#idk I just think they’re perfect for each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vatelixx · 2 months ago

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The visionary, the willing executor,

Spencer Reid x afab!UNSUB!reader (written with mid!seasons Spencer Reid in mind)

SMUT!! copious amounts of angst (there’s traces of fluff in there as well if u get out ur magnifying glass)

BASED ON THIS SONG (it got so stuck in my head that I had to write something that correlated):

──── autistic spencer (it’s not explored that much, but it’s always gonna be present in my oneshots), evil evil reader (im not being dramatic this time. she’s literally a serial killer. like her ‘body count’ is copious. but idk, she’s kinda sweet. if u squint and ignore the bodies). They were in love ur honour !!! they’re still in love ur honour !!!! She pays him a visit two years after he found out about her homicidal tendencies (they miss each other, Spencer might also hate her a little but it’s okay, don’t worry about that).

Warnings: sub spencer (aaaaaaalways), maybe perhaps some vague, very faint mentions of switch!spencer but idk i blacked out writing this, choking, mentions of death and general behaviour that would get you a life sentence, praise more than degradation surprisingly, coming untouched, crying (you’d think that was a kink or something?), she fucks the good out of him, hopeful ending (eh, kinda), mentions of dante’s inferno, copious amounts of religious imagery, greek mythology references, this isn’t dead dove at all i promise.

w.c: 5k

a/n: everything i write has been so angsty recently. i’m working on something softer for my next upload i swear (alongside the requests, I promise, they’re being written im just a die-hard perfectionist). aaaaanyway, happy (belated) halloween!! It’s Spencer’s favourite season so i thought i’d write him getting destroyed by a serial killer (god when is it my turn????)

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Spencer would consider himself a good person, by default. It’s reasonable: a renowned member of the BAU, with intellect he’s weaponized for morality. The blood etched onto his hands is justified. Necessary evil for greater cause. He’s willing to blemish his skin for the virtue, for the lives of others.

He remembers naivety. He remembers being so fragile he could easily crack into fragmented pieces of wasted innocence. Maybe that’s been stolen from him now, maybe the ruins of his sacrifices are too sharp to touch upon still, but he’s good. He knows he will always be good.

And yet, there’s a bruise. Something ugly and distorted that stains his skin. Something that has the ability to crawl deep into his bones and leave behind a mess of pain. Something bad. Festering and tainted, it haunts him with every breath.

You.

You, who came into his life as an abundance of sunlight. Helios personified. Pretty and warm, and everything he needed. He wanted to kiss you: the moment he stumbled into the coffee shop, tousled hair, overworked and raw from a burdening case. When you took his order, marking constellations onto the styrofoam cup. Andromeda, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia. Later, much later, then when you became an indomitable presence to his apartment.

But for all the good he’s preserved, Spencer knows he’s not allowed to receive it.

“You shouldn’t be here,�� is the first thing he says when he finds you waiting for him. He always knew you would come back; you’re bound to follow him indefinitely. Like his shadow, his guilty consciousness, his cracked past of addiction and pre-pubescent torment.

He let you go. When the act was over, the curtain drawn, when he saw you. Homicidal, the perpetrator of the case he was working on, malevolence packed into the frame of perfection, oh even still, he let you go. Free to continue the cycle of death, he was left to scramble in the mess of his own misguided heart.

There’s risk in reward, and reward in risk. You’re meticulous, hedonistic to the last detail. But Spencer? Well, he will always be the one loose end you could never quite force yourself to clean up. The thread that kept untangling, even as time passed. Cut it off, you should be rational, wash every bleeding trace of him from your skin.

But there’s irrationality in love.

Blood adorns your features; there’s no need to touch up your appearance, to return to the domesticated facade you once used on him. No, he’s been exposed to the ugly now. There can be no do overs, no back-tracking, game over try again doesn’t exist in real time.

“What are you going to do about it?” you ask, and god, hes just as beautiful as the day you left him. So perfectly real, with dragging exhaustion and pretty brown eyes to ease the sting of his tight-faced, troubled expression.

You didn’t cut the phone lines, nor move the gun he keeps stashed in his cabinet drawer. Down the hall, to the left. You know he won’t make any abrupt actions. Know, in an intuitive way, telepathic communication between past lovers.

“It was a gamble coming here, aren’t you pleased to see me pretty boy?”

Spencer has to fight every urge he has, every moral he believes in to not lunge at you; to not strangle your slender neck, crack you in half, destroy you the way you’ve destroyed his sanity.

Two years, 8 months, 11 days since you cataclysmically uprooted his routined life. He fell in love with softness, not the jagged edge of a blade.

“I let you go. Wasn’t that enough?” it feels too natural, fighting in his apartment, some sort of twisted lovers quarrel. There’s a definite list of everything he should do in this moment, and despite all logic, he just blanks at the sight of you.

“You had to come back. Rub salt in the wound. Do you get off on this?” a sigh falls from his pretty lips, “Actually, don’t— don’t answer that. We both know the answer.”

“I get off on you,” you correct.

It’s true. If he was to analyse you, profile your warped brain like his other unsubs, he’d find nothing but unyielding loyalty to him. For all the damage you’ve done, there’s always been one anomaly to your detachment.

He stands right before you.

And, sure, maybe you’ve got a leg up in this situation. Perhaps the distorted memory of you holds him back: lazy nights and tangled sheets, his body pressed up against yours. The way he’d talk, quantum physics, philosophy, rambles that dissolved into open admissions of feelings. There’s a lot that was fake, but to be a good liar, you have to add subsidiary details of truth.

God, he wishes the world would be cruel—a cosmic alignment of karmic righteousness that would grant him relief: some kind of justification for what he must do. But the universe is indifferent, nothing but a distant star, a fleeting speck of dust in the grand scheme of life. There’s no such thing as good or bad, only consequences.

Consequences. Consequences for his actions. Butterfly effect. He can comprehend it. But, there were many things he adored about you, while the illusion of love was tangible. The way your hair would curl just above your shoulders, your skin in the morning light. The way you’d laugh at one of his obscure Star Trek references, better yet his criticism on modern, inaccurate horror. He could stare at you for eons, as though he was trying to make out the secrets of the universe in the constellation lines of your scars.

The illusion of love, as it was. He sees you now with the clarity of reality, the same way a mirage fades away as you approach; a distortion of perception.

“And you get off on me. Even now. Don’t you?” you say, shifting forward to close gravitational space.

There’s no way to disregard this morbid connection. No psychological justification he can exploit to demean your feelings. You’re not a psychopath, nor anything that relates to a lack of empathy. You feel— you feel empathy for all of your victims, the line of bodies that mark your path. But it goes deeper than that. There was reasoning for your actions, just as there was for his.

“Say it,” you goad. And there’s satisfaction here, sure. Something mean and condescending. But there’s also hurt, because he was supposed to be a means to an end, and now, he might very well be your end.

“Say you miss me. C’mon boy genius, a few little words and i’ll have enough content to satisfy me for years. Don’t be mean— you know I hate being edged.”

He does miss you, every day that he wakes up, his bones too hollow and cold to leave his bed. The ache in his chest where his heart was supposed to be, too empty to function. No amount of caffeine can fill the void in his skull where thoughts of you used to reside. The longing, the desire for the past to rewrite itself.

“You’re sick,” he tries. But he’s not good at this. Not when the love remained after the inevitable fall out, not when the darkest parts of him still clung to want, even after he realised the truth.

“You’re sick, and..” he tries again, “and I hate how much I miss you. There? Is that enough? Are you happy? Got what you wanted?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “No. If I ‘got what I wanted’, I would still have you.”

Spencer dies. Metaphorically, literally, what does it even matter? He dies, respawns, and then kisses the admittance from your lips.

Instinctively, just like the past, your hands tangle through his hair, and perhaps there’s a sense of ownership to the gesture. The knowledge that he will always be yours. Scarred from your touch, returning to your lips like a dog with a bird. There’s a mindless attempt at anger on his part, biting lips and rough teeth, but just like always, he quickly melts.

He melts, and you catch him. Because for all it’s worth, lies and deceit aside, you’ve always loved him.

There’s something powerful to the gesture; knowing you have someone wrapped around your finger. Even after you’ve bared the worst of you, the ugliness of man-kind. There’s someone out there that will wipe the blood from your cheek, and kiss you through it.

“Oh, even better,” you mutter against his lips, “Much, much better. C’mon Spence, show me just how much you’ve missed me.”

Two years, 8 months, 11 days since he felt like he could breathe.

It hurts, it hurts so much, because there’s a sense of coming home to the kiss, and he just wants you to stay. To ruin him forever. To leave behind a deformed version of him, something unrecognisable and equally scarring.

You’re too loyal and he’s too susceptible to any form of attention. Because you want him, and it’s easy to fall into a cyclical cycle of self-destruction when you’re the catalyst.

“I did miss you.” he admits again. “You— crazy, homicidal excuse of a person.”

Spencer’s hand comes up to touch your cheek, the rough texture of skin meeting something soft. His thumb traces down the curvature of your jawline, a silent hello that doesn’t linger long, too soon to be replaced with his lips.

You push him back against the wall, a painful groan escaping your lips when you feel his hips canting forward, searching aimlessly for a friction you’ve both been denied. Two years. His body still aches for you. It’s primal, something perverted and tainted and so very good.

You knew this would happen. There was not a doubt in your clouded mind that he would deny you. What you do to me, I do to you.

“There’s my boy.” you mutter when you grip said hips, fingers finding their natural, fated position against divine bone. When he begins to find a stable pace, bucking up to meet you with every kiss that you press to his lips.

He whimpers when you touch him, soft sounds of need slipping past his parted lips into the confines of his empty apartment. He’s trying so hard to maintain composure, but he can’t find it in him to fight the inevitable. The ache of separation between himself and you. So he lets it happen, like he always does.

My boy, the possession goes straight to his head. One simple phrase and he’s untangling, breaking to pieces because yes, he is yours. And yes, he will forever want to be reminded.

“Mhm, mhm. Oh— oh, fuck.” he’s so hard, clothed cock pushing up against you with every movement. He could get off on less of you. He has. Every night.

And yes, it certainly feels like home. It’s only the thing your body has been aimlessly yearning for, day in and day out. It’s not fair, not fair to you, that you’ve allowed your resolve to crumble, your strategic, one-track mind, for the fleeting body of a past lover.

But then again, demeaning him to a past lover doesn’t even begin to articulate this.

You’re fairly certain he was put on this earth, just to torment you.

And you’re fairly certain you’ll always let him.

“God, you’re such a slut for me.” you say, drawing back from the friction just to prove your point. The disintegrating whimpers that bleed out of his mouth in response are enough alone to confirm.

His head falls back against the wall, baring that lovely length of his neck and its pretty bruises. He wants you to kiss him there, to leave one last mark before he says ‘I won’t see you again’ and means it this time.

“Don’t— don’t stop—” even as he speaks, a mess of jumbled words and breathless sentences, you’re still teasing him. He hates how much it works, how much he’d rather fall into the pleasure of your hands.

“Fine. Whatever. Yes. What do you want to hear? That it’s whorish the way I want you. That you’re able to just… corrupt me with all these dirty words, even though I have an extensive vocabulary. Even though i’m supposed to be—“

He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to be anymore.

“You know the extent of my devotion.” he concedes.

There will always be sadistic pleasure in reducing him to such an ignominious version of himself. You’ve seen it before, back when you were trapped in an artificial, yet domesticated, haze of bliss. But to hear it now? Even after everything has been said and done?

That’s a new type of pleasure.

You know he still holds onto the facade of you, aimlessly reaching for something intangible, something that never truly existed. “You want me to be good for you, huh? Just pack up my shit, leave it all behind, get better? Think about it. White picket fence. Coffee every morning. God— it would be insufferable. Coming home to feed the dogs, talking every night over the phone, begging you to be safe on a case, or or—“

Spencer breaks. Silencing your words with a pained whimper.

Usually, he doesn’t allow himself to think about that fantastical hypothetic. He can’t afford to. Months after he let you go, when the truth had been exposed to his naive eyes, he’d spend hours in a mess of aching limbs, dreaming up alternative realities where your hands weren’t stained from blood, and the most despicable thing you could do was make his coffee bitter.

So when you force him to open old wounds, to rehash past hopes, he falls apart. A whine escapes his lips, hips bucking, once, twice and then he’s coming untouched. Making a mess out of himself— and it’s sick, so very sick to get off on the thought of you permanent, the epitome of good.

Something he could hold onto without slicing open skin.

It’s not a good orgasm, it never is without your direct help, but at least it’s some form of release. In the aftermath, he blinks away tears, vaguely aware of the cum staining his boxers, creating damp spots through fabric.

There’s something painful, cutting to your gaze when you look at him. At the debauched sight, corrupted from just a few words.

Give it all up? For what? Him?

All things considered, it’s tempting.

“Spencer,” you mutter in the serrated moments between. When he’s still nebulous, caught in the aftershocks of abrupt pleasure. When he’s just gotten off, untouched, on the notion of a domesticated life with you.

He’s struggling to breathe. He’s spent nights gasping for you, reduced to the most debasing version of himself. So out of touch, you drove a blade through his back, catching his heart on the way.

“Why are you— doing this?” he asks, but before you can even answer, provide him with an explanation that will devastate, he’s lunging forward, kissing the lies that cling to your lips. Kissing you because his mouth hurts when it’s not attached to yours.

“One last time.” he says; he’s too intelligent, too intellectually adept, to allow this swallowing cycle of humiliation to continue.

But, underneath it all, he’s also inherently selfish for you. He’s fairly certain you were engrained into his skin, long before he fell into your barbed trap, teeth and penetrative ruin.

“Then you leave. You actually leave, never contact me again. No showing up at my apartment unprovoked. I have a good life without you. Understood?”

You scoff. He presses forward, “Understood?”

You don’t protest when he elucidates his life as good. Even if it’s quite the contrary. Even if he has to bare witness to depravity every single day, scrutinise his way through the minds of the most perverse. Perhaps this is a social experiment to him, perhaps you are the guinea pig, Laika sentenced to space. You know he loved you once, but it’s hard to comprehend the feelings remained unscarred, it’s hard to imagine you’re anything but a test subject now.

You look at him. Look at that pretty face. Your undoing. He could be your achilles heel, hamartia in its rawest form, or maybe you willingly chose to do this. Maybe fate, and divine intervention played no part in your attachment to him. Maybe it’s just chemicals. The logics explanation. Imbalanced, skewed chemicals.

“Don’t worry, boy genius.” you respond, “You won’t get anything, not even a postcard, from me. It’ll be like I never even existed.” no trace. D.C has always been a monotone cesspit of nothing anyway.

It’s cruel. Because if you leave, truly leave. And he never hears from you again, never catches you in his kitchen, drinking coffee with an unadulterated smile, then he will begin to forget.

The curve of your spine, the scars beneath your chest, the way your fingers fit into his own. The way he was able to memorise your body until he could draw it in the dark, when your body was pressed to his, when there was nothing but a false establishment of safety.

He knows he can’t forget. Not technically. But it’ll grow distant, it’ll be replaced with new normals and routines. That, that, he can’t compute.

“Good,” he says, kissing you again, kissing you because this is it.

Spencer wants you. In every sense of the word, he wants you so badly it’s killing him.

His bedroom still holds traces of you. That, itself, is a crime. But he just falls into you. The way lovers do. Your hands against his skin— his hair threaded through your fingers, your lips at the base of his neck. He lets you leave another bruise, a mark, a confirmation of possession, because even if this is the last time, he is, and always will be yours.

“Still the prettiest person i’ve ever seen,” you admit when he’s flushed naked beneath you.

There’s something in those doe-eyes, brown irises blown out of proportion, that hooked you. Even at the worst, it was still soft with him.

Slender frame, slightly arched, you want to bite into his hips, mark every inch of him as yours. It’s greedy, gluttonous, his messy hair, fanning out like a halo, the tangled curls he never bothers to properly care for.

“God, fucking look at you,” you grip his jaw, tilt his head back to bare that blemished neck of his. To have and to own. He’s so inexplicably different to you, so good it runs down to the bone. And maybe you’ve always been insatiable for what you’ve lacked.

He can’t take this. He can’t, not again. The past, the future will have to dissolve with this moment, because there will never be another again.

You will never get this close to him. It’s a terrifying thought, that this’ll be the standard of intimacy, of love - because he knows it isn’t. But he can’t risk the reality he’s faced with, the reality of living without this. Of living without you.

Your words only make it worse. He wants to beg you to stop. To cease the torture.

“Shut up.” He kisses you, as if to remind you that your mouth is made for kissing, for his lips, for a litany of dirty words that he can’t bear to hear. Those words are for someone else. For someone similar. Not him. Never him.

Defying fate. He gets off on being something bad beneath the surface. No one would ever expect it; boyish maladroit Spencer, the youngest of the team, willingly allowing, condoning, a killer to sink into his skin.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” you respond, muffled against his lips. “If this is the last time, i’m going to enjoy it. Going to enjoy the sight of you, all desperate for me alone.”

“You assume i’ve ever been desperate for anyone else—“ he counters.

“Oh, that’s it. Keep talking dirty to me.”

“It’s not dirty. It’s a factual statement.”

You pull away, a trail of saliva bridging the space between your mouths. If there is higher power at play here, you want to curse, to spite your creator. Because if ‘things’ had been different, if you had been born from the same rib, this could’ve ended differently.

Or for that matter, never ended at all.

“Sit there and watch me.” you say, and Spencer hates the way he obliges. Pushing himself up against the headboard, he stares at you, at the way you position yourself, standing by the foot of the bed.

“Do you even know what you do to me? Do you even understand the gravity your existence has on me?” you continue, unfastening the lace corset that clings to your frame. When it drops to the floor, breasts exposed, you run your hands across them, catching pierced nipples for a vindictive moment of pleasure.

“I— uh,” Spencer is admittedly a little distracted. Sex had always been something ruinous between you two. Something that conflicted his lack of experience, forced him to adapt.

He always wondered how someone so soft, the epitome of light, could be this obscene. Now he understands.

“Lost your words? Come on, pretty boy. I thought you had an ��extensive vocabulary?’ Hm?”

He wants to touch himself, to ease the pulsing throb that centres in his cock. But he doesn’t, because despite the time that has passed, he still knows your rules. “Don’t use my words against me. I’m being tortured.”

“Tortured, huh?” your hands fumble over buttons until you’re reduced to a pair of panties, soaked throughly, leaving scarce to the imagination.

“So so tortured. Oh my god, who are you? Can I please have my soul back?” he’s joking, but not really.

“Well maybe if you beg for it,” your words fade into a mess of moans, fingers slipping beneath fabric to graze your clit. Spencer’s head spills back against the wall; he looks more affected by the movements than you.

It’s easy to fall back into old habits. Relapse.

“Come here, come here, i’m having an existential crisis.” he says, watching as you slip one finger, then two inside you, struggling to stand now. It’s strange how pleasure can reduce the most antagonising minds to vulnerability.

“Please— oh fuck, please. Please. Don’t make me watch, I can’t. Need you. Need you so bad.”

He thought he found the core of torture in you touching yourself, but he was wrong. Because when you crawl closer, when you slot yourself between his thighs, lips finding skin that only you have ever touched, he sees the root of evil in his brain. The ninth circle of hell.

It’s justified, he supposes. For all the good he’s done, he has betrayed. Himself, his friends, family, existence itself. There is not one thing he wouldn’t ruin, just to feel you. It’s incriminating, so yes, he deserves to freeze in Cocytus. He’ll willingly plead guilty, accept his entrapment in the ring of Caina.

“Poor baby, look at you.” you say, kissing his tip, catching the pre-cum on your tongue. Spencer responds: fisting bedsheets, fighting the restraint to buck forward, to find misplaced solace in the warmth of your mouth. He’s sprawled out across sheets now, lying back in a tangled heap of want. “Shh, it’s okay,” you continue, “I like my men desperate.”

“Desperate? Ah—,” he fights the urge to shut his eyes, too aware that this is the last memory he will ever retain of you.

You, painted into his mind. The final evidence left in the fire: mouth sinking down his length, taking him to the hilt, watery eyes and leaking mascara.

“This isn’t even desperation. You’re killing me. Just, oh oh— please, don’t. ‘M gonna cum. Gonna cum—“

Is it sick that he doesn’t want to? If only to prolong this transitory moment of destruction? Like the lotus eaters, he will always be mindless in the pursuit of more, more, more of you.

You draw back from his cock, only to press a soft kiss against the tip. The gesture alone has him reeling, has him begging to be saved, to atone for every sin he found in the comfort of your divinely crafted lips.

“Gonna let me sit on that pretty cock of yours, hm? Let me use you one last time? Promise i’ll be good,” a lie, “So so good.”

“God, yes. Yes, please. That would—“ You take him deep, deep enough that everything aches. He only feels alive when you’re wrapped around him, when there’s not an ounce of distance between your bodies, when he can touch the insides of you. Pry open the raw, unfiltered version of you.

He only feels alive when he’s sunk inside the harbinger of death. He’d laugh if it didn’t hurt.

You’ve got one hand tangled in your hair, the other pressed flat against his waist, supporting you through each bump of movement. Eyes like marbles, Spencer looks up, and wonders why this will never be enough for you.

You look back, meet his gaze, as if you’re Orpheus, predestined to turn around, to always return. Even if it’s just for one last second. Even if the fall-out is so much worse than pushing forward blindly.

Oh, hes certain you’re carving a hole inside him, something that will only grow and expand, imploring to be filled by it’s inventor. It’ll hurt, for the rest of time, he supposes.

When he finds your hand around his neck, he isn’t startled. Neither, when your thumb presses against his throat, applying pressure until the world cracks and fades, distorting his refined mind to the here and now. He floats, feeling transient in the curse of your touch.

“That’s it. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

He is a sacrificial lamb. The priests favourite. He will take the knife every time, and thank you for it after.

You release the tension, hand taking his instead. For all the cruelty you possess, you’d never think to harm him. Not physically at least. The emotional damage, however, finds you both. There can be no happiness in either of your worlds, not when the memory of each other festers. “Good boy— taking it so well. God, no one is ever gonna compare.”

He cries at the words. Pretty tears streaming down his face, because the reciprocation to his undying piety will forever trigger the warped chemicals in his brain. Will forever reduce him to something saccharine.

“Love you. Love you so much. Don’t go. Please,” he fractures, “please don’t go.” he begs, besmirched words he’ll regret in the wake of his pleasure. They don’t count, and yet, he knows, in the most depraved sections of his mind, they’re true.

You ride him harder. Back curved, finding god in the washed-out body of someone fatally destroyed. “Not going anywhere— fuck, fuckfuckfuck. That feels so good. You’re so good,” maybe it’s a kink to ruin something so perfectly spotless.

Maybe it’s a kink that he wants it.

“Say it. God, just say it. This once.” for old times sake, he almost adds. But that wouldn’t be objectively correct. For all the intimacy you shared, you never once articulated those three words. Perhaps it was to save your dignity, to hold pieces of yourself in the lies you beautifully crafted.

His thumb runs over your clit, and in the tangle of your orgasm, he almost thinks you forget about his demand. But after, when you’re still taking him, when you’re still clenching, unclenching, clenching around his cock, when you know you own every part of him, you answer.

“I love you.”

He falls apart. Hips canting, body squirming, whimper after whimper escaping his bruised lips as he releases inside of you. Pushed deep, defiled to the limit. For a moment, everything is okay, everything will be alright, because there’s pleasure, and it’s you. It’s always you.

How can he justify falling in love with you again? How can he, when he still clings onto the artificial love of the past? He’s not sure his heart can handle one set of feelings, nevermind two.

He takes you again, well… mostly you take him again. In ways that have him polluted with the remnants of your teeth. Canine marks, etched deep enough to bleed. He hopes the swelling leaves behind perennial scars, anything to remind him. Anything to hold onto when you’re gone and it’s cold.

After, when you lie together, he presses his forehead against yours and wishes he was in any other universe. One where you’re happy. Where everything is pure and simple, clean from sin.

There was always truth in what we shared before, you admit. Lazy nights spent draped over the couch, kissing him to silence convoluted rambles. Your presence in the morning, bathed in holy glow, sunlight bleeding over the pretty sight of you. The first night he touched you and saw god. And then the following night, when he ascended all over again.

He wakes to find no body. He wakes to find nothing. It feels like self-sabotage, the promise that you would leave, even if it’s quite the contrary.

In the absence, abstinence of your presence, he discovers traces of you in everything he sees, all of it, everything consumed, returning to the simple thought of you you you.

When the first postcard comes, Portland, dreary weather— beaches and ports, there’s no anger. No exasperation that you broke your word.

You love him, it’s morbid, but for someone like him, it overrules everything. Sanity, dignity, his own stable existence.

You overrule everything.

#criminal minds #sub spencer reid #sub spencer #halloween #unsub!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #CRAAAAWLING BACK TO U #idk guys they might be in love??#all i do is write smut wtf (i need help)

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seagiri · 7 months ago

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some chilshi headcanons?

(Contextualizing my headcanons, I mostly like chilshi post-canon. It doesn’t click during the main story for me)

I think they’re very domestic. One of those situations where they don’t even realize how infatuated they are with the other- until they do. And they don’t know what to do about that so they get used to being close but never taking it a step further. I think Senshi is a good influence for Chilchuck, and Chil he is Senshi’s way to connect with others.

The two of them are people that had to mature emotionally very quickly due to their life circumstances and I think that’s what draws them together in a way

Senshi has the excuse that he wants to help Chil feed himself better and maybe help him taking care of his home, and Chil likes the company. He worries about the guy lmao

They smoke and drink in the porch of his old family house and they bicker about people. Senshi tends to their garden and Chil sometimes when he’s bored and his wrists don’t hurt, he combs his hair.

And Senshi travels and explores and when he comes back he gets to talk about everything and show Chilchuck his new recipes and he is mortified but he listens anyway :) Chil complains about work, updates him on his daughters and they get to talk. They open up

Maybe they go fishing together, to the market if there’s a chance. They drink in the tavern at nighttime. idk

It’s whatever. Whatever you know

>They’re both big spoon interchangeably but it’s Chilchuck the most because he doesn’t like feeling crushed and also Senshi’s beard is equal to 3 layers of blankets

>Senshi likes teaching Chilchuck how to cook but Chil gets annoyed fast if he can’t do it first try so they barely try anymore

>They own a lot of alcohol from different places either Senshi visits or Falin and Izutsumi bring them. That pantry is wild

>They fight over stupid shit that is just mildly annoying and not a real issue

>Their way of loving is to do things for each other. If Chilchuck is tired from work Senshi will offer to arrange his picklocks, maybe go something for him. And Chil tidies up the place for him after cooking or goes buy whatever is missing. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you. It’s fine”

>They had to get slightly bigger furniture

The perfect version for me is when they never get together because they’re stubborn and afraid of interfering in each others lives so they self sabotage and don’t know what to do. But I also love it when they’re happy together so make of this what you will <3 they are everything to me

#ask #chilshi #thanks for asking sorry I left this unanswered for weeks #I get really anxious talking about my interests #as I mentioned I have a whole ass fanfic made up in my head I just can’t write #dungeon meshi spoilers

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frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months ago

Text

♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡

♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut

♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.

♡ Word Count: 3.2k

♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.

♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️

Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...

It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.

Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one.

That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.

Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.

But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them.

He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.

Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man.

You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?

Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that.

“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?

A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good.

“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.

Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.

Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.” Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process.

Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.

“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.

“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it.

In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.

The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.

Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?”

Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.

“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”

You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.

He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.

“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.

Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”

If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”

The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about.

“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”

Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.

They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you. “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.

When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.

Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.

All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you.

Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”

“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.

Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”

Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.

He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.

Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.

“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.”

You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.”

“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.

“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.”

Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.

Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”

Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there.

“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.

Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.

“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on.

“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…”

Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?”

“The guy that I was…”

“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah.”

“Been here all night.”

“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.

What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin x you #bts au #bts au fanfic #bts mafia au #jimin au #chubby reader #plus size reader #bts x fem!reader #park jimin x reader

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literaila · 4 months ago

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Wait, has reader and Gojo ever said I love you? Cause I swear Gojo be constantly asking her "Do you love me yet :D?" When they weren't even dating yet

oh yeah they’re saying shit all of the time, but if you recall (or don’t idk) it did indeed take them nine years to get together.

which is actually so ridiculous now that i’m thinking about it??? guys be so honest with me rn

still, gojo knows you love him. and he’s sure to use that to his full advantage.

“are you sure you have to leave?” he’s asking you, a year in, his smile different than when you were still in school—and yet so the same.

he hasn’t changed since your second year, but everything else has.

maybe that’s why you’re so attached to him, actually.

“are you sure you don’t want to stay?” he asks again, so sweetly, tugging on your hand from where he’s leaning across the couch.

“am i sure that i want to go to bed and escape you? yes.”

satoru doesn’t even flinch. “but are you sure?”

you roll your eyes and shake his hand from yours. you’ll be back tomorrow. he can deal with ten hours apart from you (and maybe you can too).

but as soon as you walk towards the door, he’s following.

“stay,” he says, already whining. “don’t you love me?”

“what a question, satoru.”

“but we’re perfect for each other,” he tells you, picking up your hand again. his voice is honey-thick, flirty. “you think i’m cute and i think that you’re right about that.”

“you should leave me a yelp review or something,” you tell him, pushing at his chest. “with all your high praise.”

“sure. all you have to do is tend to me and spend the night,” he grins. “simple. i’ve even got silk pajamas you can wear.”

you blink. “what a tempting offer.”

but you’re grabbing your bag, then your shoes, attached to satoru at one end and busy on the other.

“c’mon. you’ll miss me.”

“it sounds more like you’ll miss me, and you hate being alone.”

“because i do hate being alone. and i hate being apart from my one true love—“

you do end up leaving that night—but it might be a couple of hours later.

and when you don’t let gojo pick up another assortment of sweets at the store he’s hanging his head on your shoulder, pouting. “i thought you loved me,” he says, so sadly it almost makes you give in.

almost.

“hmm…” you’re walking down the isles, being sure not to pay any attention to him (he’s being punished for not holding your hand earlier). “i’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“what? we have matching bracelets though.”

you pause, eyebrow raised. “no we don’t?”

“well, we will when i buy them.”

“if you’re buying some for us you’re also going to have to get some for tsumiki. you know how she feels about being left out—“

“yeah yeah,” satoru is still on your shoulder, his throat vibrating just enough for you to feel it down your back. and then his eyes drift over and he’s gone. “look at this! i need it.”

(he doesn’t).

it’s not that he can’t say the words, or that you can’t, even.

it’s more that sincerity is toxic to the both of you, that being honest is a drug you’ve gotten used to. the dosage is too small, the affects are temporary.

and you’re busy. you use up your admiration for tsumiki and megumi—assuring them constantly that you love them, that they’re wonderful just as they are.

being a parent changes that perspective; it makes love something so different. loving them is as easy as giving up—giving in to that simple want to be there for them.

actually being in love is different.

and you knew that when you were sixteen, really. you’ve known that for years. but being in love with gojo satoru changes once you have the responsibility of the children.

there’s less time to do it, more time to dwell on it.

you’ve always been so scared of him. not like everyone else—not because he could hurt you in and instant, because he’s holds more power than you could possibly imagine.

but because you don’t want him to. you want him to be that boy that surprised you when you first met, the one who leans on your shoulder and grins until you’re defenseless.

love doesn’t always work the way you want it to, you suppose.

as soon as the two of you say the words—as soon as satoru finally lets his unbreakable guard down—it seems… ridiculous. juvenile.

of course you love him, and of course he loves you.

you never needed words to know that.

#gojo x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #jjk fluff #jjk x you

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g0dlyunsub · 8 months ago

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hey! Idk if u take requests but I love your writing style and have a request! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the Bau but they have been together for like 7 months and she is girly and like loves fashion and is superrr pretty and the team doesn't know about her but they see Spencer out with her one day and can't believe he's with her/has a gf bc they're so different and they tease him about her bc he's just head over heels in love with her and they are so obsessed with each other and it's just so cute!!! Thank you in advance!!!!🤍🤍

yes, i do take requests! thank you for the kind words, and i hope you enjoy this one <3

picture perfect.

you work shifts at a local coffee shop where a man frequents every friday evening. at first glance, the two of you are polar opposites; while you are covered in flowery pastel colors head to toe, he dresses strictly in professional attire. when love eventually blossoms between you and the doctor, he makes every effort to be with you – even when teased by his coworkers.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: none? some suggestive overtone.

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: this is probably the fluffiest text i’ve written by far, i swear i’m biting straight into cotton candy. fingers crossed that i’ve portrayed the story well…

accompanying song :: the perfect pair by beabadoobee

he doesn’t know how to deal with these unfamiliar feelings, especially when they’re eating away at his thoughts at work. his usual ability to read at 20,000 words per minute seems to be reduced to half its pace for almost seven days now, one of his worst nightmares in full action. he doesn’t know what to think when your bubbly face lights up in his head – when your pretty features accentuated by the glowy highlights around your eyes and the soft glassiness of your pink lips etch into his imagination. thoughts of you come to light like a switch in his head, and they pop up during the worst times, including a police chase on the highway, an interrogation with a female unsub that styled her hair similar to yours, and worst of all, whenever he tries to make coffee in the office. it’s almost a pavlovian response, the way he unconsciously gulps in tingling nervousness as he pours the sugar into his cup.

but he’s a man that thinks with his head, a man that doesn’t listen to his heart.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when you hand over his usual, dark espresso with three sugar packets on the side, with the words cheer up, doctor reid! <3 scribbled with winged hearts all around the cup, he has to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. there, he spends ten minutes clenching his shirt, squeezing the fabric with sheer strength because you and your actions are irresistibly adorable. he can’t look in the mirror, because he sees you standing right next to him in the reflection, and it drives him crazy.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when he enters the coffee shop on one friday afternoon with a cut near his left brow, you immediately stop what you’re doing and go over to his table before he can even settle down in his seat. you insist on covering the wound, and you pull out a pink flower-patterned bandaid from your apron pocket. he watches as your hands lightly tremble to remove the adhesive strips, and melts at how you brush his hair aside to press the bandaid lightly against his forehead. it only takes a whiff of your vanilla scent to lose all sense of time and his surroundings – he can only look up into your heavenly eyes, which blink slowly in the hazy lighting.

he’s a man that should think with his head. when he sees you wearing an outfit that isn’t your coffee shop apron for the first time, he stops dead in his tracks.

it was late that friday, and it was well past his usual time to enter the shop, but he could never let a full week pass without surrounding himself in your jolly aura.

as you prepare to close the blinds and flip the store sign, you see a familiar face press a hand to the other side of the front door. you immediately let him in, and he’s frantically apologizing for his tardiness.

“it’s completely fine! i’ll get your regular going in just a second!” your bubbly laugh fades as you head back to the counter, and for the first time, he soaks in the emptiness of the shop’s usually chatter-filled environment. there’s only one overhead light turned on, and the scent of lavender drifts with a candle’s airy smoke.

he’s fixated entirely on your outfit. you’re wearing a ruched top with pink laces and frills for straps, and paired with a pleated mini skirt with knee-length socks, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. when you catch him looking, you strike a small pose, one hand on your hip and an empty coffee cup on the other. you then burst into your soft giggles.

he can’t. he absolutely can’t.

his eyes are glued down to where his hands are clasped on the table. when you ask him if he’s had a rough day, he answers with a simple two-word response, sort of. you don’t question him further, and he’s thankful you don’t.

if he believes in anything other than science, it’s aphrodite and her blessings to bestow your pluperfect presence before him. it’s as if cupid shot an arrow directly into his heart, or if a mage cast an irrevocable spell on him. he doesn’t want to imagine a life without you.

and every night since then, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. he wonders if he could somehow ask garcia to search you up, but he knows he shouldn’t exploit his position to take his chances with you. at least his head doesn’t want to.

his heart tells him to take a chance.

he decides to take the leap of faith.

he knows your favorite flower, clothing brand, and lip tint like the back of his palm. he recites the answers every morning, a secret rehearsal he conducts as he straightens his tie in front of the mirror. he makes a purchase from your favorite flower shop a few blocks away from your store, and sucks in a deep breath before flicking his watch so it rolls up his wrist. he gently presses on the door handle.

you’re busy as usual, preparing cups and plating desserts for each customer. the line moves forward with a rhythmic pace, and you greet each customer, regulars and first-timers alike, with the same smile. your eyes enlarge when your favorite customer stands in front of the cash register, and the sight of his face instantly transmits a sigh of relief from your lips. you look down at his hand, where you notice he’s holding your favorite flowers that are wrapped tightly in pink gift paper.

“ah, didn’t know you liked those too!” you lower your head to examine the flowers in their full glory, and spencer even brings them up to your nose so you can smell the sweet scent.

“they’re for you, actually.” he speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a hint of excited overtone.

“you got these… for me? i- thank you so much! you didn’t have to!” you hurriedly accept the bouquet as he extends his hand over the counter, and set the flowers down on a neighboring table. you scurry over to the cake display and plop a slice of cake on a small plate, before handing his usual drink with extra sugar on the side.

“all on the house!” your lips shape up into a beautiful crescent shape, and he finds himself fiddling his watch to resist looking you in the eye. he gives you a lopsided smile, and nervously grabs two forks from the counter before leaving you a ten dollar bill in your tip jar.

“i-if you’d like, you can come find me during your break. we can have the cake together… again, that’s only if you’d like,” his fingers jitter as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and before you can object, he’s making strides back to his seat.

when it’s break time, you find spencer in his usual corner, his cake left untouched.

“you shouldn’t have waited, really,” you grab a tall stool and set it so you’re sitting with your knees touching his. he looks up from his book, time and eternity by seiichi hatano.

“this is your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” he moves the plate towards you so you can take the first bite. when you do, staring right into his eyes as your tastebuds hit the fork, he instinctively licks his lips.

spencer tells you that he needs to get something off his chest.

“what is it?” you ask, and he points to your apron. loosen the knot behind your back, he tells you, and you do. you feel a note twisted in between the fabric, and you confusedly uncrumple the crinkled paper.

it reads, will you be my girlfriend?

the dot of the ‘i’ in girlfriend is drawn in with a shaded heart, and you bite your lip back as the cute aggression kicks in.

you don’t even hesitate. you have so many questions about how the paper’s even got there in the first place, but you couldn’t care to ask. you’re fervently nodding at him, leaning in and giving him a tight embrace. he hadn’t expected you to react so quickly, so he hesitates for a brief second before wrapping his arms around you.

present day, and he walks with you side-by-side, your hand enclosed in his. you’re humming a soft tune and he’s looking at you with a wide grin on his face. he’s so lucky to have you, an absolute dream come true. he’s grateful for how he gets to spend every night with you, a significant advancement from once every week at the coffee shop.

speaking of the coffee shop, it’s been seven months since the two of you sat together in the quaint corner of the café, and since then, he’s utterly fallen for you. his eyes follow your every move, and he listens as you ramble about your favorite dress on sale at the large shopping mall a few blocks from the apartment. while he makes mental notes of all of your favorite items, the reality is he’s finding it to be an incredible struggle trying to focus on your words. his focus hones in on your exposed neck with a laced choker wrapped around. it’s such a fragile piece of fabric, weighted with a heart-shaped locker with his initials. his initials.

he gulps. he wants to stick a finger between the fabric and your neck, and he wonders what it’s like to have you wrapped around his finger, so intimately linked.

just as his thoughts intensify, a voice breaks out from across the street.

“reid!”

you squeeze spencer’s arm as a group of well-dressed people approach the two of you, waving while their mouths hang open in surprise.

“there’s no way i’m seeing you on a shopping spree right now!” a woman with straight jet-black hair grins, her thumb hooked on her belt loop as she leans to one side. a woman with blonde hair and red glasses sporting a colorful spotted dress shortly joins the union alongside another man, who exudes a mysteriously charismatic air with his bold sunglasses.

they acknowledge your presence each with a handshake and introduce themselves.

“you never told me you were seeing someone,” morgan whistles, patting spencer on the shoulder.

spencer’s quiet during the entire exchange, and he mumbles quietly about how he’s busy helping you run errands.

“you guys moved in together yet?” the man continues to ask, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he smirks. you nod and gleefully say yes, to which spencer lets out a squeak.

“oh would you look at that! our little spencer’s all grown now! my man,” morgan leans in for a side-hug, and spencer awkwardly bows his head down. his entire face is now red, his lips buried in the soft texture of his scarf. garcia and emily look at you and spencer with an awestruck expression.

“where’d you find such a beautiful woman?” emily points a finger at you while interrogating spencer, and while you’re sure she’s just being nice, you can feel the heat surfacing from your cheeks.

“shut up, emily,” your boyfriend puffs, and he quickly grabs your hand and shoves it in his pocket. he mouths, let’s go, but you’re too polite to leave a conversation that hasn’t formally ended.

“aww, is our hollywood genius shy?” morgan prods at spencer’s arm, while spencer brushes his hand off with an annoyed expression. meanwhile, the girls compliment your style and continue to shower you with questions, asking you where you were headed to and how you met spencer.

“well, i’m glad to know you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. i sort of knew spencer was seeing someone, but i didn’t expect any of this. you’re the cutest woman i’ve ever encountered, and i’m sure spencer’s overjoyed to have someone like you,” garcia talks excitedly and grasps your hands in her palms.

“and i’m lucky to have met someone like him.” you smile sweetly, tilting your head to look at spencer. he’s looking at the ground as if it’s more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“take care of him for us, will you?” morgan winks at you.

“of course.”

“and remind him every day that he’s with the most beautiful person in the world.”

you feel a tug at your jacket, and you turn around. spencer’s face is lit up with a deep shade of pink, and you know he’s signaling that he wants to head home. you quickly turn to the group to tell them you have to go, and they nod understandingly. garcia offers a tight embrace and pouts as spencer practically pries you away from her.

when the two of you turn the corner, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure his coworkers are out of sight. he then encloses you in a tight embrace and kisses your forehead.

“i’m sorry about that sudden… encounter,” he speaks into your ear, and you feel your heart flutter. your eyes close momentarily, and when you open them, he’s peering down at you while his hand rubs up and down your arm.

“don’t be, i enjoyed talking to them,” you whisper back, staring into his steady gaze.

“i’m sorry for not telling them earlier, but i really meant to. i love you... so much.” he vocalizes the last five words with a breathy tone, and you freeze, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

they’re words you wish could be assembled and framed on a wall, transformed into something tangible that captures the picture-perfect moment of his romantic confession.

“tell me that a hundred more times when we get home.” you give him a cheesy grin before you blush at the realization of your own words.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #mgg x reader

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rindreamery · 9 days ago

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NISHI BFF !!!! ( ≧ᗜ≦) congrats on 300 followers !! <3333 u really deserve it since all of ur writing are good :3333 anw ! i'd like to place an order w itoshi rin !! (shocking, i know) i'd like the flavor to be sweet with the 🍨 and 🍦 as toppings !!! hehe that's all, thank u for ur service <33 CONGRATS AGAIN & LOVE U LOTSSS !!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶 - totally not miro

ORDER 6: READY TO GO !

rin + sweet + kiss on the lips + fake dating w.c. 1.5k+

note. THANK YOUU SO MUCH MIRO !! (idk if i should tag, but @choccorin) whew i got carried away writing this 👩‍🦯 rin kissers and those with the rin yearning agenda, this fic is for you guys !! (me included LOL)

interested in more? check out the lounge !

luck just never seems to be on his side, rin concludes.

the overhang on the roof does nothing to shield you two from the downpour— the raindrops feel like they’re coming down in sheets, hitting from an angle that renders the overhang absolutely useless, and there seems to be no end in sight. the storm seems to only roar louder the longer you stay out, and you’ve both come to terms with the fact that you’re bound to get sick after this.

you’re both drenched, shivering from the cold seeping through the fabric of your clothes, and the only warmth you can feel are your shoulders pressed up against each other. he’s glaring at the sky, as if cursing it in his mind, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the situation is.

he eyes you from the side, with no real malice. “this is insane,” rin grumbles under his breath, wiping away the stray droplets that slide down his face. it's useless; the rain is relentless, his hair is already soaked all the way through, and his bangs are sticking uncomfortably to his face. “all this because you wanted some damn ice cream.” and now you’re both stranded, waiting out a storm for who-knows how long.

“hey,” you frown at him, voice laced with offense. “i didn’t ask you to come with me. you tagged along on your own!”

he doesn’t refute, partly (mostly) because he knows you aren’t wrong. but he doesn’t bring up the fact that it was bordering nighttime, the sun on the verge of setting right as you were about to leave, and that he was not going to let you walk by yourself. so he sulks instead, face still as displeased as ever, and looking off to the side as his ears and face flood with heat.

it doesn’t stop you from feeling guilt, however. you look at the side of his face, lips pressed into a tight line as you think of what to say next. “let’s try to look on the bright side,” you nudge his arm, trying to get him to look at you. “it’s kind of perfect, right? this feels like something straight out of a coming-of-age movie. i’ll drag you to the street under the rain— and you won’t complain because we’re both drenched already anyways— and we’ll dance like our lives are stress-free and perfect.”

“absolutely not.” there’s an incredulous look on his face as he shoots you a glance, before he’s shaking his head and scooting further away from you. you both shiver at the loss of contact. “stop watching those rom-coms, they’re giving you stupid ideas.”

you roll your eyes, playfully, though he doesn’t see. you won’t take no for an answer, though, and there’s a glint of determination in your eyes before you’re abruptly standing up. his eyes shoot to you, a look of concern washing over his face as he realizes what you’re about to do. before he could protest any more, your hand is already wrapping around his wrist, tugging him along with you toward the empty street.

he tells himself that he at least tried to yank you back under the “safety” of the overhang, but he’s never really had the heart to be rough with you, so he doesn’t stop you.

“what are you—” he starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your laughter, blending with the sound of the rain falling around the two of you. the words get stuck in his throat, and he mentally reprimands himself for thinking about how pretty your laugh sounded just now. it concerns him, the fact that every little thing you do seems to have such a big effect on him.

you’re blissfully unaware.

“come on,” you say, dragging the last word, voice on the precipice of pleading with him. but, he thinks to himself, you really would never have to plead with him. (he’d say yes to you, in a heartbeat, if he would allow himself.)

the lack of resistance allows you to drag him in front of you, and your arms find their way onto his shoulders and your hands clasp behind his neck. he stiffens visibly against you, unfamiliar with this feeling of being this close to you. at least, not like this— not when it’s just the two of you and everything feels more real. as if you actually like him, but he pushes that thought into the back of his mind. he tells himself to push you away. “dance with me, just this once. please?”

rin just doesn’t know how to say no to you, and he folds. so he lets you spin the two of you around the wet asphalt, feeling the rain fully soak through your clothes, ignoring the chill that settles deep under your skin and into your bones. it’s cold, but all he feels is the warmth of your skin on his and the blooming warmth that spreads through his body. it’s cold, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel so cold around you.

though, this is the most awkward dance imaginable; you’re constantly stepping on his toes, and his hands feel robotic as they cling weirdly onto your waist, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. neither do you, so he supposes you don’t mind. there’s no fluidity in his movements, and he’s sure dancing with him is the equivalent of dancing with a mannequin, but oddly enough, you seem to enjoy this.

you cling to him in a way that’s closer than necessary, and you’re smiling at him, looking deep into his eyes with an emotion he’s never really seen before. it makes him wonder: how is he looking at you right now?

deep down, he enjoys this too, and it shows in the way he doesn’t push you away. instead, holding onto you tightly, fingers digging into your waist. it’s his first chance at seeing the real you—

rin’s gazing deeply at you right now, face flushed and hot as he takes in the sight of you. there’s a carefree and truly happy smile on your face, and your laugh repeats like some melody in his head, and you look beautiful. even with your matted hair and clothes sticking weirdly to your skin, his opinion of you never changes.

he’s thankful for the small distance between you, scared of his own thoughts and how he just can’t seem to think clearly around you. he’s thankful for the distance, until he isn’t.

there’s space between you one second, and then it shrinks; you’re pulling him by the neck, even closer to you as you try to whisper something into his ear. it’s inaudible, he doesn’t hear a word you’re saying. not when all he can focus on is the proximity, or lack thereof, between the two of you. you stay like this, until he hears you vaguely call out his name, and then silence. his breath picks up, the same with yours when you both realize just how close you’ve gotten.

you make an effort to pull away. but he acts before he thinks. rin holds you in place, and just as quickly as the thought comes, he kisses you— awkward, clumsy, and urgent.

it’s not slow, but pouring with an unexpected passion. your teeths clash and you both fumble around as you try to find harmony, until your lips finally move in sync with his. it’s sweeter than expected, and he likes it more than he would ever admit. he can feel your lips subtly smile into his own, and he’s sure he is too, but he ignores it as he chases this unnamed feeling. the feeling that makes him feel weird, fuzzy, happy?

your hands find their way to the hairs at the nape of his neck, burying your fingers in the strands as you pull him in, and his arms wrap themselves around you. it's overwhelming, and your minds feel like they've gone into overdrive. you’re both trembling— from the cold or from the rush of it all, you’re not really sure.

the rush doesn’t stop the alarms in his head from going off.

do you like him too? is this real for you too? because, as far as he’s aware, you don’t do this in a fake relationship. at no point should it ever include kissing like you meant it. at no point should the thought, “i could stay like this,” pop into his mind.

but it did, and this kiss was very much real, and he meant it.

as you pull away for air, your breaths mingle, and you stay frozen in each other's arms as you wrap your head around what just happened. he looks horrified, eyes widening, like he’s just realized what he’s done.

you’re out of breath, and your face is mirroring his. like the reality of the situation had just sunk in. and for a second, he panics. he’s about to pull away from you, unravel himself from your hold and mumble out an apology, and maybe pretend this never happened—

“i think i’m in love with you.” instead, the words come tumbling out of your lips. rushed, raw, full of emotion and feeling. as if they've spilled from your heart. “like, for real.”

rin’s heart stutters, and he breathes hard. it’s a pattern with him, because once again, he acts before he thinks. the words, "i think i'm in love with you, too,” falls from his lips. “like, for real, too.”

#ᯓ★ nishi's dessert lounge .ᐟ #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff

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faevi · 11 months ago

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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.”

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