#water proof sunscreen

[reverecurrent]

got my septum pierced today!!!

[fishiest-fish]

having not been sunburned in years I have completely forgotten just how bad it is

[dabisbratz]

𝒮𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒯 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒯𝐻 — shouta aizawa x male reader

w.c: 12.4k

warning: dbf!shouta, age gap, (sho in his early 40s, reader is 23), bottom!reader, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, feminization, mentions of gettin ‘knocked up’ regardless of anatomy, sneaking around, creampie, unprotected sex ( wear condoms ! ), praise/degradation, brat!reader, jealousy, mutual teasing, reader has an oral fixation, improper use of lollipops, mentions of exhibitionism, blowjobs, cumming untouched/hands free orgasm, ‘ taboo ’

sonny says..: not proof read, msorry !! did lotsa jumpin around while writin this. . . n five months later !! she’s all done !! ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝T ˘ T⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ ♡ m’a lil rusty, forgive me !!

You’re back home for the summer.

Well— not entirely. You’re back at your family’s summer house for the season. Gifted from your grandparents, it teeters at the beginning of a beach, crystal sands and clear, blue waters that stretch out into the horizon. You’ve been looking forward to it since you’d graduated, even if it did come with a set of overbearing parents and a sinful amount of sunscreen.

The air is hot and thick, sticking uncomfortably to your skin through the windshield as you watch an everlasting stretch of greenery and trees pass you by. The road has stretched on for miles, every upcoming exit and street sign blending into one as each hour passes by. You’ve got the company of staticky radio stations and news outlets, spewing something nonsensical about sports, politics, car insurance. . . But it’s the trip you enjoy more than the destination. Traffic and all, you prefer it over the muggy air and parental scolding. Though, the beach is nice. . .

“You’re sure you’re taking the right route?” It’s your mother speaking, her voice crackling through the speakers of your car. You’re sure she’d smack you upside the head for the aggressive roll of your eyes in her. . . general direction, but she’s not exactly within eye-contact distance. Not for another five minutes, anyway.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” You have— it’s true. Though you’re only twenty-two, you’d driven this distance since you’d left for college. There’s a sound akin to the sucking of teeth through the radio, and you have half the mind to turn around and restart your road-trip all over again.

“Why’s there so much attitude in your voice?” Her cheerful, smiley voice suddenly sounds much more shrill, to your chagrin. You thrum your fingers along the leather of the steering wheel, biting back a long, drawn out groan.

“There isn’t any,” Gravel crackles under the weight of your rubber-tire car, snapping and popping into the air as it makes a smooth halt into the driveway. Shifting gears to park, the radio switches off with the twist of your keys. And, perhaps with more force than necessary, you’re slamming the door to your car and face to face with your mother. Her phone is still in hand, eyebrows pinched at the thought of her very own son hanging up on her. “. . . attitude, Ma.”

She hugs you with a squeal, ushering you up the stairs to your childhood ‘home.’ It’s almost exactly like you’d left it— save for a few recent porch decorations and repainted walls. You hope the years have been kind to it, with the irregular weather and constant pipe problems. Floorboards creak under your weight, welcoming you home after a few long years of studies. There’s an everlasting stream of bubbly speech behind you, your mom speaking, but there’s already so much to take in.

The air is fresh and salty, hints of beachy winds flowing upstream through the doorway. It smells like home, and looks like it too, as you situate your small duffel bag by the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Your room. You hadn’t packed much— there was still a dresser overflowing with old clothes in your bedroom, after all. And now that you think about it, you should probably change into something more fitting for the weather.

“I know you just got here,” The sound of ice swirling against glass catches your attention, and you turn to face your mother. “But could you bring these out to your father?” She’s holding a tray of decorative glasses— or at least, you’d always thought they were— full of oblong ice and freshly squeezed lemonade. The glasses are stocky enough to adorn lollipops— one each, which are probably sickeningly sour. Topped with tiny, colorful umbrellas and intricate swirling straws. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone, with the way she’s put so much effort into the drink’s presentation.

Your lips curl to form a playful ‘no’, a boyish smile pulling at your cheeks when she huffs— as if she already knows what you’re about to do. So you shake your head instead, stealing the tray with one hand, “Let me change first.”

In hindsight, wearing clothes about. . four years too small wasn’t a great idea. The shorts that once fit you perfectly— before your growth spurt— are now much too short, like they’ve been tossed around in the laundry one too many times. You feel almost naked, moving the pink hem down with the shake of your legs.

Your mother insists they look just fine, a dramatic downturn to her lips as she rambles on and on about how fast her boy has grown up. Still, as you walk through the sliding glass doors parallel to the open patio, the sunlight bathing your legs does nothing but make you feel stuck under a rapidly growing spotlight.

It all clicks as you walk outside— the detailed drinks, the smell of barbecue and fresh coal. There is someone she’s trying to impress, someone other than your father. Maybe both of them. On a good day.

Wiping the bead of sweat from your brow, your eyes squint at the man in front of you. Around your dad’s age— maybe slightly younger, he stands at a whopping six foot something. There’s age in his face, and worry between his brows as if he’d spent most of his youth grimacing. His hair is long and black like charcoal, save for a few streaks of gray and a salt and pepper ensemble of stubble littering his chin and jaw. Two scars— forming a cross of sorts, one beneath his right eye, horizontal and thin. But the other is much longer, starting below his brow and ending at his cheekbone. It draws your eyes to a milky gray iris— heavily contrasting against the natural black-brown of his left one. It’s pretty, cloudy and almost pearlescent.

His silhouette— tall and thick, with broad shoulders that travel on and on as he crosses thick biceps over his thick chest. He’s standing in the way of the sun, and yet, it peeks through his long hair in small, short leaks. And, surprisingly, his waist is small in his black tank top. If you feel hot he must be scorching, draped in black— down to the beaded bracelet adorning his wrist. His hands— they’re big, maybe enough to cover the entirety of your face, curled into loose fists at his biceps.

And— right, you’re here to help, not gawk. But you can’t help it, shifting your weight from one leg to another as his intimidating gaze slowly sweeps you over. He’s like sex on legs, and if you can squint enough to get the sun out your eyes, you swear you can see the imprint of his cock through his black shorts.

“Uh,” You blink dumbly after introducing yourself, and suddenly the tray you’re holding is weightless. “Ma made these. I’m supposed to help. . . or something. . .”

“Or something.” The man echoes, but it’s quiet and you barely catch it. His voice is deep, way deeper than your own, rumbling in your ears and smooth like butter. Almost husky, with a dark edge to it as flames roar in his face. But it makes your father laugh, hearty and jubilant as he bounces over to where you stand. He gives you a small pat on the back as a greeting, ushering out a small, “son.”

The heat emitting off the grill is enough to make a grown man cry, but neither of you wince when you walk by it. Cold glasses of lemonade are handed out, fingers imprinted on cold condensation painting the surfaces of each glass as they’re passed around— one for you, one for your dad, another for him. You watch rivulets of water drip from his fingertips, down his wrist, past the collection of veins adorning his forearm.

“Mr. Aizawa,” There’s a beat of silence, but it’s quickly filled once you’ve been introduced. “World’s cruelest teacher.”

“Shouta Aizawa.” Is all he says, a correction of sorts, voice grumbly as his fingertips brush against your knuckles. Your eyes flicker down to where he’d touched you, his skin warm and inviting despite the roughness of his palms. You see now, that he’s accompanying your father, occasionally taking over when he walks back into the house every. . . five minutes or so.

“An old friend of mine, we go way back.” Your parents have an odd habit of rambling, it seems, because you and the handsome stranger make exasperated eye contact as your dad begins to reminisce on old memories. “You met him a few times— remember? He’ll be staying with us, so be respectful, you hear me?” His gaze seems to dip for a moment, down your lips and straight to the extra exposed skin of your thighs, then settle back to the ocean before you can comment.

But those five minutes must start now, because after a firm squeeze to your shoulder your father heads inside, leaving you alone with his. . . friend. He’s awfully quiet, busying himself as the patio door slides shut— occasionally sighing as he wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s obvious you’re staring, maybe a bit too hard, but he’s the best scene around, really. Even with the beach right behind him.

And maybe it’s wrong to think this way— but he’s hot. Old enough to be your dad and then some, sure, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He almost makes you nervous, the slow blink of his eyes as he pays you no mind.

“So you’re staying with us, huh?” You eye the juicy meat he’s been flipping for the last five minutes, golden brown and sizzling in the heat. It’s rather thick, soon to be lazily flattened by the tongs he's holding and— you can’t help but wonder. . . Is he good with his hands?

“Don’t make a habit of asking strange old men questions like that.” It’s not entirely clear if he’s serious or not, but he’s certainly assertive. Like a firm, guiding hand placed at the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, but before you can ask what he means, it clicks. You’d said it out loud, let it float into the air like an everyday, casual question. But Aizawa doesn’t seem exactly bothered, more passive (if anything), as he takes a swig of the fruity, sour concoction.

“You’re not strange.” Is what you conclude, slamming the tray down hard enough to rattle its contents, and the man notes your lack of regard. Even with a slight spill you don’t bother to clean, you’re already turning to walk off the patio and dig your toes into the hot sand before it can be mentioned— but not without plucking a lemon coated lollipop free from its icy enclosure of glass. There’s an arrangement of seashells hidden beneath the coarse mounds of the glimmering seaside. Different sizes and colors, different textures and shapes. Where some would scrape the soles of your feet, others would glide across them. But as a kid you’d liked the search for tiny crabs much more than the search for shells. Though you’re much older now, you’re not afraid to say you miss it.

“But I’m old?” Aizawa says, not too far behind you from where he stands. There’s a light glint of dry humor in his voice that sends butterflies down your throat and straight into your stomach.

“Yeah. Old enough.” Your small laughter is sweet, dancing in the air in a way that has Shouta nearly pressing his palm flat into the skillet— just to check if his heart is still beating. What do you mean by that, anyway?

There’s a divot where the tightness of your shorts dip into your skin, pressing against the plush skin of your ass whenever you bend over. Even as you’re upright, Shouta can’t stand to look for too long— you’re a real, proper, honest and genuine distraction. Yet here he is, watching you move around on your hands and knees, ass taut and round— shorts tight enough to show off the cute bulge of your balls from behind. And now that he’s really looking, it’s obvious you’re not wearing anything underneath.

He shakes his head, grunting to himself as he peels processed cheese free from its plastic packaging. You just met, that’s not right, you’re simply just minding your own.

“Ugh!” You share a groan, and for completely different reasons. Aizawa can’t help but watch you scramble in the sand, presumably after whatever sea-creature that had the pleasure to pinch you right on the finger. But you seem happy once it’s retrieved, stuck in the seclusion of its tiny shell as you hold it in your palm. From what he can see, you’re not much of a brat at all. Maybe your parents are just too hard on you. He’s always known them to be dramatics.

Still, he has half the mind to drag you over by your ankle, or maybe to press your handsome face into the sand while he fucks you from behind. Ever since you’d brought out that damned lemonade— tugging on the hem of the fabric as if you’d suddenly grown conscious of just how short they were— he’d been hard. And now he has to listen to you grunt and groan over the smallest of injuries. . . His best friend’s son, his presumed pride and joy.

He’s fucked.

From where he stands, slightly elevated, he can see the bulge of the sweet protruding from your cheeks, stuck afore your teeth. Cute, as it swishes from side to side, stuck in your mouth as your occupied fingers caress the diaphanous shell in the palm of your hand. Your lips move, puckered, around the sucker, curled and glossy with molten sugar— it’s hard to make out exactly what words your mouth forms, yet Shouta doesn’t think he’d be able to listen anyway.

Turns out the creature was a hermit crab.

Shouta learns this at dinner, the day’s hard work shared on plastic platters and glass

bottles in the middle of the beach. There’s a roaring flame between the four of you, it casts golden embers along your skin every so often, crackling into the air. Cicadas chirp with the night’s welcome, loud and joyful in retaliation to the silent, serene fireflies and settling ocean.

You’re all sipping on beers, some more than others, but it’s enough to loosen everyone up. Even Shouta, whose eyes look lidded with sleep the more he drinks. He’s not incoherent, he never is. If anything he’s observant. For one, you have an awful habit of holding onto this evening’s lollipop, it seems, as you have it situated between your fingers like a cigarette. Sometimes your grip around it tightens, like when your mother wraps her hand around his bicep, squeezing the flesh in small, sporadic rounds. And though neither of you want to say it, let alone think it— you’re jealous. That’s the second thing.

Even with Shouta’s knee brushing against your own, you can’t help it. He’s so warm, muscly legs pressed against your own in a manner that’s almost electrifying. You want it all to yourself, to suffocate in his heat and capable hands.

You zone out of the conversation, blinking at the fire with reserved eyes until a thick screwer pokes at the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind a tiny dimple. Jet black hair invades your vision for a moment, smelling of faint seasalt and warm cologne, until you turn, “What?”

“You want chocolate on your marshmallow, right?” Your mother asks for him, squeezing a transparent bag of thick, soft marshmallows. It’s tossed to you in a flash, to which you catch, but not before stealing a glance at the man beside you. His jaw sets, poking out from the mass of stubble. Like she’d stolen a precious moment away.

“Right,” You mumble, stabbing the skewer through the excessive amount of sugar. The stick hovers above the fire, the sweet melting to a crisp, flaky brown. Sticky and gooey, it slowly begins to lose its form. Through all the conversation you can’t help but glance at the older man to your left, taking in the glow of yellow and orange caressing his tan skin. His silhouette is bold and broad, legs spread wide as he sits on a thick log. What was once brown turns a deep, dark charcoal. “Oh, shit! Fuck. I meant shoot, sorry.”

You’re not supposed to swear in front of your parents— Aizawa’s paternal intuition picks that up. But shoving the marshmallow into your mouth, even as it has yet to cool down, he doesn’t quite get. Either way, your expression. . . it’s sickeningly cute. It’s cute to watch you fumble. With lips pursed into a tight line, cheeks bitten and eyebrows pinched with apology despite how obviously uncomfortable you are with the piping, burnt sugar spreading along your tongue.

His heart could almost burst.

“You’re fine, kid.” Shouta’s voice is a gentle whisper, airy like the waves brushing against the shore. With his eyes caught on the sticky white lingering on your cheek, he's desperately aware you’re not a kid. The way you move and speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you suck on lollipops like they’re something else. He’s never been one for dirty jokes or subtle innuendos but. . . yeah, this is doing something to him. His fingers twitch with want, the desire to wipe it away and rub his thumb along your lips. He should really get it together.

And maybe the fact that he’s more worried about your parents being in the way than the fact that they’re your parents proves that.

But they’re pretty preoccupied, lost in conversation neither of you are exactly interested in. Whirling his own marshmallow, chocolate melts down its fluffy outside. It’s steaming, hot and fluffy after twirling around the fire. Looking at it now, it looks comically small in his large hands, much bigger than your own. His lips part, cool air leaving the ‘o’ shaped mold of his mouth as he blows on it with a low, “Here.”

There they go again, mouth open as your pink tongue covers your row of bottom teeth, Shouta doesn’t let go of the skewer despite the light squeezes you press along his knuckles. Instead he holds on tighter, lifting and reaching until the desert melts in your mouth and sticks to your lips. Messy on purpose, your heart plummets into your tummy when dark eyes watch marshmallow fluff pull away from between your teeth. Hungry, starving.

“I can do it myself.” You mumble, wondering if the heat prickling your skin is from the brush of his fingers against your own or the wilting fire.

“Can you?” His expression is tired and flat, but his voice tilts with blooming amusement. It’s odd, the way you’re so quick to shut him down. You almost respond more openly when you hear sneaky comments or listen to gossip— ‘that boy just doesn’t know what to stop,’ ‘why’s he such a smartass?’ — spoken about you directly by you.

“Yeah,” There’s a shine in your eye that isn’t just a product of the glowing fire. Mischievous, almost. “I don’t break that easily.”

Shouta could definitely take your dad in a fight. It’s the first thing that pops into mind as the two of you stand in the dark, dimly lit kitchen. Your parents had gone off to bed almost an hour ago, and with the clock approaching half past midnight, it leaves you two alone. So, yes, he’s considering who would win in a brawl because he can’t stop staring at his best friend’s son and his pretty, kissable lips.

They’re sheen with spit, your pink tongue licking them over as you scrub away yesterday’s dirt from the kitchen counter. It’s a noncommittal motion, your arms wiping suds and heavy contents of water along the granite surface. Yet you seem absolutely dead-set on getting that one stain. The stain that has your ass brushing against his side, bare skin rippling the harder, lazier, you scrub. Not that there’s even a stain to clean.

Yep. He’s fucked.

You suppose he should be focusing on the dishes— not that there’s much of those either— but his attention strays.

It carries him through the motion of leaning over, his body practically draping your own as you bend at the waist. Black hair again, wisps of it, lightly pressed against your back as he leans down, lips by the shell of your ear and an arm trapping you in. His cock is pressed right against the swell of your ass, and he may have to consider slipping it between his waistband.

“I think you got it.”

“Oh, really?” Your hips are moving again, side to side as you scrub shapes into nothing. “Double check for me?”

A low groan sounds behind you, big hands at your thighs that squeeze enough to have the plush skin bruised and tender in the morning. His hand travels, snaking up your thighs to meet the silky skin of your ass. Spread nicely with the way you’re bent over, warmth radiating off each globe as his thick pointer finger loops around the thin layer of pink cotton pressing against your balls.

It’d be so easy, perfect access to slip his thick cock into the warm, tight walls of your hole and pound you against the counter. You could sit on his dick for the whole day, drooling and dumb the more the head kisses your prostate again and again and again. Your Daddy could fuck you on your dad’s favorite sofa, make it squeal and whine under the weight of him filling your fucked-out and used cunt over and over.

Dark pupils blow wide as he pulls the fabric away, watching your hole flutter around nothing. He coos, sweet and deep. Just give him a minute, he’ll give you everything you need. Everything and more, until you’re a braindead fucktoy with glassy eyes and sticky, dripping holes. Until—

You’ve slipped past his arm, twisting as your growling stomach makes itself known. You inhale a quivering breath through your nose, eyes wide and expecting and waiting. His best friend’s son, wriggling and writhing under his palms, handsome face twisting as pearly teeth bite at your stout bottom lip.

He’s almost frustrated with himself, voice flat and distant when you puff out your cheeks. Forget a distraction— you’re a real, honest brat. “You’re still hungry.”

“I’m a growing man, Sho.” It’s almost consequential how your voice cracks, breathy and teetering the edge of a whine as he releases his grip on your body. Light from the fridge illuminates your silhouette in a yellow, halo-adjacent glow, and once again Shouta is staring a little too hard at his best friend’s son as he bends forward at the waist.

Aizawa weighs the juxtaposition between the middle of that sentence for a moment before his breath catches in your throat. Sho. You’d called him by a nickname, ten times sweeter than the candied fruit (grapes, are they?) you’re now sinking your teeth into. You’ve grown alright, and the proof stands hard, throbbing, and pressing against your shorts once you’ve returned to face him. It’s obvious your ploy with the fruit was just something to keep your mind off cumming in your cute, soft shorts— but he’d honestly have preferred to see that.

“I can see that.”

Rough palms press into your jaw— firm, but not aggressive, until fingers close and clasp at your cheeks. A dissolving layer of baby fat at your cheeks spills between his stern fingers, and you blink as the older man turns your face from left to right, then reverse. Seems he’s got a nasty habit of looking you over, breaking you down— bare bones. You still have enough room to chew, teeth grinding on the crystallized sugar with a hard and resounding crunch.

There’s always something in your mouth.

Dark eyes flicker to the lump appearing and disappearing in your throat as you swallow, sweet sugar dotting your lips, “You’re hard.”

“Yeah,” It earns a dark chuckle, though there’s not much light humor in it, “So are you.” His lips curl as he releases his grip, slow and lingering.

“Usually,” your gaze drops to his lips. “When two men,” Then up to his deep, dark eyes as you press against him, chest to chest. His cock twitches against the heat of your body, you can imagine it now— thick and pretty, curved upward with a sticky head and throbbing, heavy veins. “Make eachother. . . hard, they—”

A door slams upstairs, the air going still as your breath catches in your throat. As if that single disturbance has stolen all the oxygen in the world, your body goes rigid and stiff, and the sound of tired steps make their way descending down wooden stairs. The candied grapes are swapped for thick fingers, with light peppers of hair at the knuckles, and you can’t help but suck the seasalt right off.

“Behave.” He takes a single step back, dripping with indubitable authority that makes you feel light and airy. Ready to bend at his will with lazy eyelids and hazy eyes. It’s not a question, not a suggestion— it’s a demand.

“You’re still up,” Your father, shameless as he walks by the two of you with barely any coverings, makes a sleepy gesture in your general direction as he opens the fridge. “Both of you, huh?” He sounds faintly out of breath, and his skin sheen. The mental implications make you cringe, taking a step toward the characteristically nonchalant man who’d just stepped away from you.

Shouta’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t tell me I’m being replaced!” He’s always been a loud man, your father, but it seems tonight his one-too-many beers have finally caught up to him. It’s just a joke, the both of you know it, but you can’t help the prickle of heat poking at your throat. You’re pulled in by the back of your head, your father’s hand pressed against your hair as he holds you in a firm side-hug, “Rather Mr. Aizawa be your old man?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Your smile is wide and tantalizing, heavy and dripping with something that has yet to be named. “Are you a good Daddy, Mr. Aizawa?”

Then, his eye twitches, “When I want to be.”

Your laugh is instantaneous and loud, an awkward thing that stretches into deep silence. There’s a lot of things you’d like Mr. Aizawa to be— rough, gentle, sweet, and mean. But your dad? It’s laughable, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. And sure, maybe the title you'd like to use on him sounds similar, but they’re most definitely not the same. If only he knew.

“I’m sure you’re the best,” He watches you smile, opposite ends of your mouth pulling at your cheeks in a motion that doesn’t quite meet your eyes— but it’s convincing enough. “Better than your other friends, right Dad?”

Shouta is avoiding you.

You know it, you can tell! He’s always gone nowadays— a couple weeks into your vacation and you can only count a mere handful of the times you remember seeing him. You’ve barely talked, barely stole a few glances here and there— he may as well have disappeared. He’s out somewhere, somewhere that involves your father, and the ocean, and his generously sized deck-boat. You don’t want to say it, but you know you’re the reason why. You’ve gone a bit overboard, perhaps, with the flirting. Ever since that night— even before then, it’d become a natural habit of yours to call the man Daddy.

And, now, he’s grown even closer to your parents because of it. Whenever you come down for breakfast they’ve already finished, leaving your plate in the microwave— as if you’d want cold, limp eggs and soggy, get charred bacon. You want to scream, really. There’s your mother, who leaves lingering touches and bats her eyelashes like some sort of schoolgirl. You feel almost evil for the rage that sears your blood— even more so when your first thought is she’s pushing fifty.

Then there’s your father. Who is and always will be, not if you can help it, closer to Shouta than you ever will be. They drink together a lot, the guest more in moderation, but it still hurts to see them laugh about old times— over, and over, and over again. Even when you’re the topic of conversation, despite your presence being completely ignored, it hurts. You’re right here.

So you mope, lounging around in your swim trunks. Your skin sticks to every surface, humid and thick as your mother complains to you about getting some sun, stepping out the house, then something about how you need to fix the look on your face. She says the warm rays on your skin will do you some good, the salty water of the sea against your body will toughen up your bones and loosen your muscles. But there’s really only one thing on your mind.

It trickles into about an hour and a half when Mr. Aizawa finally comes back. Your father too, you suppose, with flushed cheeks that only sake can replicate. It’s once you’ve been pulled outside and forced to stand in wet, thick sand that washes away from your feet with every sweep of the shore— that they return. Once the sun has begun to set, yet still bright enough to have your brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, they return.

“There’s my boy!” No one’s boy, actually. Your father shouts with an intoxicated wave, and the grimace on Shouta’s face is hidden behind his whipping hair as he slows the boat to a stop.

Or at least, you think so. It’s hard to see with the sun in your eyes, yellow and orange flakes of the gold star percolating your vision.

It dances along the surface of the ocean, pretty and shimmering the closer you step, the further you go, until you’re submerged in water from your knees—down. There’s a shout, something akin to a ‘catch!’, and you have barely any time to react to the ball that’s flying to you with an oddly precise amount of speed and velocity. You gasp, whipping your head back to catch the ball between two sea-soaked hands.

“What the hell?!” Your hands sting, pretty eyes blinking back at the two silhouettes in your vicinity. Mainly at Aizawa, who hasn’t even acknowledged you, let alone looked away from the resplendent horizon. And what’s so good about that? Of all things to look at— you’re right here! You don’t leave with the setting sun, nor do you only ever arrive with the rising one. You’re a constant, and you know you don’t hurt to look at.

So you throw the ball back, all your force behind it with a smug look on your face until it smacks Shouta in the leg— right in the center of his calf with a horrifying thump of a sound.

“Fuck,” You shout in horror, despite it all. Despite the desire to maul him the last few weeks, rushing forward into the water with the cutest tremor to your brows. “Fuck, okay, shit, my bad!”

And it seems you can’t move fast enough to wade through the rippling waves, where schools of tiny, nipping fish and textured shells had twirled and danced about through the currents of pellucid water. But Shouta seems just fine, almost as if he’d forgotten how to react to the feeling of getting punted with a ball at full force. He picks it up, waves it in his large palm, and throws it back. You can hear it tear through the air, just as it smacks you in the shoulder with so much force you don’t register it at first.

Numbness spreads along your arm, eyes blinking up at the older man who laughs. It’s quiet yet hearty, and not at all a pretty sound. It’s more contagious if anything, a wheeze of sorts, but your lips still curl into a petty frown regardless. You can make out a huff of “Your face!” broken up with laughter, biting back on his tongue.

“I’m not laughing.” You grumble, rubbing at your shoulder with faux diligence.

There’s an eerie smile on his face, enough to send shivers down your spine as water drapes your face and drips down your body— boat engine revving with ferocity as the men float off into the boarding dock— Aizawa’s presence arrives just as fast as it leaves.

You’re left to your devices, gawking as you process the last few minutes— his smile, your brattiness and stupidity, the way you’d only just noticed his prosthetic leg— at the mention you can feel miscellaneous fish brush against your own, scales shining through the transparent waters. You can’t help but smile too, wiping it away with the back of your water-draped forearm. Fuck.

It’s only been a month and you’re smitten. He’d left you in favor of your father again, and all you can do is giggle about it.

There’s not much you know about the man— now that you think about it. There’s been a brief drunken mention of him having kids of his own, a little girl, you think. Maybe a son? Despite his affliction for quiet, Aizawa looks as though there’s more he wants to say. To share, to tell. Your father must know it all, seeing as they grew up together, and part of you can’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Hmph.

“What’re you sulking for?” His voice has broken you out of a daydream, turning your body to look him in the eyes. The man of the hour— Shouta. You almost hate how quick you are to melt under his gaze, squaring your shoulders with the stability of poorly glued popsicle sticks.“That ball bounce off your head, too?”

“I’m not sulking.” You watch him walk around the perimeter of the shore, slow and calculating, with his hands balled up in the fabric of his black t-shirt. He pulls it overhead, tummy contracting and biceps rippling— it still manages to catch you by surprise, how much muscle he’s hiding under his baggy clothes. Your brain sets off a symphony of ooh’s and ahh’s, unable to tear your gaze from the light rise and fall of his chest.

Your eyes trail back up, past the bend of his collarbones, up the display of stubble on his throat— he’s staring right at you.

“Uh — I wasn’t. . anyway. . What’re you looking at?”

His lips twitch, briefly pressed together before relaxing as he steps into the cold water. He’s slow, hair rippling just as smooth as the ocean, the further he moves forward. And, despite that, he slowly curls a finger to and fro, as if he’s talking to a small kitten. “C’mere.”

You’re frowning when you trudge forward, hesitance in your step. “Mr. Aizawa,” you grumble, still something of a cute little sound, using the prefix your father introduced him with. Something about it makes Shouta’s frame stiffen— the title, or maybe the pettiness behind it. It’s not like you call him that when you’re in a particularly good mood. “You didn’t seem to want me around earlier.”

“Quiet,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as if he knows the game you’re playing. But despite the curt, clean-cut execution of his tone, his thumb finds your cheek with the same gentleness as a spring breeze. “Your parents were always around earlier.”

Oh.

You play off your surprise well enough, swatting his hand away with a deep grunt. Sure, it feels good. His hands on your skin— such rough palms that cover your body — but you’re not desperate. Not entirely, not even when he fixes the twist of your face with a quick look to your furrowed brows. You settle for a sigh, grumbling, “They don’t have shit to do with me.”

“You’re, what, twenty-five—“

“Twenty three.” You interject, almost proud you can correct him. Rivulets of water trail down your arms, and his gaze seems to follow its motion.

“Twenty three,” He echoes with something of a breathless sigh tilting his voice. For a moment you think it’s the interruption— he’ll work on it later. Maybe he’s been struck by just how much younger you really are. “They have everything to do with you. You’re still their kid, I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about leaving you alone with an older man. A stranger, at that.”

“But they did,” You look around, as if to prove your point. Shouta’s never been one for dramatics, let alone those fueled by snappy attitudes and rolling eyes, but it looks cute on you. Maybe even cuter if it were accompanied by tears. “They left us alone. . . Half naked. . . At a beach. . . Alone..”

“I get it. We’re alone,” Shouta’s voice has always been so deep, rumbly and tired and smooth in your ears but even more so when he’s irritated. “Drop the attitude.” It’s different in a way. Leaves no room for argument, though you still feel the overwhelming need to stomp your foot and keep on pressing. You can’t help the shudder, nor the goosebumps crawling up your thighs. It’s just so fun to push his buttons, to watch his passive face twist for a split second as he processes your words.

It’s not exactly hard when he allows it. Shouta lets you push until your heart’s content, only reprimanding you with a glance or cleared throat— and it’s almost eerie. You can’t help but feel

like you should be anticipating something, even as you stand flush against his thick body in lukewarm ocean water and he looks at you with contentment.

Then it occurs to you. . . He’s letting it build up.

“And you’re not a stranger, Mr. Aizawa.” Obviously you’re softening the blows, so he watches you step forward, arms crossed over his thick, plush chest. You’re just so cute, brushing past his overwhelming seriousness with a smile— albeit sly. He can’t stay mad forever. It’s not fair, how cute you are, with lips stretched out and teeth on display, with the apples of your cheeks rising, and the cutest little twinkle in your eye. He wants to kiss you. . . He wants to kiss you so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Especially when you lean forward, sunlight bouncing off the ocean surface and across your body— painting you in pretty, golden slivers of glow. Across your face, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. It’s been a while since he’s felt his skin against your own. Since he’s run his large, calloused hands along your body.

“What happened to ‘Daddy’?” He asks, absentmindedly.

“What?” You break his trance, looking down at yourself with a hint of something Shouta can’t quite place. Uncertainty, perhaps? Vulnerability, maybe. It’s odd, you usually prance around so confidently. You wear the tiniest— tightest— clothes known to man, have the smartest mouth, egg him on day in and day out.

That’s not it. You look smug. You’re playing him for a damn fool.

“Nothing.” Aizawa sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s wrong— it’s cliché, maybe even taboo. He wants to wipe that look off your face. He wants to kiss his best friend’s son stupid. The man he’d just shared parenting advice to, the man he’d spent years upon years of highschool, college, divorces, with. It’d been so innocent when he’d visit— maybe he should’ve never stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to see you in full bloom, so handsome and lithe and sweet.

“ ‘Nothing,’ ” You echo, snarky as you mimic the flat, detached tone of Shouta’s voice. If you weren’t sulking before you definitely are now, readying yourself to push past him like some spoiled brat who was just denied their favorite candy after being caught trying to steal it nonetheless. So He holds onto your bicep, squeezing the flesh as it flexes with your feeble attempt at struggling.

“Are you done yet? Or do you need a minute to calm down?” He shifts his weight, voice calm and level as he holds you still despite the straining. Not a single hair on him is out of place, his tranquility almost alarming.

“Let go, old man!” He has to ignore the rush of adrenaline the back and forth gives him— the way he has an incessant urge to squeeze your jaw just a bit tighter.

“Hey,” You watch his lips curl to coo, a tone somewhat akin to a parent shushing a fussy child. Your face is turned to face him directly, “How many times do I have to talk to you?” Then impossibly close as his warm breath pans over the expanse of your face, “What’d I say about the attitude?”

“I don’t care what you say about it.” Your face is squished against his palm as you go to squirm your way out of his hold, but with the way his head angles down toward your face— you can barely get the words to sound convincing. There’s a giggle in your voice, like you think his frustration is amusing.“You like it, don’t you? Forget strange, you’re dirty!”

He’s the only thing keeping you upright, eyes narrowed and lidded, “Stop fuckin’ playing with me, little boy.”

“Dad never lets me drive the boat,” Though the man can sense your whining from miles away, it still manages to catch him off guard. Shouta quirks a brow in questioning, hand hovering a polite foot away from your calf as you stand to walk along the wading boat floor. “Destroyed his last one when I was a kid,” (He doesn’t have to know you were actually nineteen when you did.) You speak in a tone that makes him think just maybe you consider it more your father’s fault than your own. “This one’s nicer anyway.”

“That’s wasteful.” Aizawa bites the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed into a familiar line. Had one of his kids done that it’d be a completely different story. Surely one they wouldn’t be proud of telling either. Through the corner of his eye he watches you dig into the cooler, scrabbling past the beer bottles and iced hennessy, to pull out an ice cream.

“To you,” You spare him a glance before finally plopping down in the passenger’s seat with much more force than necessary— especially when sitting on a boat. “I did him a favor.”

The cooler did a poor job— your ice cream is already melted and soft once it’s unwrapped. Thick, velvety cream that you lap up with your tongue dribbles down your knuckles. He should find it gross, but your pretty eyes flickering upward to meet his own as you take one long, slow lick up each bend of your fingers has done the complete opposite. Fuck. It’s hot— your sticky fingers and messy lips, your pinched brows and tiny, pleased whines.

If only it were his cock.

Shouta’s thick. Much thicker than your ice cream, he’s sure you’d feel a good stretch to your lips if you wrapped them around the head of his cock. You’d probably whine about how hard you have to try, how heavy it is on your tongue— how much it’s stuffing you full when it hasn’t even slid down your throat yet. You’d cry too, maybe, with drool slicking your chin and coating his dick in a pretty, shiny layer of thick saliva.

“Want some?” You lean uncomfortably forward, though your legs are over the arms of your seat and draped across Shouta’s lap. Already close, Shouta can smell the oreo on your tongue and vanilla cream by the corner of your lips. “You’re staring pretty hard.”

“Sit up,” The deflection is an answer in itself, yet the dark-haired man can’t find a reason to look away. “Before you hurt yourself.”

Instead, you take his wrist, thick and decorated with a long vein, to fiddle with his fingers. They’re long— healthy, strong, clipped haphazardly— big. He watches you split his fingers apart, lacing your free hand with his own— and though he remains with all five fingers up, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the urge to close them around your much smaller ones. Shouta clears his throat while you hum, lapping at your ice cream before pressing your lips against his knuckles, “Want you to hurt me instead.”

“Hush,” There’s a sharp intake of breath, dark lashes fluttering as multicolored eyes glance past your shoulder. It’s evident he wants to say more— in the way he shifts his weight to lean outward. “You hardly know me.”

Your foot nudges his upper thigh, pressing into the firm skin as the boat moves further toward the horizon. It feels more secluded that way.. Private, even. As if there’s only the two of you left on the dreamy island. Your face looks a bit exasperated, like you’ve never had to work so hard in your life, and he has to admit it— it’s cute.

“I know you grew up with my dad,” He ignores the venom behind your tongue as you mention your father, letting out a low hum of confirmation. “I know you have two kids— adopted, right?”

“Hitoshi and Eri.” He interjects, voice soft and fond. You’d never noticed it before, but now you’re acutely aware of the gentle presence of breeze and rippling waters. Shouta’s relaxed face is much sweeter, still creased with age but not quite as deep. The cute, pinched dips between his brows are gone, but you know how to bring it back.

“Lucky. Wish you were my Daddy instead,” Aizawa isn’t sure which word he’s more hung up on, nor how it's so easy for you to completely twist his words— but as much as it rushes to his cock, gets him twitching in his pants and throbbing all the way down his heavy shaft— he doesn’t like it. You talk entirely too much. With lips much too sweet and sheen with cream. With a tongue that flicks and presses against your teeth when you smile. With a pretty voice he could listen to, all day. Something that’d sound better through choking and gagging—ragged and crackly and used. Your lashes flutter, soft and gentle against your cheek. “How old is Hitoshi? My age? If he takes after you, then. . .You’re just—“

“Listen to me,” Perhaps it’s not very characteristic of him, but he just can’t stop. Shouta moves without thinking, pressing his fingers into your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “For as long as I’m here,” he offers a squeeze. “For as long as your father is here,” then another, “Turn. It. Off.”

Your face melts into something floaty and distant, the smirk melting right off your face into something much more preferable. His thumb is so close, so close to your pretty lips. You blink once— twice, even— before regressing back into a grin, lips pressing against his long fingers. Fucking brat.

“I’ll just have to hit up Hitoshi sometime, then.”

The persistent comment nearly knocks him over, straight off the boat and plummeting into the cerulean depths of the sea. Instead, Shouta finds it better to step on the gas. . . To ignore the prickling heat in his blood, to ignore the easy taptaptap-ing of your fingers against the screen of your phone. It’s so easy for you to say anything around him— like a deliberate disregard for his reaction. His fingers thrum against the tiller, then wrap around its leather exterior to squeeze, and he doesn’t miss (not even for a second) the glance you give him through the corner of your eye.

The silence is almost painful. The motor speaks for you, loud and rushed and heavy. Aizawa’s jaw sets, clenched at each chiseled edge. His eyebrows furrow deep, angry, and his lips remain tightly shut. You can’t help but stare, watching his hair whip in the wind, dreamy and mellifluous. Not a moment of eye contact is shared, and you feel yourself slinking back into the white leather of your chair for the first time this evening.

Come the wooden dock just adjacent to the shoreline, Shouta’s throwing away wrappers (they’re all yours) and unbuckling his seatbelt. Your arms cross, a pout heavy in your lips as your eyes flutter closed. . Almost as if you being unable to see him makes him unable to see you.

“C’mon, baby.” You both miss the nickname, and despite the tension, it feels so natural dripping from his tongue.

Still, you whine. Mind occupied by your nearly offset tantrum prior to getting back at the dock. “I’m staying outside.”

“You’ll get heatstroke.” Shouta sighs, stepping back to lift you into his arms not even a moment later. You consider it ironic, for a moment, he always wears black despite the scorching heat. Bent at the waist as he leans over the open inside of the boat to unbuckle your seatbelt, his face remains stoic as your arms flail and fly to push him away. Your pretty face morphs into a nasty scowl, grumbles and mumbles toppling from your lips— you’re embarrassed.

He sets you down on the creaking wood, hands placed steady at your waist and shoulder to keep you upright— in your feeble attempt at escapism, your last result was simply going limp.

You just won’t budge, standing planted at the end of the dock despite the tugs to your biceps, forearm— hands, wrists. Your last attempt at pushing him away ends up in stumbles, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stomp down the polished dock, eyes hardening with the contact of deep, dark pools in Aizawa’s irises.

You were holding hands.

It’s been days. You haven’t left your room in days. At first, Shouta doesn’t worry. He doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t question why you don’t come downstairs. When he asks your parents about it it’s always the same thing— ‘That’s just how he is when he doesn’t get his way,’ or ‘He’ll come around.’ The more he asks, the mode suspicion, More questions, mostly wondering why he’s so enamored by their son— even if he had been closer to you when you were younger. But that was long ago, and you hardly remember.

And that isn’t even it.

He starts to worry, to feel bad, on day six. Not a single sound that even points to your presence. No creaking floorboards, no music playing from your old, antique and overpriced record player, no sounds of muffled laughter. It makes him feel out of his skin, like a bystander watching the inhabitants of this very beach house go about their day like nothing is wrong. But this wrong, so very wrong—

He wants you. His boy, his brat, his best friend’s son. It’s wrong and it’s taboo, but so help him, he yearns.

His feet had carried himself upstairs before his mind could, following after you a good half-hour later. You heard him on his way in, the shuffle of his slipper-clad feet from the outside of your door. Still, you’d made no effort to move, no effort to free yourself from the cocoon of your childhood blankets, no effort to open the door despite his gentle knocking.

“You ready to talk yet?” He was willing to brush it all aside. The pushing, the persistent flirting, the slight disregard for his feelings, the mentions of his son. Really, he was jealous. Maybe it’s unsavory for him to admit, maybe he shouldn’t think of his son as competition. And he knows, of course, there’s nothing there— he’s only ever competing with himself. He just can’t help it.

Maybe he’s a bit spoiled too.

“I don’t like being ignored.” Your voice was small, but he could still hear it through the door. He heard it all, every implication. His sweet boy, his spoiled brat. You froze, just briefly, before he let himself in. The door creaked slowly with its open and close, a gentle click of the lock as the air grew thick.

Your old bed is small and creaky. Almost as much as the underused floorboards, your old bedroom screams with just as much personality as it does neglect. There’s tiny figurines, posters, awards, memorabilia— but it’s all too clean. Even if it has collected dust, not a thing is out of place. Pristine. There’s a few scattered photos— awkward haircuts, familial pets, the works. . Unapologetically you, maybe when you were just a tad bit more naive— but you nonetheless. It even smells like you, just with a hint of sea salt and warm, summer-y vanilla. Shouta wants to bury his nose in it.

“None of my fancy college boyfriends liked it here, Maybe ‘Toshi would.” You shift your weight as Shouta sits at the edge of your bed, the springy mattress creaking ever so slightly. There’s something left unsaid between the small string of words— and it’s sour. Twists on Shouta’s tongue, like he’s bitten into old bread, and it’s not just the mention of past boyfriends. Sure, that’s not exactly what he’d call this. . . relationship, but it’s not like it’d feel wrong. And he’d certainly feel bitter if his son were in his shoes. “Guess my sheets weren’t silky enough. Can tell you what was, th—”

“I like it.” It’s simple. The admission— simple and sweet, like it’s obvious. Shouta watches your lips part for a moment, just to close again, like a fish out of water. You look so small when you’re caught off guard, glancing to the side and shifting your weight onto your palms as you sit in the comfy middle of your bed. He knows what you’re doing— redirecting the conversation by flirting (it does get his heart beating, he’ll admit it)— and it makes you seem softer, almost.

He watches you sniffle for a moment, a quiet sound as you shift your knees with exuberating coyness. Your eyebrows furrow, cheeks puffed into a pout because, “That's it? You just ‘ like ’ it?”

He’ll give it to you, you never give up. He’d been warned, he was skeptical, and he’s been proven wrong. And, in the brunette’s head, you’d tallied over three strikes. Perhaps he was being too lenient. And now, Shouta, the weak man that he is, simply wants to indulge.

“What else would I say?”

“That it’s nice,” You cock your head to the side. “That you’ve never seen a room so nice. Which m’sure is true, anyway. . Are you low income, Sho? I can’t imagine what it’s like being a single father of two— or one, since Hitoshi moved out forever ago.”

The older man takes a breath through his nose, and out through his mouth. Pretty irises flicker down to meet the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, like the tidal wave of emotion has washed away back into shore, his voice is level as he speaks, “You spoke to him.”

“You ignored me,” You say it as if it’s obvious, simple, that if you can’t have Shouta you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. And though it’s not entirely true, you only really stalked his social media to learn more about his father, you don’t think your heart can stomach seeing pride swell in Aizawa’s chest. “Wanted your attention, Daddy.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, cold air rattling the bones as he watches you stare up at him. Your eyes look softer, boyish, wider at this angle. His pink tongue darts over his equally pink lips, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

“Shh, sh, sh,” Shouta’s cock slips down your throat with a low grunt, the slippery walls clench around the fat head of his cock. Just as he imagined it, cutting off pretty whines and gasps, head bobbing back and forth— like you can’t tell whether it’s too much or too little. There’s a slight burn— the stretch of his thick, sticky cock nestled against your throat— but it feels good, heavy and throbbing in a way that makes your brain shut off so quickly you drool. It sticks to his shaft and slides down his balls, painting your chin in a syrupy-sweet layer of saliva, but you’re too far gone to wipe it away. Such a good boy.

He must’ve said it aloud, because there you are nodding, lazily bobbing your head as he grinds in and out of your mouth. There’s a loud, sticky sound coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, obscene in a way that makes you whimper around your heavy mouthful of cock. He’s quick to correct himself— you only ever seem to behave when you’re stuffed with his dick, and he can’t have you thinking your behavior is acceptable. With a grunt, deep and velvety, Aizawa pushes deeper into your mouth until you gag— tight throat convulsing and quivering around his shaft.

You slurp loudly, choking and gasping as you struggle to pull back. His balls hit your chin, heavy and sticky and so fucking good as tears stream down your face. You’re starting to get into it now, making a mess of yourself as you stick out your tongue to lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, eyes focused on the rings of saliva holding you together. Shouta pulls out to let you breathe, his cock quickly liding upupup your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit as you chase after what you’ve been wanting for the past month.

“Stop fuckin’ moving. Let Daddy use your throat, wanna hear you cry on it,” The bulge of his fat cock shows in your throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.

You want to whine, to beat your fists against his thighs, and kick your feet— it’s all so much. He has you by the hair, big hand pulling and tugging, lifting you on and off his cock like a warm, tight fleshlight. You fail to bite back a growl, though it emits more as a cute, pathetic sound, glassy eyes focused on his cock being shoved down your hot, wet throat. It’s so easy to press your lips against the darkness of his pubes, to smear pre along your pouty lips and cheeks. His cock jumps in your mouth, thick and long and curved, leaking at the tip.

It’s hard to adjust to the stretch, sputtering and gagging with such cute, greedy sounds. You’re getting ahead of yourself, eager, tongue lapping at the achy underside of his dick, pressed against his balls. And, with a gasp, Shouta pulls out, huffs and unintelligible groans filling the air. The blushing head of his cock taps against your cheek. Once, twice, again and again. “C’mere.”

And yet, despite all that bark, your eyes barely make contact with the ones above you. Instead they trace the pulse of his shaft, how heavy his cock hangs between his legs, how it makes his long fingers almost smaller in comparison. The way pre dribbles from the tip, sticky and warm and oh, so inviting. It’s as if he can read your mind, knows how badly you miss the weight of his thick cock stretching your throat, “You can do better than that," and you almost can't believe it.

Better? Your eyes flicker to the saliva dripping from your chin, suddenly aware of the slick pre smeared across your pretty cheeks and the heavy pants leaving your lips. What gets better than this? You let him use your throat like a new fleshlight, cried on his cock and muffled the sounds in his pubes. Ignored the aching of your own cock just to focus on his own, absentmindedly bucking your hips into nothing, even if it made you look like a pathetic puppy. Fine— you can show him better. You can break him first.

You blink rapidly, tears clumped in your pretty eyelashes, lips parting to, indubitably, sass the older man. “What, need help gettin’ it up? Fuck you, can do it m—”

Prideful boy. Shouta will have to fix that.

“— I wasn’t asking.” You really fucked up now, eyes wide as you’re lifted up by your throat and manhandled into Shouta’s strong arms. He smells good, and just as strong, as your face is pressed into his chest and your tiny, tiny shorts are pushed past your thighs. The air is cold, it spreads goosebumps along your skin, and you’re sure Shouta can feel them along his palm as he grabs handfuls of your ass. He ignores your off guard ‘Hey! I wasn’t done!’, ignores the squirm of your waist, ignores your poor, weeping cock.

Being the smooth, calculated man that he is, you’d expect Aizawa to put a rhythm and pace to his spankings. But no, there’s nothing for you to latch onto but the bundles of his hair as he hands out sporadic, random, and hard smacks along each globe of your ass. There is no back and forth, no favoring one over the other— it’s just where he wants, when he wants. If he wants to watch your thighs convulse and jiggle beneath his heavy palm he will, and if he wants to smack your hands away from his wrists as you tug and tug— he will.

Shouta groans when you let out a particularly pathetic cry, biting your lip and whimpering into his warm skin. You can feel his big hands part your cheeks, squeezing the skin until it spills over each finger and your ass has turned tender and sensitive. He coos, feeling you squirm and wriggle against his hold, “S’it too much? Daddy’s poor baby.”

It shouldn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s condescending and rough, even when he’s cracking his palm down again and again despite your kicks and squeals.

But it does.

“Da—ddy. . !” your voice quivers, hips rocking to an uncoordinated tune. So little contact and yet it feels like so much, his hot palms against your warm skin. . . The tears rolling down your darling face. . . The way your cock throbs against your tummy, your mouth aches with emptiness, your hole twitches beneath the weight of his fingers. The thought makes you want to whine all over again, body squirming and trembling as he holds and kneads the flesh of your ass.

“Quiet. I should shove my fingers down your throat to shut you up,” Shouta murmurs, so unnecessarily mean, kissing the dampness of your forehead before his hand cracks down against your plush ass three, four, five more times. You try to keep up your resolve, pretty legs trembling and knuckles clenching— but it’s just so hard. Being a brat is easy— it’s fun— you’ll give up a few tears, cry and pout, get your way. Easy. So you won’t break and give him what he wants. He’ll have to work for it, get a taste of his own mean, mean medicine.

Delayed gratification.

Wet llips open to speak, something smug and almost smart, but it’s reduced to a wet moan. You feel it—fingers spreading apart the globes of your ass, and more cracking down between them, on your empty, pretty little hole. For a moment your brain slips out of your body, thoughts static and turned to mush, fuzzy and convulsing where you lay. You process the sound of hushing, the feeling of wetness, the sound of slick spit against your skin. . . Thick, merciless fingers rubbing and tapping and sliding against you.

“Oh, god,” You sob, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows pinching the second more pressure builds and— oh, a finger slips inside. “Fingers— that’s, oh god..” Inching in slowly, rubbing against your velvety walls and so fucking slick you’re beginning to see stars. Whatever you had your mind set on earlier flies straight out the window, your brain short circuits as your sopping hole flutters around his fingers, sucking them in.

“Fuck, baby, look at you clench on Daddy’s fingers. Want Daddy to finger-fuck this cute little cunt silly?” If you could see his face you’re sure he’d be smiling— an eerie thing, eyes trained on his fingers getting sucked back into you. Such a needy boy. “C’mon, say it. Tell Daddy you want his big fingers in your sweet, greedy little pussy.”

You can’t help it, hole throbbing rhythmically along his long fingers, squelching and gushing with stickiness. The swell of your ass ripples as you wiggle your hips, rising and falling to grindgrindgrind. “Fuck me already, c’mon, old man.”

“That what your little ‘boyfriends’ do?” Your lip quivers— he hadn't even flinched at the sass— and instead used your own words against you. “Oh, baby. They didn’t give that little boycunt the attention he needed, hm? That why you throw so many tantrums?”

Your hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around thick and strong limp just enough to get his hand moving, trying to guide him deeper, faster, harder. He should reward bratty behavior, but the words spill from his mouth almost immediately, “That’s it, just needed something to fill you up, nice and full.”

It’s ironic— he says it just before pulling out his soaked fingers. And, at your nightstand, opens the drawer to retrieve lube. You watch him pause, eyes scanning the contents of the drawer until his lips quirk downward. Lollipop wrappers. An ungodly amount— you really went on a hunger strike because he ignored you? For six whole days?

“What am I gonna do with you.” He sighs, but grabs a sucker regardless, tearing open its pretty, pastel blue packaging to reveal its red, shiny hard candy. He pops the treat into his mouth, holds it on the right side with his teeth, and squirts a generous amount of lube over the globes of your ass. His hands slip and slide as he guides it around, watches it dribble down your thighs and relishes in the way your hole opens up for him, soaked and sticky.

Your eyebrows pinch, hips wiggling as he pulls the lollipop free from his mouth and directs it against your own, “Suck,” He murmurs, but it’s forced past your lips before you can process the demand. Here come more tears, burning your nose as you hiccup out a tiny, overwhelmed, “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” He coos, circling the pad of his thumb along the rim of your hole. Even as your feet instinctively kick, there’s no reaction from him, just a pleased hum. “Keep sucking, atta boy.”

His thumb feels like a lot, makes you squeal and shiver as he presses it inside, and something hot and wet accompanies it. That's good, the heat of his tongue licking and sucking at your throbbing rim, bubbly spit dribbling down his chin and caught in his stubble. One hand is focused on fucking your boyhole raw, till your brain goes numb and you’re incoherent. His palm presses into the small of your ass, tongue working hard until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth flies open in a silent scream. He takes the opportunity to snatch the lollipop back, keeps his tongue pressed against your walls until—

He trails the glossy sphere of the candy down to your sloppy little hole, nudging and prodding until he slowly works the lollipop inside. “You can take it,” He growls, eyes trained on your fucked-out face. He can feel it, the tightening of your balls, the way your hole aches and pulses with the treat inside you. “That’s it, sweet thing. Wanna make this pussy cum, give it t’me. Let Daddy have it..”

He murmurs, and suddenly, instead of the treat that he’s popping back into his mouth, there’s the head of his perfectly thick, so big, cock pressing against your slick, thoroughly fucked-out hole and—

Oh.

“Sweet.”

You sob into nothing, back arching and spongy walls clinging down on Shouta’s cock as it’s worked inch by inch into you and— you can’t fucking believe it. You fought for so long, put on a bratty attitude and stomped your feet. Why would you ever push Shouta and his cock away for so long? Your breaths are short. Tiny little gasps as his large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs open to get a better view of the thick dick pumping you full. Your pretty little hole, sheen with spit and lube, exposed and on display for him and his cock. And, yeah, this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. . . You want him to break you.

“You’re— fuck, you’re so gross, Daddy,” Shouta grits his teeth, “Ohh, havin’ your best friend’s son on your fat cock, fuckin’ my pussy so full. . !” You’re straight up babbling, cross-eyed as each thrust knocks coherent thoughts out your brain. A real, proper slut, desperately humping upupup to fuck yourself on his dick. With this position— knees to your ears and holes on display, you barely have the control to move— but it’s cute to watch you try anyway.

“Shut up and take it,” He rasps, voice deep and scratchy in a harsh whisper as his hips snap back and forth. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to hear their son calling someone else daddy, do you?”

“Daddy— Daddy, my pussy—“ You’re babbling, it’s all you can do since Shouta is all force with his thrusts; takes what he needs, feeds you his cock good and so, so deep. Over and over, you let out broken whines, desperate for it, looking down as best you can to watch your own cock bob and jump against your tummy, thighs sticky with spit and lube. You can hear the sound of your slutty, pathetic moans, the wet plaplaplap of skin, lube trailing and frothing between your bodies as Shouta fucks into you. You can’t stop twitching— your legs, your hole, your cock.

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” He corrects, angling his hips just right, the heat of his cock pressing against every special spot you’ve got. Every bundle of nerves, every silky, spongy wall you’ve got wrapped around him. “Just like that,” You’re gagging for it, pouty lips parting with open-mouthed pants as he continues to watch your hole tighten around his thick, veiny cock. He has to swallow down his own drool, reaching deeper into you, your body jerking back as he pounds, and pounds, and pounds. You may not be a good boy, but you’re a damn good slut.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. . .” Your breath is caught in your throat, and if you could, you’d scream, your body tensing as your cock throbs and bounces, cum spraying across your bare chest — stickiness shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body set ablaze. Shouta shows no signs of stopping, instead keeping his cock inside you as he flips you around, eyes narrowed. He fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, leaky hole milking him for all he’s got.

“Dumb sluts love cock, baby. S’that what you are?” His voice is a low purr, pressing your face into the mattress, watching your ass fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you.

“Yeah, mhmm,” You drool into your pillow, absentmindedly fucking yourself back onto him. You’re desperate to chase after it, the searing spiral of pressure growing in your stomach, tight hole bearing down on his cock. “Daddy’s slut, s’me!” For a minute you think you’ve passed out, everything going dark as you ride out his hard thrusts, offering tiny movements of your own, up and down to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, to feel his balls slap against your thighs.

“Good sluts take Daddy’s cum,” Your eyes, so glassy and empty, is what gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. “Take it, boy. Let Daddy knock you up.” It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. Shouta’s cum starts to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are erratic and sloppy, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. You never want it to stop, not the groaning or moaning, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move.

He ignores your needy, overstimulated whines when he pulls out completely, his spent cock hanging heavy between his thighs. Even when you’re limp and boneless, body trembling violently, you want more.

“Da— Da—ddy,” You sob, eyes squeezed shut as strong arms pull you up and into even stronger thighs. Sitting on his lap now, Shouta coos hums, basks in the sight of his pretty boy’s afterglow.

“Daddy’s here. I’m here, I got you.” He whispers into your shoulder, and that’s all you need to hear. The thought of his best friend melts away— you’re more than that. You’re not just his best friend’s son. . .

You’re Shouta’s boy.

Summer is coming to an end.

There’s a seasonal chill in the air and it’s getting dark in the early afternoon. The beach has switched its course, currents changing direction and fish disappearing from the shoreline. The weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up, and the clouds have yet to dissipate into the sky. . Shouta helps you pack, grumbles when you press chaste kisses against his skin the whole time— shuts down the stomps of your feet while you whine, “I don’t wanna leave.”

“Spring break,” Is all Shouta says, his mismatched eyes downcast in a way that highlights his long, pretty eyelashes. Then, voice barely audible, he whispers, “I don’t want you to, either.”

Your body visibly straightens, giddiness painting your boyish face as you smile wide and big. The older man almost regrets saying it, huffing with you lean impossible close to hug him tight. “Will you call me?”

“Whenever you want,” He says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. You watch as he throws your large bag of lollipops into your carry-on backpack, but not before plucking a treat free from the others. “You know I will.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

[sturniluvr]

Love in the sun

Lando Norris x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none other than a few mentions of children (if you don’t like kids😭) possible spelling mistakes(?)

summary: Lando and Y/N go on holiday together during the summer break and come home engaged.

A/N: Keep in mind throughout that I have no idea how the luxury life works im broke asf so it may be inaccurate😭and sorry for quite a few time skips I had a bit of writers block😭

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N and Lando were currently halfway through their flight en route to Mykonos for a week while Lando had the summer break. The couple had a few things pre planned for the week in Greece such as a party boat they had booked prior to the holiday and Y/N was hoping for no more injuries on Lando's end after the incident in Amsterdam and going to a few tourist attractions, but they mostly just wanted to spend time with each other, they didn’t care what they were doing as long as they were together, and of course they were staying with Hilton as the couple always had the best experiences with Hilton hotels and being a sponsor of McLaren, it was only right they chose Hilton. 

Lando was scrolling on his phone and he felt a weight on his shoulder, he looked to his side and saw his girlfriend asleep on his shoulder. The love of his life, his best friend, his girl and hopefully, soon, his wife. She had been by his side since before he made it into f1, he remembers vividly how excited she was when he told her he was offered a seat with McLaren, she seemed more excited than he was, and she hadn’t left his side since. He smiled at the memory. He had a whole plan set in place to propose to Y/N, he couldn’t wait to propose to her, he had brought the ring around 2 years into the relationship when he was out with Max and he saw the perfect ring that just screamed Y/N to him and he’d just been waiting for the perfect moment, which was this holiday and also their 5 year anniversary. 

time skip to landing

Lando was looking out the window in his own world when he heard the pilot over the intercom. 

“Mr Norris, we will be starting descent in Mykonos in about 10 minutes so please get ready to fasten your seatbelt sir.” On cue, he saw the little seatbelt light come on above his head. He gently shook Y/N to wake her up. 

“Darling, we’ll be landing soon, you need to put your seatbelt on.” He spoke quietly as he knows she doesn’t like loud noises when she first wakes up. She stirs and slowly opens her eyes and lifted her head off Lando’s shoulder. Lando looked at her with a soft smile and a little chuckle escaped his lips at the sight of the woman’s messy hair.  

“Hey sleepy head, pilot just said to put our belts on we’ll be descending soon.” She nodded at him as she fixed her hair and put her belt on, Lando doing the same next to her. 

As they got closer to the ground, Y/N grabbed hold on Lando’s hand to comfort herself as landing was probably her least favourite part of flying and he rubbed her knuckles in a comforting manner. 

After landing, they grabbed their luggage and made their way to the chauffeur who led them to the car provided by Hilton to take them to the hotel.  

small time skip cus I’m lazy

They arrived to their room in the hotel and unpacked their suitcases and got changed into some clothes more suited to the warm climate of the island they were on for the next two weeks as they had an early flight and when the couple arrived it was only early afternoon After changing, Y/N and Lando left the hotel and went for a small walk around the town and get anything little essentials they may need while on holiday like bottles of water, snacks for the hotel room etc. 

“Don’t forget we need to buy sunscreen aswel, since somebody left it behind being the clever clogs he is.” Y/N said, giving Lando a cheeky smile.  

“Ha Ha, very funny cheeky.” Lando replied sarcastically, pinching her side softly. The couple laughed as they continued to walk in and out of shops and buy the essentials. 

Later on that day, Y/N was relaxing on a sunbed reading her book and Lando was next to her on another sunbed with his hat over his eyes. About half hour later, Y/N was now lying on her stomach so she could tan her back aswel as her front and she felt a pair of hands smack her bum. She looked behind to see her boyfriend with a boyish smile on his face, she smiled back at him and rolled her eyes jokingly at his actions. 

“Do you want another drink baby? I'm going to the bar.” Lando stated and she nodded. 

“Same again please Lan, I'm going to head up to the room for a little siesta, it’s getting pretty warm out here.” He nodded in understanding knowing how easily the heat got to her sometimes, that’s why he always made sure she was well hydrated and was taking care of herself. 

“Okay baby, I’ll grab our drinks and I’ll come up aswel and have a quick shower or something.” She nodded at her boyfriend before he left to go get their drinks from the bar. She packed up everything she had brought down to the pool with her and made her way into the hotel and up to their room. 

couple days later

Y/N was relaxing on the balcony of the hotel room while waiting for Lando to get back, he’d told her he was going out to get some more water for the room when in reality he was sat in the hotel reception talking on the phone to the manager of the restaurant he was planning to take Y/N to on the last day of the holiday, their anniversary, to finalise any details about the proposal and the booking details.  

“So, you’ll tell her you’re going to the bathroom and one of our waiters will lead her out to the beach? Is that correct Mr Norris?” the manager asked Lando over the phone.

“Yes, that is correct. Thank you again for helping me with this. It means a lot.” Lando replied, the manager smiled at the idea of young love.

“It's quite alright sir. Right, that's all booked and ready for you for a few days' time.” 

Once everything was finalised, he thanked the manager and hung up the phone and left the hotel with a small smile on his face at the thought of him proposing to the love of his life in the next couple days and made his way to the little shop 10 minutes from the hotel and grabbed the bottles of water like he had told Y/N he was doing. 

He walked back to the hotel and into the hotel room where he was met with the sight of Y/N asleep on the sofa in the living area with the balcony door open to let a breeze in and her book covering her face. He smiled in amusement and put the crate of water bottles down and he made his way over to the sofa. He crouched down in front of her and took her book from off her face, keeping his thumb on the page so she wouldn’t lose her page and quickly put her bookmark in place before closing it. He gently shook her awake.  

“Wake up sleepy head. We need to go downstairs for lunch soon.” She opened her eyes lazily and looked at Lando with a sleepy smile which he returned with a smile of his own. She slowly sat up and picked up her half drunk bottle of water off the table in front of her. 

“Hey pretty girl, the sun tired you out huh?” He joked, stroking her thigh. She nodded softly before speaking. 

“Yeah, and it didn’t help next door had a crying baby and I couldn’t focus on my book, so I just came inside.” Lando chuckled at her response.  

“We’ll be heading down for lunch in a minute if you wanna go freshen up a bit beforehand.” The curly haired boy spoke, Y/N nodded and made her way to their bedroom to put a clean top on as she had some sweat stains that didn’t look flattering at all and touched up the small amount of makeup she had on which consisted of just concealer, mascara and some lip balm. 

The couple both headed down to lunch, indulging in conversation about the most random topics causing them both to start laughing. The couple were suddenly interrupted by a little girl, who looked no older than 5 and had a little bunny stuffed animal in her arms, who came up to them and tapped Y/N’s arm softly. 

“Excuse me miss, can you help me find my mummy. I was with her and my older brother and now I can’t find them.” The older woman’s eyes softened at the sight of the tears in the little girl's eyes. She nodded at her. 

“Of course, sweetheart. What’s your name?” Y/N spoke in a gentle tone. 

“Emily, I’m sorry for interrupting you two, but I recognised Lando because Jack my brother is a formula one fan and I’ve seen him on tv, so I thought you two seemed safe rather than a complete stranger.” Emily admitted shyly, Lando nodded at her with a smile before the couple stood up to help her find her brother and mum. 

“You did the right thing sweetie. C’mon we’ll help you find your mum” Lando spoke, he held the little girl's small hand in his and the three of them made their way over to the front desk at reception. 

“Excuse me, this little girl has lost her mum. Do you have any idea where she could be?” Y/N asked the lady on the front desk. She nodded and made her way around to the front of the desk so she could talk to Emily. 

“What does your mum look like sweetheart?” She asked as she crouched down to her size. 

“Brown hair, green eyes, she had a long blue dress on, she was with my older brother who was wearing red swim shorts and a Minecraft t-shirt” the receptionist nodded at her. All of a sudden, they heard the voice of a woman, Y/N looked up to see a woman matching Emily’s description of her mother.  

“Emily! There you are baby!” She ran over and gave her a quick hug. Emily pointed to the three other adults before she spoke to her mum.

“The helped me mummy. Lando and his girlfriend helped me find you and the nice lady on reception!” Emily walked over to Y/N and gave her a hug which Y/N reciprocated. 

“Thank you.” Emily muttered smiling up at the couple. They both smiled at her. 

“Thank you for helping my daughter, we were so worried!” Her mum exclaimed.  

“It’s fine honestly! I can’t imagine how worried I’d be if I’d lost my kid in a resort this big.” She replied, the two women chuckling at her response. Lando looked to Jack and smiled. 

“Hey buddy, I hear you’re a formula one fan? Do you want a photo?” He asked and Jack nodded quickly, the children’s mum pulled out her phone and Jack walked over to Lando and the pair took a photo together. Jack said a quick thank you to the driver before the little family headed off and the couple went to their room to get ready for the party boat they were going on later, which thankfully did not end in any injuries on Lando’s part this time.

 

the last night of the holiday

Tonight was Y/N and Lando’s last night of the holiday, and it was their anniversary. After a morning full of cuddles, kisses, some less PG stuff and exchanging cards and gifts, the couple had spent the rest of the day walking around visiting little landmarks around Mykonos and getting gifts for family members.  

They were now currently getting ready to head out to the Italian restaurant Lando had booked for them. Y/N was wearing a flowy white dress that came down to just below her knees and Lando was wearing a plain white dress shirt and some khaki shorts that Y/N had brought him just before they came to Mykonos. 

“You ready sweetheart?” Lando shouted to Y/N from the bedroom. She walked in and smiled at him. 

“Yup. You ready?” She replied walking into the bedroom smiling at Lando who was sat on the bed. He reached out to her and rested his hands on her waist and pulled her into him, he pulled her down slightly and planted a kiss to her lips. 

“You look stunning baby. An absolute princess if you ask me.” he expressed with a small smirk on his face. She grabbed her bag off the bed and grabbed Lando’s hand and the couple made their way out the hotel and to the restaurant.  

Once they arrived at the restaurant, the waiter took them to their seats and took their orders, coming back shortly after with the drink orders which was some red wine for both of them. When they had their food brought to them around 20 minutes later, they ate their food while talking about anything they could think of. There was never a dull moment with Y/N and Lando’s conversations.

After eating and having paid the bill. Lando was about to put the plan into motion. 

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom before we leave gorgeous. Won’t be long.” She nodded at Lando, what she didn’t realise was Lando was actually leaving through the back entrance of the restaurant to get to the beach across from the restaurant without Y/N realising. 

Shortly after, the waiter came over to Y/N and held his arm out for her to take. 

“If you’d like to close your eyes and follow me miss.” he requested. She skeptically complied and took his arm as she closed her eyes, and he took her across to the beach where Lando was waiting by the ocean.  

Once she was in front of Lando, he silently thanked the waiter and he left and went back to the restaurant. Lando grabbed Y/N’s hands in his and she took that as a sign to open her eyes and her and Lando were the only ones on the beach and the only sounds was the water crashing onto the sand. Lando began to speak. 

“Y/N, from the moment I made it home after our first date when we were 19, I knew you were the one. You’ve been with me through the ups and downs of not only my life, but my entire career and I could not thank you enough. You experienced my first podium with me and my first win and every other milestone in my career and I’ll forever be grateful to have you by my side for everything. My mum always told me as a kid that when I meet the one, I’d feel it. You’re the one Y/N. You’re my person.” Lando announced. Y/N’s hand flew over her mouth as Lando got down onto one knee and pulled out a red velvet box, opening the box to reveal the most stunning diamond ring, tears were welling in both of the adults’ eyes. 

“Y/N M/N/ L/N, will you make the happiest man ever and marry me?” He spoke with a hint of emotion in his voice. She vigorously nodded her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. 

“Yes Lando! Of course I’ll marry you” she replied. He grinned up at her and placed the ring on her left ring finger as he stood back up, hearing distant claps from people passing by and sat outside the restaurant who had witnessed the proposal. He then cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a passionate kiss full of love. The newly engaged couple pulled out of the kiss and smiled at each other, eyes filled with just as much love as the day they met. 

“I love you so much my darling girl. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” He grinned ear to ear at his now fiancée.  

“I love you too my love. I can’t wait to be married to you and spend the rest of our lives together.” She replied, smiling back at her fiancé. 

They made their way up the beach, walking along the shore in a comfortable silence. Y/N was first to break the silence. 

“Oh my god I just realised I can now put my Pinterest board to use!” She exclaimed in excitement, clapping her hands together with a beaming smile on her face. Lando let out a laugh at her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Y/N wrapped her arm around his waist. 

“I knew you’d say that you muppet” Lando joked. She smiled softly up at him. 

“We’re both muppets but we’re each other's muppets.” She corrected the driver. He just smiled at his girl. 

“That we are beautiful, that we are.” He softly chuckled as they continued to walk down the beach. 

Once they got home from Mykonos early the next morning, Y/N and Lando had announced the proposal on social media and rang their families, who were all very happy and excited for the couple. 

y/user

Liked by: landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, mclaren and others

y/user: Mykonos with my favourite human, swipe to the end for a surprise👀 (hint: he’s now completely off the market ladies🤭)

tagged: landonorris

comments:

landonorris: had the best time with you beautiful, love you forever🤍

liked by creator❤️

y/user: right back at you my love. Love you more❤️

pietra.pilao: congratulations you two!! So happy! Love you both🫶🏻

liked by: landonorris, y/user

y/user: thank you p! We love you too🫶🏻

mclaren: congratulations to you both!🧡

liked by: landonorris, y/user

lilyzneimer: omg!! Congrats you guys🤍(I better be your bridesmaid y/n/n😉😂)

liked by: landonorris, y/user, oscarpiastri

y/user: thank you lils! You already know you’re my bridesmaid babe!😉😘

liked by lilyzneimer

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landonorris

Liked by: mclaren, y/user, oscarpiastri and others

landonorris: Lando Norriz who?😏 here’s to forever with you my darling girl I can’t wait for you to be Mrs Norris🥂I love you endlessly🤍

tagged: y/user

comments:

y/user: I love you my boy🤍can’t wait to be mrs Norris🤍 (and to use my Pinterest board😝)

liked by creator❤️

landonorris: 😭😭😭 I do love you baby😂❤️

oscarpiastri: congrats mate!👏🏻Love you both!🧡 (Y/N and Lily have already been messaging non-stop about dresses😭)

liked by: y/user, landonorris, lilyzneimer

landonorris: thanks osc!🧡 and trust me mate, I know😭

y/user: watch it you pair, lily will be just as bad when you finally grow a pair and propose osc😌😘

lilyzneimer: yes I will😉😘

oscarpiastri: 👀

maxfewtrell: congrats you pair! Lots of love❤️

liked by: y/user, landonorris

landonorris: cheers mate we love you too❤️

user3: omg my parents!!😭🫶🏻also trust Lando to wear a jumper in Mykonos😭

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🏷️: @allywthsr @idathereader @moonlight-girls-posts @saturnbloom77 @scar-005 @barcelonaloverf1life @shellybee456 @meandjoemama @wellwellwellsposts @charli123456789 @timmy-wife1 @m4rt10ne @tellybearryyyy @hc-dutch @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @neo-teenkidz @landosgirl97 @promenadewithme

If there’s a line through your name, it wouldn’t let me tag you😭

[a-hazbin-reader]

going to the beach with Alastor? Sounds fun!

I love rock hunting at the beach 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being MEAN, Cartoonish violence, Suggestive?

Description: ☝️⬆️

Originally, Alastor doesn't want to go to the beach but after some begging and pleading from you he gives in

He's weak to your puppy eyes and just in general can't tell you no

So he's going to the beach

Alastor is normally content to just soak up some sun at the beach, really relax and enjoy his time

But he's also a little shit who loves to mess with people in any way he can including his S/O

Meeting you and entering a relationship with you has opened up a whole new way for him to play

Alastor knows how good he looks in his beach outfit, the way you blush and stare at him is proof enough

Little does he know you just think his hooves are cute

Not that he doesn't also think you look good

You look delicious

He likes getting those flustered reactions out of you, they're his little reassurances that you're still into him

Of course you are??

He literally strikes coy poses whenever you walk by him, doing everything he can to catch your eye

"Y/N, could you help me with my sunscreen~?"

"Darling, could you fetch me an ice cream cone?"

"Would you be so kind as to get me something to drink? It's so hot out today!"

You're gonna melt

Not that he doesn't spend a good amount of time watching you as well

Will relax in a watertube nearby so that he can stay close to you, listening to your laughter

He watches on with a fond smile as you play in the water with Niffty and Angel, using his tentacles to grab anyone else who looks at you

Uses his sunglasses to hide the fact that he's watching you build a sandcastle with Husk and Vaggie, pretending to sunbathe

"Niffty!! You're destroying it!"

"Bury me! Bury me ALIVE!"

Angel catches him and just assumes Alastor is looking at your ass as you bend over the wrecked remains of your castle

Alastor has the decency to look embarrassed

If you want to fly a kite, then Alastor will stand behind you with the lame excuse that he's helping you

"And your hands on my hips help me how..?"

"I'm simply positioning your body to better hold the kite, my love~"

When you ask him to play volleyball with you, Alastor will make a big show of thinking it over

But as soon as he sees Lucifer and Charlie are your opponents then he's getting up and ready to fucking win

He's going to show off for you for the first few rounds, then it'll dissolve into him and Lucifer competing fiercely

You and Charlie are just standing and watching them at this point, you two even leave to go get food then come back

You'll have to drag him away if you want some time with him because he won't quit

"I should've won, darling! I won that last round..!"

"Yes dear, you won." 😘

Will walk with you along the beach, holding any shells or cool things you find in the sand

Won't warn you when the tide is coming in though, laughing when you come back to him looking like a soaked kitten

Isn't laughing when you throw him in but he makes sure to take you down with him

Now both of you are soaked, laying together in the water and smiling at each other while holding in your laughter

And if he rolls you over and kisses you, then that's your business

You two walk back wet and covered in sand, which is a lot less fun than you anticipated

You can't help but laugh as you try to brush the sand off of Alastor's ears, his smile annoyed

"Remind me why I agreed to come to the beach? All this sand..."

"Because I wanted you to be here with us...with me..!"

"So you're to blame~"

You're probably exhausted after such an eventful day, wanting to get the sand off of your body

"Ugh...I desperately need a shower after today..."

Alastor's grin is positively predatory as he runs his claws down your back before pulling you in by your waist

"I'll join you, my dear~"

This was too fun! I love the beach so much! I hope you liked it!

[mapiforpresident]

Beach Babe

Our Little Family Blurb (Masterlist)

Alexia x reader x Mapi

warnings: none

summary: You and your wives take your son to the beach for the first time.

not proof read!

~~~

It was a sunny warm day in Barcelona and you, Mapi and Alexia decided that it was the perfect day for a family outing. Hugo was three months old and you thought it was the perfect time to take him on his first beach day. 

“Morning love,” you said to Mapi, your English accent being stronger in the mornings. You kissed her on the lips before she went and made herself a coffee. You were currently making breakfast. You and Alexia woke up over an hour ago, but let Mapi sleep in since she had been on baby duty throughout the night.

“Ale is just in there with Hugo putting on his outfit for the day. She decided on the crab swimsuit.” Mapi then walked over to see the swimsuit you were referring to. Alexia was sitting on the floor in the living room with Hugo on a blanket slipping his little legs into the holes. She leaned down to give Ale a kiss, careful not to spill her coffee.

“Look at you little dude, I love your new outfit. I can’t wait to teach you how to build a sandcastle.” Mapi said as she admired her smiley and squirmy son.

“He can't even sit up yet, let alone build a sandcastle,” Alexia said as she finished putting his swimsuit on. 

“He can sit in my lap and I will help him. It is never too early to learn,” Mapi replied as she walked back over to help you finish the breakfast.

~~~

As you arrived at the beach, the scent of saltwater and the sound of waves crashing on the shore filled the air. Hugo was nestled carefully in a baby carrier strapped to Mapi’s chest. He moved his little head around as best he could trying to take in all the brand new sights and sounds. Alexia pulled a wagon with all the other beach and baby essentials and you carried the large umbrella. You, Alexia, and Mapi had come to this small secluded beaches on many dates or with the team, so it was very special to take your son here for the first time. You were excited to create many new memories with your son here.

Once Mapi declared she had found the perfect spot you and Alexia set up the umbrella and the beach towels, placing a smaller towel for Hugo down at the end of yours in the shade. Mapi carefully laid him down, ensuring he was cool and comfortable. She also made sure to place his little beach hat on his head. 

“Don’t forget the sunscreen for Hugo, amor,” Alexia said as she passed it to you. “I read about how easy babies burn.” 

“Can I go play in the water now,” Mapi said looking at you as Alexia let out a snort.

“Go ahead, but stay where I can see you,” you replied laughing at your other ‘child.’

Alexia then laid down on her towel in the sun with a book as you sat Hugo up and let him look around and take in his surroundings for a minute.

~~~

“The water is the perfect temperature, let's dip Hugo’s toes in,” Mapi said as she came running back ashore.

“Get away idiota you are dripping water on my book,” Alexia said glaring at Mapi. 

“Both of you be nice,”

“Sorry,” they both said sincerely to each other

“Lets go pequeño,” Alexia said as she lifted Hugo up and started towards the water. You and Mapi followed behind hand in hand very excited for this moment.

Alexia slowly lowered Hugo’s little feet into the watered. His little face lit up into a bright smile and for the first time he giggled.

“Did he… did he just giggle?” Mapi asked.

“I think he did. That was the cutest sound I ever heard,” you replied.

Alexia had a bright smile on her face seeing her son's joy and lowered his feet a little further into the water. He kicked his little feet and giggled again.

~~~

As the day continued to unfold, the three of you introduced Hugo to more wonders of the beach. You sat him in the wet sand so the waves would reach his toes and he reached out to touch the sand and try to grasp it. 

“Look he grabbed his first seashell,” you said as he tried to pick up a small pink seashell from the sand.

The three of you took turns holding him and talking to him about all the different things at the beach. He even giggled again from Alexia’s lap when Mapi fell over when playing beach volleyball with you.

“Did mama fall over? It was pretty funny wasn’t it. Your mum is a lot better at volleyball isn’t she Hugo,” Alexia cooed.

“You come try to beat me then mamí, I bet you will fall over next. The sand is very uneven here,” Mapi shouted in Alexia’s direction as you got ready to serve the ball again.

“Your mama is very sassy, isn’t she Hugo,” Alexia says to Hugo who is now very interested in observing a nearby seagull.

~~~

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, you all decided to take a leisurely stroll along the shore, this time Alexia wearing the baby carrier. The sea breeze ruffled Hugo’s little hair. He was completely captivated by the vast ocean and all the wildlife he could see and hear.

As you strolled along the beach, you stopped at an ice cream shop to enjoy a cool treat. Hugo was far too young to eat any, but he watched his mothers in fascination, his tiny hand reaching towards Alexia’s cone.

It was the perfect end to an amazing day and you couldn’t wait to keep coming back here with your family.

[girlietips]

Hot Girls in Summer Know…

The difference between sleeping in and wasting a whole day. Get up and enjoy the day.

Water proof gold jewelry is the move.

A fake tan before you go tanning is optimal for getting a glow.

A clean room and open window is how the day should start and end.

To wear a swimsuit with thicker straps while tanning for clear tan lines (they are cute fight me)

Summer is the best time to declutter.

The joy in fresh flowers and farmers markets.

Minimal makeup >>> cakey makeup

Outside exercise is so much fun (+tanning+good weather+healthy girl)

Pedicure always done and manicure short and neat.

Braids with bows and bandannas>>>

Everything showers after tanning is pure bliss

Making bracelets and necklaces with friends while you watch bad romcoms

Eating way too much fruit.

Ice water with lemon

Wear a cap while you tan to prevent sunburn on the part of your hair.

To put glycolic acid on your arm pits to help with darkness.

Spray toners for after workouts and time in the heat.

Sunscreen always and everywhere.

Hot girl walks everyday.

Cute summer dates hit best with your friends and not guys.

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Title: Beaches and a dinner

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Summary: You and Kylian enjoy a day in Miami

Warnings: A bit of suggestive content but nothing explicit.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You stir from your sleep when you feel kisses planted on your upper back. One on your left shoulder blade, one on the nape of your neck, another one on your right shoulder blade, and finally the one placed behind your left ear pulls you completely from the clutches of sleep.

You turn to lie on your back and find your husband's smiling face hovering above you.

"Bonjour, mon amour," Kylian greets you as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Morning bébé," you respond with a hoarse voice.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Oui, and you?" you give him a sleepy smile.

"Oui," he pecks your lips.

Kylian knows you don't like it when he kisses you in the morning before you brush your teeth but he does it anyway. He lays his head on your breasts and your hand cradles the back of his head. You sigh as you feel him trace patterns on your stomach. You remain that way for a few minutes.

You stare at the window of the hotel where you can see the sun shining. You are in Miami for a much-needed vacation. Things have been hectic the past few months and you finally got a chance to take a break.

After a while, Kylian lifts his head to look at you, "you want to share a shower with me?" He asks.

"Okay," you say.

He lifts off the bed, pulls you with him and walks to the bathroom. He turns the water on and you both undress as you wait for the water to warm up.

But a shower is never just a shower with Kylian, and your moans of pleasure bouncing off the bathroom walls are proof of how much he craves you all the time.

After almost two hours, you walk out of the shower, balancing yourself against the wall cause your legs are still shaking from the steamy shower session.

When you are about to reach for a towel, a loud smack echoes through the bathroom and you feel a stinging sensation on your left butt cheek. Your head snaps to Kylian who has his hands on his waist and a proud grin on his face, water still dripping off his body.

He just spanked you.

You huff, squint your eyes at him and shake your head, not having the energy to scold him since he drained it in the shower.

You wrap a towel around your body and grab another to dry your braids. Kylian rips the towel around your body off and wraps it around his waist.

"Kyliaaaan," you whine and he laughs while exiting the bathroom.

When you finish getting ready, Kylian is dressed in a white tank top, orange shorts and an orange cap sits on his head.  You're dressed in black jeggings, a blue baggy t-shirt and a straw hat. Even though you are going to the beach, you've never liked showing skin, and although Kylian would love to see you in a bikini, the fact that what's underneath your clothes is strictly for his eyes only fills him with pride.

You grab a bag and put your phones, sunscreen, towels and anything else you might need inside. You head out of your hotel room and head to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. After eating you head to the beach.

Kylian is the most active of you two, going up and down the beach and taking pictures while you lay back on a sun lounger under an umbrella.

He throws himself on the lounger next to yours.

"Amour, you want to go in the water?" He asks.

"Definitely not. You know I can't swim Kylian," you say.

"Aww, come on. I'll be right there with you." He tries to convince you.

"Hm-hm," you refuse. "And besides, I'm still tired from the shower this morning. The water will just make it worse," you add.

Kylian snickers. You try to hit him but he quickly dodges. While he's an athlete with the stamina of a horse, you've never set foot in a gym so your lovemaking always left you worn out.

You close your eyes, trying to relax, but feel yourself being lifted in the air. Your hands automatically wrap around Kylian's neck as he carries you in the direction of the water.

"Kylian, what are you doing?" You shreak.

"Having fun with my wife," he grins at you, "we didn't come to the beach so you could sleep the whole time."

"Kylian," you call his name but he ignores you.

You try to get out of his arms but he's too strong. In no time, you feel the cold ocean water make contact with your body and you cling to him.

"Kylian!" you scream and he laughs.

He puts you down and the water reaches just below your bust.

"See, this is fun," he splashes you with water and laughs.

You try to act mad but can't hide the smile on your face. You end up playing in the water, splashing each other and Kylian chasing you all over the place. Your laughter echoes on the beach. This is the most fun you've had in months.

By the time you get out of the water, the sun is hanging low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange glow on the water. Your wet clothes cling to you as you take a few pictures of the scene. A breeze hits you and you shiver. As you look at the pictures you just took, a towel wraps around your shoulders.

Kylian rubs your arms over the towel as he stands behind you. He kisses behind your right ear and squeezes your shoulders.

"Are you alright, mon amour?" He asks.

You turn around to face him.

"Never better," you smile.

"Good," he kisses you. The kiss is long and salty due to the ocean water you both got in your mouths.

He breaks the kiss and pecks you multiple times all over your face causing you to giggle.

"Let's go, we have a dinner reservation at 19:00," he says.

He pulls you to where you left your belongings, and you pack up, then head back to the hotel.

When you arrive you take a shower, alone this time. Even though Kylian tried to join you, you locked him out of the bathroom.

By the time Kylian gets out of the shower you are already dressed. He whistles when he lays his eyes on you.

You are wearing a knee-length evening dress that hugs your body, revealing the curves that are constantly hidden under sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

Kylian walks over to you and grabs your waist before his hands fall to your curves.

"Amour, you look beautiful." He complements you.

"Thank you, my love," you blush.

He tries to kiss you but you put your palm against his mouth.

"Kylian, we are going to be late," you giggle at the confused look he gives you.

He rolls his eyes and steps away from you. He quickly dries himself, puts on lotion and gets dressed. He puts on the cologne he knows you like so much.

When you are both done, Kylian takes many pictures of you. He knows you don't dress up often so he wants to cherish this moment.

"Kylian let's go,"  you giggle as he keeps on snapping pictures.

"Just one more chérie," he keeps on saying.

An alert on his phone is what finally stops him.

"The car is here," he says.

"Okay, then, let's go," you say.

Kylian puts his phone and wallet in his pocket. You grab your purse in one hand and hold Kylian with the other.

The restaurant he takes you to is in the heart of Miami. It looks very posh so you assume a lot of celebrities come here.

"Reservation for Kylian Mbappé," your husband says to the host.

"Right this way," the man leads you to your table.

He hands you your menus and asks if you would like anything but you ask for time.

Kylian holds your hand across the table.

"Did you enjoy today?" He asks.

"Yes, I did," you say. You can't help the smile that spreads on your face.

"I'm glad to hear that," he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand.

"What about you, mon mari? We both know you needed this holiday more," you say.

"I did, and it's even better that you are here with me," he smiles.

You finally decide on what to eat and place your orders. You continue talking as you wait for your food, reflecting on the past few months and how much things have changed. How much your love has grown over the years.

Your food arrives and you dig in. You find yourself looking at Kylian and wondering how you got so lucky.

He lifts his eyes from his plate and catches you staring. He wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"What is it, amour?" He asks amused.

"Nothing. I'm just wondering how I got so lucky to find someone like you," you confess.

"I'm the lucky one here," he says.

"I love you, Kylian," you say wholeheartedly. "Even though it scares me sometimes, I wouldn't trade our love for anything."

"I love you too, mon amour. And I'm glad that out of all the men in this world you chose me to spend the rest of your life with," he kisses your knuckles.

You smile at him one more time before focusing on your food again.

"You know what? You are too far." You hear him say.

Kylian stands up, moves his chair from across you and places it right next to yours.

"There, that's better. Right?" He grins at you.

"Right," you laugh.

"Good," he pecks your cheek.

He pulls his plate in front of him, and you both enjoy the rest of your dinner, talking and laughing.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[euripidestrousers]

Can't get this AU out of my head, I need to let it out:

Muggle AU where Remus moves into a new neighbourhood. He notices his neighbour is almost constantly in his garage, working on his motorbike with the garage door open for fresh air. Remus, an avid gardener, is setting up his new garden beds and finds himself often glancing over to watch his neighbour work (he's impossibly handsome and Remus is just trying to figure out if he's real or a figment of his imagination conjured from lonelieness, alright?), and suddenly he's become incredibly clumsy.

The neighbour stretches his back, the tips of his fingers reaching the high ceiling and his shirt riding up - Remus fumbles the watering can and spills it all over himself. Neighbour lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead - Remus trips and dumps a wheelbarrow of soil on the driveway. The neighbour looks up and notices him one day and sends a friendly wave and smile his way - Remus promptly drops his sad, sick aloe vera plant into a bucket of water, sealing its death.

It's quite inconvenient, really, having a smoking hot neighbour who either doesn't seem to be aware of his good looks or doesn't care.

However, it comes in handy when his car won't start one day, and Handsome Neighbour hears the pitiful stutters of the engine and pokes his head over the low fence, asking if he needs a hand.

Remus promptly smacks his head on the open car bonnet and while he's busy protesting that he really needn't trouble himself as he gingerly presses the tender spot on his head, turns to find his handsome neighbour walking up the driveway. He grins, introduces himself as Sirius, and asks if he wants some ice.

"For the car?" Remus asks, bewildered and maybe a little concussed.

Sirius bursts into laughter. "No, uh, no, I meant for your head. Let me take a look."

"Oh, it was just a smack, I'll be right. No need to-"

"Actually, this time I meant the car", Sirius chuckles, peering into the engine.

Thus begins the horrible, embarrassing fumbles with Handsome Neighbour Sirius Black.

(It's entirely possible that Sirius keeps finding minor problems with Remus' car and offers to fix them for free just to have an excuse to chat to his shy, and frankly adorable, neighbour who is living proof that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because while he's always wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat along with 3 layers of sunscreen more fitting a retired senior, and always seems to be dropping something, he has a wicked wit and cutting opinions on national politics, and God, Sirius could talk to him for hours. Remus' car has had a full logbook service done by the time Sirius gets invited inside for a cup of tea and they kiss in the kitchen and fuck nasty on the counter)

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Sunscreen

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Javier Gutierrez x F!reader | WC : 1.4k | Proof read : kind of they said no plot lol | Masterlist | Notifications

Summary: PWP well maybe a very slight plot...ahem...a pool...

Warnings: SMUT, pool sex

A/n: I'm dyslexic, so some Spanish. My bilingual certificate is coming in clutch right now. Lol. Um… Mi Vida - My life and Mi amor - My love.

This is a part of @vivian-pascal's Bloom Writing Challenge. I'm so happy you've hit this amazing milestone. I love your work, and I highly encourage anyone who likes this story to check her out. Kisses to our sinful and joyful vi.

You pulled yourself out of the water, droplets cascading down your body, making your barely-there bikini cling to your skin in a way that left little to the imagination. The sun's rays warmed you as you walked over to Javi, who was engrossed in his phone. Without a word, you grabbed a bottle of sunscreen and approached him.

"Help me out?" you asked, your voice laced with a teasing edge.

Javi lowered his sunglasses, his dark eyes raking over your wet form. "Yes, mi amor, of course," he replied, his voice thick with desire.

You blushed under his intense gaze but stood your ground, shaking your head slightly. "Oh... I meant help me here." You squirted a generous amount of sunscreen onto your chest, then took his hand and placed it on the slick surface. Your lips curved into a seductive smile as you bit your lip, watching his reaction.

His eyes darkened, a flush creeping up his neck as he took in your bold move. His grip tightened on your arms, and with a swift motion, he pulled you down onto the sun chair beside him. His hands, now slick with sunscreen, began to move over your chest, spreading the lotion with slow, deliberate strokes.

"Mi amor," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "your skin... under the suit is so hot."

His hands slid under the straps of your bikini top, lifting them off your shoulders with practiced ease. "We wouldn't want any tan lines, now would we?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered as the straps fell away, his fingers deftly moving to the knot in the center of your chest. With a smirk, he untied it, letting the flimsy material fall away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Here," he said, his voice rough with arousal, "let me help you."

His hands moved over your bare skin, spreading the sunscreen with a tantalizing mix of tenderness and urgency. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored every inch of your exposed chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

Javi's hands roamed lower, fingers brushing over your stomach, tracing the lines of your ribs. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, a knot of desire tightening in your core. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, lips grazing your collarbone.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

He shifted, positioning himself so that you were lying back on the sun chair, his body hovering over yours. The sensation of his skin against yours was intoxicating, every touch igniting a fire within you. His hands continued their exploration, slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottom, teasing the sensitive skin near your hips.

Your heart pounded as his fingers traced the edge of the fabric, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the heat of his touch, the desire in his gaze, and the sound of your own breath, shallow and quick.

"Javi," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He paused, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Yes, mi amor?"

"Don't stop," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could think.

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a feverish kiss, feeling the heat of his mouth against yours, before grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back onto the chair. He giggled, "Careful, you'll break the chair."

You rolled your eyes and stood up, unafraid of your nakedness as you slipped off your bikini bottoms. "Like what you see?" you teased, moving toward him with a seductive sway.

Javi's eyes widened, taking in every inch of your bare form. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He sat on the edge of the chair, his hands on his head, eyes devouring you. Just as you thought he might pull you in, he surprised you by scooping you up effortlessly.

"Javi!?" you exclaimed, shocked as he carried you toward the edge of the pool.

"I've always wanted to fuck you in the pool," he grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation, before dropping you into the water.

Part of you wanted to strangle him, but the other part was thrilled by his boldness. You rose from the shallow water, your skin glistening in the sunlight. As soon as you did, he jumped in, the splash cool against your heated skin. You closed your eyes and opened them to see he'd taken off his swimsuit. His hands were on your hips, his breath hot on your neck.

"Ever been skinny dipping?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

You turned to face him, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his erection prod at your thigh. He wore a snarky grin before pushing you against the edge of the pool, pulling you in for a deep, hungry kiss. You gasped into the kiss, your hands tugging and pulling at his hair.

"I swear to God if you don't fuck me..." you breathed desperately, needing his touch.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. "With pleasure, my love," he replied, sliding his dick up and down your clit, the slickness building up until he finally entered you. You gasped, the lack of preparation making the stretch all the more intense given Javi's size. He kissed your neck, murmuring, "I'm sorry," as he started to thrust into you, the initial pain quickly giving way to pleasure.

Your hand gripped his shoulder, the water making both of you feel weightless. You used the buoyancy to help you bounce on his cock while he thrust into you, making you moan over and over. The angle hit that one spot where you needed him most.

"Javi..." you begged, your voice a needy whimper.

"Yes, mi vida..." he replied, almost in a trance.

You stopped bouncing, trying to get his attention. He looked worried for a second but didn't pull out; he always had trouble doing so, as if he would die in your pussy if he could. "From the back?" you suggested, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

"Of course," he grinned, flipping you over with more strength than most would think. After you stabilized yourself, he quickly shoved his dick back into you.

You let out a gasp as he thrust deeper into you from behind, the water splashing softly around you both. The new angle only intensified the pleasure coursing through you. You moaned, feeling your orgasm building rapidly.

"Faster, Javi," you urged, your voice hoarse with intense desire.

"Anything for you," he responded, thrusting harder and faster with every passing moment. The rhythmic motions created waves in the pool, tiny ripples spreading outward as you moved together.

"Javi, I'm close," you whispered urgently into his ear, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"I can feel it," he nuzzled your ear gently, increasing the pace of his thrusts, each one sending waves of pleasure through you.

Your orgasm grew closer and stronger, and soon your entire body tensed in anticipation. The pleasure became almost too intense to bear, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"JAVI!" you cried out, your body trembling as waves of euphoria washed over you, your climax shattering you into a million pieces. Your scream echoed across the otherwise tranquil pool, marking the end of your intense release.

As your breathing returned to normal, Javi slowed his thrusts, allowing both of you to revel in the afterglow. The water around you felt cool and refreshing, contrasting with the heat you still felt from your recent climax.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. "You're incredible," you whispered, your heart still racing.

He chuckled softly, his hands gently caressing your back. "All for you, mi amour."

You lay there together, the sun warming your skin, the cool water lapping at your feet. The world around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water and your own breathing.

Javi pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. The world could have ended around you, and you wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was the man beside you, the love you shared, and the incredible connection that bound you together.

[starryeyeddreamer21]

I'm at the beach and I hate it so Hazbin Hotel characters beach head canons:

Alastor: Does not want to be there. Reads the entire time and tries to pretend he's not with the group. Is five seconds away from drowning someone as soon as they get there. Was baited into having a sand castle building contest with Lucifer... He loses. Has a weird grudge against life guards. Also he's wearing the same suit he wears every day like he did not change clothes for the occasion.

Charlie: Doing her best to keep everyone civil. Has to remind everyone to put on sunscreen. WAIT 30 MINUTES TO SWIM AFTER EATING! Tries to keep everyone hydrated. Trying to be the mom friend and saving time to drool over her girlfriend is proving a challenge but she's great at multitasking. Is the only one that ended up sunburned because she was too busy worrying about everyone else

Vaggie: Not a huge fan of the beach but Charlie was SO excited. She's ready to drown Angel and Alastor at all times. Her and Cherri get WAY too competitive at volleyball.

Husk: Was forced to come. Hates the water. Sits in a beach chair drinking from a flask the entire time. Ends up playing volleyball because Angel can be very convincing. Is definitely not staring at Angel the entire time. Falls asleep a couple hours in and sleeps the rest of the time. Alastor definitely dumps a bucket of water on him to wake him up.

Angel: Loves the beach. He spends most of his time tanning/relaxing but he does go in the water for a little while. He only planned on going up to his waist because he didn't want to get all of his fur wet but Cherri makes it her personal mission to dunk him. Is kicked out of volleyball for being too tall. Smokes weed with strangers.

Nifty: Is absolutely obliterated by the waves she almost drowns multiple times... She's having a blast. She sheds a tear for every grain of sand that lands on her blanket.

Sir Pentious: Is so excited to go to the beach but as soon as he touches the sand he's ready to go home. He still ends up being buried though.

Cherri: Was invited last minute. She LOVES the beach. She talks so much shit during volleyball and unfortunately for everyone she can actually back it up. Dunks Angel and is shunned until they become friends with a bunch of weed smoking strangers. Buries Sir Pentious.

Lucifer: Having the time of his life. He's swimming, he's digging holes, he's amazing at volleyball, he befriends a seagull, and he crushes Alastor in a sandcastle building contest. He loves spending time with his daughter but uh oh he gets overstimulated and wants to go home now. He feels really bad about it. Even his duck floaty can't cheer him up.

Vox: Spends hours info dumping about sharks. He water proofed himself but still doesn't spend too much time in the water. The time he does spend in the water is him trying to catch creatures. His bathing suit is just covered in cartoon sharks velvette does not approve of this.

Valentino: Just tans the entire time. Probably tries to recruit people. Will NOT get in the water but will probably throw Velvette in. Ends up leaving with someone else early.

Velvette: Aesthetically pleasing pictures. Is only there to post about it and make people jealous. Val throws her in the water ruining her hair so she ruins every chance he has to recruit someone as revenge.

Also the vees are definitely those people blasting music from a speaker... like this is a public space c'mon now

[luvsellie]

omg arabella by arctic monkeys with ellie williams

— pairing modern!ellie x fem!reader | wc 0.4k | song + lyrics “that little lady sittin’ on the passenger side, it’s much less picturesque without her catchin’ light” (arabella by arctic monkeys) | note this song with ms williams, yes please !!!

“you should wear your hair like this more often,” you told ellie, leaning over the center console and tucking a stray strand out of her face. the warm, sinking sun illuminated her freckles, side profile lit aglow with orange light as she drove, and her wet, disheveled hair styled half-up half-down rather messily. you thought she looked good; looked like her.

she spared you a glance from the road, her right hand coming to find yours, and grinned. “maybe i will.”

although you both had left the beach nearly forty minutes ago, your bikini top was still damp, and sand clung annoyingly to your drying skin. while you were somewhat uncomfortable in your own body, wanting nothing more than to shower and wash away the salt water aroma that was still cohesively attached to the air, you adjusted yourself to be closer to your girlfriend. 

“good,” you replied, pulling your intertwined hands together and kissing the back of her palm. ellie’s tanned skin smelled of leftover sunscreen. she always burned too easily in the sun, especially on her shoulders. and as you glanced at where her cut-off sleeves ended, her exposed shoulders and upper biceps were indeed a dark pink, contrasting the green of her loose shirt.

you squeezed her hand sharply, brows knitted with abrupt disapproval. “i told you to apply more sunscreen when i went to go get us drinks!” she opened her mouth to argue, but you shook your head. “and before you try and argue with me, your shoulders are literal proof that you didn’t.”

ellie scoffed, her emerald eyes flicking to yours. “i did!” she added “i swear” after you shot her a skeptical look.

“well, clearly it wasn’t enough.”

she huffed out a heavy sigh before saying, “maybe you should’ve helped me then.”

there was a lilt in her voice, but you didn’t feed into it. “i would’ve had you waited, babe.”

“you told me to do it when you left!” she countered desperately, going to pull her hand pettily from your grasp with a displeased frown. but you held on tighter, resting your touching elbows on the center console.

her tattooed forearm pressed against your breasts, inked skin meeting the swell of your cleavage. you were sure she could feel your steady yet quickening heartbeat. “maybe you should’ve waited.”

ellie’s cheeks flamed when she noticed your teasing grin, but her confident facade didn’t break as she said, eyes on the black pavement ahead, “you’re right. maybe i should’ve waited.”

“damn right!” you snapped, leaning down to press your temple against her upper arm. she laughed—a deep, throaty chuckle, and you felt your smile grow bigger, enveloped in the benevolent sun that slowly disappeared behind the horizon.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[madebyrolo]

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘢𝘺 ོ

𝘑𝘫 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳

Y/n and Jj decided to have a beach date without the rest of their pouge friends. They love hanging out with them but they just needed a one on one day after everything they been through.

sort small blurb

not proof read/edited

⋆｡⋆｡° 𓆉*ੈ‧₊˚ ༘⋆

Y/n sat on her beach chair under an umbrella with hard lemonade in her cups holder. Y/n and jj decided to have a beach date taking time away from the group. They went to a public beach surrounded by family’s, friends and couples on vacation. The sounds of segals mixed with the different genres of music playing in the background including reggaeton, country and pop. The smell of sunscreen, saltwater and bbq filled their noses. Although it wasn’t the most peaceful setting they loved the community vibe. They needed some happiness and sun after everything with losing the gold.

Soon jj came back with food he got at a stand. He got them sandwiches and more beer.

“Here you go darlin’. I got you turkey” jj said handing her the sandwiches as he placed the beers in the cooler.

“Thank you love” she grabbed the wrapped paper that said turkey unwrapping it taking a big bite.

“Ooh these are so good oh my” she said with her mouth full.

“Yea maybe keep it in your mouth then..” he said with a small laugh.

Y/n gets her speaker playing the pouges beach playlist called “the bitch” with a picture of jj passed out on his surf board. Omar Apollo’s,“Kamikaze” started playing which cause y/n to immediately perk up.

“Oh my god he’s go good I can’t-” she put her sandwich in a sand free spot and got up turning up her music. She started dancing getting a few looks from people but she didn’t care. She was vibing.

“Alright y/n sit down and eat your sandwich.” Jj joked with her

“Fuck you boy, imma leave this state and never come back, never never come back.” She sang along. After the song finished she finally sat down finishing her sandwich.

After a few minutes jj got up grabbing her hand and leading them to the ocean. They had to zig zag through the groups of people but they made it to the coast. There were little kids in the shallow part, they walked passed them going waist deep into the water. The swam closer to now being shoulder deep floating in the ocean. They were farther away from the shore in a little more secluded area with just them but not too close to the surfers.

They swam and play fought in the ocean, splashing each other until one of them got pissed off. jj making sure y/n wasn’t floating or drowning as they got farther in. They floated at least 30ft above the sea floor engulfed in each other arms, jjs chin rested on y/n head. Just taking in each other presence and enjoying the peace and safety they craved.

“In a way I’m glad we lost the gold.” Y/n spoke

“Like don’t get me wrong I wanted the money but all the danger and drama that was in it wasn’t healthy.” she said as jj pulled away getting a better look at the girl.

“Yea I get it but it all would’ve been worth it if we got it.” Jj said trying to make her feel better.

“Laying in silk bed sheets on a California king, jaguars and lambos in our drive way. Endless refills of Budweiser given from our butlers.” He said with his eyes sparkling.

“Yea your paradise” she rolled her eyes.

“Still, mine or yours we would be happy and filthy rich. Full kook remember?” He said looking for a bit of happiness in her eyes.

“Would it though ? Rafe literally killed a cop, John b almost died? we were getting chased by death every. single. day. If we were to got it, who knows who would’ve went after us again.” she said as a small tear fell down her cheek.

“Even now with gold is gone. People are starting to believe John B killed Officer Peterkin. Ward with his power can put us all in jail. Or worse.” with another one trialing down.

“Hey hey hey- don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay, we have each other alright? I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He said pulling her into a hug.

“Let’s just enjoy the sun yeah? Happy wife happy life” he said giving her a kiss in the cheek.

“Wife?” She questioned. Yes they were boyfriend girlfriend but they haven’t been together long enough to even consider getting married.

“Yes my wife?!” He scoffed giving her kisses all over her face.

“Didn’t know we got married, must’ve missed it” she giggled return.

“Ah yes everyone was there, John b, Pope, Heyward catered. Even Rafe” he joked

“Rafe? Can’t believe he got the invite AND accepted it” she joked with him

“Yea, he was jealous, saw the tears in his eyes.” He said hinting about Rafes small feeling for you.

“Oh shut it, that was traumatizing. I rejected him and he actually looked hurt yet so angry. If you wouldn’t have gotten there in time who knew what he could’ve done. You saw what his did to Peterkin.” She pushed him away.

“I’m sorry my princess. I wouldn’t let him or anyone lay a finger on you.” He said pulling her back.

“You’re not going anywhere Mrs.Maybank.”

“Oh like you can tie me down ?” She smirked looking up at him.

“Oh honey I already have.” He retuned the smirk bringing her into a deep heated kiss.

“Come on let’s go home Maybank.” She said swimming towards the shore.

“Right behind you Mrs.Maybank.”

-time skip-

Jj and y/ns car came to a stop in John bs driveway. They followed eachother hand in hand giggling from the past convo they had in the car. As they made their way through the front door jj spoke up.

“JOHNATHAN ? SARAHHH?! KIE??? PROOPEEEE!?” He yelled out checking to see if anyone was around, throwing their nicknames in.

A couple seconds pass and no a single sound was heard.

“Hmm house to ourself. What to do, what to do….” He said looking around perusing his lips acting all innocent.

“Let’s head to the guest room, might as well take it before someone else comes home right?” she said playing his game.

“Might as well ya know?” His noses scrunched up.

Jj dragged y/n by the hand entering the room locking the door behind her. She turned towards the bed before jj quickly picked her up, legs around his waist and his hands holding her on her lower thighs slowly working their ways up.

“So what did you say about tying me up?” She said grabbing the side of his face.

“Better I show you yea?” She said throwing her on the bed.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Heard there was a jj fic drought 💋

maybe I’ll do a pt.2 with a smut lmk

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[lovebombs4life]

"Why should I wear anything at all if you're going to tear it off?" With Luke PLEASE

beach day - l.r.h

a/n: thank you for the request anon! on a different note, i got my lip pierced yesterday and holy shit does it hurt like a bitch.

cw: SMUT SMUT SMUT. contains content for audiences 18+. includes swearing, slight choking, praise, dom!luke, fem!reader, oral (m), p in v sex.

NOT PROOF READ

MINORS DNI. 18+!!!!

———

the hot summer sun beat down on all of us sitting on the beach. as much as i loved the summer and being at the beach, i did not want to be here when it was hotter than hell.

ashton could’ve chosen any other day of the year to go to the beach but no, we all had to go today on the hottest day of the year. not to mention that luke looked incredibly sexy, as per usual, but with the sun shining down on him, he looked good enough to eat.

i sat in my beach towel, still wearing my long cover up shirt. i finally threw it off, grabbing my bottle of sunscreen. luke had been in the middle of laying out his towel, and i could hear him take a deep breathe as i threw my shirt to the side.

you’d think after dating for five years he’d be used to seeing me in a swimsuit, but everyday with him feels like the first.

he sat down on his towel before laying down on his stomach. i had to clench my thighs together seeing him like that. what can i say, im a whore for his back muscles. plus, you could still see some of the light scratch marks i had left on him the other day.

i put my head down in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. i needed to get my head out of that space before i tried climbing on him then and there.

“you alright, y/n/n?” luke questioned with his head turned towards me. i nodded quickly and smiled at him. “of course! just really hot out.” i reassured him.

he smiled as he sat up to face me. “are you sure darling? seems like theirs something on your mind?” he pressed with a smirk on his face. my mind was screaming at me to give in to him and tell him already that i just wanted to go home and fuck him, but i wanted to do some teasing too.

i nodded my head again, standing up to go to the water where most of our friends already were. “hey y/n! nice of you to join us!” crystal teased me.

“oh shush. luke is being kind of a pain.” i said lowly. she raised her eyebrow, indicating she wanted to know more. i glanced back at luke, seeing that he was walking over to the group to hangout with the boys.

“he knows he has an affect on me of course. after five years we still act like we’ve never touched each other, and like we’re starved for touch.” i explained.

“ohhhh, okay so you’re horny and he knows but you don’t want to do anything cause we’re in public?” she questioned louder than i had hoped.

“shush! i don’t need everyone in the damn beach hearing, crystal!” i panicked. she threw her head back laughing, thinking it was hilarious. i rolled my eyes at her.

“you’re lucky i don’t push you into the water.” i spoke. she kept giggling as we made our way to the boys who had been splashing at each other.

calum was wrestling with michael as luke and ash just watched, laughing their asses off. i stood back a few feet so i wouldn’t get drenched. but of course, things couldn’t go my way. luke grabbed me quickly before running farther into the water and dropping me in.

when i resurfaced he was running away to go back to the sand. “you’re not getting away with this!” i yelled at him, swimming back to the land. i chased after him, holding down my chest as i did so. i knew as it is, my ass was almost completely showing as my bottoms had wedged their way up.

he had turned around and ran back to our towels, and i followed behind him. he had finally stopped and sat on the towels, catching his breath. “i couldn’t take running anymore, especially seeing how sexy you look in that bikini.” he whispered in my ear, grabbing my thigh. i giggled a bit.

“want to make an excuse to get out of here?” i questioned. his eyes widened, not thinking i was serious. “really? what would we even say?” he asked. i shrugged.

“say that my ankle started to hurt after running after you.” i shrugged. he nodded and stood up to tell our friends we’d be leaving. i started throwing our things in our beach bag. when luke returned he grabbed my swimsuit coverup and handed it to me. “why’d you give this to me? could’ve thrown it in the bag.” i told him.

“i just thought you’d want to get covered before walking back to the car.” he explained. i got closer to him, grazing his ear with my lips.

“why should i wear anything at all if you’re going to tear it off?” i teased. he threw his head back slightly, groaning quietly. i smirked, knowing i was in for it.

we walked back to the car quickly, throwing our things in the trunk. i settled myself into the passenger seat as luke started the car. immediately his hand was trailing up my thigh. i shuddered as he grew closer to my heat.

“nothing to say now that we’re alone? not gonna be a tease?” he taunted. i shook my head quickly, hoping he’d go further. “use your words, darling.”

“no, nothing to say, just want you.” i breathed out as he started to rub me through my swimsuit. i looked over at him, seeing his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. i could see the veins in his hand, wishing those gorgeous things were wrapped around my throat.

i shifted my legs so he could have more access from where he was. just as i thought it was going to go further, he pulled his hand away. i whined at the loss of contact. “no whining baby, just a few more minutes then we’re home.” he comforted.

i wasn’t one to listen, and whined again anyway. “do that again and you won’t cum for a week.” he spoke sternly this time. my eyes went wide, and i went quiet.

“yeah that shut you up real quick, is that right my sweet girl.” he praised. “yes.” i spoke softly. “yes? yes what baby?” he asked.

“yes sir.” i groaned. his smirk grew wide. we pulled into the driveway, scrambling to get out of the car. once at the front door, like quickly unlocked the door before throwing his keys on the side table. he pressed me to the door, holding my hips.

he went at my neck, licking and sucking lightly. i threw my head back at the feeling. he trailed his fingers down my waist, pulling my bikini bottoms down painfully slow. “please, please don’t tease lu.” i begged.

he lifted his head from my neck, looking down at me with a dark smile. “such a good girl for me. didn’t even ask you to beg.” he kissed me softly. once he pulled away, he pulled my bottoms from my legs, and went to untying my top.

his hips pinned me to the door, allowing me to feel how hard he was. “please luke, please no teasing baby i just need you, i want to make you feel good.” i pleaded. he let out a deep breath, squeezing my breasts as he threw my top on the floor.

i moved my hands down to the draw string of his swim trunks, untying it quickly. “want you so bad.” i said, lowering to my knees as i drug his shorts down his legs. his dick sprung out, the tip leaking with pre-cum. he stepped from his shorts kicking them to the side.

i grabbed his length, kitten licking the tip. i watched him through my lashes, seeing him throwing his head back. his hands found their way into my hair, gripping on to me. “feels so good, fuck, such a good girl.” he spoke, thrusting his hips forward a bit.

i gagged as his dick went down my throat. i breathed in, shoving him as far as i could take him. as i did so, he let out a loud moan. i pulled back from him, still pumping him. saliva hung from my lip as i smiled up at him.

“taste so good sir, love making you feel good, love your moans.” i breathed. he put a hand against my throat, squeezing slightly.

i moaned at the pressure and let one of my hands fall down to my dripping heat. before i could get any further, he helped me stand up, and lifted me up, bringing me to our bedroom.

he laid me down, rubbing his hands up and down my body. “so beautiful, darling.” he praised, kissing my body.

he spread my thighs, licking close to my clit. i moaned as he ran his fingers against my slit. i pushed my hips forward, allowing his fingers to slip in slightly. he held my hips down with his other hand.

“just wanna taste you a bit, get you ready for me.” he spoke, looking up at me from between my thighs. i shook my head fast. “just want you, don’t need you to get me ready. already so wet for you, sir, just need your cock.” i begged.

he groaned, grabbing his dick and sliding it against my entrance. he pushed in slowly, causing me to moan loudly. “doing so good for me, begging and being such a little slut for my cock.” he spoke, sucking on one of my tits.

his pace quickened, causing my eyes to roll back. “fuck, y/n, feel so fucking good. so wet, so tight, ugh, think youd be used to my cock already after fucking you so good.” he moaned. i let out a high pitched sound as he grabbed my thighs hard, pounding into me.

“oh fuck, i- gotta, ohh, gotta cum sir.” i moaned, trying to keep my composure. he forcefully snapped his hips into me, dragging one hand down to my clit, rubbing quick circles.

i let out a pornographic sound as he slammed into me. i clenched around him, my breathing becoming shorter. “go on baby, come on. cum for me, my sweet girl.” he encouraged, squeezing my throat.

i felt him twitch inside me, knowing he was close too. i kept clenching against him, letting my thighs shake as i moaned from the pleasure. his hips started stuttering, but kept his pace.

“fucking hell, oh shit!” he spoke as i felt his cum paint my walls. he pulled out, letting his fingers collect mine and his cum. he brought his fingers to my lips, and i opened for him, sucking everything off his fingers.

he sighed, taking in the sight. removing his fingers from me, luke laid down next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “god you’re perfect, y/n.” he spoke, pressing a kiss to my head.

“i suggest that you never wear a shirt ever again and just let me look at your back muscles.” i laughed.

“yeah? maybe i will if this is what the end result will be.”

[v-tired-queer]

IT'S THAT DAY MY FRIENDS

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

VOTE

✨V O T E ✨

Remember to double check where your polling place is and what times they're open today. This is a huge election and it's most likely going to be busy for a lot of places, so make sure you bring:

Your ID, voter registration, and/or other proof that you're you

Water/a drink

A snack

Something to keep you busy/entertained while you wait

An umbrella or sunscreen, depending on what your local weather is doing today

Stay safe today, everyone! ❤️🤍💙

[beefrobeefcal]

Imagine it’s like hot as hell, the guys are having a barbecue there’s a pool ect, ect. So Frankie has his shirt off and forgets that mouse scratched his back while they were getting a little wild in bed. Maybe Benny is like ‘damn, fish you get mauled by a bear?’ And Frankie is a little embarrassed and blushing.

A good prompt. A GREAT PROMPT!

I love a good pool party. And so does our fav chubby guy!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3----------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Unrestrained Summer Fun

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader (Mouse!)

Summary: After a night on the couch, Frankie has some explaining to do poolside.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 1,625

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), little bit of insecurity/self-esteem stuff, bikinis, sunscreen application, beer

Author's Notes: The Chubby!Frankie love is fabulous! It's shorter and was banged out in an hour and not proofed. Enjoy!

__________________________

“Frankie… oh fuck… baby… I-I can’t!!”, you cried out as he pounded into you.

Friday nights were usually reserved for cuddles on the couch with a good movie, but after a shit day at work and then being stuck in traffic on your commute home, you needed a release. Frankie, your sweet, gentle, soft, chubby guy, was now fucking that into you on the couch in your den.

“Come on, princess… give me another one… you can do it… come on, Mouse…”, he growled through gritted teeth.

He’d already pulled three orgasms from you, twice with his mouth and one on his cock while he fucked you from behind. He then changed positions; now you were under him, his weight pinning you down, as you gripped his shoulders while begging and pleading.

He continued his relentless pace as he leaned down, putting his full weight into every thrust, making you see stars. Circling your clit with his middle and index fingers, you arched your back, crying out as your nails clawed into his back, your fourth and final release ripping through you body.

“That’s it, princess… oh fuck… I got you, baby… so fucking good… so good… fuck… FUCK!”, Frankie moaned as he came into your tight, warm pussy.

He collapsed on top of you, both panting. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the raised marks you left from your nails.

*****

Will and Hannah were hosting a barbeque at their new house the next day. Given that it was going to be one of the hotter days on record, you were thankful that their new house had a pool, ready to be christened with a summer patio party. You had a cropped, loose t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts over your swim attire, and Frankie was in a white t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and chest along with his chubby middle and his swim trunks sat low on his hips to accommodate his protruding belly and muffin top.

You and Hannah had gone shopping for new bathing suits last weekend; when you modeled the neon pink string bikini you’d gotten yourself for Frankie, he had expressed his appreciation for it in the best way possible – slowly untying it then devouring you. Hannah had chosen a baby blue one piece with cut outs, and she already told you that Will showed as much excitement as Will could when he saw it.

Arriving at Will and Hannah’s around noon, you were ready to enjoy the sun and the cool water with your friends and family.

“Fish! Mouse!”, Benny called out from the pool when he saw you. Benny was splashing around, trying to soak Santi while he sat pool side. “Come on in - the water’s fine!”

You walked to the poolside to dip your toe in the water, feeling the perfect temperature for a day with that kind of heat.

“I’ll get in if you do.”, Santi said, looking up with a grin, thumb then pointing at Benny. “And we can take turns dunking this stupid fuck.”

You laughed and walked back to Frankie, taking off your shirt and shorts. A wolf whistle came from poolside, and you heard Benny yell, “That’s my fucking cousin, Pope, you perv!” at Santi.

Frankie glared at him, then saw Benny yank Santi into the pool with a loud yelp and splash. He shook his head and saw you smiling.

“Look at those big hands. You wanna help me with my sunscreen, big guy?”, you crooned, poking his belly teasingly.

“Mouse…”, Frankie warned as he looked you up and down, a blush creeping up his face.

“What? You want me to burn?”, you whispered close to his face as you ghosted your mouth over his lips.

“Oh, baby girl… what am I gonna do with you?”, Frankie growled, pulling you to close the distance between your mouths and kissed you, his hands gripping your waist.

Will cleared his throat behind Frankie as he came out of the house, causing you to step back and place a chaste kiss to the end of Frankie’s nose.

“Hey Fish… how’re you doing?”, Will said, looking just as embarrassed as Frankie as he clapped him on the shoulder. Turning to you, he continued, “Hey Mouse, how- Jesus, that’s not much of a swimsuit!”

You rolled your eyes, “Hey Will. It covers what it needs to.”, you jibed back.

Shaking his head with his eyebrows raised, he sighed and waved a pointed finger at you. “Make sure you have sunscreen on, because… yeah.”

Frankie got the tube of sunblock, pulled you to sit on the lounger in front of him, and began rubbing it into your back. When he finished his application – and groping - of your body, he grabbed your waist, pulled your back into his chest, and chided you quietly. “You’re a bad girl, princess. Wearing that and teasing me in front of everyone. You sure you wanna play this game?”

You batted your eyelashes at him and stood up. Smiling at him over your shoulder, you walked to the pool.

After about 20 minutes of having your fun in the water with Benny & Santi, Frankie wandered poolside with a beer in hand.

You looked up at Frankie and hopped up to sit on the pool deck, legs dangling in the water. Hannah came out in to join you, sitting down with her own beverage.

He squatted down next to you, offering you a sip of his beer.

“You look fucking amazing, princess. You ready to go yet?”, Frankie whispered as he wiggled his eyes brows.

You shook your head smiled at him, as Santi started calling out.

“You comin’ in for a swim, Fish?”, Santi cackled, splashing at Frankie.

“FISH! DO A CANNON BALL!”, Benny screeched.

Santi and Benny both splashed and chanted CANNON BALL! CANNON BALL! at Frankie. He shook his head and laughed. “Fucking children, you two!”

He stood and walked back to his chair, then removed his shirt with his back turned to everyone. You heard Santi bark out a loud laugh and Benny hollered out, “Jesus, Fish! You get mauled by a bear or something?”

You head shot up and turned to look at Frankie. Mouth agape, you saw the deep red marks you left across his wide back and shoulders as Frankie railed you on the couch last night. Your face went beet red; Frankie whipped around and looked at you, his face the same shade.

While he was a little worried about any potential teasing he would get about his growing belly or how much he ate, he was not prepared for this. He would have preferred they poke fun at his increased weight than point out your claw marks.

“It’s always the quiet ones! Atta boy, Fish!”, Santi called out, fist pumping into the air.

Hannah gasped and with a wide grin, nudged you. “Mouse… oh my god! You’re a fucking animal!”, she laughed with her eyes wide.

Will walked up behind Frankie, eyeing his back in confusion. “Fish, what did you do to your back? It looks like-“, Will stopped, realization hit him and his eyes went wide, staring at you. You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

Regardless of his strong friendship with and his respect for Frankie, Will still regarded you as his little, young, innocent cousin that he needed to protect. Benny, on the other hand, was a free spirit with sex and was the first person you told when you lost your virginity - nothing was too sacred with him as long as you were happy. Will was glad that you found that happiness with someone he knew and trusted, but it didn’t make it any easier when there were blatant displays of your sexual escapades in front of him.

“Fucking hell… Mouse…”, Will finally huffed with a headshake as he walked over to the barbeque to start cooking hamburgers.

“Girl. Really? It’s that good?”, Hannah giggled, leaning into you.

Before you could answer, a huge wave of pool water washed over the two of you from Frankie’s cannonball, followed by hoots and cheers from Santi and Benny.

Frankie popped up from under the water and swam over to you, hands on your knees and looked up. “Hey princess. You good?”

You were still red with embarrassment and Hannah laughed next to you. “Frankie, please tell Will what ever you did for those marks of honor. I need that in my life.”

“Hannah!”, both you and Will yelped in unison.

Frankie groaned, sinking into the pool, leaving only his eyes and nose peeking above the water line.

Santi and Benny swam over to Frankie, shit eating grins on their faces.

“Mouse… what the hell did you do to our Fish?”, Benny teased.

“Yeah, what did he do to you to deserve this abuse?”, Santi barked in mock-seriousness.

“Guys, come on!”, you whined. “Drop it!”

The guys pulled Frankie back out into the water, splashing him, and demanding he answer their crude questions. Frankie laughed, but the blush on his face remained.

“Seriously, Mouse.”, Hannah whispered to make sure no one else heard. “He’s that good? Hands, mouth, dick? Tell me everything! How many times did he make you come?”

Frankie watched you and Hannah giggle as Benny and Santi continued their barrage of questions. While he didn’t know for sure what Hannah was asking, he did see you respond with four fingers up on your hand before you hopped back into the pool. He had an overwhelming sense of pride at the shocked look Hannah gave you as you bobbed in the water.

“Four times, boys!”, Frankie shouted as he flopped back into the water. Benny and Santi cheered.

____________________________

TAGLIST:

@harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @theywhowriteandknowthings