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kenyummy · 7 months ago

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BEACH DAY — BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?

note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!

wc: 6.2k

TODAY

is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.

So, you were heading to the beach.

The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.

It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed.

So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.

Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...

You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.

Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go.

You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.

You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.

With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.

They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.

Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.

You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.

Too bad this peace would not last for too long.

Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.

You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.

A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.

Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"

He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."

It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."

Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"

"YOU—!!!"

Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...

"Hello, Isagi."

Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."

He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"

He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"

He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.

Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids.

And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.

Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio.

Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).

"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."

"Get your eyes off my chest."

"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.

"You too, stupid crow."

"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."

You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."

"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"

He pauses. "Point taken."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around.

Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.

You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).

"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."

You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."

Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be.

"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."

Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.

Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.

"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."

Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."

He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"

You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."

He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."

"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."

He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."

"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."

You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."

He says, but you do not catch it.

Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"

The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"

His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."

Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."

"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"

You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."

He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."

"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."

You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"

You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.

Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.

Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.

Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).

You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children.

You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.

You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]."

You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.

"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."

Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."

He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."

You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."

The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.

You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.

You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment.

It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."

The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"

Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?

Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"

You laugh. "I know."

The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.

Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.

"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"

You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.

He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek.

You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.

Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back.

You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."

You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.

You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.

Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.

Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"

You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."

"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"

You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."

The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"

Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."

You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"

He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."

"You sound like you care about that more than me."

"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."

You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"

He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."

You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.

Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.

You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.

"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.

"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"

Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"

The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"

He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.

You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."

Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.

Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"

Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.

You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"

Huh? Ready for what—!!!

You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness.

You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.

Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.

You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.

You've never felt prouder of yourself.

You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.

His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.

"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."

You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.

Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.

You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"

He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."

Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.

He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.

His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."

He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.

His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.

His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.

The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two.

It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.

You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.

Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.

The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.

Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.

Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.

"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."

When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.

He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.

Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.

Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.

The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."

He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"

He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.

Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?

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stevehours · 5 months ago

Text

over and over again

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, smut

wc: 788

You’re not even certain how it happened. The only clear fact is that Steve Harrington has made you cum a third time. With nothing but determined fingers and a smug fucking smirk. You’re practically drenched in sweat, hair sticking to your forehead and it’s a goddamn struggle to catch your breath. It’s the peak of the summer, the room is muggy with humid summer air and reeks of the tangy smell of sex. Breasts swaying with every rise and fall of your chest as you press your palms to your eyes. Steve’s tugging them away before long and then grazing the pads of his thumbs against your perked nipples, causing a jolt to rip through your body and a weak, pathetic little yelp to escape your mouth.

Steve looks just as fucked out as you do, yet he remains completely clothed. Sweat beading at his hairline and his eyes are all hazy, like he’s the one who’s just came several times in the short span of thirty minutes. However, he does look proud of himself. And he should, because Steve talks you through it each time and that’s really the magic here. You think. Unless Steve has a secret trick to make a girl cum in record time.

“How do you…” you give up on the question, settling back into attempting to catch your breath.

Steve mouths at your hip, continues to toy with your nipples and rolls his hips into the mattress. Trying to get his own small relief. He laughs softly, a breezy little sound as he peers up at you, “How do I what?”

“Do that,” you mumble.

His strong fingers trace down your abdomen, threatening lower and lower as you squirm. Steve smiles against your skin as he answers, “It’s fun, I like watching you react so I kinda get carried away, I guess.”

“Carried away is an understatement,” you breathe, thighs shaking as he pries them open again. “S-Steve… I don’t know if I can.”

He pouts up at you, all glassy eyed full of lust as he smooths his hand on the tender flesh of your thigh. Electricity runs up the curve of your spine the closer he gets to your center as he begs, all soft and needy, “Please, just give me one more…”

How could you say no to that?

“I- fuck, okay,” you whine, crying out when he surprises you by pushing your thighs apart and getting his mouth on your cunt. Essentially making out with your drenched folds and spent clit. Fingernails making little crescent shaped marks where he clings to the flesh of your thighs. “Oh! Steve! Fuck!”

Your fingers slide into his sweaty hair, back arching as the euphoric waves of pleasure ripple through you. Your eyes cross as they roll back, the heel of your foot sliding down Steve’s strong back and he moans muffled into your core like he enjoys this more than you do. It’s got to be equal though. You’re on a whole other dimension, floating up and up as his tongue rolls up and down your folds. He circles his lips around your sensitive clit and sucks, pulls a sound out of you that borderlines on a scream while your fingers pull on his hair. That only spurred him on further, drags his tongue down to your entrance and licks around the pulsing hole. His sharp nose bumps against your clit and he actually uses it to stimulate you more, moves his head to rub his nose against your clit. Steve blinks up at you, is insistent on watching you fall apart all thanks to his mouth.

His hands turn under your thighs and he pushes them up, knees to your chest while he fucks his tongue into you. Nose still bumping against your clit. And he keeps moaning into you, little vibrations bringing you that much closer. You hook your hands under your knees, to help hold your legs up and completely surrender yourself to Steve.

The room fills with the filthy sound of Steve eating you out, accompanied by the lewd, uncontrollable moans falling out of your mouth. And the coil in your stomach snaps abruptly, without much of a warning. Steve licks you through it, even as your legs give out and come down to trap him in place, his ears covered by your thighs. Once you’ve come down enough, your legs fall limp to the mattress and you’re grabbing onto his shirt, tugging him up and wrapping your arms around his middle. Kissing him sloppily, needy and desperate. Soon, your legs are wrapping around his waist and you’re clinging onto him like you’re scared me might float away— or maybe you’ll sink into the sweat soaked sheets.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x f!reader

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bloomzone · 8 months ago

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HOW TO GLOW UP IN SUMMER !

Glowing up in the summer can be a fun and exciting journey to enhance your beauty, confidence, and overall well-being.

By: ★﹕stᥲrgιrᥣ﹒

strategies for girls to glow up during the summer:

1.Skin care routine: Start by establishing a consistent skincare routine that works for your skin type. Focus on cleansing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and using sunscreen to protect your skin from the sun's harmful rays. Consider adding serums, face masks, and eye creams to target specific skin concerns.

2.Stay hydrated: Hydration is key to achieving a healthy glow. Drink plenty of water throughout the day to keep your skin hydrated and radiant. You can also incorporate hydrating foods like fruits, vegetables, and herbal teas into your diet to nourish your skin from the inside out.

3.Healthy diet: Fuel your body with nutritious foods that support your skin health and overall well-being. Incorporate fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains into your meals to provide your body with essential nutrients and antioxidants.

4.Exercise regularly: Stay active during the summer by engaging in physical activities that you enjoy. Whether it's going for a run, practicing yoga, dancing, or swimming, regular exercise can improve your mood, boost your energy levels, and enhance your overall glow.5.

5.Sun protection: Protect your skin from sun damage by wearing sunscreen with a high SPF, seeking shade during peak hours, and wearing protective clothing like hats and sunglasses. Sun protection is essential for maintaining healthy and youthful-looking skin.

6.Hair care: Take care of your hair by using hydrating shampoos and conditioners, minimizing heat styling, and getting regular trims to prevent split ends. Consider trying out hair masks to keep your hair looking healthy and vibrant.

7.Self-care: Prioritize self-care activities that help you relax, unwind, and de-stress. Whether it's practicing meditation, taking long baths, getting a massage, or pampering yourself with skincare products, self-care can enhance your inner glow and confidence.

8.Dress for confidence: Wear clothes that make you feel confident, comfortable, and stylish. Experiment with different styles, colors, and accessories to express your personality and enhance your self-confidence.u don't need to buy from expansive brand

9.Positive mindset: Cultivate a positive mindset by practicing gratitude, affirmations, and self-love. Embrace your uniqueness, celebrate your strengths, and focus on the things that make you happy and fulfilled.

#becoming that girl #glow up #wonyoungism #wonyoung #dream life #it girl #creator of my reality #divine feminine #it girl affirmations #love affirmations #glowingskin #summer #love yourself #confidence #self care

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godsfavdarling · 3 months ago

Text

Smooth

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader words: 880 summary: Spencer helps you shave your legs. warnings: none! no y/n

The bathroom had turned into a steamy sauna, with the hot water filling the bathtub, creating a thick, misty fog that clung to the mirrors and walls.

You meticulously washed your legs under the stream, feeling the heat seep into your skin, loosening the muscles as you prepared them for shaving.

Summer was still in full swing, and your collection of short skirts, dresses, and shorts had yet to be put away. For you smooth legs were essential, and today, you were determined to make sure they were flawless.

After rinsing off the last of the soap, you reached for a new razor from the box and carefully started to shave your ankles, working with slow, deliberate strokes.

The room was silent save for the hum of the water and the rhythmic scraping of the razor against your skin.

You had just started on your calves when a gentle knock echoed through the steam-filled room.

“Yeah?” you called out, not looking up from your task.

Spencer gently opened the door and peeked his head inside. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had that concerned look you knew all too well.

“Everything okay? You’ve been in here longer than usual,” he asked, his voice soft and tinged with worry.

“Not that long,” you chuckled, still focused on shaving. “I just wanted to take my time. Summer’s still here, and I don’t want any burns or bumps. Why?”

“Just worried,” Spencer said quietly, stepping a little further into the bathroom. The steam immediately clung to his skin, and his glasses fogged up slightly.

You finally looked up at him and smiled. “Nothing to worry about. I’m okay.”

“Good.” But he didn’t move, instead lingering by the door, his gaze fixed on you as you worked.

“What is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Can I try?” he blurted out, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“Try what? You wanna shave your legs?” you teased.

“No. Can I try to shave yours?” he asked, more shyly this time, his eyes darting away as if embarrassed by the question.

“Umm… okay. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to try. You always complain about how tired you are afterward,” he admitted, stepping fully into the room now, the humidity making his hair curl slightly at the ends.

“It’s just that it’s so hot,” you replied, gesturing to the steam-filled room.

“Well, you could stop turning our bathroom into a sauna every time,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t think I can help it,” you joked back, grinning. “It’s more powerful than me, you know.”

Spencer laughed, the sound warming the already steamy atmosphere.

“Okay, pretty boy. Come on! Get to work,” you encouraged, extending your leg towards him.

He stepped closer, his movements careful and deliberate as he took the razor from your hand.

Spencer sat on the edge of the tub, his hands gentle but firm as he positioned your leg just right. You relaxed into the sensation as he began, his touch precise and attentive.

His brows furrowed in concentration, and he worked in silence, the only sound the occasional splash of water and the steady scrape of the razor.

When it was time to shave your thighs, you stood up to give him better access. The shift in position brought you closer to him, the heat from the water mingling with the warmth of his presence.

His hands were steady, guiding the razor with a surprising amount of skill for a first-timer in somebody else’s leg shaving.

Afterward, he rinsed the razor and set it aside, before reaching for a soft cloth to wash the remaining suds from your legs.

His hands were tender as he helped you rinse off, the water cascading down in rivulets, and you couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. The moment felt intimate, almost sacred, the steam swirling around you both.

When he was done, Spencer wrapped you in a fluffy towel, lifting you out of the tub with a surprising amount of ease.

You yelped in surprise, then burst into laughter as he carried you across the room, your wet hair dripping onto his shoulder.

He set you down gently and reached for the lotion, his expression serious again. “This part’s important too, right?” he asked, squeezing some into his palm.

“Very,” you confirmed with a smile, watching as he carefully rubbed the lotion into your legs.

His hands moved slowly, almost reverently, working the lotion into your skin with firm, soothing motions that felt more like a massage than anything else.

You let out a contented sigh, the tension melting away with each stroke of his hands.

By the time he was finished, your legs felt smooth and soft, and you were more relaxed than you had been in days. Spencer looked up at you, his eyes warm and proud. “How did I do?” he asked.

“Perfect,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Absolutely perfect.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing with pride and affection. “Good. Now, how about we get out of this sauna?”

You chuckled taking his hand as you both stepped out of the steamy bathroom, the cool air of the hallway a welcome contrast to the warmth you’d just left behind.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot

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lovers-rck · 10 months ago

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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT4

pt1 here , pt2 here , pt3 here

n/a hello y'all!!! first of all, thank you for all the support in this little series <3 i can't believe all the love that is receiving

this is an additional chapter, it's not necessary to read it if you don't want to because is all smut and it's not essential to the plot, but its made for those who enjoy read this kind of content so... enjoy!!

☆

ellie's kisses ignite your skin, wet and noisy they plant themselves on your sweaty skin thanks to the summer heat. her touch is hungry and shy at the same time, trying to engrave every part of you in her fingertips.

she can't believe what's happening. in her mind a battle rages where her thoughts fly by and don't stop. she's touching you, she's kissing you, is this real?

the fantasy she's been imagining before going to sleep for the last few months becomes reality the moment your mouth provokes a choked moan from her lips.

"ellie" you moan between kisses, a trickle of saliva connecting them each time he pulls away.

"what?" ellie murmurs in the same tone as you, her voice choked "tell me what you want."

instead of telling her what you want, you show her, and when ellie watches as you untie your bikini straps and bare your breasts ellie has to keep her mouth shut to keep from drooling. she quickly understands, and her tongue plays around your nipple, eliciting slight moans from you.

ellie massages and sucks on your breasts with a skill you never knew she possessed, and when you watch her in action, you have the urge to moan and let everyone hear how good she makes you feel, even with just one touch.

"they're better than in the picture" ellie murmurs against your skin, and you can't help but laugh. silly as always, you think.

"you idiot" she smiles and moves down to your stomach, marking a path of kisses.

"i'm just telling the truth"

you pull her hair in playful response, but when ellie lets out a choked moan you feel a warmth invade your body. your fingers play with the collar of her t-shirt, and ellie pulls it off, she has a sporty top that does wonders for your eyes.

she kisses your stomach, shamelessly sucking on your skin and leaving a trail of saliva all over you, so obscene that you feel sick for enjoying it.

"i didn't know..." you say, between moans "i didn't know this side of you."

you can hear ellie laugh as she throws off your shorts, tossing them on the floor "well, you never let me show you"

you knew what ellie's personality was like, playful, obscene and even provocative at many times, so you had an idea of what she would be like in intimacy (not that you ever imagined it...) but you were still surprised at the determination she had for her actions, how she knew where and how to touch to elicit sounds from your mouth.

her hands kneaded the soft skin of your thighs, admiring how her fingers dug into your flesh. with a sudden movement, ellie pulled you to the edge of the bed causing a giggle from you which she also joined in. "silly. i'm trying to eat you out and you're laughing."

that caused you to laugh even harder, pushing ellie's head away from your cunt with your hand – you couldn't stop laughing.

ellie bit your finger and took advantage of your complaint to grab your wrist and press it against the mattress, leaving you immobilized.

"cannibal" you said, inwardly enjoying ellie's control.

she only murmured a small "mhm", planting kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and kissing the skin abused by her mouth. the laughter passed quickly, your hips moving towards ellie's mouth impatiently, eager for her touch.

"ellie" you murmured between moans "don't tease"

ellie left your thighs and moved back up to meet your face.

"tell me what you want" she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke "tell me what you want from me and i'll do it."

ellie could be provocative. she knew how to treat you, and over so many years of friendship she had learned to codify your personality; whiny and too proud for your own good, and of course she was going to take advantage of that once she had you the way she wanted you.

"don't do that" you murmured, looking into her eyes. she noticed how they were crystallized.

"don't be shy" she replied, leaving kisses all over your cheekbones and jaw "it's me, ellie. your best friend" she said and a playful smile planted itself on her face.

ellie really didn't need your order - she knew she could go on with her mission without you telling her, but something inside her wanted, no, needed, to hear what you wanted, almost as a confirmation that this wasn't a fever dream of hers, one where she was hallucinating.

"come on" ellie continued, one of her hands playing with the elastic of your underwear "i want to hear you"

the sensations are too much for you, so you surrender "touch me, please" you say, feeling your face flush with embarrassment "i need you"

ellie may be provocative, but she's not cruel – so as soon as she hears you, she returns to her kneeling position in front of you, grabbing your thighs and positioning them on her shoulders "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

you can't help but let out a moan as soon as you feel her fingers move your panties to the side and her tongue make contact with your intimacy. ellie's fingers sink into your flesh and hold you open before her.

the only thing that comes out of your mouth are stifled moans and groans, her movements not letting you have a breath. your hips chase her mouth and her tongue accompanies the movement - you grab her hair causing her to moan in your clit.

her mouth works wonders against your cunt. it doesn't take long before a knot in your stomach builds, creating so much pressure that you feel like you're going to explode at any moment - and you do, as you feel your climax.

ellie quickly notices thanks to the movement of your body and your moans, abandoning her actions and devoting herself to planting kisses on your thighs, caressing and helping you catch your breath.

"k know" she says, watching as your eyes are closed and your body suffer from little spasms "i'm here" you feel her hand grab your hand and caress it.

"do you want some water?" you hear ellie ask after a few seconds, lying down next to you.

you deny and grimace as you feel your wet panties "im okay, thanks" ellie nods and smiles at you. you can see her lips glistening from your juices and it's so obscene you swear you can finish again at such sight. "you have a little bit of me in your mouth" you murmur, your thumb stroking ellie's bottom lip.

"your fault" ellie answers you, lightly biting your fingertip. you let out a giggle.

the air feels heavy. the sun streaming through the window hits your almost naked body and ellie can't help but admire it once again.

"u little perv" you say as you see where her gaze was directed.

ellie rolls her eyes and reaches up to plant a small kiss on your lips "can't help it".

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou

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anika-ann · 4 months ago

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A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 1 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 7,3k

Summary: It's just a bunch of Avengers and SHIELD agents who often cooperate on missions - hanging out and getting to know each other better on a camping trip. What could possibly go wrong?

A few things. A few things could and they all seem to have you at the centre. Luckily, you have a hero in shining armour to help you in the time of need.

Warnings: allusions to NSFW, minor injuries, mention of misogyny, brief reference to PTSD, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration. Congrats @bigtreefest and thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - in this one, you shall find “why’s it…sticky?” and modified “here, you can share with me”. I hope to finish the second part in time 😁

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The afternoon North Carolina sun warmed your skin pleasantly, even as you found yourself panting after the having climbed up the hill you. The backpack with an attached sleeping bag and a tent pack was growing heavier and heavier on your shoulders with every step, but the view and the company – most of it anyway – were certainly worth it.

Everyone seemed affected by the fresh air and exercise the Great Smokey Mountains provided, the atmosphere light and content as this was, for most, the first trip in a long time that had nothing to do with a mission.

Sure, one could argue there were some strings attached, as the ‘mission’ was to solidify relationships within the group – several Avengers and several SHIELD agents who were often outsourced for Avengers-level missions – but still: no one was shooting at you. And you wouldn’t have to write a report. That counted for something. For a lot, in fact.

Plus, the path was the goal. The destination, while set precisely according to Steve’s plan, might as well be just about anywhere.

You glanced at him as he walked by your side, smiling absently. The corners of his lips only twitched higher as he noticed you watching him, his gaze flickering to you as well.

He looked as if he was born to do this. A halo of dark blond hair around his head ruffled by the wind, sunlight painting them almost golden. The heaviest backpack of all sitting on his wide shoulders, straps around his broad chest and thin waist. Legs clad in light track pants that hugged his thighs and ass in the best way possible, a downright magnetic sight--- no.

Uh-huh, no.

No thoughts of that sort. You had forbidden yourself from that, at least for the duration of this trip, because you had known Steve would be a literal walking thirst-trap, the sheer happiness surrounding him making his glow ten times brighter. You had forbidden yourself from thinking like this, because this was not an appropriate observation to make about a colleague, a superior no less, even as everybody else probably thought along the same lines.

It didn’t matter that you wanted to throw hands at the mere idea of someone else making that observation as well. You didn’t exactly have the right to do that and it was a lost fight before it even started. Steve Rogers was simply too beautiful and essentially perfect in all his imperfections, and god knew that those imperfection had nothing to with his body. Ass included-

Gaze quickly snapping up back to his face, you found him smiling at you warmly, a soft dusting of freckles adorning his cheeks from the prolonged exposure to sun. The same phenomenon could be observed on his bare arms; a constellation of freckles, where angels had kissed their kindest, prettiest and most loyal creation; a constellation of places where you’d love to press your lips and linger, breathe in the scent of his skin and taste it.

God, he was breathtaking and all kinds of alluring. The nature around you was too, sure, the smell of pines and sandy rocks whispering of vacations and good times, but the way he-

“Whoa!” you yelped as you suddenly found yourself tumbling towards the ground, foot having slipped on a rock, you supposed.

Hands outstretched, you had no chance to break the fall, only to slow it, the burden on your back completely changing your momentum.

The second your palms as much as brushed the rocky floor, you were being held by your waist so firmly that none of your actual weight landed on the ground. You would recognize the arms holding you anywhere – just like the scent of sandal wood, musk, man and comfort, suddenly wrapping around you.

The safest place on Earth.

Steve’s arms.

Your stomach made a little flip-flop as his hands squeezed you gently and helped you up, only releasing you when his eyes found yours, silently asking if you were okay.

You responded with an embarrassed smile.

“Whoa, you okay?” Daisy rushed to your side, bless her, breaking the brief moment you had allowed yourself to bask in the sweet worry in Steve’s gaze and in the heat his body was radiating, despite the fact you could feel everyone staring at the newly nominated klutz of the group of superspies. You.

Heat of embarrassment flooded your skin under everyone’s scrutiny – and more so under the judgement in Agent Hopkinson’s glare, the jerk. Then again, you could hardly blame him for looking down on you right now.

Allegedly one of the deadliest agents known to the world; bested by a few rocks on a hiking trail and Steve Rogers’s smile.

You chuckled self-deprecatingly, quietly thanking Steve and turning to Daisy to assure her that besides your pride, nothing had been seriously wounded.

“I’m fine,” you said, scratching your forehead with a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Must have missed a step, I don’t even know how…”

You did know how. You knew it precisely. You hadn’t been watching your step, too mesmerized by the beauty of your favourite Captain – and favourite person in the world. The man with the most honest, goodest, fiercest and most beautiful soul you had ever met, your closest friend.

“I do,” Agent Melinda May commented dryly, a pointed look aimed at your feet, revealing the culprit – and making you wish the Earth could swallow you, especiallysince it was her, the second in command at SHIELD – and one of the most admirable women in history of anything. And she had just seen you, an agent for both Avengers and SHIELD, a master of martial arts, to trip on nothing like a five-year-old. For the same reason too. “Your shoelaces are undone.”

“…thanks. And sorry. Go ahead. I think I can tie my shoelaces on my own,” you chuckled again, swallowing the shame even as you were among friends. Albeit some of them more reluctant than others.

“Clearly not,” Agent Hopkinson remarked, not missing the opportunity to belittle you, making you sigh as you crouched down, taking extreme care not to as much as wobble despite the heavy backpack.

Case on point, you supposed.

Having worked for SHIELD for years now, acting as the main liaison for situations where Avengers needed help, be it due to too many hostiles or the nature of the job leaning more towards spy-work that alien-invasion-work, your general experience was that tolerance and cooperation were the way. Some people were less pleasant than others, that much was true, but one should handle disagreements, various personality traits and different views on life. You certainly could; your approach to conflict, your supposedly calming presence and search for harmony in a team and the calm composure you maintained under pressure to quickly weigh your options, had even earned you your codename, Libra.

You genuinely believed tuning down an attitude for the sake of the mission was the custom, the golden rule.

And then you encountered Agent Martin Hopkinson. He was the exception. And a pain in your ass.

He got along alright with most people despite his arrogance; but you and him were a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He did not like you. Whether it was jealousy of your position, misogyny, or both, or something completely else, you wouldn’t know. But he was bitter and biting, always looking for a flaw, always making snidey comments.

You could handle that – an insult here, a mean comment there. After all, you could take a punch, a stab, a gunshot wound. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands and just a little wit, if you tried hard enough. You had faced soldiers, rapists, murderers; Agent Hopkinson was but a small hindrance, annoyance on legs. But by god, your fists itched whenever he opened his mouth. And the feeling was mutual.

However, as a professional, you worked hard not to reciprocate his aggression, even as it only ever remained verbal; the same could not be said about him. And he didn’t care zilch about who heard him be ‘smart’ with you either, which, in turn, led to several reprimands; and on one delightful occasion, to Steve almost breaking his jaw when he heard him utter a comment about Coulson pimping out the pet agent again, clearly meaning you. The wrath Steve had showed was nothing hort of holy, and holy was the miracle that Hopkinson was still alive; the fact he barely toned down his attitude was just idiocy.

But had you mention Steve was an angel? A fiercely loyal protective friend, a gentleman, who might swear on occasion and be a little shit par excellence, but god should help anyone whose behaviour towards others offended him. He might be an angel, but was an avenging one.

A caring one too.

As soon as you stood up again, Steve was carefully cradling the backs of your hands, examining the teeny scrapes over your palms with about five droplets of blood in total, frowny gaze flickering to your knee which you hadn’t even realized you had grazed too.

“We should disinfect that.”

“Steve, I’m fine,” you laughed, even as you let him examine the barely-there bleeding, knowing there was no use trying to resist. “Thank you for caring, but it’s literally just a scratch… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, his expression darkening a bit. “That’s not comforting and you know it. And any wound, if infected, can be dangerous – I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

You knew instantly what instance he was referring too, a small shudder running up your spine. Yet, the rational part of you argued that there was no comparison, even if the cut on your arm over a month back had not been all that deeper and wider than this.

“That was literally a poisoned blade, Steve-“

“We were about to take one more break before reaching the destination anyway,” he interrupted you, unrelenting. “Let’s head up to that clearing and we’ll rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Steve-“

“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Bobbi uttered nonchalantly as she passed you, joining the others who had gone ahead already.

You sighed. Bobbi Morse – an agent with a clever sense of humour, sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, a good friend – and she was using all of her powers against you. Wicked.

“It’s just a-“

“Captain’s orders,” she almost sing-sang, earning a grin from Daisy who only shrugged, as if to confirm her words.

You sighed, rolling your eyes; acutely not aware that Steve was still holding your hands in his and your body was heating up from inside at the prolonged contact – particularly your chest and something deep within your belly.

You looked up at him, mildly annoyed and rather amused at his insistence and protectiveness. And even though you wouldn't admit that out loud, touched.

“You’re overbearing. You’re lucky I like you,” you scolded him in a whisper.

He only grinned, his worried gaze clearing and lightning up at your feigned outrage, and squeezed your hands before letting go.

“I love you too. Let’s go.”

You bit your cheek as you nodded, reminding yourself for at least the tenth time since you had set off hiking: friends. The keyword of this trip was ‘friends’.

It was just really hard to actually remember that when Steve looked at you like that, talked like that, and you could still feel the warm imprint of his hands on yours.

Steve Rogers was a man impossible not to fall for; from almost absurd handsomeness to even more absurd goodness he lived by, from his sharp wits to effective moves, from the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled to the tenderness in his touch. His sense of humour equalled to the one of duty, his drive and determination in leading interlacing with a soul of an artist and a simple man who appreciated the most ordinary things.

You had clicked instantly; your friendship bloomed almost effortlessly, working alongside him making for many opportunities to spend time together. Despite barely having met about three months ago, the times you owed him your life for were numerous; and the few times he owed you his, even as there was no such thing as keeping score, only strengthened your bond. Moments where you thought you wouldn’t make it out. Long nights at motels or in a stake-out cars, filled with mindless chatter, profound talks and comfortable silences. His goddamn smiles alone, always feeling a little warmer, fonder, when directed at you.

The fact he had quickly slipped into a habit of calling you Lee, a nickname derived from your codename with a wordless implication of you being his refuge, with that damn smile on his plush lips, was making something in your ribcage tremble with affection.

You had fallen hard. But who wouldn’t? You were only human.

And his proximity, his friendship, his affection, they were most precious to you; no matter which form they’d have, you’d take it.

Even if it meant inappropriate thoughts and your heart racing fast enough to collapse from exhaustion when he cleaned your scraped knee and palms with such care and focus one might believe they were fatal wounds.

Your heart would tremble less if he hadn’t kneeled in front of you as he did so, but you supposed Steve Rogers was just that kind of deadly. He cradled your hands in his huge ones as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings, smiling when he was done; and grinning when you said Thank you, nurse Rogers, the words carrying both humour and respect for his late mother.

His smile resembled the sun so much you almost missed how the actual sunrays grew less and less warm. It was only a few minutes later – every one of them making you aware of the either knowing or incredulous looks following yours or Steve’s every move, almost enough to make you self-conscious when snacking – when you realized you were getting cold.

The solution was easy; and despite how effective it would have been in chasing away the cold and lifting your spirits, it did not involve hugging Steve. Instead, you dived your hand down your backpack through the layer of snacks and other small necessities towards your clothes for the occasion.

And your hand reached something it most definitely shouldn’t have.

“What the-“ you murmured, still acutely aware of all the gazes on you, now joined by Steve’s. “Why is it… sticky?”

Puzzled and horrified – and suspicious, because Hopkinson might have never played a prank on you, but lines always had to be crossed for the first time someday – you threw out the things from the top, pulling out what was normally one of your favourite sweatshirts.

Fairly soaked in a rusty-red oily substance that now resided in your luggage.

Not that it hadn’t been there before – but before, it was safely stored in a Tupperware container along with the thin marinated steaks you had been tasked to carry for the team’s first dinner above fire, Hunter carrying the grate.

“What is it?” Bobbi asked, frowning at the poor article of clothing you had intended to wear.

You didn’t have to sniff it to answer; mostly because the scent of spices was strong enough to answer for you.

“It’s the… marinade from our dinner,” you informed her with a grimace, a small whine escaping you as you went to inspect the rest of your clothes with dread and irritation rising. Because you already knew that the sweatshirt would not be the only thing having been hit. There had been enough to marinade to drown Steve and Bucky in – that was why you had triple-checked it was secured when you had pulled the straw for carrying it in your backpack. “How is that even possible?! I swear I checked it at least five times! I used rubber bands and a plastic bag and- ugh.”

“It probably gave out with all the moving around,” Natasha said, compassion evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed.

And it was. You were only just beginning to feel the mountains part of your destination. You weren’t even shivering – and god knew you had been exposed to much worse conditions with fewer clothing. It wasn’t even raining. You had been through much worse – this was but an inconvenience.

Kinda like Hopkinson himself.

Your gaze flickered to him as he himself put on a thin hoodie, your gaze narrowing in subtle suspicion; but there was no way. He almost looked as if he was pitying you. Genuinely. Though not enough to share his clothes; not that you’d accept if he had offered. But that was beside the point. The point was he probably wasn’t to be blamed for your current misery. Not where marinating your clothes was concerned anyway.

It was probably all on you. It seemed your Tupperware skills still needed some work. Goddamnit.

“It is fine,” you spoke to yourself more than anyone else. “I’ll walk the cold off and then stay close to the fire-“

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a presence by your side, a large navy-blue hoodie entering your sight; it was as if talking about your potential inconvenience summoned him.

An angel by your shoulder.

With a soft frown and a welcoming smile, he set the hoodie next to you as your hands still held onto your tainted clothes.

“Hey… here, you can have mine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, the words dying in your throat when you met Steve’s gaze. The golden hour had arrived, highlighting the freckles and the god-like warm glow of his smile. Your fingers reflexively twitched in the fabric of the t-shirt in your hands as the urge to run them through Steve’s hair instead hit you like a sledgehammer.

Friends, you reminded yourself again. FRIENDS.

He was offering a friendly gesture. It was no different than borrowing boxing wraps from Hunter for training if yours had torn, borrowing a dress from Natasha because none of yours fit the theme of a party, or borrowing heels from Daisy because they matched better than anything you owned. There was nothing special about this and no one would think twice.

Yet, it was a gesture you had to turn down, no matter how gentlemanly it was – no matter how at home you knew you’d feel in that hoodie. The idea alone was tickling along the most sensitive parts of your body and for that alone you should refuse.

“Thank you, Steve… but that wouldn’t be fair,” you said. “You shouldn’t be cold because of me.”

Plus, I know this one is your favourite, you wanted to say, but bit your tongue, aware that the scene was already out-of-chart intimate as it was. It certainly felt like it.

“I won’t. You know I run pretty hot…”

You are hot, you wanted to say – but a little choked noise from Hopkinson and Bucky had you quickly set your mind straight.

Until Steve pulled out the big guns – rather literally. Long fingers wrapped around your bare forearm, goosebumps erupting on your skin despite the nearly burning sensation, breath catching. It did not help the situation that something you didn’t dare to identify for the sake of your sanity flashed in Steve’s eyes when he touched you.

Friends. Friends, friends, FRIENDS-

“See. All warm. And it will stay that way even without a hoodie. Take it. Please,” he added. And soon, a content smile appeared on his face, because he recognized the signs of you yielding.

A girl had to pick her battles. Arguing with Steve was not one of those which you had no chance at winning – it would be like trying to move a ton-worth block of concrete with bare hands. You had enough experience with that – fighting with Steve on the matter of your comfort, not moving concrete – and there was no winning. He respected your choices, yes, but he’d fastened straps of a parachute on you himself if it came to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t have one himself; he was a sweet hypocrite like that.

“Fine,” you sighed, smiling just a bit. “If you insist… thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

You would swear you heard at least three people mutter under their breath: I bet.

Thoroughly warm and comfortable despite the numerous miles in your feet and tens of pounds on your back, you trailed behind Hunter and Bobbi, who were fighting animatedly – and most lovingly – about which European brand beer was the finest. For a couple who had been married and divorced, once talking about each other in not so nice terms including Bobbi being called ‘a demonic hell-beast’, they sure appeared very much in love – but every bit professional when it counted. They were lucky to find each other again, that was for sure. It made one long for a love like that; explosive as they were, you wouldn’t shy away from calling them soulmates. They belonged with each other; they were lucky to have find one another.

As you tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing, long to easily hide your palms, you wondered if you were being lucky or cursed on this trip so far. Tripping. Spilling sauce onto your clothes. Withstanding Hopkinson’s moody glares of which exactly one resembled a shred of compassion and only lasted until you put on the hoodie of the Captain America himself. And yet, surrounded by colleagues, friends and Steve, on a trip with a sun that had slowly begun its descent at your back, you had to count your blessings.

Lucky. You were luckier than most.

Daisy had joined you for a bit, walking side by side with you when the path allowed it, meaningless chatter altering with meaningful; a natural course of conversation between close friends who were together for a few hours with nothing else to do but take it step by step, literally, admire the nature and talk.

Steve had promised it would only take less than an hour and you’d make it to where you were supposed to set camp. He had fallen behind, walking with Natasha and Bucky, who, judging by his tone and Steve’s groans, roasted the team captain about something with Natasha’s occasional but effective help.

Now, about what you assumed was twenty to thirty minutes later, the last challenge of today’s journey awaited you; fording a river.

A rather cold river.

The weather was nice, sure, and you were having a good time; but the idea of warding through water reaching your thighs was not all that alluring.

But of course, Steve Rogers was the man with a plan.

Walking down the river and finding a relatively shallow section of the river with several large rocks, all you had to do was to step from one slightly slippery stone to another without face-planting or letting your heavy backpacks break your balance. Easy – or it should be for a group of athletic agents.

Yet, Bucky and Steve were discarding their shoes in a blink, rolling up their pant legs, ready to dip in and get wet so other wouldn’t.

Your heart skipped a startled beat, a lump growing in your throat, as you watched Steve regard his friend, already knee-deep in water, with the tinniest bit of hesitance.

Cold water. Cold water.

In the early June, the water couldn’t be colder than fifty, fifty-five degrees; but if the supersoldiers planned to stand there until all of you crossed the not-so-unsignificant distance while they’d assist, they would certainly feel it. And while history taught you both Steve and Bucky could clearly take the cold better than anyone, the idea of being the person knee-deep in the water was anything but pleasant.

Especially to someone who had already laid his life by diving a plane into icy waters of the North Atlantic.

Without a second thought, you left the line forming at the best crossing point, walking down the bank to crouch at Steve’s side.

He noticed your presence in an instant, snapping his head to you, an all-easy smile forming on his lips. As if you couldn’t see the brief flash of anxiety before he hid it. As if you couldn’t see his carotid pulsing wildly. As if he, the supposedly fearless man to all, could hide the one flicker of apprehension he allowed himself to feel from you.

“Are you sure about this, Steve?” you asked, voice as low as possible as not to attract attention.

As you met his gaze, understanding flashed in his eye. A silent conversation; he knew why you came to him, where your concern came from.

And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he ignored it. He just gulped and squared his shoulders and rose to his feet, suddenly towering over you again.

“Of course I am.” Of course he was. “It will be much easier than all of us fording through.”

You sighed, looking at him pointedly as you swallowed your irritation – and worry. That was not what you were questioning and he knew it. And you weren’t questioning his dedication or his ability to help either; just the decision to put himself through discomfort anyone else could have taken upon themselves, when it meant more hardship for him than others.

“I know. It just… it can be literally anyone else-- hell, I can do it.”

You could. You’d warm up after soon enough, judging by the terrain awaiting you. It was a better option that him going in there to freeze his toes off at and bring him back to--

To prove your point, you reached for the backpack buckles on your belly to take it off.

Steve’s hand was on your forearm stopping you before you could undo a single one, squeezing.

As your head snapped back to his face, there was a little crack through the mask he had put on, showing just the slightest hint of anxiety now. But there was a fresh wave of warmth in his expression too; gratitude lit up the blue of his irises the way the sun lit up the summer skies, dreamy and sweet.

His thumb pressed into your forearm gently, stroking, reassuring. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders faster than a butter on the stove, something stirring deep inside your bones as you took a shaky inhale.

“Thank you, Lee, but I’ll be fine,” he said, one of his eyebrows arching, a little quirk to his lips. “And we don’t want to undo the work the hoodie has done on you.”

Right. The hoodie. His hoodie. Yes, you were very much aware you were still wearing it, while he remained in a t-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and did all things delightful for his already insanely impressive physique.

Not the point.

You opened you mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by a shout from behind you.

“Oi, punk! You gonna help or just stand there enjoying the view?”

As you both turned to Bucky, you could see him helping Agent May cross the river, already halfway through.

Steve let go of your forearm, smiling at you once more.

“At least take the hoodie,” you insisted. He shook his head, your mouth opening on empty, deeming your effort fruitless.

“I have a jacket if I want… don’t need the hoodie,” he assured you, his grin earning a glint of danger that made your stomach flip-flop funnily, the heat in your abdomen burning hotter. “Plus, it looks much better on you.”

With that, he set off, jogging towards the water, and leaving you stand there with cheeks exploding with heat.

Damn you, Steven Grant.

Shaking your head, you returned to the line, anxiously watching Steve climb down into water, a shudder running down his spine.

“Come on. I saved you a spot,” Daisy said, gesturing for you to stand in front of her, earning an eyeroll from Hopkinson who stood behind her. “Everything okay with you and Steve?”

The phrasing had your head snap up with a startle, heart speeding up.

“What?”

What did she mean by that?! You and Steve?

No. There was you. There was Steve. Two separate entities. Friends.

Checking up on each other. Wearing each other’s clothes. Typical friends.

You relaxed when all you found in Daisy’s gaze was genuine care and curiosity, no trace of implying anything. Right.

You smiled back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Hunter and Bobbi followed after May; then it was your turn. The sight of the river, while beautiful, got a little less pleasant as you stepped on the first stone, testing just how slippery the surface was. It wasn’t awful – you could handle that, even as you felt the extra load on your back disturbing your balance.

But hey – the worst that could happen was you taking a cold bath. Just another inconvenience, right?

Yet, you didn’t have to worry. You didn’t even make it to the second large stone when a familiar pair of warm hands wrapped around yours, offering a gentle but firm support.

You met Steve’s reassuring gaze, a message without words: I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.

You send one back, squeezing his hands: I know. You makeme feel safe. You okay?

A tiny nod on his part and then you were on your way, careful taking step after step, always testing the surface first, making sure your every move was secure before shifting your weight. From one to another, you made it halfway to the deepest part of the crossing without any issue, actually enjoying the little adventure – which had obviously nothing to do with Steve’s touch, because you were not at all disappointed to see Bucky heading back from the other side of the river where he had left Bobbi to take you off of Steve’s hands. Not at all.

You were just stepping on the next stone when you felt a sudden drop in weight on your shoulders and back, an embarrassing yelp erupting from your throat as you scrambled for balance.

A fleeing thought of this trip being cursed for you indeed flashed through your mind as you braced yourself for the impact into cold water despite still trying not to have it come to that.

And it didn’t.

A splash sounded next to you, a few drops cooling your ankle, but that was it; you stood tall and firm on the irregularly-shaped stone, a hot vice of a grip on your hips, your hands having found purchase on just as hot and solid surface nearby.

Steve’s hands securely holding your hips.

Your hands on his shoulders.

Attentive blue eyes looking up at yours to assure both you and himself that you were okay.

Your face heated up, but the rest of your body was set on fire; indecent images of a wholly different situation with Steve’s hands having a steel-like grip on your hips and his eyes boring into yours flooded your mind, a wildfire of visceral need spreading through every single cell of your body and lightning it up. Steve was all about touch. Steve was all about eye-contact. You knew with absolute certainty that he’d never once let his gaze wander from your face when he’d sheathed himself inside you, feasting his eyes, because he lived for capturing images of beauty and he was a giver, the pleasure of people he loved being his own--- and you wouldn’t dare to look away. Your eyes might flutter shut at the sensation of utter-

Forcing yourself to snap back into present – into reality –, looking everywhere but at Steve as your whole body burned, a floating object caught your eye behind Steve’s back. A dark prolonged object, neatly packed, carried away by the stream.

Your tent. The thing that had fallen into water and nearly knocked you off balance was your tent, slowly sinking lower and lower as it slowed down its path down the river.

Great. Really great.

You were fucked.

How did it even-

“I got it!” Bucky hollered, changing course, heading to retrieve what was supposed to be the roof over your head for the next three days.

He’d get it; you weren’t worried. It was fine.

And the tent would be fine too. It was in the waterproof case. It would--- it would be absolutely soaked, because it was sinking. The entirety of the tent had gone under water, including the protective layer that was meant to save you from rain should it come to it.

There was no cloud on the sky but you had a feeling there’d be water dripping on you all night anyway.

How could it have fallen off? You had secured it with the buckled straps to the bottom of your fairly new backpack, checking repeatedly – every time before you put the backpack on again – that it held.

Then again, maybe you hadn’t done that after the fiasco – and the lovely result of it – with your marinated clothes. So you might be cursed, but by your own fault, really-

A squeeze to your hips brought your attention back to Steve, making you realize you were still standing in the middle of the river, stalling.

“I’m sorry, moving on, moving on,” you babbled, only to have him still your movements, eyes scrutinizing your face.

“You okay?”

Funny you should ask.

“Are you?”

You reciprocated the scrutiny; eyes roaming his handsome features, you searched for any signs of discomfort – not from having to hold you, but from still soaking his legs in the cold water. All you found was a reassuring smile; and yet, you couldn’t but brush your thumb inconspicuously over Steve’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort, incidentally along the hem of his t-shirt. An emotion flashed in his irises, eyes darkening a fraction, the grip on your flesh turning almost bruising before he began to release it, taking one of your hands again and then the other. You licked your lips – and you’d swear Steve’s gaze flickered to your mouth at that – standing up straighter.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky dropping your tent on the bank of the river.

“Thank you, Bucky!”

“No problem, dollface. Get moving though, my old knees aren’t built for this cold anymore,” he said, causing you to glare at Steve accusingly.

He had lied.

Of course he had fucking lied.

And he had the audacity to grin when you looked at him with accusatory and genuinely worried eyes.

“Let’s get you to the other side, shall we?”

“I packed your favourite snack, but I just decided I’m gonna eat it alone,” you threatened your vengeance for him for not being honest.

Steve feigned hurt so well you might as well believe it; but the hold on your hands remained gentle and secure as he helped you continue the path. “That’s cold, Lee.”

The corners of your lips quirked up.

“I know it’s cold. Now was it so hard to admit it?” you questioned as you beckoned to the water – causing Bucky to chuckle and Steve to deadpan when he instantly realized your trickery.

“You should be around more often, dollface,” Bucky said, approaching you and taking up on Steve’s task.

Steve just grunted and made his way to help Daisy. You felt your face heat up further at Bucky’s remark, grateful no one else could hear the exchange.

…were you though?

“I’ll take your words for it… and Steve?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly not really offended. “Thank you for catching me.”

His smile, no matter how small, said it all and felt like the softest blanket to wrap around you on a cold winter morning; I’ll always catch you.

Always.

Just as you had expected, once you all made it through the river, you reached the camp spot in no time; and just as you had expected, your tent was a lost cause. You could build it, hoping it would dry out overnight at least bit, but actually sleeping in it was out of question unless you wanted to wake up soaked up and sneezing.

In a brief moment of self-pity you granted yourself, you planted your butt on the ground, laying the drenched parts of your tent next to you, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it as you stared at the traitorous pieces of equipment, including the buckles that had been meant to hold the package to the backpack but had given out.

While everyone busied themselves with unpacking their temporary shelters as well – Natasha with Bucky, Bobbi with Hunter, May, Daisy and Hopkinson each on their own in the lightest and therefore smallest tents possible, Bobbi took note of your state, smiling compassionately.

“Are you okay? The water really did a number on that thing, huh?”

You reciprocated her smile wryly, no less grateful for her care.

“Yeah… But you know what? I win. Sleeping outside? I can stargaze. I’ll be fine,” you said, shrugging and rising to your feet to get to work. You could build the tent to have it dry out at least and wash your clothes in the lake you had settled at. “I’m just… gonna sleep by the fire under the open skies, in… borrowed, non-marinated clothes and with no sleeping bag, because with my luck, it’s probably full of bugs or itching powder or something. It’s fine. God knows I slept in conditions a lot worse than that.”

And wasn’t that the truth. You had slept in much better conditions too, but that was beside the point. You tried to summon the memories of horrible nights spent in damp clothes, freezing, teeth clattering so hard the sound made it impossible to fall asleep; unbearable heat, loud noises, even just annoying persistent chatter. Sleeping under the open skies was practically a blessing in comparison. A dream.

And you did not want to remember nights that had been very different, because that would only make you miserable at your predicament.

“Yeah, not on my watch,” Steve called out lowly, placing another hook in the ground, using his foot to step on it and dig it deeper. “Not when the solution is obvious.”

Your heart skipping a beat at the obvious solution, you barely had time to breathe in to respond when someone else did – in an extremely irritated manner.

“Seriously?! What, you gonna lend her your tent too?” Hopkinson spat, rising from where he had been crouching by his tent. “Maybe even keep her warm through the-“

Steve lunged his direction so fast you didn’t even have time to be offended by the implication.

But Bucky, the supersoldier he was, was much faster; his metal arm stopped Steve in his tracks, palm pressing against Steve’s chest before he could make the almost-breaking-Hopkinson’s-arm a pleasant memory for the man.

Still, Hopkinson had enough wit to shut up and step back hastily, raising his hands defensively. His face turned white as a sheet of paper; good. He had some brain left then, it seemed. How he had survived for so long you had no idea.

Gulping – and shamelessly satisfied at the fear in Hopkinson’s eyes, because Jesus he did not just say that, even as you had thought about exactly the same – you turned your gaze back to Steve and Bucky.

And something in your core exploded hot, a tug so violent and visceral it was almost painful.

If Steve had looked at Hopkinson like he could break his arm all those weeks back when he had made his stupid comment, now he looked like he could break every single bone in his body, snap the guy in half and enjoy it. And he’d enjoy doing it for you. To defend you.

Steve’s smile was always a beautiful sight and so was the softness he could look at you with at times; but the rage in his face now, the fire in his eyes, on your behalf, were nothing short of breathtaking.

Avenging angel indeed.

He might not be carrying a flaming sword, nor had his shield on his arm, but that made him no less menacing, no less divine; and no less beautiful.

“Do we have a problem, Agent Hopkinson?” Bucky asked calmly, despite the clear effort with which he was holding Steve back still, even as Steve visibly didn’t move a muscle.

You were barely moving at all too; your chest was heaving, the rest of your body strung tight with effort not to let show just how affected you were by Steve’s near literal white-knighting.

“No, sir,” Hopkinson saluted, nodding stiffly, before he scrambled to finish building his tent.

“Good.”

Few seconds of deafening silence was only interrupted by the scrape of shoes against ground as the camp slowly came back to life again. Bucky shot Steve a look before he let his metal arm down, watching Steve avert his still flaming gaze from Hopkinson with shoulders remaining squared; and so alluringly wide you just wanted to run your hands over them, just as breathless at the sensation as you were now-

“I mean, makes sense you’d share,” Daisy broke the silence, everyone visibly relaxing. “It looks like your tent is pretty big, eh?”

Your eyes went wide.

Loud cough erupted from Hunter’s direction as he spitted the water he had been drinking; Bobbi patted his shoulders, amusement clear on her face. Bucky’s face twisted in a questionable grimace; Natasha pursed her lips, seemingly one second from making a comment. May bit back a smirk; Hopkinson was only showing his back, but he clearly froze in his movements.

Steve just looked shocked – shocked enough to snap from the anger that had overtook him on your behalf.

You would think it would take Daisy a few seconds to realize how she had worded her statement, accidentally referring to a figurative ‘tent’ men grew in certain situations – but judging by her seemingly innocent smile and the sparkle in her eye, she knew exactly what she had implied. And she had done so on purpose and with delight.

She was right, however. Steve’s temporary dwelling was probably the biggest one at your site and it even included a vestibule, where all the equipment which was meant for everyone was to be stored. His tent had the most space for the reason he could put his backpack to the vestibule alone.

Steve cleared his throat, taking a few steps to you, a relaxed smile having found way back to his face.

“…are you comfortable with sharing a tent with me?”

You reciprocated his smile, shrugging, even as you had to work hard to swallow your amusement at Daisy’s comment. One that was very much on point.

Yes. You were very comfortable sharing a tent with him indeed. More than, actually, but not everyone needed to know that; and you could feel several knowing gazes on you as you answered as levelled as possibly.

“I mean… we have shared a room before for a mission. I’m fine… are you? Comfortable with that, that is?” you asked, perfectly polite, considerate and friendly, even as your heart was racing in your ribcage.

There was no reason for the racing heart though. Because this was okay for friends to do. Absolutely. If you having shared the room sometimes included sharing a bed, which had naturally resulted in cuddling, body heat searching body heat, no one needed to know – especially not Agent Asshole Hopkinson. What happened in a motel room stayed in a motel room. Always.

A cute crinkle appeared in Steve’s eye as he gave the answer you already knew.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Of course, it’s fine.”

More than, whispered his gaze, so you averted it and busied yourself with gathering the wet parts of your tent, clearing your throat.

“Good… that’s good. Thanks. I really appreciate it, Steve.”

“Any time, Lee.”

You could feel his gaze on you, the warmth of his smile like a soft blanket on your back. It was going to be a long, long night.

Part 2

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

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honeytonedhottie · 6 months ago

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summertime beauty routines⋆.ೃ࿔*:･👙

since we are now in the hotter seasons of the year i wanna share some routines, tips and regimens to stay fresh all summer 🍹

SUMMER SKINCARE AND HAIRCARE ;

during the warmer months i transition from a thicker moisturizer to a moisturizer with a gel formula, otherwise the pores of the skin would get clogged. the gel moisturizer would feel rly light on ur skin whereas the thicker moisturizer would just feel too heavy.

when u go swimming whether thats at the beach or the pool, leave in products are the way to GO. bring a leave in conditioner to apply onto your hair after a swim to make sure that ur hair is protected from the salt/chlorine and the sun.

SUMMER SCENT RECOMMENDATIONS ;

when looking for summer scents i gravitate towards more fruity scents for daytime events. and for evening or night events i gravitate towards muskier, more shimmery scents. a fragrance that i recommend for the summer is sol de janeiro rio radiance.

some body products that i recommend for the summer are the watermelon and coconut scented tree hut scrubs. the maui hair products. cabana girl body wash from philosophy. the bum bum body scrub.

STAYING FRESH ;

keep ur body hair trimmed or dont keep it at all bcuz hair traps odor and in order to stay fresh during the summertime, where we r always sweating. hair control/elimination = odor control/elimination.

use glycolic acid on ur armpits at night and use it on ur body in the day time. glycolic acid helps with strawberry legs too, not only odor. essentially its like a toner but for ur body skin. it goes before lotion.

last but not least dont forget to stay hydrated and apply ur SPF and smile

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chrollogy · 4 months ago

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SUNSET DREAMS ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

kageyama tobio x afab!reader

╰┈➤ part of house of solis occasum’s summer fic exchange for @mcdonaldsnumberone !

synopsis: The tall, raven-haired surf instructor catches your attention during a private surfing lesson with your friends but due to circumstances, there was no space for small talk. Later that afternoon, you cross paths once again at a beach club—a sign from the universe to grab the opportunity, and get to know him better. This quickly leads to a turn of events where you both end up naked in bed, and eager to explore each other’s bodies but there’s just one thing though, he’s a virgin.

content warning: beach au, surf instructor!/surfer!kageyama, poor depiction of surfing, bartender!hinata cameo, alcohol use, awkward flirting, i am making kags PATHETIC, summer fling/beach romance, nsfw, smut (mdni), virgin!kageyama, bottom!kageyama, top!reader, virginity loss (m), porn without plot, handjob, cum eating, unprotected s*x, creampie, multiple orgasms (m), not beta read.

word count: 6.3k

notes: eeeeep it’s my first time writing for mr tobio but i absolutely had fun !! i hope you enjoy mac :3 divider: cafekitsune.

The scorching sun amongst the cerulean skies kissed your warm skin, the scent of salt, and sea lingered in the air as a summer breeze blew by; sounds of heavy waves from the crystalline water, and distant chatters from avid beach goers filled your senses. It was hot, and humid with no ivory clouds in sight—the perfect formula for a quick summer getaway. The beach buzzed with liveliness; colourful hues of towels, and essentials laid upon the white sand, kids with plastic buckets, and shovels eagerly building sand castles, surfers chasing the endless azure waves beneath the blazing sun.

Just the sight of swells had your heart thumping with adrenaline rush, a vivid imagery of yourself attempting to ride the waves formulated in your mind. You’ve never tried surfing before but today was the perfect time to do so—a completely out of the blue suggestion by one of your friends, not that you were complaining. It was always nice to try new things, anyway.

“How do I look? Did I put on too much sunscreen?”

A saccharine voice to your left reeled you back to reality; looking over at the owner of the voice, an emerald gaze stared right back, her eyes sparkling beneath the searing rays of the sun. Scanning your friend’s face for any white cast from the sunscreen, you shook your head, and smiled, “You look fine, Alisa.” Taking your word for it, she mirrored your smile before placing her sunnies over her eyes. You, and three friends were clad in a rental jet black skin tight wetsuit provided by the surf school, preparing for today’s private beginner lesson.

You weren’t going to lie, the thought of braving the waves made your heart pound from nervousness, and excitement but seeing as you were going to experience this foreign activity with your friends—who also haven’t tried it before—it put you at ease; you just hoped the instructor was could somewhat save you if you happen to fall off the surfboard, and onto the warm waters beneath.

Speaking of the instructor, Hitoka spoke up, a subtle devious smile on her face as she worked her hands on her flaxen strands, deftly tying it up in a low ponytail, “I bet our instructor is hot.” This earned silent chuckles from the rest of you, shaking your heads at the blonde who just shrugged in response. “Laugh at me all you want now but if I’m right, you owe me a free drink at the beach club later.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at her newfound determination, you waved a dismissive hand at your friend, mirroring her smile,

“Sure, whatever helps you—”

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone! I’ll be your surfing instructor for today.” A dulcet voice cut your sentence short, it belonged to a tall man clad in a wetsuit—he looked to be around your age. Blinking twice up at him, your eyes raked his physique up, and down before taking in his handsome beauty—cropped raven hair that framed his face, and the sharp gaze of his dark blue eyes were the cherry on top; a blend of an innocent yet sultry appeal. He emanated a subtle intimidating aura, especially paired with his looming height but his voice was as soft as the first rays of the early morning, something you could get used to hearing everyday.

You were already considering buying Hitoka that free drink because god was he fucking hot—the skin tight surf suit did not leave much to one’s imagination with the way it hugged his lean build; dips, and curves of his muscles accentuated by the waterproof fabric. It was beyond shameless to ogle your instructor because you’ve completely missed his name, instead, your eyes were focused on the way his muscular legs shifted as he leaned his weight from one bare foot to another.

Next thing you knew, his sharp gaze was on you, an expectant look on his handsome face. Snapping out of your trance, you hesitantly looked to the side—at your friends—clearly unaware of what was going on, ‘Your name. He’s asking for your name.’ Kiyoko mouthed. Letting out a sound of realisation, you smiled up at the instructor, and introduced yourself, ignoring the sudden warmth that crept up the column of your neck, and to your cheeks.

After brief introductions were out of the way, the five of you headed down to the beach—surfboards securely tucked beneath an arm—to start off today’s lesson. Hitoka fell into a step next to you, hissing at the white scorching sand beneath her bare feet, angling your face over to her, you spoke up, “Hey, what was our instructor’s name again? I didn’t catch it earlier.” She looked at you, that devious smile back in its place, brows furrowed, free hand shielding her sweaty face from the blinding sun, “Why? Too busy ogling his hotness?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell her that—god, no, she’d never live it down because she was right.

You mustered your best uninterested expression, however, the corners of your lips were itching to curl upwards at her blatant teasing, clearly hitting the nail on the head. Hitoka briefly returned the same deadpan expression, narrowing her chestnut eyes at you before letting out a sigh of defeat, “Kageyama Tobio. Full name, even.” She snickered before going on to complain about the hot sand, and the equally hot summer weather.

“Kageyama Tobio.” You muttered underneath your breath, satisfied at how it easily rolled off your tongue—little did you know, you were going to be moaning it out like a shameless common whore hours later, as though it was made for your tongue only.

As the group neared the deserted azure waters, the scent of salt grew stronger; the sound of small waves crashing on the shoreline filled your ears as you came to a halt just a few ways from the water. Kageyama started the lesson by skilfully explaining the safety guidelines, surfing etiquette, and basic techniques; you tried your best to listen in on the briefing since this was a crucial part of the lesson but his dulcet voice slowly faded along with distant noises from the background as you stared up at his face.

Your eyes gently traced over every dip, and curve of Kageyama’s features, lips parted in slight awe, completely lost in his serene beauty as the late morning sun casted a warm glow upon his skin. This has never happened before—sure, you’ve stumbled upon other jaw-dropping faces in the past that had your heart skipping a beat or two but this was different, you were shamelessly drawn to him; as though you were a moon affected by gravitational attraction, falling into an orbit around a planet named Kageyama Tobio. Though, you mostly chalked up your absentmindedness to nerves taking root deep beneath your skin, as each minute grew closer to hitting the swells of the vast ocean.

After getting thoroughly briefed through safety measures, and basic techniques—such as paddling, popping up, and maintaining balance—the next part of the lesson was getting into the water. Despite your heart pounding with nervousness, paddling wasn’t too bad, the coolness of the wavy waters calmed your nerves a tad bit—a daring contrast from the scorching sun directly above your head.

Fortunately for you, Kageyama was amazing at his job—even though the group practised on shallow waters with small waves, getting the hang of popping up, and maintaining balance on the board was tricky, and he was there to ensure an easy experience for you. The feeling of Kageyama’s firm grip around the back of your thigh had your heart hammering as he supported your weight, gently guiding you to stand up on the board,

“Good! You’re a natural. Remember to keep your knees bent—that’s it.” His praise went straight to your legs, knees slightly buckling; it absolutely caught you off guard, almost losing balance but luckily, you didn’t let up, and tried your best to navigate through the small wave.

The lesson carried on for another hour—it went smoothly despite unceremoniously falling into the water a couple of times with your friends but this earned you several words of encouragement from your instructor which definitely did not have you pressing your legs together; god, you just hoped Kageyama didn’t notice with the amount of times you’ve done it throughout the span of the lesson—you’d rather willingly drink the salty sea water instead.

It was already late afternoon, and the summer sun was beginning to set; blue skies turned into hues of cotton candy pink, and pastel orange which casted a vibrant warm glow over the beach, as though it was a scene from a movie. The group leisurely walked along the stretch of the beach, heading for the beach club mentioned earlier. The three indulged themselves in a mellow conversation, raving about their newfound surfing skills, your mind, on the other hand, wandered elsewhere.

Gaze locked on the warm sand beneath as moments from the lesson vividly replayed in your head; you could still feel the warmth of Kageyama’s palm against your clothed skin, the way his fingers ever so slightly dug into your body whenever you wobbled a little.

As if the universe somewhat knew the truth of your mind, Hitoka exclaimed, “Hey! Isn’t that our instructor from earlier?” At the mention of him, your head shot up, eyes following the direction of her pointed finger; as your gaze shifted all the way to the sparkling waters, you recognized Kageyama’s familiar physique.

There he was in his own world, propped up on his surfboard, deftly riding the afternoon waves. As expected from a pro surfer, Kageyama’s body moved with such accuracy, and intricateness as though he was the one controlling the water—clad only in black board shorts, he looked absolutely divine beneath the sunset skies, the golden glow of the sun bouncing off his bare torso.

“He was a little too intense for me, if I’m being honest.” Alisa momentarily stared at him before shifting her gaze. “Really? He seemed fine to me. Just a little stiff.” Kiyoko responded, brows subtly furrowed as though she was in deep thought; this earned a hum of agreement from Hitoka before rambling on about how intense Kageyama’s gaze was.

Hm, you must be the odd one out because in your eyes, his personality was warm, albeit, a little awkward, and blunt but despite that, it was manageable—hell, you even enjoyed his praises no matter how flat or awkward his tone was.

The conversation carried over to the beach club located along a tranquil coastline; greeted with a mix of elegance, and topical accents, you scanned the place in awe—wooden cabanas draped with ivory curtains, and outdoor sunbeds lined the white sands which overlooked the still, azure waters. Apart from the ocean itself, the pool was also an option to swim in, offering a mini bar that you had your eyes set on.

Kiyoko, and Alisa decided to explore other amenities of the club whereas Hitoka opted to lounge at a sunbed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the horizon, and as for you, your feet were already taking you to the mini bar situated by the pool. After that lengthy, exhausting lesson, all you needed right now was a little alcohol to wash down thoughts about a certain surfer that plagued your mind.

Tropical beats spilled from the speakers, creating a lively atmosphere for its patrons to enjoy; luckily, the poolside wasn’t too congested, and you were able to secure a vacant stool. Opting for the farthest corner in the outdoor bar, your eyes thoroughly scanned the miniature, azure pamphlet on the counter which contained a curated list of cocktails, and other beverages to indulge oneself in.

“If you’re having trouble choosing a drink, I highly suggest our signature cocktail ‘Sunset Dreams’! I can turn it into a mocktail if you’re not interested in alcohol.”

Looking up from the menu, and at the owner of the buoyant voice from behind the counter, you were greeted with a radiant smile that reached his eyes as though he was the epitome of sunshine; his spiky, orange hair that mirrored hues of the sky were not easy to miss, standing out against the neutral colours of his clothes—a beige linen button up shirt that had a few buttons loose, paired with ivory shorts.

The man held a metallic cocktail shaker, vigorously shaking it above his shoulder with both hands a few times before pouring its contents into a chilled highball glass, and sliding it over to a customer just a few seats down.

“So! What would it be for you?” He tapped the counter, returning in front of you before slightly leaning forward; he had an expectant look in his doe, chestnut brown eyes—a look which one, including yourself, couldn’t help but adore. You caught a glimpse of a small, golden nametag glimmering against the beige of his shirt—bold, ivory letters read ‘SHOYO’.

You contemplated his suggestion for a moment, “Okay. I think I’ll try the signature cocktail.” This earned a gleeful expression from the bartender, eagerly nodding at your choice of drink, “Good, good! You’re gonna love it! I’m Shoyo, your bartender for the night. If you need anything, just call out my name, and I’ll be there!” He pointed a finger at his name tag before working on the signature cocktail.

Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease being serviced by such a lively individual; Shoyo cheerfully greeted, and bid customers goodbye every now, and then—you subtly watched him do his job though he was part of a live entertainment.

A few minutes later, Shoyo sets a pretty, gradient cocktail before you, “One Sunset Dreams for you. Enjoy! Call me over if there’s anything you need!” Giving the bartender a warm thanks, you admired the beverage, it imitated colours of the sunset—a vibrant hue of red sitting on the base which gradually faded into a light cotton candy pink topped with two cherries on a swizzle stick, and a straw.

You didn’t hesitate to pull your phone out, and quickly snap a few photos to send to the group chat, instantly earning a thread of replies from Hitoka gushing about how amazing it looked. Before you could properly take a sip of your cocktail, Shoyo’s radiant voice filled your ears as he greeted an oncoming customer,

“Heeey, Kageyama! I haven’t seen you all week!”

At the mention of the surfer’s name, your ears unabashedly perk up. Sure, there were probably thousands—if not hundreds—of other Kageyamas out there but you only knew one person with that name, and he happened to be standing just two seats away from where you sat. His raven strands were damp, glistening beneath the golden sunset rays; he donned a plain white tee, and blue boardshorts which had no business making your heart pound like crazy.

The chances of meeting Kageyama here weren’t exactly slim given his job but you didn’t entirely expect to meet him here, let alone make friends with the beach club’s lively bartender—you didn’t make him out to be a person to regularly attend places like this.

As if he sensed your curious gaze, Kageyama looked to the side, navy blue eyes meeting your own. You waved—you fucking waved at him like he was an old friend who was here to meet with you; embarrassment gnawed at your skin, warmth creeping up from the sides neck of your neck, and onto your cheeks, resembling small, sharp kisses.

To your surprise, Kageyama dipped his chin in return before sauntering over to the vacant seat beside yours. “You two know each other?” Shoyo mused, brown eyes shifting between you, and Kageyama. The latter bluntly shook his head before pointing a thumb at you, “Had them for a beginner’s class earlier today.” You nodded at Kageyama’s reply.

“Also, just the usual mocktail for me.” The taller male added, taking a seat next to you, completely catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to actually sit next to you but hey, maybe this was the universe’s sign to get to know the man better; how? You were about to find out for yourself. Shoyo returned a bright response, saluting at his friend before getting to work.

Despite the lively atmosphere of the poolside with distant chatters, and soft beats playing on the speakers, the air between you, and Kageyama turned awkward pretty quickly. Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him, your mind screamed but all you could do at the moment was take a long sip of your cocktail—maybe getting a bit of liquid courage would help you in this dire situation, after all, as they said, a little goes a long way.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you spoke up, “So . . What made you interested in surfing?” Good. This was a good conversation starter; you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for quickly coming up with a question before the atmosphere got too silent, and uncomfortable to talk in. Kageyama met your eyes, cool gaze bringing an icy shiver down your spine; his dulcet voice engulfed your ears as he explained about his love for the sport.

Surprisingly, he had a whole lot to say about surfing—not that you were complaining, you listened to every word that slipped past his lips. You keenly watched how his relaxed expression gradually turned into something more passionate the more he talked about his job—eyes gleaming with pure enthusiasm, and the corners of his lips subtly curling upwards, it was adorable.

“Sorry. Did I bore you? I kind of went on a tangent there.” Kageyama sheepishly scratched his nape. “No, not at all! It was interesting to hear about it, really . . I think you’re really cute.”

Oh god.

Oh my fucking god. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Now would be a really good time for the ground to swallow you whole. Though, the only thing swallowing you whole was embarrassment, and to make matters worse, Kageyama wordlessly blinked at you with the most blank expression known to man—you were unsure whether it didn’t phase him at all or he just decided to ignore your blatant flirting altogether. Whatever the reason was, you were better off not knowing.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as soon as the sentence slipped out. Though, in Kageyama’s defence, he didn’t know whether you were flirting with him or plainly just complimenting him—sure, he also found you cute but would it be weird if he said it back, and you just meant yours as a compliment, nothing more?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Kageyama was overthinking this whole conversation a little too much, he needed to give a response before it becomes unbearably awkward—

“Oh—um, thanks . . I think you’re cute too.” He practically mumbled the last part of his sentence but whatever, he wasn’t going to repeat it again, not when his cheeks turned awfully warm, and his heart skipped a beat or two. Kageyama tried his best to break eye contact but god he just couldn’t; he found your eyes beautiful, the way they shone beneath the warm glow of the sunset.

Maybe you were just being extremely delusional but did you hear Kageyama’s words correctly? He thinks you’re cute as well? Nonetheless, it gave you a boost of confidence, an invitation to shoot your shot, and see wherever it takes you. The raven-haired man subtly squirmed in his seat, deep blue eyes boring into your own; a small blanket of pink coating his cheeks

Was it just him or it felt really, really hot today? Even though the sun had dipped into the horizon, Kageyama felt like he was right beneath its scorching rays—all of a sudden his body felt uncomfortably hot, he felt sharp prickles kissing down his neck, and onto his chest. Kageyama had never felt this hot, and bothered under someone’s presence before—not to mention the growing sensation deep in his core. He felt pathetic, really, being all turned on from just a little flirting; if your words affected him this much, Kageyama wondered how he’d act underneath your touch.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not the appropriate thought to think about right now.

He mentally cursed his mind for wandering to such impure thoughts rather too quickly because clearly it did nothing but further fuel the shameful feeling growing inside him—carnal desire. Oh, this was absolutely embarrassing on his end, it hasn’t even been at least ten minutes in your presence, and yet he’s getting needier by the minute.

Earlier, Kageyama was lucky enough that he was engrossed in the lesson, and therefore wasn’t too distracted by your presence—all he got was a pounding heart whenever he held your clothed body but that was just about it. Plus, Kageyama wasn’t one to muck around during his job since the safety of the class depended on him, he couldn’t afford some petty distraction, even if it meant pushing down his innocent feelings.

Though, Kageyama wondered if the feelings he had right now could be even called innocent.

As the raven-haired male squirmed in his seat once again, you caught a glimpse of the growing hardness between his thighs, the thin fabric of his shorts did so little to hide the tent at the apex of his legs—you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to squeezing your legs at the sight.

It was barely above a whisper but Kageyama heard it just fine, a faint ‘I can help you with that.’

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but truthfully, you haven’t even finished your glass of cocktail, and it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy—the next thing you knew, your thoughts swiftly flew out of your mouth before being able to stop yourself.

He gulped, nails digging into his palms at the erotic sight he just envisioned in his mind. Oh, god. Was this really happening right now? Did you just offer to help him with his growing erection? Kageyama’s throat felt dry. Where the fuck was Hinata with the drink he ordered? Why was he taking so long to make it? The whole situation felt surreal—a wet dream—too good to be true; he felt dizzy, and it didn’t stop there when he responded equally quietly.

If Kageyama was being honest, he didn’t hear his own words over the buzzing of his ear, and the thumping of his heart—all he knew was that it must’ve been a damn good response with your eyes widening, and lips curling up into a seductive smile, one that had his cock throbbing beneath his shorts.

It was all a daze from there, the rush of pure desire coursing through his veins, the spinning of his head; Kageyama vaguely remembered Hinata calling out to the both of you, assuming his mocktail was ready for him but he didn’t bat an eye, a mere beverage would simply do nothing to satiate the thirst he harboured—Kageyama needed you, only you could quench this growing ache between his legs.

Kageyama’s feet felt light against the pavement beneath, his flip flops scraping against it with every uncomfortable step taken. Hues of the fading sunset engulfed his mind, pretty pinks, and oranges slowly turned deep blue as you walked back to your accommodation—it was only a five-minute walk but god it felt like an eternity.

Your lips were on his as soon as the door to your room slammed shut, you swore the walls shook from impact but whatever, it was none of your concern. Kageyama’s lean arms caged you as your back hit the soft mattress beneath, fingers digging into the sheets at the dizzying kiss; no one has kissed him with this much drive, and passion before, the way your soft lips eagerly moved against his own, guiding him with each searing kiss.

Soft moans, and grunts slipped from Kageyama’s throat in between kisses, the sheer intensity from it was enough to make him cum untouched right then, and there; he could practically feel his body vibrating with lust—fuck, he couldn’t even think properly with the way your hands caressed his body up, and down, up, and down before sliding them under his ivory shirt, and gently clawing at his bare skin.

Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Kageyama moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails scraping his sensitive skin, trails of goosebumps forming beneath your sinful touch. And as he opened his eyes to meet your gaze, tears quickly pooled around them—from what? Kageyama didn’t know. Maybe it was from sexual frustration, maybe it was from the heavenly feeling of your nails, or maybe it was how each blissful emotion hit him like a truck, and took the air out of his lungs.

Momentarily pulling away from the kiss, Kageyama breathed out a string of incoherent words, a look of uncertainty crossing his crimson-painted face. “What—what was that?” You let out soft pants, dropping your head on the pillow beneath as you cupped his warm cheeks,

“I’m—I haven’t done this before . . I’m a virgin.”

You blinked up at him.

There was a slight pause—a heartbeat—as Kageyama’s confession lingered in the thick, warm air of the room; sweat already lined his forehead, raven strands sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry—Are you turned off?” He quickly peeled himself from your body, a rush of faint coolness momentarily engulfing you from his lack of presence. Kageyama sat on his knees, a bashful look painted on his face.

Quickly sitting up to cup his face, you shook your head, “No, no! Not at all . . Did you want us to stop? I don’t mind at all.” Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to vigorously shake his head, “No. I—I want to do it with you.” He breathed out, eyes glazed with pure lust.

You clenched your cunt at his words—just the thought of taking someone’s virginity, let alone Kageyama’s it felt like a whole lot of expectation had been placed on your shoulders but you weren’t backing down now, not at all, you were going to give him the most earth-shattering first time with how much trust he gave you.

“Take off your clothes, and lie on the bed.” As though time was of the essence, Kageyama hastily stripped his top off, shamelessly flinging it somewhere in the room. Your eyes keenly watched as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his raven shorts, slowly dragging it down the length of his long legs ‘til it pooled around his ankles.

Kageyama wordlessly looked up at you, the fabric of his underwear still on him, cock painfully straining against it with a noticeable wet spot. “All of your clothes.” You added. The male’s cheeks warmed before shyly slipping it off, hard cock bouncing against the tufts of raven hair on his stomach, it shamelessly leaked of pre-cum, beads of pearlescent liquid sat prettily on his red tip.

“Good. Now, on the bed.” An icy shiver ran up his spine at the purr of your voice, velvety, and low as you pat the empty space next to you. As Kageyama situated himself on the bed, his bare back flush against the wooden headboard, he watched as you stood at the foot of the bed, hands slowly coming up to strip yourself.

What a tease.

Kageyama watched with eager eyes as each article of clothing slipped off your skin, Adam’s apple bobbing with each noticeable gulp—fuck, you looked divine; his hands ached to pleasure himself, fuck his cock on his fist as he watched you deftly unclasp your bra. Cursing beneath his breath, his gaze traced over your naked chest, eyes circling over your pert nipples, and down the valley of it. He was practically drooling at this point, rosy lips parted in complete awe at your raw beauty.

Oh, how he wanted to touch you so bad, roam his large hands all over your body, and squeeze, and rub at parts he’s never held before. Kageyama’s mind went absolutely wild, he wondered what your moans would sound like under his touch; would you enjoy his fingers on your sensitive clit? Moan his name out into oblivion? Cum on his hand?

You crawled up the mattress, situating yourself between his parted legs, just before his hard cock. Kageyama waited for your next move with a bated breath, toned chest heaving up, and down with anticipation, his hands gripping the ivory sheets beneath.

Deep, blue eyes widened as you curled over yourself, coming face to face with his dick; oh, you just knew that length would absolutely do wonders inside you. Kageyama bit his lip, stiffening underneath your touch as you circled a hand around his cock, languidly dragging it up to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. Kageyama melted like putty at the first stroke, his head unceremoniously resting on the wall behind as pleasure consumed his body at the speed of lightning— he could already feel the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

“Ah!—Fuck. T-that feels so, so good.” Kageyama moaned to the ceiling, his voice was airy, and light, a clear sign of pure bliss completely taking over his sanity. He’s never been touched by anyone before so this was a foreign experience for him; it felt different from when he pleasured himself with his own hands—your touch drove Kageyama to madness, and he was absolutely addicted to it.

Satisfied with his reaction, you picked up the pace, and brought another hand down to gently massage his balls which earned a loud whine of your name. Oh, fuck. Kageyama was floating on cloud nine, and this was only pleasure from your hands, what more if it was your wet cunt? Would he even last sheathed deep in your velvety walls? He doubted it.

As the pace picked up, Kageyama’s moans also grew in volume, his stomach clenched, and unclenched at the sheer pleasure that consumed his whole body, all because of your hands. “Fuck! Fuck! Fu—I’m cumming!” The raven-haired male let out a wanton moan, eyes closed shut, knuckles white, and muscles taut as the knot inside his stomach finally snapped. Pure bliss rocked through Kageyama’s body like never before, as though he was engulfed in a million pleasurable kisses.

White, hot ribbons of cum shamelessly spurted from his cock which coated your fingers, and wrist. Kageyama slumped against the headboard, all fucked out, and covered by a light sheen of sweat; his lips were parted as he desperately chased oxygen,

“Want you—I need you. Please . .” Kageyama panted, his lustful gaze locked onto your own; even though he just orgasmed, his cock was still rock hard. How needy. His breath hitched at the lewd sight before him as you languidly licked a long stripe up your wrist, gathering his cum on the tip of your tongue, and eagerly swallowing his essence down. It was like Kageyama’s brain short circuited—he’s only ever seen this sight on his laptop screen during sleepless nights, never did he think he’d see his own cum licked, and swallowed from one’s hand.

Was it possible to faint from such a sinful sight?

Sitting up, you inched closer to Kageyama’s lap, thighs on either side of his slim waist, and clothed cunt hovering his cockhead. With keen eyes, the raven-haired watched as you deftly pushed your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your glistening cunt. He licked his lips as though he was a predator silently stalking his prey, waiting to pounce. Kageyama wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue, your sweet slick smeared all over his mouth, and chin—he could only fantasise.

The violent thrumming of his heart filled his ears as he watched you shift your weight over his lap; this was really happening—Kageyama was about to lose his virginity. He felt a rush of every single emotion from A to Z, all things good but mixed with a bit of nervousness; what if he couldn’t satisfy you enough? What if he accidentally cummed way too soon? What if—

“Ohhhhh—fuck! Ngh—ah!” Kageyama violently threw his head back against the wall, fists gripping the sheets below as you slowly inched down his red tip. Oh god. Oh god. You hugged him so, so tightly, your cunt felt hot, and wet around him but in a good kind of way; he let out short breaths, his chest quickly heaving up, and down as he tried his best to ground himself. It was like his sanity snapped in a split second as soon as you made raw contact with his dick—this feeling was beyond cloud nine, as though he was one with the cosmos.

You bit your lip at his pornographic sounds, letting out low whimpers as Kageyama’s cock desperately twitched inside you. With your hands gripping his bare shoulders, you slowly inched down his cock, grounding yourself as the head kissed intimate parts of you that no one has ever reached. A unison of heavy pants filled the thick air after bottoming out; you momentarily stilled, giving yourself ample time to get used to Kageyama’s length because fuck it drove you absolutely insane.

“P-please move. Need more, please . .” He whined, desperately moving his hips beneath your weight, causing his tip to momentarily brush against your g-spot ever so slightly. Moaning at the contact, a string of colourful curses slipped past your lips, toes curling at the sudden wave of pleasure.

Without wasting any more time, you lifted your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down, earning muttered curses of your name from Kageyama. His hands immediately flew to your hips as a way to ground himself, as though holding onto anything else would immediately deprive him of this heavenly bliss.

Soft, wet squelches bounced off the walls with every languid roll of your hips, Kageyama couldn’t peel his eyes away from where to two of you connected—it was wet, and slippery, glistening from all your arousal; everything felt so sinful that it made his head spin, not the mention the bounce of your breasts with each movement of your hips. Every moan that slipped past your lips went straight to Kageyama’s cock, he was the one making you moan this loud, not to mention the look on your face—hooded eyes, and lips parted to chant his name every now, and then; pride blossomed in his chest.

Shared pleasure ate away at your bodies like a rabid animal, gnawing at your skin with nothing to stop it ‘til it reached your bones—it was immense, a toe-curling sensation with every relentless bounce of your hips; the way Kageyama’s cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot, the way your velvety walls sinfully wrapped around him like it was meant to be. Your thighs burned with exhaustion, a mix of pain, and pleasure completely taking over your body but you didn’t stop—you didn’t want to, not when Kageyama felt this amazing inside you.

You could tell the raven-haired was getting more, and more greedy for pleasure from how his nails painfully dug into your sweaty skin, the subtle upward thrust of his hips to meet your own, taking him even deeper into your wet heat. Heavy balls slapping onto your ass fuelled your desire further, the slight burn of it had you clenching around him.

“Ah!—Kageyama! Ohhhh fuck! You’re so deep . .” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, voice as sweet as honey. Kageyama wondered if he could be a little more greedy, “Tobio—ngh! Call me Tobio.” He panted. It took all of his sanity to string the short sentence together, Kageyama couldn’t even hear himself over the loud skin slapping mixed with your endless whines.

Vigorously nodding, you moaned his name, “Tobio! Mhm—You gonna cum for me? Yeah?” It was Kageyama’s turn to nod at your gasped words, eyes momentarily screwing shut at its effect on him.

He wasn’t going to last any longer after just cumming his brains out from your hands a few minutes ago. “Oh, god!—Can I cum inside you? Please? Fuck, I want to stuff you full of my cum—ngh!” Words spilled from Kageyama’s mouth, blabbering out any coherent thought that came to mind. Truthfully, he’s always fantasised cumming inside someone, the feeling of emptying his balls, and shooting his thick load while sheathed deep inside was probably his biggest dirty secret—and he just shamelessly bared it to you.

“Yes—ah! Stuff me full of your cum, Tobio! Want your cum deep inside me, please.”

The desperation in your voice was all it took for Kageyama to snap, his fingers clawed at your hips as he painted your walls white, body stiffening under the immense pressure of pleasure. It didn’t help how your cunt gripped him like a vice, pulling him further, and further down the rabbit hole called bliss. You came with a loud moan of his name, curling over yourself, sweaty forehead resting on Kageyama’s bare chest as you desperately rode out your orgasms.

Both of you stayed still for a moment to catch your breaths, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of warmth slowly engulfed your bodies as the high wore off. Kageyama didn’t even do much but he was absolutely spent, and drenched in sweat, he could only imagine your state, especially your thighs from all that bouncing.

“A-are you okay? That was—that was amazing . .” Dulcet voice sliced through the thick air, it earned a chuckle from you, you could only return a weak nod at his concern, your body too heavy to even move an inch. Kageyama’s soft breathing slowly pulled your to the borders of sleep but the summer heat against your skin was unbearable,

You mustered every strength to peel yourself off of him, “Shower with me?” Your lips wickedly curled upwards, hands gently caressing Kageyama’s bare chest. What a temptress.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel tired anymore. —

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