the rare times you've done this before, he can't help but admire how you fill him so perfectly.

He feels more exposed like this too, but your wide eyes roam over his body like you’ve never seen anything so amazing and he doesn't regret it. He spreads his legs and sinks down just a bit more. Your hands dig into his hips like you’re afraid he might suddenly change his mind.

Heh—not a fucking chance.

The depraved desire he feels as a result of his little experiment is amplified tenfold when he starts grinding against you, slowly at first but a bit faster, when his body starts to sing with pleasure of having you inside him. His chest heaves and bounces with each languid roll of his hips, and your tits jiggle slightly as you thrust up and match his lazy rhythm.

You can’t resist the alluring sight of his larger breasts bouncing gently as he moves; he grins slyly when he realizes what's captivated you so much. “See, darling?” He moans quietly when you brush against that soft, spongy spot inside him. “They’re not so bad, hmm?”

You don’t respond, but you don’t have to—your hands are firm on his hips and your eyes are blown black with your own lust for him.

He makes a cheeky little show of tilting his head back and putting himself on display for you: the darkening bruise your teeth made on his neck earlier; his hands cupping his tits and pinching the nipples even as more milky fluid drips down his chest; and his cock, hard and heavy and twitching, bobs lightly against your belly.

“You’re a fucking menace,” you grit out as the coil of arousal burning inside you flares; he sounds sinful and his body is so mesmerizing that you can’t stop staring, and he knows it.

He looks down at you again, but there’s something surprisingly soft in his expression that makes your heart stutter. “But you still love me, don’t you?” His soft-spoken words are surprisingly vulnerable, and your throat tightens with too much emotion and you nod, unable to speak. He understands what you want to say but can't—he’ll always understand what you feel for him, because he feels the same way about you.

He leans forward and rests both his hands on your chest, splaying his fingers wide to steady himself as he moves a tiny bit faster, bouncing on your cock with purpose. You arch your back against his hands as he squeezes your breasts, and now he’s the one that can’t stop staring. “You’re so pretty like this,” he pants loudly as he rides you faster than before. “I can’t get enough of your gorgeous tits bouncing in my hands, you look so—fucking hell,” he curses, trailing off into a moan as pleasure builds and threatens to overwhelm him.

You know he’s close when his eyes flutter shut and his rhythm grows sloppy. One of your hands trails away from his hip to wrap around his cock instead. He fucks into your fist as his body sways lightly as he chases his pleasure; the whimper that tumbles from his lips sounds suspiciously like your name.

“Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like a needy little brat,” you coo breathlessly as you tighten your fingers around him. “Come on, make a mess for me.”

The groan that reverberates deep in his chest rattles you to the bone, and his hips spasm as the first ropes of his warm, sticky cum shoot out across your fingers and up your tummy. “You say—oh, fuck, yes, right there—” he cuts off with another broken groan as your pump his cock through his orgasm; he whines at the back of his throat when you finally milk him dry. “You say the sweetest things, darling," he exhales heavily when he finally stops moving, and he chuckles as he tries to catch his breath.

Tendrils of sweaty snow-white hair stick to his forehead, and his eyes look wet and glossy. He winces slightly when he lifts himself off you and falls onto the bed next to you, nuzzling affectionately into your shoulder. “That was lovely,” he sighs tiredly. "We should do this more often," he suggests, tangling his legs with yours.

You turn onto your side and put an arm around his waist. “Only if you promise that the next time you want to try one of your inventions on me, you warn me first, okay?”

He freezes for the briefest moment and laughs softly before brushing your brow with his lips. “Fair enough. I'm sorry it caught you off-guard." He cuddles closer and you both enjoy a few minutes of calm as the afterglow begins to fade.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye when you feel one of his hands start to inch its way down your body. "You know, the effects should only last a few more hours. How about we make the most of it?” he offers when his cock starts to stir against your thigh.

You’re not exactly sure what making the most of it means, but his eyes sparkle with mischief and you reach for his hand to stop him. “Can we shower first?”

He looks visibly disappointed—it's not that you don't want to do more, but you've been trying not to squirm too much from the cool, tacky sweat drying on your skin. The discharge from your breasts mixed with his cum on your belly, and its left you feeling a bit sticky.

He reconsiders your suggestions and something wolfish sharpens his smile when he starts imagining the new possibilities to take advantage of in the shower together: fondling your chest as he massages you with soapy hands, tasting your warm skin beneath his lips after he rinses you off. If he's lucky, maybe you'll let him go down on you in front of the bathroom mirror, and after he's finished he'll spin you around so you can watch your tits bounce in his hands as he fucks you from behind—

“On second thought, I think that’s a splendid idea, darling,” he murmurs, glancing at your chest briefly before he licks his lips with hungry anticipation.

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me #omswd #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #omswd smut #obey me solomon x reader #obey me fanfic #x reader #gn!reader #tw lactation

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hopelessdazai · 3 months

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Dazai and female s/o being each other first time?

✿ 》Those Promises Of Yours.

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I got you anon. coming right up. [ holy shit zai update. apologies for my absence once again, writing hasn't been a priority recently but I'll try to start up again :) feel free 2 send in vague concepts / thirsts pls ]

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; dazai x f!reader, nsfw, slight corruption from dazais end but its still all consensual, vague mention of self harm once, dazai can't keep his fuckin promises, slightly rough sex, no aftercare but it's hinted at + he's soft at the end anyway. I suck at dialogue.

dazai osamu was a womaniser, a player anything but loyal.

that was something that everyone had learnt to know and only some could bring to love. this fact wasn't foreign to you, and neither was it ignored. though you certainly hadn't anticipated that he himself was a virgin.

so you found yourself in his lap in your apartment. he'd refused to take you back to his, claiming "a princess such as yourself should have the luxury of familiarity," but you could've easily called his bluff with the stench of alcohol on his breath. the place was probably ridden with bottles and signs of his lowest mental points.

he'd never been good at being vaunrable anyway.

dazai fumbles with your shirt, his hands shakily trying to unbutton them in a way that would hopefully erase the concept he didn't know what he was doing. you took it upon yourself to close your hand over his, giving him a soft smile, which he returned. you could almost smell the anxiety dripping from his body. was he sweating?

"it must be the drugs," he mumbles, finding an excuse. his voice is hoarse, tense, even. nothing like the usual confidence he carried himself with; his tone had never been anything but smug. and you liked this side of him. you loved it.

"you're sober." you respond, your tongue had carried nothing but truthfulness this entire time. and you were nervous too. the vaunrability that was required of both of you was enough to keep your mouth without a lie. he laughs breathily, sliding your shirt from your shoulders and unclasping your bra with only mild difficulty.

"I could be masking, no?" the brunette begins, his hand sliding down under your skirt to tap at the inside of your thigh. your breath hitches. "I've always been rather good at hiding when I'm high. you should know that." you shake your head. he didn't smell like any drug. just him. just dazai.

"you're being too conscious to be high." you respond, working to undress him back. it'd be too awkward if you were the only one shirtless, your mind wasn't foggy yet. but you still couldn't get rid of the ache between your legs. he was all you needed.

dazai doesn't respond, merely wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you into a kiss. he was acting, you could feel it. none of his gestures were the same as how you'd see him treat the ladies he'd woo at the bar. it felt real, raw. you kiss him back.

he helps you undress him, you find yourself in a state where the only covers you both possess are your underwear. completely at each others mercy, vaunrable.

he wasn't sure if he hated it or not.

dazai brings a hand down to pull your underwear aside, collecting your wetness with his middle finger. it almost felt like he himself was adjusting to your anatomy, figuring where he'd have to touch to make you feel good. he'd always spoken about wanting to give you the best experience he could.

you wince at the intrusion as he slides his finger into you, feeling him bend down to gently kiss your forehead as he worked you apart like woolen scarfs in the autumn. the warmth of a promise to carry you through to the next spring. an unvoulentary whimper leaves your lips as he brushes against a certain spot, and you swear his eyes darken a shade.

dazai had promised himself he'd make sure it wouldn't hurt for you. he promised that he'd gently ease you in. he'd promised a lot of things. but after seeing you like this, you might as well slice his pinky finger clean off.

he doesn't quite know what's coming over him when he lays you down on the couch, pulling your underwear completely down and tossing them somewhere in the room, he didn't care. he slides a second finger into you and almost lets out a gasp at how you tighten.

he'd promised to be gentle.

"osamu." you whisper, your voice almost foreign to you. his eyes met yours, then did his lips. you'd felt how desperate he'd become, sloppy open mouthed kisses where his tongue tried to cherish your taste for all eternity. maybe calling him by a name he'd never heard wasn't the best idea.

he pulls away, pulling his fingers out and making quick work of shuffling his boxers off. gently sliding his cock in-between the warmth of your folds, daring to slide in without the prep he knew you would've needed.

the prep he promised.

he meets your gaze, noticing the slight fear in your eyes. he knew it'd hurt you, dazai knew damn well the pain the stretch would cause. but something about those eyes of yours, something about the look of fear. it was almost like he didn't care. he didn't mind breaking a promise.

"..hold your breath." He mutters, gradually sliding himself into you, and you let out a whine, trying to hold your breath like instructed. he felt your nails dig into his back. they'd be nice marks to tattoo permanently, maybe you'd be a healthier method of drawing his own blood. his pelvis pressed against yours

he smiled as you let out a shaky exhale, staying still to allow you at least a small adjustment period. cupping your cheeks as a tear fell down your cheek. fuck. he couldn't even find it in him to feel bad anymore. you were so warm.

you'd only managed to focus your eyes to look up at him for a second, before clenching them shut as he snapped his hips against yours. it stung, you could feel the trickle of blood.

"ah- 'samu-.. wait-!" was all you could manage to say, hearing his breath get heavier as he set himself a pace. he wasn't waiting for you to adjust anymore, he wasn't waiting for anything. if he could prioritise himself once, this was the time.

"shh-.. shh.. 'tll feel good. I promise. fuck-" his voice broke, moving a hand to hold onto your thigh, pushing it up to meet your shoulder. you were never this flexible, it almost stung. but you couldn't do anything but trust him.

and something about it did feel good. even as the burn hit you from more areas then you would've liked; something about the desperation behind how dazai fucked you and how he was using you to relieve his stress. it felt good. you enjoyed to be used like this.

your mind fogged, feeling him hit that one spot inside you repeatedly, you were struggling to breathe. struggling to think straight, struggling to focus on anything but the man inside of you. and dazai seemed the same. his mouth half open and bangs out of order, hanging in front of his eyes. you could hear his heavy breaths and faint whines. and it only turned you on further.

your nails dug into his back, the only sensation you processed was his thumb rubbing your clit as you hit your high, chanting out his name like a mantra as he chuckled, his thrusts becoming rougher before he buried himself deep into you, an unfamiliar warmth filling your abdomen. your vision going white.

you almost blacked out for a moment.

"..sweetheart?" a sweet voice called out as you regained your ability to see. dazai's arms were shaking, obviously struggling to keep himself pinned up over you. his eyes were softer, kinder. a man you barely knew. there was a shine of concern in them.

"..are you okay? shit- did I go too far? 'm sorry.. you felt so good.. you're a good girl.." and all you did in response was smile. he'd done enough, he'd always be enough. though the stickiness between your thighs and loss of fullness as he pulled out was mildly discomforting.

"mmhm.. im fine." you reply, feeling him sit himself back, pulling you up and into his arms. pressing you close to him and peppering you with kisses. "I love you.. s'much.. my baby.. im sorry.. i know I broke my promise. i'll get you cleaned up.."

you just smiled. maybe this broken promise wasn't so bad after all.

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jokeringcutio · 3 months

Text

The Grabber x Female Reader “Just as Dangerous” (Explicit/Smut)

Fandoms: Black Phone | Pairing: The Grabber (Albert Shaw) x You (F identifying) Reader Rating: Explicit (see all warnings!)

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Consensual Rough play, Chocking/Belt-play, Daddy-kink, older man/younger woman, Reader is a brat, Reader is just as bad, reader wants it badly, Reader is in true control here, (probably more tags but you know what it is just pure filth and you’ve been warned) fucking the Grabber. For @likoplays

Just as Dangerous

The creaking of the heavy basement door signaled his approach and you quietly listened for his footsteps to come down the stairs.

There he was, finally. He’d left you here on your own for a good while. Too long, in your opinion.

The door closed behind him, his presence filling the space with an electric charge. The mask he wore was a grotesque caricature, its exaggerated frown setting a macabre tone for the encounter. His clothes were either to be called outdated or quirky, with flare pants and an unbuttoned jacket above it, revealing a smooth and nearly hairless chest.

You remained on the worn mattress, your coat underneath you for comfort and isolation, your arms resting on your knees as you stared ahead.

Your pulse was a steady drumbeat in your ears.

He came to a halt in front of you, content to just stare at you before he knelt to be at eye level with your seated form. The man then cocked his head inquisitively, left arm resting on his knee as he crouched in front of you.

"Well, sweetheart, it seems you’ve got something to tell me," his voice sounded muffled, but the urgency of his statement was unmistakable.

You met his gaze, or at least the dark eyeholes of the mask, and watched him in silence. How long would it take before he would snap, you wondered. Would he be easy to rile up?

But his gaze was unwavering and the silence between you stretched longer and longer. Seeing how he remained in front of you, unmoving, his gaze full of expectation and heavy upon you, made your skin crawl. He was resilient, you had to give him that.

"I wouldn’t know what," you responded, injecting a note of nonchalance into your words.

He chuckled—a sound devoid of humor. "Well, I don’t think you’re being honest with me.” A click of his tongue as he stretched his arms in front of him. You noticed the glinting of the silver rings on his fingers. No marriage bands, just ornaments.

“In fact,” his voice lowered a notch, “I don’t like girls who don’t tell the truth. They’re naughty.” You could hear the sharp intake of breath, how he started to struggle with it behind his mask, as if he was getting excited by all this. Did the idea of you being a bad girl get him going? It wouldn’t explain why he’d mostly captured boys till now though.

Oh yes, you knew about the missing children in this area. You had no doubt who you were dealing with.

The Grabber.

“And you don’t want to be a naughty girl,” the man in front of you murmured, “do you?”

His words could have been seductive, his voice low and carrying that dangerous edge that always got you going. Even now, you had to squeeze your legs together at the sound of him. But you knew the game he was playing, how he tried to lure you into a punishment.

You had to force back a chuckle when you saw how the devilish mask tilted to one side as he looked at you questioningly again. Like a puppy pleading for an answer. Yet, you knew it was all a game to him. He must be one of those manipulative men then, you thought. Luring you into a false sense of security, playing the good guy, making you doubt your own brain.

You knew the type and decided not to grace him with an answer, not knowing anything that wouldn’t instantly make you a brat in his eyes. Was it a good thing if you talked back? Or would it spell your doom? No matter how much you liked it when men got rough with you, you were keen to survive. You had your own agenda and no time to die.

If he was looking for a good girl he should look elsewhere. You just weren’t the good girl he was hoping you to be.

“Tell me something,” the man now hissed, his voice still obscured by the mask but low and deliciously dangerous. “How did it feel when you got rid of them?”

Oh.

Now that sparked something in your eyes, like fires that started to burn. It became increasingly hard to suppress your smile when he brought it like that, a simple statement nothing more.

“Delicious,” you purred.

The black coals of the mask started to shimmer, a reflection of the look in your own eyes. The Grabber repositioned himself in front of you.

“So you admit it was you,” a dangerous low growl while he rested his hand against the cold concrete floor, like a predator ready to strike its prey.

You feigned ignorance again, well aware of how you had dropped your guard. But you were smaller than him and you could do the cute look. Most men fell for that – if you played your cards right.

“Oh, don’t play innocent with me,” the Grabber instantly rasped when he saw the look you gave him and deduced what you were trying to do. “You’re no innocent lamb.”

A laugh escaped his throat, heartily and raw. It sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. Then he ran a hand over his head, feeling if the hair was all still strapped behind the bands of his mask. Shoulder-length hair, you noted. Either a dark color, or perhaps already starting to turn grey. It was hard to tell in the artificial yellow glow of the basement’s one little bulb.

But the veins on those hands betrayed age and strength. Strong hands with long, thick fingers. You could feel your juices flowing, moist collecting between your folds as an ache appeared between your legs. Gosh, you were feeling empty.

“I noticed a few familiar names in your contacts list. Made me curious,” he started, but you could hear the grin in his voice despite the mask hiding his expression. You cocked your head and listened to him, curious about how far he had gone and what he had found – but also hooked on the lowness of his voice. You felt a slight throb inside your core, your nipples growing hard against the fabric of the clothes you were wearing.

“Had to dive in a little deeper,” and the way he said it sparked dark fantasies in you. “Found some more. Some deleted conversations. Others only connected via profiles on sites. It made me think.”

"Did you browse my phone?" you asked, staring at him with what you hoped was as little emotion as possible. “That is incredibly rude.”

"Merely happened to find a few names that sounded familiar," he returned casually, as if discussing the weather rather than the contents of your personal communications.

"Can't say I'm sure what you're on about," you lied smoothly, your mind racing as you tried to gauge how much he knew. But you had an inkling. It didn’t take a genius after all.

"No?" He leaned forward slightly. "Let me show you."

To your surprise, the Grabber fished out his own phone from a back pocket. You had half expected him to either reveal your own confiscated cell phone, or to see some printed newspapers. But he was opening Google and had been looking things up. Your gaze flicked to the screen before you could stop it, just to check, but there were no bars. The signal was dead down here, just like everything else that crossed the threshold into this forsaken basement.

"Look," he said, swiping through the device with a careful finger. The soft glow illuminated his mask, casting shadows that danced across the frown etched into its surface. The headlines he showed you were no surprise – men found dead. Murdered. Each face that scrolled past was a victory, a wrong righted by your hands. But seeing them there, in his possession, felt like a noose tightening around your own neck.

Not that you minded a little choking. Made things more thrilling.

He stopped on an article, the face of the last man you had seen alive staring back at you from the screen. "Not willing to admit it yet?" His voice was low, the words slithering through the cold air between you.

"Admit what?" Your heart hammered, but your voice was steady, cold. "So that you might turn me in? Go ahead. Who's going to believe the Grabber?"

His laugh was a low rumble, circling you like a predator. "Why would I go the cops? I am not gonna risk that, love," he said, his voice a taunt, his eyes behind the eyeholes were fixed on you. “Won’t risk you telling on me.”

"Me?" You tilted your head, feigning confusion, even as your mind spun furiously. "Why would I do something so foolish?"

“It doesn’t matter,” the Grabber said, shrugging as he made himself once again comfortable in front of you. You couldn’t help but notice how behind the mask, his eyes kept drifting toward your bound hands. And your cleavage.

"You thought you’d get out of this alive, darling?”

"Hope dies last," you quipped, your tone laced with venom you didn't feel. "But I suppose you wouldn't know much about that, would you?"

His hand moved faster than your eyes could follow, striking your cheek with a force that whipped your head to the side. The sting of the ring on his finger made the hit all the more special. Pain radiated like spider webs across your face, but it was the moan that slipped from between your lips that seemed to freeze the moment, hanging thick in the stale air.

"Fuck, you're a twisted little cunt if you loved that," he hissed. His voice had somewhat changed, became rougher, coarser, and took on a sinister tone. As if a devil was unleashed within him.

He stood in front of you now, panting rapidly. You could see the rise and fall of his naked chest. The way his belly moved, how you longed for him to strike you again.

"Maybe I am," you taunted, even as the ache bloomed into something darker, something forbidden. “Maybe I am so fucked up, I need a good fucking to set me right.”

For a moment it looked like he was going to hit you again, raising his hand in the air until the light reflected on his ring causing a shimmer. You mentally prepared, got excited about it even, sat up a little straighter. But then he reached for you and you felt his fingers grasp your chin tight, holding it in his hands, squeezing your lips together as he chuckled down at you.

“You want it badly, don’t you?” His voice was dripping with sin, his thumb gently brushing past your lips, fingertip pressing down roughly on your tongue until you tasted salt and grime before he roughly let go. Your head snapped to the side but your eyes were still upon him.

"Why don't you hit me, Daddy?” you said, a grin spreading on your face. “I know we both want it."

Another slap hit your cheek instantly, this time, the ring wasn’t present. Not a backhanded slap but he must have used his palm. Your skin grew red and tingled, and you brought up your bound wrists so that you could brush a hand past the soreness.

"That's all you got? I know you can do better, Daddy." Okay, so perhaps you got a little overexcited. But you just loved to tease.

Another slap, this time harder, and while you moaned he was already upon you, his hands firmly on your shoulders. He pounced, testing your limits, his weight pressing you into the musty mattress. His hands slid from your shoulders to your neck and you felt him press his thumbs into your skin.

"Look at what you do to me," he hissed, his arousal unmistakable against your thigh. His hands were iron bands around your neck. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body betraying you with its own treacherous heat.

“What’s that?” His voice was low but you recognized the tease as his hands took away your airflow completely and only choked noises escaped your lips. He pressed the mask closer to your face, the wood brushed against the sensitive skin of your red cheeks.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

He sat up a little straighter and you heard the chuckle behind the mask as he put his weight on you with his hips and legs alone, trapping you effectively underneath him. His hard cock pressed against your stomach through the layers of clothing, but he made no effort to hide it, bumped his hips against you so you were made extra aware.

“Aren’t you a little fuck doll for me?”

You thrashed underneath him, trying to nod, but his grip was too tight. Your throat started to feel deliciously sore, just as he let go.

“Beg me for it.”

The way he said it made tingles run down your spine. Your walls clamped down feebly around nothing, so eager for his cock.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you rasped as you tried to lean up on your elbow and stare the masked man in the eyes. “Now.”

A moment of silence passed as the Grabber stared you down, then he moved up, away from you.

“Not good enough,” he muttered to your irritation, and you instantly sat up, core aching to have this man’s cock inside of you now. You noticed he had started to undo the lower strap of the mask and watched with bated breath how he slowly removed it, the ugly devil’s chin and grin were disposed of, the straps loosely falling to the sides as it hit the concrete floor.

The man removed his belt next, rolling it around one fist until his knuckles turned white and the grin on his face imitated the one you’d seen earlier on the mask.

“Seems like I’ve got to learn the brat a lesson or two about how to suck up to someone.”

He took a step closer to you again and you felt the slick gather between your folds. God, you were wet for this man. How dominating he was, how forceful as his hand curled behind your neck, grasping your skin and forcing you with your head to look up at him.

“Open up,” and you did. You parted your lips and watched as the Grabber spat a big glob of phlegm straight in between your lips, then forced your mouth closed.

“Swallow.”

You made sure your eyes never left his as you did as you were told. The right reaction.

“Hmm, you swallow nicely. Makes me curious…” You felt how he gently rubbed circles with his thumb against your sore cheek, massaging your skin as he seemed to take you in, studying you, before he let go again.

“Stay just like this,” The low rasp came, and you weren’t surprised to see how the man eagerly disposed of his clothes. With hunger, you watched how his erection snapped free from his pants and smacked against his naked belly. His cock throbbed, globs of pre-cum gathered at the slit.

Daringly, you glanced up at him, seeing his smirk as he leered down at you. “Oh, this is no surprise to you, is it, sweetie?”

And then he guided the head of his shaft to your lips. “Open up.”

The salty taste felt like a relief, but it wasn’t enough. You encircled the head of his cock with your lips, sucking greedily and taking pride when he let out a throaty moan. Bobbing your head to take him deeper, you took pleasure in feeling his fingers on your shoulder, fingertips digging deep. It spurred you on, and you only let the cockhead slip from your lips so you could ask for more.

“Hurt me, Daddy.”

Your words set off a new glint in the Grabber’s eyes as his hold on you became more forceful. With his other hand, he gripped the back of your head, forcing you down on his cock until the head bumped against the back of your throat, going so deep it took your breath away.

He held you there, unable to breathe, while he wrapped something cold and hard against your throat. The belt, you recognized. So he hadn’t put it down?

With a rough movement, he bucked his hips, allowing you a moment to breathe before his belt was around your neck, constricting and guiding your movements. Your hands shot up instinctively to try and loosen it, but you lowered them again when you realized what he was up to and smirked at him instead.

“Na-ah,” he teased you, clearly enjoying the sight of you being choked by his belt and his hard cock. “You’re gonna suck Daddy’s cock and you’re gonna like it, sweetheart.”

And that was exactly what happened, as he gave you no other option but to move along his shaft. It only took a tug at the belt, gripped in his fists, to bring your lips closer to his hips. You felt his hot cock deep inside your mouth, the head bumping the back of your throat a few times before he pushed you back until the head nearly popped from between your lips. But then he tugged the belt again, forcing you closer and spearing you on his cock whilst the belt cut off your airflow.

The process was repeated a few times, with you struggling to take him in and to breathe. Low moans escaped the Grabber’s lips and you felt his hips bump against you while his cock hit the back of your throat, sliding in deep. His juices coated your tongue, pre-cum richly flowing from the tip as he made you hum and gurgle around his hard erection. And then he pressed in so deep that your nostrils were pressed against his pubic hairs, taking in his musky scent while he kept you there for a moment too long, enjoying the feel of your throat working around his cock.

“Hmm, lovely,” he murmured as he finally let go, his hands slipping over your head like a caress, allowing you to breathe again. You slipped from his grip, falling onto your ass, hands still bound, while you struggled to catch your breath. You glowered up at him, pussy all wet and excited, wishing he would just fuck you now.

He seemed to catch your silent wish, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, pausing while he took himself in his own strong hand. You watched, enchanted, as he tugged at his own cock, hand running up and down his wet shaft a few times. It looked delicious, the way he was teasing his cockhead, pushing and pulling at the slit until new pre-cum bubbled out the top, streaming down the side of his shaft.

“Oh, is the poor pussy sore? Does it to milk my cock?” He teased, but you could tell his balls were heavy and loaded. You could see his cock twitch at the prospect of finally getting into your tight wet heat.

Your eyes turned wide at the suggestion. Apparently, he saw the internal struggle in your eyes, how you craved his cock, as he cooed you mockingly. “If you want me to fuck you, you must beg nicely.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your bound hands in front of you, fingers digging into your own thighs to keep some form of control in this situation and stabilize yourself. “Fuck you. Stop stalling," you dared, your voice a husky whisper, throat deliciously sore after having deep-throated the Grabber to the full of your capabilities. "Show me what you've got."

"Brat," he spat, but there was a grudging respect in his grip, a recognition of equals in this twisted dance of dominance and desire.

His hands were rough as they seized the fabric of your shirt, ripping it away with a violence that sent shivers down your spine. Each tear echoed in the hollow basement, a symphony of destruction that sang to the darkest part of you.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips even as he stripped you bare.

"Shut up," he growled, but there was no malice in his voice – only hunger, raw and unbridled. He grabbed your pants next, yanking them down with an urgency that left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest like a caged bird desperate for release.

"Can't wait any longer, huh?" you whispered, a challenge laced with desire. Your pulse raced, adrenaline and arousal mingling in a potent cocktail that made the world seem sharper, more vivid.

"Neither can you," he shot back, his eyes locked onto yours. You could feel him, hard and insistent, and you arched your back, inviting him closer.

"Then what are you waiting for old man?" you urged.

With a moan that sounded like it had been torn from the depths of his being, he complied. He sank into you, rough and unyielding, and you gasped at the intensity of it all—pain and pleasure intertwining in a dance as old as time.

Fuck, it felt good. The man’s cock was definitely one of the bigger ones you’d ever had. His thrusts were raw and powerful, the sound of your arousal slickening the way reached your ears while the scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

His hands, strong and large compared to your frame, captured your breasts, wasting no time as he started to fumble with them, roughly knead them, his thumbs ever so often flicking past your nipples until they started to feel sore.

His touch was just right, the balance of pleasure and pain exactly what you needed.

And then, his lips were capturing your nipple, sucking so hard it would surely bruise. You couldn’t withhold another moan as you arched your back, pressing your breasts closer to his face while he tugged with his teeth, biting your nipple before lapping at it with his long wet tongue.

If you had known the Grabber had been like this, you’d have crossed paths with him sooner. Because the man was amazing.

He moved his head to the other side, grey hairs tickling your skin, the cold material of the mask brushing past your naked chest as he repeated his motions with your other nipple, nibbling on it like he was hunger for more of you.

You felt his hips press against yours, felt his cock hit you deep and hard. Your whole body was filled with desire, like hot flames licking inside your core. Your walls pulsed around his cock, begging him to take you deeper, to be rougher.

He was.

His hips moved more brutal, the wet and slick sounds reaching your ears as the hot stench of sex filled your nostrils. He drew his head back, one of your nipples still caught between his teeth, and you watched as he let go. Your nipple deliciously sore and erect as he kept pumping.

You could tell he was gritting his teeth and you tried to move your head closer to his so you could nip at his lips, biting gently until he let out a raw moan.

Deep inside of you, his cock hit that magical spot that made you see stars and you felt your orgasm was near. Just a few more thrust and he would chase you over the peak.

And then he moved angles, hooking one of your legs over his arm so he could hit you deep and hard and you cried out as you reached your peak, walls fluttering around him, milking him for all you were worth.

He didn’t come yet, though.

His thrust were firm as he kept up the pace. A low guttural moan escaped his lips. Your pussy sensitive around him as you came down from your high.

“Thought you were done, love? Think again, doll. I am just getting started.”

You whimpered when he retreated without a warning, his cock slipping from your sopping wet core with shaming ease. You looked up at him, cheeks flushed, still in the afterglow of your orgasm. But then he flipped you over, pushing your chest down on the filthy mattress and forcing your cheek down.

Another cry of pleasure escaped your lips as his cock slid back inside with ease. You felt a hand on your back, gently tapping, as he positioned himself with shallow thrusts. And then there was a rough smack against your ass before he started pounding harshly again, taking no pity on your poor cunt.

You gasped and moaned, trying to support yourself while you felt his hands roam your body, gently brushing past the nape of your neck before roughly squeezing down again.

And when that familiar belt encircled your neck, tightening with each thrust, you did not resist. Instead, you let him maneuver you up to your knees and leaned into the constriction, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps that fueled the fire within you.

In this angle, he was so deep inside, you could feel all of him inside of you. The hardness of his pulsing cock, the veins and all the ridges.

The loss of oxygen made your body squeeze tight around his pulsing shaft, your pussy clamping down like a vice on his hard cock. You tried to move your hips back, riding him as he rode you.

"Fuck, you really do love this, don't you?" he panted, his grip firm yet calculated, knowing just how far to push before it became too much.

"More," you managed to gasp out, riding the razor's edge between suffocation and ecstasy. His pace quickened, desperation clawing at his movements as he neared the precipice of release.

He was battering you now, your insides hurt so much that it felt so good. You weren’t going to be able to walk straight for days. Just the right kind of rough fuck that you had needed.

The man above you grunted as he buried himself balls deep. You could feel his cock pulsing, his balls tightening as he was close to tipping over the edge, His thrusts became rougher, harder, stroking you even deeper inside while his hands squeezed your breasts hard.

"Going to pull out," he warned, voice ragged with the effort of control. But you wouldn't have it. It wasn’t as if coming inside would have any consequences and so, you gave the command.

"Inside," the word a siren call that shattered his last semblance of restraint. With a guttural groan, he spilled himself within you, the act marking you in ways that went beyond the physical. You felt hotness flood deep into your core, felt how his cock hit you deep inside, balls pressed against you tight. It tipped you over the edge and you came again, not noticing he was squeezing one of your breasts tightly in his hand until you started to slowly come down from your high for the second time.

Had you really just done that? Had you really had one of the best fucks in your life?

As you both fought to catch your breath, an absurd bubble of laughter escaped your lips, the sound seemingly out of place in the grimness of your surroundings. He joined in, the chuckle muffled against your skin as he rested his forehead—still masked—against your naked shoulder.

"Didn't know I could enjoy something like this," he murmured, almost reflective amid the panting aftermath. His fingers worked quickly, deftly twisting your bounds until they had loosened. You flexed your fingers before you started to rub your wrists to try and get the blood flowing again.

“So,” he started, his voice a low murmur. “Those men…”

“Exes, almost lovers, men who cheated on my friends or were complete assholes.”

Although he was silent, you saw the slight movement of the mask as his chin tilted. So he had to think about that, huh?

“Like a little angel of justice,” he finally said, but you couldn’t tell if it was meant as a compliment or if you had disappointed him with your explanation.

“More like an angel of terror,” you matter-of-factly replied, brushing your hands past your thighs. “Dang, that was a good fuck though. I could get used to that cock of yours.”

A low hum escaped from behind his mask and you saw his hips jerk slightly. He seemed to like the compliment.

"Could keep you," he mused, the words hanging heavy between you. “Would be nice to have someone to share this all with. Talk to. Work together. Blow some steam off once in a while.”

A hum vibrated in your throat, noncommittal yet laced with dark intrigue "Yes," you whispered, the word slicing through the tension. "I could grow to like this... arrangement."

"Then I’ll better keep you alive, won’t I?" His voice was rough with amusement, the complete opposite of the frowning emotion on the mask.

“If you want to do this again,” you said.

He leaned closer to you and for a moment you feared what he was going to do. But when you felt his chapped lips press against your forehead you had to suppress a chuckle, because you had not expected for him to show this much sentiment.

With a push, he slid himself off the mattress. His bare feet sounded on the dirt floor like dull thuds. He turned, reaching for his discarded clothes.

A mistake.

With a grin, you revealed his belt from behind your back where you had kept it hidden while you had talked in the afterglow, the leather cool and smooth in your grip.

Carefully, you slipped from the mattress, naked feet on the floor, trailing after him. He was kneeling to pick up his pants when you, as silent as a ghost, came to stand behind him. He didn’t notice your presence until the belt was looped around his neck, catching him by surprise.

"Well, I really enjoyed our night together,” you said airily, like you hadn’t been his prisoner until a moment ago. “But I really got to be going. There’s a man waiting for me. Can’t disappoint a friend.”

You tightened the belt, the knuckles of your fists turning white by the sheer force while you enjoyed the sounds of him gasping. His hands reached for the belt, fingers unable to wiggle their way in between and relieve the pressure. Too thick, you thought as you watched the man struggle in your grip from above. Nice fingers to feel scissoring your cunt. But nope, you had to store that thought away for another rainy day. Perhaps next time when you visit him, you could get him to do a little foreplay on you.

The fact you even considered returning to this criminal was perhaps telling enough.

“I’m sure you’re clever enough to understand that next time when I come around, we’re gonna be fucking on your bed… or your couch or your kitchen. Any place that is not your creepy little basement.”

Then, you smirked, allowing him a little more space to breathe again. Which reminded you…

“I’m sure you’ll think twice about upsetting me,” your grin grew as you leaned forward, the belt tightening around his throat again while you whispered near his ear.

“Don’t forget,” you breathed, voice a low murmur, “You're only breathing because I allow it."

A serpent's hiss escaped your lips as you rose to your knees. The belt slipped away from his throat, falling to the floor with a clatter. His choked laughter bubbled up, the sound echoing off the concrete walls as you wrenched his phone from his pocket.

"Go ahead, try me," you taunted, the thrill of control sending shivers down your spine.

With a swift push against his chest, you sent him stumbling back. Not waiting to see if he recovered, you picked up your coat so you’d at least have something to cover your nakedness, and ascended the stairs, his laughter chasing you, a mad symphony to accompany your escape.

You stepped out of the basement, coming eye to eye with a large dog. With a grin, you flung the Grabber’s phone aside and onto the kitchen table, the bars finally popping up onto the screen, a freshly sent message illuminating the screen.

“Sit,” you told the dog, ignoring his growling as your eyes caught sight of something much more important. You stepped over to the kitchen counter, globs of sperm dripping down the inside of your leg. The dog seemed to have noticed it and stopped growling, curiously coming closer with his snout to brush past the inside of your leg – probably smelling his own master and being confused by it - while you picked up your own phone from the kitchen counter.

The Grabber’s phone number flashed on your screen and you grinned. You added his number. It would forever be embedded in your list… another name among many.

The man’s laughter still rang in your ears when you left his house, pinning the location on your phone and saving it for later.

Oh, you’d be back. And he’d better not break your heart.

AN: Hello lovelies. There's more fics to come, another Grabber one, a bit of Stu Macher. Bit of Afton. You'll see. For more, follow me (:

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~

#albert shaw x reader #the grabber x you #the grabber x reader #brat reader

151 notes · View notes

tinfairies · 1 year

Note

im not sure if this is consensual because of the s/o being in the state of intoxication,, but how would sandor, cersei, petyr, oberyn react to having an innocent s/o that is an insanely horny drunk??

Sandor tries to hold back his laughter as his beloved tries to climb him. They requested a kiss, getting up onto their tippy toes and nearly fell in doing so. "I think you need to lay down." he tells them, gripping their shoulders to steady them. They giggled and pressed their body against his, heir hand immediately groping his crotch. "Hmm only if you come with me." they look up at him through their lashes. Damn they knew exactly how to wrap him around their fingers.

Sandor sighs, and picks his lover up. They cry with laughter and wrap their arms around his neck, burying their face into his neck and leaving kisses in their stead. He was going to have fun trying to wrangle them.

Cersei certainly finds it entertaining when her lover is drunk and thinks they're being smooth with their flirting. She'll roll her eyes and brush them off, but truth is she loves the attention. She'll capture her beloved's chin between her finger and her thumb and make them look at her. Of course they try to lean in and kiss her, she dodges them and they fall forward onto her lap.

"I say it's time you switched to water." she'll say raising a brow. Her lover just buries their face into her thigh, their hands running up her legs. Cersei smirks, she knows what they want. She could certainly give into them, but what's the fun in that. She wants them to beg.

Petyr would definitely take advantage of this opportunity. His beloved is hanging all over him, and it's truly amusing to him. He asks them questions, silly little ones at first, then he starts asking more serious ones. He has to make sure they truly love him and want to be with him of course.

"My love, I can't bed you while you're in this state." Petyr lies, he just wants to hear them beg, and they do. His lover pouts and keeps pulling at his shirt, saying they need him. It's certainly a stroke to his ego to hear that his beloved is not only devoted to him, but is willing to beg for his cock.

Oberyn is quite amused. His beloved is very shy when sober but after half a glass of wine and they're trying to undress him in public. He calms them down, holding their hands and kissing their lips.

"We have plenty of time later to wrap ourselves around eachother. For now let's finish our party." he smiles softly as they pout. Oberyn loves their wandering hands and flirty eyes. He can't wait for an opportunity to drag them off, why must politics rely on his presence. He wants to just ravage his lover already.

#Game of thrones #game of thrones headcanon #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got imagine #got x reader #got headcanons #Got #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #cersei lannister #cersei lannister x reader #petyr baelish #petyr baelish x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #Fluff #Smut #Reactions

2K notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 7 months

Text

Dressing For Revenge

Summary: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who's willing to help you get over him.

Warnings: dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), angry sex (consensual), MUST BE 18+ TO READ

Word Count: 8.6k

Based on this request.

A/N: This is my first new fic of my rebrand. I hope you enjoy! Please be kind. FEEDBACK IS LOVE.

“God, you look hot, Y/N.”

You smirked at your reflection in the mirror and at your friend Kelsie who sat on your bed behind you.

“Not bad, huh?” you wiggled your brows as your hands swept down your hips, accentuating the slim shape of the dress and your hourglass silhouette.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.”

You chuckled. “Thanks, Kelse.”

“That is the look you’re going for, right?” your friend asked. “The get me drunk and fuck me senseless look? Or is it the look but you can’t touch idea?”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll see,” you smirked.

“Huh?” Kelsie rose from the bed as you grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the front door. “What does that mean?”

“It means…it depends on who I run into.”

“Not Luke.”

You grimaced at the mention of his name. “Fuck no!” you yelled before quickly masking your disdain for your ex with a sweet smile. “But who knows who else will be there tonight.”

“There’s the Y/N I know,” Kelsie beamed, following you out to the awaiting Uber.

Nightclubs weren't really your scene. At least they hadn't been until you'd met Luke. He was rich and liked to flaunt it. His mission was always to see and be seen. So whether it was a Hollywood party or the loudest disco, he knew where the action was and always made an appearance. When he started taking you to clubs and parties, you weren't sure it was your thing. While you liked the personal attention he gave you and the money he spent on you, you didn't much enjoy watching other girls falling all over him. Especially drunk girls.

But you had to admit, even now, you had gotten used to jetset the lifestyle a bit. You'd come to know some great people, Kelsie included, because of the nightlife you'd shared with your ex.

Which unfortunately was the exact reason he was now your ex. Because of his lifestyle.

You could still smell the weed and whiskey that hung in the air that night you'd found him in the guest room at that party in Malibu with that little tramp. She'd barely been legal, for fuck sake, but that was beside the point. Up until then, you’d had your suspicions that Luke was cheating on you. Hell, he’d flirt with girls right in front of you. But every night he’d take you home and make you feel like the Queen of the World, and all your doubts managed to fizzle away like the bubbles in the champagne he’d paid for earlier.

That dreadful night, however, your suspicions had been confirmed in plain sight, the harsh reality stinging your eyes with the tears that it brought. Luke had begged for forgiveness later, swearing on his grandmother’s grave (who was still alive, by the way) that he would never do it again and that he loved only you. You’d told him you needed time to think about it, but it only took two days to find out from a mutual friend that he’d been out with another woman at yet another nightclub.

So stepping past security into this club was already starting to make you have second thoughts and leave a bitter taste in your mouth. But when Kelsie grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, you remembered the reason why you came.

Confiding in Kelsie, you promised you were ready to move on and have a nice girls’ night out. You let her believe it was her idea to get as dolled up as you had. And you did appreciate the little persuasion she’d provided. But truth be told, you would have gone out tonight with or without her. Perhaps moving on wasn’t the correct term for it, but one thing was for certain. You needed to get laid…badly.

Kelsie ordered you both cocktails from the bar while you kept your eyes peeled for contenders. You locked eyes with a handsome Latino who gave you a smile. You smiled back.

Possibly… you thought to yourself.

“Here you go, Y/N,” you heard Kelsie say as she handed you a glass.

“Thanks,” you muttered, quickly taking a long sip through the little straw.

“So how’s the turn out?” she grinned, turning to face the rest of the club alongside you.

“Not bad,” you chuckled. “Not great either. But the night is still young.”

“Hmm, someone’s eyeing you at two o’clock.”

Gazing over the crowd, you caught sight of the guy Kelsie was referring to. Eh. He was okay, but nothing to flip over. He definitely fell into the look but you can’t touch category. If he came by the bar, you’d let him buy you a drink, but that was it.

“Good evening ladies,” you heard a voice say from the other side of Kelsie. It was the Latin Lover. “What are we drinking tonight?”

“Nothing fancy,” Kelsie grinned, crossing one leg over the other as she batted her lashes. “Just rum and Coke.”

“Ah, a Cuba Libra!” the handsome man beamed, placing his hand on his chest. “You know, that’s where I’m from.”

“Cuba? No way!”

“Okay…it’s where my father’s from,” he held up his free hand and nodded sheepishly. “But I am still proud of my heritage.”

Kelsie giggled as the man leaned against the bar and introduced himself to her. You took this as your cue. The unspoken word to back off and let your friend take the lead. No harm done. You hadn’t begun to make the rounds yet.

“Going to the ladies’,” you leaned over and whispered to Kelsie. She gave a nod of acknowledgement as you slid off your stool.

As you made your way toward the back of the club, a handful of men caught your eye. You held your head high and winked when needed, flipping your hair off your bare shoulder.

And that’s when you saw him. He wore the jacket you’d bought him for Christmas, his ever present whiskey glass in his hand, a long legged twig of a girl attached to his hip as he chatted with a group of people.

Stopping in your tracks, you felt your hands form fists at your sides, the bile rising in your throat. Then taking a deep breath, you tried to think of the best way to get around Luke and his group in order to get to the bathroom without him seeing you.

Zig-zagging through the crowd, you just about made it to the other side of Luke’s clique when you heard your name and felt a hand around your wrist. Your automatic reaction was to turn toward him, your brain instantly cursing you for it. With your lips pursed, you scowled at him.

“You look amazing,” he said. As if you didn’t know.

“Hmph,” you grunted.

“How are you?” he asked as he stepped closer, his other hand grazing your hip. But you quickly stepped back, realizing he was trying to pull you in. Releasing your arm from his hold, you rolled your eyes. The nerve of this guy!

“As if you care.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” he pleaded, his blue eyes giving you the look that used to make you melt. But you knew all his tricks now. “Of course I care. I’ve always cared about you.”

“Seriously?”

You were ready to slap him when the woman next to him turned around, sliding her bony hand up his arm.

“Baby, who is this?” she cooed.

“Oh, this is-”

“Nobody,” you interrupted, standing up straight. Then you turned swiftly, heading for the restrooms with determination.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, blurring your vision as you scrambled to get to your destination, ready to hide in a stall until your composure was contained. Suddenly, you felt a body slam into your chest, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice declare as two hands grabbed hold of your upper arms to steady you. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Fuck,” you stumbled, shaking your head. Getting a clearer image of the man who ran into you, you didn’t bother to exchange niceties. “Yeah. Watch where the fuck you’re going, asshole!”

You only stayed long enough to see the shocked look on his face before running toward the ladies’ room. Slamming into the door with your palms, you found an empty stall and locked yourself inside. Taking deep breaths, you counted to ten like your therapist had taught you to do.

Motherfucking Luke! Why did he have to be here? Of all the clubs in L.A. You’d known there had been a slight chance he would be at this club. You had gone to it a couple times with him before. But he also frequented others. Why this club? Why tonight?

Inhaling a jagged breath, you shook your head. No! You were not going to let one stupid prick ruin your night just because you happened to run into him. No matter how rich or good looking he was. No matter how good in bed he was.

Ugh…you sighed as you slid down the wall. You missed it. The sex. It had been amazing, delicious. Luke could make you come like…

Shut up, Y/N!

There’s other men who could make you feel just as good, if not better. And you had already taken a gander at some prospects tonight.

Washing your hands at the sink and doing your best to touch up your face, you took another deep breath and made your way back to the club. The loud music hit you in the face as your heels clicked along the floor, setting the tone for the rest of the evening. You spotted Kelsie on the dance floor with Mr. Cuba Libra and decided it was time to find yourself someone to dance with, or at least buy you a drink. You didn’t even bother to look in Luke’s direction, and instead decided to head back to the bar.

You saw his back first, a dark maroon jacket covering his broad shoulders. But it was the curls on the nape of his neck that caught your attention, the way they whispered against his collar so delicately. And when he turned his head slightly to talk to the person next to him, you knew for certain it was the man you’d bumped into earlier.

You watched him lift a highball glass to his lips, taking a swig. The rings on his fingers made you swoon inwardly, a secret turn-on of yours. When he turned away again, you decided it was time to bite the bullet. With your tail between your legs, you sauntered up to the stranger and poked him in the back. He turned inquisitively, immediately raising his eyebrows when he noticed it was you.

“I believe…” you paused to clear your throat. “I owe you an apology.”

You watched the man’s face soften, his full lips making a perfect circle before he said, “Oh.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and called you an asshole.”

Giving a shrug, he slid off his stool and stood to face you.

“It’s alright. Sometimes I am one.”

You caught the corner of his mouth twitching before it grew into a smirk, pushing his cheek until a deep dimple appeared. Automatically, you smiled, feeling a weakness in your knees. Holy shit.

Getting your bearings, you blinked. “Anyway, just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t…feeling well.”

“I reckoned it was something like that. I saw you run for the toilets.”

Sheepishly looking down at your hands, you nodded. “Yeah. I was…in a hurry, and you ran into me. But I shouldn’t have been so rude.”

“Apology accepted,” he grinned wider, holding out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his warm, ringed hand.

Then the jerk had the nerve to cover your hand with his other one as he leaned forward and looked you in the eyes. “Are you feeling better now, Y/N?”

You immediately felt like syrup was oozing down your body at the way he said your name.

“Kinda,” you teased. “But I’d feel much better with a drink.”

If you hadn’t already, the moment Harry smiled the biggest smile yet, his eyes twinkling as he guided you back to the bar, you decided you’d let him do more than buy you a drink. You’d let him try to make you come tonight.

The music was loud enough to send each pulse and vibration running through your veins. And the liquor Harry had offered you added to the sensation, making you feel weightless and on top of the world. But most of all, the feeling of his body against your back as you both swayed and grinded sent you to a hypnotic state of bliss.

“Who’s that?” you suddenly heard Harry whisper in your ear.

“Huh? Who?”

“That bloke you’ve had your eye on since we stepped onto the dance floor.”

“I don’t-” you choked, “know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N,” Harry said, turning you around to face him. Clipping your chin with his finger, he forced you to look at him. “I’m pretty observant. You may be dancing with me but your gaze is glued to that man in the grey jacket over there. Now, either you really fancy him, or it’s someone you know.”

“I’m sorry,” you lowered your eyes, embarrassed and a little ashamed that he noticed. “It’s my ex.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not…I mean…I don’t want him back or anything. If that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t know he was going to be here,” you confessed.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” said Harry. “But thanks for telling me.”

“I’m sorry I was looking over at him,” you continued, pressing your hands against his chest. You felt relief when he didn’t object. “It’s over between us…it’s just…”

“Still a little raw?” Harry finished.

“Yeah.”

“I get it. I just got over a breakup, too.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s been a couple months, but yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned.

Harry’s mouth curved into a smile. “Stop saying that. You didn’t do anything. I was just curious.”

“Still…it was rude of me,” you returned the smile. “Here I am dancing with this incredibly attractive guy…”

“Who?” Harry playfully feigned stupidity, looking around him. When you giggled, he grinned wider, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. You blushed. “Oh, you mean me?”

“Who’s also a charmer,” you added.

“C’mere,” he instructed, pulling you against his body again, his hands sliding down your hips. “I know you don’t know me, Y/N. But I can show you a good time and make you forget about whatshisname. Even if just for one night.”

Your eyes twinkled with lust as you gazed into his green ones. You imagined kissing his full lips, his mustache tickling you, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. In a moment of excitement, you lifted your hand to touch it, your fingers grazing across his jaw.

“I’d like that. Very much,” you purred.

Slowly, Harry leaned down, and with his fingertips digging deeper into your hips, he covered your mouth with his. He tasted of whiskey, but not like Luke used to. This was sweeter, with a hint of cherries. Wanting to explore his mouth further, you slid your hands up his shoulders and fingered the wisps of hair on his neck as he allowed you access to his tongue. You swore you felt him groan as he pulled you even closer.

While the beat still pulsed around you, you found a particular pulse of your own, racing through your veins like a newly lit fire that you’d thought had long died out. As Harry continued to seduce your mouth with his tongue, your fingertips found his chest once again where you slid your palm inside his shirt and ran it across his bare chest. The touch seemed to ignite something in Harry too, and you felt him chuckle against your lips before he pulled away, grabbing your wrists.

“You’re gonna make me strip you right here and have my way with you, baby,” he growled.

His hungry eyes told you he could very well do just that. Lifting his gaze, however, his smirk fell as he looked past you.

“Hmm, looks like the tables have turned.”

“What?” you asked.

Cocking his head, he gestured behind you. Turning slightly, you caught Luke glaring at you. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t approve of your sexy little display with Harry, or might even feel a tinge of jealousy.

Hmmph, you shrugged off the notion. Luke had never shown any sign of jealousy as long as you’d known him. Still, it made you a little excited to know he was keeping tabs on you.

“I’ll be damned,” you heard Harry chuckle. “I’d say he’s a wee bit unhappy, Y/N.”

“Serves him right,” you let the words slip.

“I’m gonna guess he was the possessive type.”

“Actually, no,” you replied. “In public he barely acted like he knew me. I’d find him flirting with every other woman in the room.”

“But he still expected you to be with him, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah…”

“While he could do whatever he wanted.”

You furrowed your brows, finally understanding Harry’s point. “Yeah!”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Harry said, his voice low but loud enough for you to hear. “Didn’t appreciate you.”

“Probably not,” you sighed, your hips still swaying as Harry held you close.

“Definitely not,” he retorted, lifting his right hand to slide it under your ear. "Come home with me, Y/N. Make him really jealous. Make him realize what he's missing."

You snorted in disbelief as your fingertips tickled the back of his hand. “I doubt he’d even notice if I left with you.”

“I beg to differ,” said Harry. “The way his eyes are shooting daggers at me right now says otherwise.”

“I don’t like to use people, Harry,” you claimed.

He threw his head back laughing, and you could feel the vibration in his chest against your own.

“Seriously, Y/N? Isn’t that why you’re here? Why we’re all here? Regardless of whether or not your ex had shown up at this club tonight, wasn’t your intention to get back at him? To find someone to help you forget?”

“Well…yeah…kinda,” you stammered.

“And wouldn’t I just be perfect to help in that regard?”

You felt your face flush as you looked into his eyes. He was absolutely right. Your goal had been to get back at Luke tonight, if only to prove to yourself that you didn’t need him. And Harry was so sexy and willing…

“Yes,” you heard yourself say.

You followed Harry to the bar where he paid his tab, walking right past Luke and his group. Though you dared not turn your head to look at him, you could somehow feel his gaze on you.

“Ready?” Harry asked, stuffing his wallet into his pocket.

“You have no idea how ready I am,” you teased.

Harry didn’t miss your tone. He pulled you close once again, planting a wet kiss on your lips, right there for everyone, especially Luke, to see. When your mouths separated, you licked your lips seductively.

“And you have no idea how badly I want to touch you right here, right now,” Harry murmured in your ear. “Let’s go.”

As soon as Harry grabbed your hand, you heard your name being called. You turned to see Luke incredulously glaring at you.

“You can’t be serious!” he shouted.

“Excuse me?”

“This prick? You’re leaving with him?”

“What’s it to you?” you shouted back. “I don’t belong to you anymore, remember?”

“I fucked up, Y/N! I thought you were forgiving me!”

“You thought wrong!” you chuckled. Then you looked over at the woman you had assumed he was with. “Does she know you’re a cheater? Or have you been lying to her like you did to me?”

“Y/N,” you heard Harry say, tugging on your hand. “He’s not worth your time, baby.”

“Naw, see…” Luke yelled, clenching his jaw as he stepped forward. “You don’t get to call her that. She’s not yours!”

“She is tonight, mate.”

While the idea of being anyone’s possession was usually appalling, the way Harry said that made your legs weak. And the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet made you feel safe.

“You fucking-”

“Luke, man!” someone called out. You watched as two of his friends held him back and told him to calm down.

“C’mon, Y/N,” whispered Harry before he pulled you through the crowd and out the front door to the valet where he stopped and looked at you. “Are you okay?”

“No, but I will be,” you replied as he pushed your hair from your face.

“I can just take you home if you’d like. We don’t have to-”

“No. I want to.”

“You sure?”

You merely nodded before grabbing his jacket and pulling him into another deep kiss. You felt him moan against your lips, reigniting the fire in your core. A black car pulled up to the curb then as you released him.

“I need to feel you tonight, Harry,” you whined. “Please.”

“Anything you want, baby,” he sighed before guiding you to his car.

You felt a little sleazy and a twinge of guilt for leaving Kelsie at the club. But when you texted her in Harry’s car, she swore she was fine and having the time of her life with her Cuban guy. She also gave both you and Harry kudos for not falling into Luke’s trap and letting a full fight break out. Though she hadn’t seen exactly what happened, she had heard a commotion and then caught the seething look on Luke’s face when she headed for the bathroom.

“Everything alright?” Harry asked when he stopped at a red light.

“Um…yeah…” You turned off your phone and looked up at him. “Just fine.”

“Good,” he grinned, gently placing his hand on your knee. “My place is just up here.”

You tried your best to not gawk at the stately home as Harry turned into the circular driveway. Shit, even Luke’s house wasn’t this extravagant. You smiled over at Harry as he killed the engine and stared at you.

“Still wanna come in?” he smirked.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together at his choice of words.

Harry chuckled low, shaking his head. You thought he was going to add to the spice that sizzled in the air, but instead he opened his car door. He was already at your side before you barely had your legs out. He helped you out of the car, sliding his arm around your waist, and he stared into your eyes as he slammed the door shut behind you.

Harry’s house was gorgeous to say the least. When you stepped into the foyer, you immediately noticed the grand staircase, a large statue and a painting above the mantel that was no doubt an original.

“Can I get you a drink?” he offered. “Scotch or a glass of wine?”

“Actually…” you blushed, “I could really go for some water. My throat feels dry.”

“No problem,” he grinned. “Kitchen’s this way.”

You followed Harry through the living room where he peeled off his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. As he rolled up a shirt sleeve with one hand, you saw him grab a remote with the other which set the fireplace aglow. Damn!

Turning the corner into the kitchen, you watched as Harry opened what looked like a large pantry but turned out to be the refrigerator.

“Well!” you gasped, unable to hold in your amazement any longer. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”

That low chuckle that you’d already come to adore rose from his chest and dimples appeared in his cheeks as he set two bottles of sparkling water on the counter. Then he surprised you further by not only getting down two glasses from the cabinet, but then filling them with ice and pouring the water over it.

“I do alright, I reckon.”

He handed you a glass and you took a generous sip before lowering it. “So what do you do?”

“I’m in real estate.”

“Okayyyy… No surprise there,” you commented as you gestured around the area. “I suppose that’s how you scored this gorgeous mansion?”

Harry laughed, nearly spitting his water. “It’s not a mansion.”

“Yeah, it is. Fuck, you are rich if you can’t tell that.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No! Why would it? Unless…oh my God, you’re not married, are you?”

“No,” Harry snorted.

“Engaged? Separated? Newly divorced with an ex wife you owe a ton of alimony to?”

“No,” Harry laughed harder. Then he set his glass on the counter and placed his hands on your arms. “Y/N, I promise, I’m none of those things.”

“Then…how? Why?”

“Why am I still single?”

You nodded first before managing to squeak out a yes.

“Same reason you are,” he replied softly, his hands sliding up your shoulders and finding your jaw.

“What do you mean?”

“I was with the wrong person. And it took me a long time to realize.”

Harry’s words hung in the air as you tried to conjure up your own, to no avail. Instead you stared at his lips, now hydrated from the water, as his thumbs ran across your cheeks.

“Was she a cheater, too?” you finally asked.

Harry blinked his eyes softly. “Yeah.”

Who the hell would cheat on you? is what you wanted to say. Instead, you said, “Fuck them.”

“Yeah.”

Tilting his head, Harry captured your lips with his, sending a wave of desire down to your toes. Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and you hastily began to unfasten them. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, Harry tugged the hem of his shirt and removed it completely, tossing it on the floor. Then with your mouths still intertwined, he lifted you up and set you on the kitchen counter. Sliding his hands up your thighs, he grinned against your lips.

“I’ve been dying to get this fucking little dress off of you all night.”

“Yeah? How do you wanna do it?” you purred, leaning back and sticking your tits out.

“Hmm. Part of me wants to just tear it off right here,” he said, his sultry eyes burning into yours. “But the other part of me wants to take you upstairs and do it slowly. So slowly you can hardly stand it. Taking my time with you, kissing you, licking you, peeling your dress off inch by inch until you’re writhing and whimpering my name.”

“Mmm, I like the second one,” you breathed.

“Who says you get a vote, hmm?” Harry raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Your mouth remained in the O shape as Harry continued to run his hands up your legs and under your dress. You scooted closer to him on the counter, as much as you possibly could without slipping off. Harry quickly understood your intent, pushing himself between your legs, his hands finding their way to your ass where he squeezed.

“So what’s it gonna be?” you inquired, just before Harry lowered his head and kissed the exposed skin at the top of your breast. You gasped at the sudden touch, his lips moist and cool from the iced water.

Allowing Harry to take his time answering, you watched his sensual mouth caress your chest as you felt yourself get wetter and wetter. His fingertips pinched your sensitive skin on your rear until he found the waistband of your thong.

“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N,” he murmured as he pulled the elastic and made it pop against your hip. “You smell like cherry vanilla, and you taste like it too.”

You grinned at him, sliding a perfectly manicured nail down his chest and grabbing hold of his cross necklace.

“You like?”

“Mmm, yes. I wanna taste some more. But I wanna do it upstairs.”

“Lead the way, honey,” you beamed.

Seven thousand tiny nerves in your body were set afire as you took Harry’s hand and followed him up the enormous staircase. You stole tiny glimpses into each room as he led you to the end of the hall, stopping at a set of double doors that were opened to a stunning master suite.

“I’d show you the rest of the house, but I’d rather get down to business if it’s okay with you,” Harry smirked.

“Of course,” you agreed.

Stepping into the bedroom, you caught sight of the California King sized bed covered in luxurious linens. The entire room had the most intoxicating, manly aroma, like tobacco and patchouli.

“Wow, you certainly don’t scrimp,” you commented.

“I like to think I have good taste,” he said, grabbing your waist.

You chuckled as he pulled you close, goosebumps erupting all over your flesh. You ran your fingers down his chest, tracing his tattoos.

“I like these birds,” you said. “They don’t represent you and your ex do they?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I had these long before I ever…y’know. Met her.”

“Ah okay. Good.” And with that, you leaned forward and softly kissed each bird. When you lifted your head, Harry was grinning at you.

“I thought I was the one who was getting a taste.”

“You also said you wanted to take your time. Maybe I’m a little impatient, Harry.”

With a low, sexy laugh, Harry guided you backwards toward the bed. When your back hit the silk duvet, you watched him hover over you, the dim light creating a glow around his chestnut hair. A cluster of clunks sounded as you both kicked off your shoes. You smiled up at Harry, the excitement and anticipation both alluring.

“I am gonna take my time, darling,” he confirmed. “So slow that you’ll be begging me, your sweet pussy throbbing in agony.”

“Oh my God,” you gulped. This was going to be either torture or heaven. Maybe both.

Starting with a soft, sweet kiss, Harry let you get comfortable on the bed. The second kiss was deeper, his tongue sliding into your mouth like a warm, wet snake, eager to meet its mate. You kissed him back, one hand on his neck, the other tangling in his curls. You sighed as you felt his body relax and situate on top of yours, his legs between yours and his hands cradling your head.

You could still taste a twinge of whiskey on his tongue, and that mixed with the incredible fragrance in the room made you light headed. As Harry continued to kiss you, you felt the urge to feel him. Pushing your hips up, you could feel his erection between your legs. But when you slid your hand down his side to get a touch, Harry grabbed your wrist and pinned it down on the bed next to you. You whined in protest, but Harry only resumed his assault on your mouth.

You wondered if you’d ever been kissed this way. Luke certainly never did this. He wasn’t one to skip foreplay, but he definitely liked to move things along. And even in high school when you were still a virgin, guys never concentrated so thoroughly on the kissing part. This was…different. But also incredibly satisfying. Harry was an excellent kisser, to put it mildly.

When he seemed to be content with your lips, Harry moved on to your neck, then your shoulder. Reaching the skinny strap of your dress, he looped his fingers through and pulled it aside. You hitched a breath when he’d pulled both sides down your shoulders and kissed the tops of your breasts again. He held onto your waist as he slid his tongue across your skin. You felt yourself hike your hips up again, needing the friction.

“It zips in the back,” you heard yourself say.

“What, baby?” Harry asked, lifting his head to look at you. One strand of hair had fallen on his forehead. God, he was gorgeous.

“My dress,” you breathed. “There’s a zipper in the back.”

“I know,” he smirked.

You whimpered low, squirming underneath him. “Aren’t you…please?”

“Oh, you’re begging already? I’m not even halfway there yet, love.”

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“I need you to touch me, Harry.”

“I am touching you.”

“You know what I mean!” you cried.

Harry shook his head and tsked. “I told you I’m taking my time. We’ll get there, babe. Okay?”

You sighed through your nose. “Fine.”

“Are you gonna behave? Or do I need to punish you?” he teased.

“Fuck! Punish me, please! I need to feel you.”

“Ohh!” Harry sat back on his knees and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t know you were a naughty girl.”

“Well, now you do,” you said flatly.

Harry chuckled that sexy way again, making your wetness pool even more in what was left of your pitiful panties.

“I thought you wanted revenge,” Harry stated.

“Revenge for what?”

“Your ex. To prove you’re better off without him.”

“I am,” you agreed.

“Did he kiss you like that?” Harry asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Did you like it when I did it?”

Smiling gently, you nodded. “Very much.”

“Don’t you think you deserve to be kissed like that?”

“I…”

“What about touched like this?”

Harry continued, running his palms up your thighs until he reached the hem of your dress. You stared at him when he paused, then slid them further to your panties. You felt him glide his thumb across the center, so softly you almost whined at the lack of friction. But then he repeated the motion, pressing little by little each time.

Your breaths became faster, quickened by each press of his thumb. He didn’t remove his eyes from yours, watching you as you started to shift your hips and let out tiny moans.

“Is that where you wanted to be touched?” Harry inquired.

“Mmm, yes,” you managed to sound between breaths.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Perhaps I was wrong with taking my time.”

“I told you.”

The cackle that came from Harry was unexpected, but at least he now understood how ready you were.

“Here I thought I was trying to prove to you what I think you deserve, when what you really need is a good fuck.”

“God yes, please!” you cried.

When Harry chuckled a little more, you suddenly rose up onto your elbows.

“I’m sorry, that didn’t sound right,” you said.

“What do you mean?”

“It sounded selfish. I don’t mean to imply I didn’t like all the other stuff.”

“No, I get it,” Harry shook his head. “And you’re definitely not selfish.”

“No?”

“Not at all. You deserve a good fuck, too.”

You bit your lip. “So do you.”

“Yeah?” Harry crawled up your body, resuming his previous position. This time his cock was even harder, poking you in just the right place.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned.

Sliding his hands around your waist, Harry reached for the zipper on the back of your dress and pulled it down. A loud breath escaped your throat when he finally slipped it down and over your hips.

“Fuck me!” he exclaimed with a sigh. “Look at you, you gorgeous thing.”

Before you could reply, Harry’s mouth was on your breast, sucking on your nipple. You moaned explicitly at the instant and much needed contact. When he’d given both nipples equal attention, he changed course to your belly, slithering down your body until he situated himself between your thighs.

“I think, kitten…” he cooed, grabbing hold of the sides of your thong, “that these need to go. They’re much too wet to keep wearing.”

You groaned in agreement, letting Harry remove your panties completely.

“I reckon I can help with that too,” he added, placing his palm on your inner thigh before sticking out his tongue and lapping your skin there.

Holy shit! He hadn’t even touched your clit yet and you were already about to explode.

Harry repeated the action on your other thigh before finally…finally centering himself at your pussy. He opened you gently, then so delicately pressed his tongue to your clit. You almost came unglued as he started to move it in various lines and shapes, adding a bit more pressure to each lick.

“God damn, kitten, you do taste good. So delicious.”

As he resumed his oral pleasure on you, you began to pant and moan, grabbing hold of his hair and curling your toes. Fuck, what this man could do with his mouth!

Just when you started to feel the burn in your core and thought you might go over the edge, a finger joined in on the fun, slipping past your juices with ease. You felt an extra tightness in your stomach, your legs trembling next to Harry’s head.

“Oh God! Harry! Baby! So….so good!”

You heard him hum against your pussy, his tongue flickering in the best rhythm, and a second finger slid in with the first.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!” you cried, grabbing fists of his hair.

Your orgasm thundered through your entire body with Harry still transfixed on your pleasure. It seemed to last for ages, like you couldn’t stop.

“Harry! Oh shit!”

You finally came down after a couple more seconds, your body limp. Harry lifted his head finally, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiped away your juices from his chin. Then he crawled up the bed again to face you. When he leaned in for a kiss, you backed away.

“What…what are you doing?” you asked.

“Um…was gonna kiss you?”

“Oh.”

“Do you not like to taste yourself?”

Biting your lip, you shrugged. “Luke never liked to do that. So I got used to it.”

“Never liked to do what? Eat your pussy or kiss you after?” Harry asked.

“Kiss after. He always made me wash myself off before we kissed or…did anything else.”

Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck that guy. He wouldn’t do that and he was shagging other women?”

“Yeah.”

“Babe,” said Harry as he laid on his side next to you. “I think it’s time you got over him.”

“I am over him,” you declared.

“Really? Seems to me like you’re still pretty scarred from him.”

“Well, I am,” you agreed. “That’s gonna take some time. But I don’t love him anymore. He cheated on me. Do you still love your ex?”

Harry stared at you a moment before saying, “No. But I’m still a little bitter and angry, I admit.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a scowl. “That’s what I am. I’m so fucking angry.”

“Then that’s what you need to do, Y/N. Let it all out. On me.”

You stared incredulously at Harry. Though his expression was serious, his eyes had a certain softness to them, as though he was silently willing you to let go.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, pulling you close against his body.

His mouth covered yours once again, a tender kiss of vulnerability, this time allowing you to take the lead. When your tongues met, you felt him sigh. You cupped his face with your hands, his scruffy jaw sending yet another spark through your veins. This man was so incredibly sexy, and he was wanting you to take advantage of the situation. Let out all of your emotions in a single roll in the hay. Who were you to resist?

“Let me help you with that,” he murmured when your fingers glided down his belly to his belt.

Rising from the bed, Harry hurriedly unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. You sheepishly examined the massive bulge in his briefs before he removed them as well, stepping out of them and returning to the bed.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he offered. “Show me what you want.”

“Harry…” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off of his beautiful physique and his long, thick cock.

“Fuuuuck.”

The dimples returned as Harry smirked with a nod, placing his arm behind his head. “That’s the idea.”

Words escaping you - not to mention air - you couldn’t decide if you wanted to take him in your mouth or straddle him. You’d never had this much control before. You watched as Harry began to stroke himself, and your mouth began to water. But your pussy began to twitch, too. Damn it.

“This is about you, babe,” Harry voiced. “But don’t take too long to decide.”

As his thumb ran over the tip of his cock, you finally made your decision. Throwing your leg over his waist, you could already feel yourself dripping.

“You wanna ride me, darling?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Okay, hold on. Lemme get a condom.”

When Harry retrieved the protection from the bedside drawer, you offered to put it on. Harry watched you, an easy grin on his face. Then you aimed his hard cock at our entrance, taking a deep breath before sliding down slowly.

“Oh, Jesus babe,” Harry groaned, his eyelids fluttering. “Fuck, that feels so good already.”

With a smirk of your own, you began to ride him, taking it easy at first to adjust to his size. He definitely filled you more than Luke had.

You concentrated on Harry’s face as you moved, letting your pussy wetten with each thrust. He reached for your tits, cupping them and then grabbing your nipples. You threw your head back, feeling a moan escape your throat from deep down.

“Fuck, baby,” growled Harry. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that? I can’t believe your man didn’t want this.”

With a jagged breath, you looked back at him, his gorgeous face watching you in awe. It made you feel amazing.

“How dare he cheat on you?,” Harry added. “What was he thinking? Look at you. Riding my cock, taking me so deep and so well.”

“Yeah,” you whined.

“How dare he bury his cock in someone else's pussy when he has this little kitten ready to please his every whim. His every need. You do that, don’t you baby? You like to please your man, hmm?”

“Yes. I do.”

“You like to watch him become captive of your tight, warm pussy til he can’t get enough.”

You moaned, nodding your head.

“It’s not fair, is it kitten?”

“No,” you whimpered.

“You give so much, aiming to please. Only for a man who doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”

“Harry…”

“I know, baby. Tell me how unfair it is. Tell me how angry you are.”

Furrowing your brows, you groaned and sped up the pace, riding Harry faster.

“Fuck yeah, babe. Take it all out on me. All your anger. Fuck me like you hate me.”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I hate you.”

The words burned your throat because although they weren’t meant for Harry, you definitely hated Luke. Harry was right. You’d given your ex everything and he hadn’t appreciated it. You let him hurt your feelings in public and then pretended it didn’t matter anymore when his dick was inside you. Fuck that. Fuck him!

As your thrusts quickened, so did your breaths. You moaned louder, though the tiny cries and whimpers were not near enough. Watching Harry as his chest and throat started to get red, his eyelids fluttering from pleasure, you wanted so badly to make him come. But your fury was taking over as well. Your head was spinning with so many thoughts, emotions and desires.

Harry squeezed your ass as he lifted you higher and bucked his hips hard. You cried out in pleasure and pain, reaching for the headboard that was too far away.

“Get up, baby,” Harry suddenly commanded, slapping your ass. “I want you on your knees.”

When you obliged, you made sure you scooted closer to the headboard this time in case you needed to hold on. You felt Harry run his hands up the back of your thighs, his rings chilling your flesh right before he reached underneath and pinched your clit. You cursed again, unable to see straight.

“I know, kitten,” he said. “You’re dripping all over me and my sheets. Do I need to make you come again?”

“Yes. Please.”

Slipping two fingers inside your pussy, Harry quickly pulled them out and put them in his mouth.

“So fucking good, baby.”

Before you could respond, Harry slapped your ass, taking you by surprise. You squealed and looked over your shoulder where he was knelt behind you with a dirty smirk. Shithead.

“Now, my kitten,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna bury my cock in that tight cunt again. And you’re gonna take it just like before. Alright?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Only this time I wanna hear everything. Tell me how much you hate me. How fucking good my cock feels, but you can’t stand me. I wanna hear you seething with anger. Got it?”

You nodded again, although you were unsure exactly what he meant. Surely he didn’t want you to pretend he was Luke. Perhaps he wanted you to use the anger to fuel the orgasm.

Before you could think about it further, Harry did as he promised and slammed into your pussy over and over. The sting was so good, you nearly lost your balance, but Harry had a good grip on your waist.

“God, this ass,” he growled, slapping it again.

“Fuck you,” you cried, barely enough for Harry to hear. But he did.

“What was that, love?”

When you didn’t reply, he thrust harder. “Tell me!”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s it,” he acknowledged. “It’s so good, innit?”

“So good, Harry…I can’t…”

“Yes you can. Babe. Tell me you hate me.”

“I hate you,” you muttered.

“No, no. That won’t do,” he argued. You felt him lean forward, his stomach on our back. “I need to hear it. Louder.”

While it did feel so fucking good, your hatred was at its peak. You thought of all the shit you put up with from Luke…why did he hurt you like that? Why had he thought it was okay? What kind of fool did he think you were?

“I hate you!” you shouted, staring ahead at the headboard.

“I know you do,” said Harry, his voice even lower than usual.

Then he moaned, a deep, low, sexy moan that filled your senses. You could tell he was nearing his own climax. Your eyes began to burn as he reached for your clit again. You were so close, the orgasm sitting on the edge of the precipice. Oh God!

“Say it it again!”

With his finger on your cunt and his cock deep, the dam broke and you cried out in both pleasure and pain.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Luke!”

Time seemed to freeze as you glared straight ahead. Harry paused his thrusts, but his body still laid on top of yours.

“S-sorry.”

“S’okay, babe.”

“No, I- I didn’t mean to say that,” you croaked, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Hey. It’s okay. I told you to let out all your anger.”

You were silent for a bit, your body trembling as you felt his breaths on your shoulder. You wondered if he was going to move, figured he would after hearing you scream someone else’s name…even if it was tagged with hate.

“I’m…I’m really, sorry, Harry.”

“Baby. Please don’t be sorry. You released what you needed to. It’s okay.”

“O-okay…” you breathed, your throat sore.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” you replied hastily. “You didn’t come yet, did you?”

“No, but it’s alright, I-”

“Harry. Don’t be silly. Keep fucking me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It…feels amazing. You’re so good.”

You felt his body rise from yours, a slight sweaty stickiness as his chest separated from your back. When he ran his hands down your hips, you heard him moan again.

“You’re amazing too, babe,” he said, breathing heavily with each thrust. “Shit, I’m so close.”

When you felt his balls hit your pussy, you reached underneath and grabbed them, earning a loud groan from Harry.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” he proclaimed.

Letting out a deep, guttural moan, Harry thrust a few more times until his body trembled and he let out long, slow breaths onto your back. Cursing again, he fell onto the bed beside you, pulling you against his chest.

Perhaps it was the memories flooding back, perhaps it was the way Harry held you with his sweaty arms that made you unable to breathe, or maybe it was because you’d fucking said your ex’s name as you came, but your eyes darted around the room, trying to decide your escape.

“I um…need to use the restroom,” you declared.

“Oh, sure babe.”

When he released you, you sped for the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. While washing up, you wondered why the hell you’d let this happen. You’d barely gotten over Luke’s hurt only for it to return again. You should have just stayed home tonight.

When you opened the door, Harry was still lying on the bed, naked, his head propped in his hand. Damn it.

“I should go,” you said, grabbing your discarded dress and panties from the floor.

“Why?”

“It’s late.”

“You can stay if you like.”

“No, I…should get home,” you declined.

“Oh. Well, let me get dressed and I’ll drive you,” Harry offered as he rose from the bed.

“Please. It’s fine. I’ll order an Uber.”

“Y/N, that’s ridiculous,” argued Harry. “I can take you.”

He slipped back into his pants, forgoing the briefs, but you were already at the door.

“It’s okay, really,” you insisted, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I just…I’m embarrassed, Harry. I’d really just like to be alone. I hope you understand.”

Making it to the living room where you’d left your bag, you noticed Harry had followed you. You quickly ordered an Uber on the app. When you turned, Harry wore a deep frown.

“Please don’t be embarrassed, Y/N. That was never my intention.”

“I know,” you confirmed, placing a hand on his chest for reassurance. Then you handed him your phone. “Here. Put your number in.”

Harry did as you asked, and when he handed it back, your fingers brushed.

“There, now you have mine,” you gave a tight smile after sending his number a text. When your phone pinged, you jumped. “Oh! There must have been a driver nearby. Goodnight, Harry.”

“It’s here already?”

“Just down the road. I’ll wait outside.”

“Babe,” he sighed.

You gave him a quick kiss, then a second.

“You’re lovely,” you whispered before leaving him standing in the middle of his luxurious living room.

If it had been a cab, you might have cried the whole way home. But seeing as it was an Uber and you were just sitting in the back of some guy’s car, you held the tears in. Stumbling up the stairs as if you were drunk, you tossed your bag on your nightstand and stepped out of your shoes. You’d just pulled on an oversized tee to sleep in when your phone rang in your purse. Seeing Harry’s number shouldn’t have startled you, but it did.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he said when you answered.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Good. I know you wanna be alone, but I just wanted to say I um…I had a really good time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, love. I really am. I was hoping we could both just-”

“Harry,” you interrupted. “It’s okay. You didn’t embarrass me. I did it to myself.”

After a long sigh, Harry spoke again. “Um…listen, if you ever wanna do this again….if you need to get your anger out or you’re stressed or…” he paused with a sigh, “just wanna talk. Whatever…give me a ring.”

“Of course.”

“Take care, Y/N.”

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know.”

“That was just…”

“I know, baby.”

You gave a soft hum of contentment. “Okay then. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, kitten.

*dramatic music* What did you think?? Do we need more them? Don't be shy, leave all the comments you want :).

tagging: @kathb59 since you asked :)

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