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devotion · 11 months

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there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

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ode2rin · 10 months

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US, AGAIN .ೃ

pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader

genre. second chance (exes back to lovers!) | a bit of small town romance | a sprinkle of childhood friends to lovers (past) | angst with a happy ending

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again.

💭 flashbacks are italicized and indented :>

Six years.

In those six long years of his absence, you couldn't deny that you rehearsed countless scenarios of encountering him upon his return.

If by chance he still wanted to see you, or even look at you, you imagined giving him a small smile, a carefully crafted facade of composure, before gracefully walking away, as if life had moved on effortlessly for both of you.

That’s what you imagined. Just walk away, like how life went on for the both of you.

But reality never seemed to align with your reveries. The sight of him wasn't remotely serene enough to prompt a composed exit. Seeing him made your throat tighten, and your heart danced in a rhythm only he could create.

Six damn years had passed since you last saw him on that balcony, and now, with him back in town, avoiding him seemed like the only right thing to do.

You don’t know how long he’ll be here, but it is now your life mission to avoid him at all cost. Today's encounter was just an unfortunate event—an inevitable twist of fate. Their house was literally right in front of your family's, making it hard to escape the nearness of the past.

“So, he’s back in town?”

Hari's voice, your co-worker and now a dear friend, snapped you back from the reverie of yesterday's memories. The sound of her voice broke through the nostalgic haze, pulling you back to the present.

“What?”

“I asked if your childhood friend who is also a superstar slash professional athlete slash your only ex is back,” she mischievously asked, even miming quotation marks to emphasize each title she created.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her antics. Your gaze drifted to the freshly baked pastries, their delightful aroma greeting your senses like a warm embrace as you artfully displayed them on the shelves. The familiar scent of coffee and delightful confections used to calm you, but now it mingled with the storm of emotions inside.

“Yeah, it's basically the talk of the town. He's famous after all,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and still focused on your work, using it as a shield to hide your vulnerability.

But in reality, the sight of him earlier had caught you off guard, and you had turned the other way to avoid him. Your heart was still racing from the almost encounter, and the comforting ambiance of your coffee shop provided little solace.

“Did he see you?”

“I pray to all saints that he didn’t,” you deadpanned, your facade of composure beginning to falter.

“What did he look like now?”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to that fleeting glimpse of him earlier.

Far from what was once mine. “Good.”

“That’s it? Good?”

No. He looked gorgeous. He looked painfully gorgeous.

“What do you want me to say?” you countered, throwing a side glance to her persistence.

In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of how much he had changed. He looked undeniably handsome, lean, and with a certain maturity that hadn't been there before.

He… looked different.

And that's good—for you and for him. It meant that life there treated him well, and it eased some of the lingering guilt you carried.

You and Hari fell into a consuming silence, your backs turned away from each other. Even with closed eyes, you sensed that she wanted to ask something. You didn't want to initiate the conversation, but this suffocating silence had to go.

As you stepped behind the counter, you were met with Hari's concerned eyes and a voice laden with hesitation. “What are you going to do then?” she carefully asked.

You pressed your lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.

So you did what you do best: mask hurting with laughter.

“Is there anything I should do?” you paused, the sound of your fake laughter ringing in your ears. “It's been years. We made a choice.”

But Hari wasn't ready to let the matter rest, and you don’t know how to tell her you’re close to calling it a day. “You made a choice for him,” she countered gently, her tone filled with empathy.

Stunned was an understatement. Caught off guard would be an apt description. But speechless was exactly how you felt.

That, you couldn't mask with anything.

So you did what you weren’t best at: admitting the truth.

“And I’ll do it again,” you whispered in return. It was faint, because it was more for you than more of a reply to her.

You were both young, and half oblivious to what it would be like outside, where the world wasn’t painted in golden hues and the gentle waves were replaced by blaring cars.

You were both seventeen, young and living for the hope of it all.

But you lived for days like those – days where both of you just had to be kids still. No worries, no voices of what might come.

“Tell me about your dreams, Sae.” “Tch. You already know about it.”

You did. All of it, you knew. Since you were kids, no one knew him like you did. You were his lover and confidant. You knew about it, all too well and all too much.

“Come on!” you persisted, giving him an enthusiastic look. “The sky looks so pretty in this sunset, I want it to know about us.” The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Sae sat side by side in the sand. The sound of gentle waves caressed your ears, creating a serene backdrop for your beach date. He hesitated for a moment, looking out at the horizon. Then there it was, a glint of determination flashed in his usually reserved eyes. “To be the best striker in the world.” You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight. It was the first time you had seen such an unusual spark in his eyes. Sae's gaze was often cold and impersonal, but now it was as if stars were hanging in his eyes, reflecting the infinite possibilities of his dreams. Sae is handsome, mysteriously beautiful even. But this, nothing will beat how dreamy he looks when he speaks of his craft. You liked this look on him - so ambitious, so driven. It made your heart flutter with admiration. Seeing this glint in his eyes right now, you knew you wanted to do anything in your power to let it stay there.

And you did, you held on and held out. Until you turned nineteen, when you had let him go to the big cities where he rightfully belonged.

You smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile, and leaned in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you will be the best.”

Maybe you bit off more than what you could chew, but in the end, you’d do it all over again. Because what you did, the choice you made – it was for the best.

You were both nineteen, young and eager to grasp the world's offerings with hopeful hands.

But despite the certainty you tried to hold onto, there were nights when the memories tugged at your heartstrings like it did now. You knew it was the right choice, that you both needed to chase your dreams separately — especially his dreams. But it didn't erase the whispers of what-ifs that occasionally crept into your mind.

But life — life went on. Life never waits for anyone, anyway. And so, you worked diligently to craft a future that no longer had room for regrets.

But love leaves echoes, and his presence back in town stirred those dormant feelings. With him being in the same place, you felt like a stranger in your own town.

It was easier when he was thousands of miles away, an untouchable star on a different horizon. But now, with the universe conspiring to bring you close again, you couldn't help but feel like a wanderer in the galaxy of memories you built together.

After all, everything here in this town is about you and him.

Six years.

Was it that long? He couldn’t really tell. Maybe time really does pass fast when your life is falling apart.

It has been six years since Sae has sat on the balcony of his childhood home. And like the sick bastard fate was, he’s welcomed by the sight of your horrified yet still so damn fucking beautiful face.

Perhaps the saints you prayed to didn’t hear any of your pleas, because despite calling out to each one, Sae saw you.

There you were, a flicker in the periphery of his vision, desperately trying to avoid him. He was trained to be very aware of his field of vision, so there was no way he wasn’t able to notice your frantic leaving and the hurried closing of your house’s door as you noticed him.

He let you be, holding back the overwhelming desire to call out your name like he used to when both of you were running late to class. He let you be, because if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t know how to look you in the eye without a thousand words reflecting on his own.

[Attention, everyone. This is the final boarding call for passengers of flight 924 to Madrid, Spain. Again, this is the final –] “Sae, you’re going to miss your flight. They’re not coming.” No. “They’re not coming, Sae. You have to get on the plane.” No. No. Shut up.

He needed you there, more than anyone. A thousand people could cheer and show up for Itoshi Sae, but his eyes will always search the crowd for just one — just yours.

Yet, alas, you were nowhere to be found. And so, that very same day, Sae vowed to never come back to this place.

He hated this town and you, he’s convinced.

Sae had always been indifferent to a lot of people, everyone knew that. But never in a hundred years would anyone who knew you both think you’d be on that list. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe it either – until that day you decided not to show up when you promised you would.

He wasn't stupid. He had an inkling of why you did what you did. Yet, irrationality overpowered reason, and all he wanted that day was to run the distance between the airport and your house – to see your face, to remind you that he had plans, plans for both of you.

When Sae’s manager informed him that he needed to come home for a while to renew his passport, it was as if all of his suppressed recollections of this place – of you, came pouring out to his soul all at once.

Every street, every corner, every memory — they all threatened to consume him. His family, Rin, this town, and you – you were all the things he left behind for the dream.

Dream. Best Striker in the world. What did it even mean? Long ago, he thought he knew.

But it had to work. Everything had to work. He lost you for this dream. And if he loses it too, then what does that make him? A sore failure. And Sae was never known to be admissible to failing.

Whatever hell he encountered on the other side of the world, he swore he would never return home. Even when he was traversing across a path to ruin of being the person he thought he would be, he would never ever choose to come home.

Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, but home.

So there he was, the renowned glorious prodigy of japan. He was close to everything after countless mishaps.

He’s getting closer and closer to the new dream yet getting farther and farther away from home.

Home. What does it even mean? Lately, he doesn’t even know.

And after that day, no one ever mentioned your name to him. No one in his new world knew about you. No one knew how Itoshi Sae's world used to revolve around someone's soft smiles and easy eyes.

He never asked anyone not to mention you; he wasn't one to ask, after all. But for some reason, no one dared to. Not even Rin. It was as if one mention of you in his presence was a carefully crafted brick used to make his castles crumble to the ground.

He hated that, but maybe they were right. Because with just a second's worth of a glimpse of you from earlier, Sae indeed felt his castles crumbling, piece by piece.

He hates you, for making his resolve crumble. For being the one person who can make his vow to never look back fall apart.

He hates you, because everything in this forsaken place is about you and him. Memories of your shared youth are etched into the very walls and streets, haunting him like ghosts of a past he can't escape.

He hates you, for not trusting you two would work it out somehow, and for giving up before the game even began.

He hates you, because it was easier that way. Easier to pretend he didn't care, that you didn't matter, and that you were just another soul he knows a little too much of.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more, and yet he knows, only one of it was true – and that he hates you for making him convince himself that he does, just to cope with leaving half of his heart to the only place he vowed never to come back to.

It was a jinx to say that yesterday’s encounter was already an unfortunate event, because today, you literally learned a whole new degree of unfortunate and unlucky – by having Itoshi Sae as your first customer of the day.

“Welcome! How may I help you toda— S-Sae.”

And to even top it off, today was Hari’s day off. It meant that you’re currently alone in the same confined four-cornered room with the person you swore you would avoid like it’s your life mission.

Damn it, Hari. Of all days. Her day off really had to be today.

Itoshi Sae, in the goddamn flesh, is standing in your place two meters away from you, yet you’re having a hard time feeling your feet on the ground and your heart beating so damn loud.

He wasn’t looking at you (thank god), and had his eyes exploring the place with a neutral expression playing on his face. Suddenly, you feel like sixteen again back when he was looking at the first set of cookies you’ve ever baked and you were dying to hear what he thinks of your craft.

“It’s yours?”

You gulp.

You gulped down the urge to tear up with how much his voice changed. You gulped down the urge to cry because he assumed you had your dream turn into reality too.

“Yeah,” you replied in whisper, your eyes following where he was looking, trying to avoid any chance it will meet his, “it’s not much but —”

“It’s beautiful.” Even before Sae could hear your meek comment of yourself, he cut you off.

You were always like that —downplaying your hard work, belittling yourself even before someone does. He hated that about you.

He used to get mad at you for it, especially when someone made fun of you at school and you didn’t defend yourself. He always makes you cry whenever he points it out, so he stopped. Instead, he made it his role to rebuild your confidence. Sae wasn't known for being generous in compliments. It would probably take one hand to count all the instances that he genuinely called someone along the lines of not dumb, stupid, lukewarm.

But it was never the case with you. With you, to say beautiful was always a second nature to Sae's tongue.

And he wasn’t lying though. Your coffee shop was really charmingly cozy, and so like you. It’s so much alike to what you used to tell him how you envisioned it would be.

The coffee shop was a quaint haven nestled right at the edge of the sandy shore. Its exterior, adorned with weathered wooden panels and soft, warm hues, exuded a rustic charm that welcomed passersby with open arms. Sunlight spilled through large windows, casting gentle rays that danced upon the vintage, mosaic-tiled floor.

It’s beautiful, and it’s in front of our place. He wanted to say to you, but he stopped at beautiful not wanting to make things more awkward than it should.

The coffee shop, it’s right in front of the beach. It’s in front of that one spot you and him used to call ours.

It’s the first thing he noticed before coming inside, and it made him wonder whether you knew or he’s the only one who remembers it even now.

Bashful, you uttered a silent thank you to his remark, “What would you like to order?” you followed up, trying to maintain composure despite your heart racing in your chest.

Noticing that he’s been too silent for someone who’s about to order something, you looked up to your menu, and immediately, you understood his silence. If one were to point out, it is too immediate for someone who’s almost strangers to each other.

“We have non-caffeinated drinks too,” you hurriedly said to him, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to break the spell of awkward silence.

He gulps, his eyes locked with yours in a moment that felt like eternity.

He can’t drink coffee, it ruins his body clock, and you knew that. You still know that.

It appears that he's not the only one who remembers, after all.

A thousand emotions danced in his eyes, each one a testament to the love that once blossomed between you. The coffee shop, once a quaint haven, now felt like a crucible of emotions, and the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of what could have been.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn't look away, despite the rush of memories and unspoken words flooding your mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and you were once again those young souls who found solace in each other's presence.

But this was different, much more complicated. The past was a turbulent sea, and even though you had both moved on with your lives, there was still a deep, lingering connection that couldn't be severed.

Yet, you knew better than to let those emotions take control. You made a choice, you have to stand by it.

You were no longer the naive teenagers who believed love could conquer all. Reality had taught you both harsh lessons, and the wounds of the past still lingered, threatening to reopen with each stolen glance.

“I’ll have your best seller of it then,” he finally broke the silence, his voice steady despite the tempest inside.

With a nod, you turned to prepare his order, your hands trying to steady themselves. You couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the tremor in your fingers or the way your heart seemed to echo in every beat.

As you handed him his drink, your fingertips brushed lightly against his hand, and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

He took the cup from you, and for a fleeting moment, you both lingered, almost as if neither of you wanted to let go. He could stay in this, playing pretend. Pretend none of it happened, pretend he never left, pretend it worked out in the end.

But he can’t, not when you stepped back first, breaking the contact between you and reminding him of the choice you made.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, his voice softer now, filled with a hint of something even he couldn't quite decipher.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand. He turned to leave, and you watched him walk away, every step taking him farther from the life you once shared.

Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there existed a version of you who chose differently, who stayed intertwined with him in a tale of love that defied all odds. But here, in this reality, both of you were no longer who you used to be.

In this universe, you're just some two ghosts standing in the place of you and him, haunted by the memories of what once was while trying to remember what it feels to have a heartbeat.

After Sae’s visit yesterday, saying that you weren’t doing fine would be a gross understatement.

Your emotions were all over the place, and you couldn't seem to find a stable ground for your thoughts. It didn't help when your parents casually mentioned that he was leaving town later today. Apparently, Mrs. Itoshi had a little gossip session with the neighbors, unknowingly revealing a piece of her oldest son's business.

He’s leaving, and that's good—for you and for him.

As you stood behind the counter of the coffee shop, you absentmindedly glanced out the window, your eyes drawn to the beach. The sight of the shore brought back a flood of memories.

Maybe in another life, the two of you could still dance along the sandy shore, playfully splashing water at each other. He would chase after you, catching hold of your waist as he sweeps you off your feet. And perhaps, just perhaps, you would have the chance to embrace him tightly once again, with your arms wrapped around his neck while you share a kiss as greedy and fiery as the sea’s yearning for the moon.

And maybe, in another life, your story wouldn’t end with both of you being strangers who know a little too much about each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks until Hari whispered, “Y/N... you're crying.”

“Oh, I am,” you admitted, trying to regain your composure.

Your heart lurched as you tried to suppress the tears, but they kept flowing relentlessly. “Hari…” you whispered, shocked by your own emotional outpouring.

Hari's eyes reflected pity as she watched you, her voice soft and understanding. “Go,” she encouraged, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Get your man. I'll take care of everything here.”

The words hit you like a lifeline, a spark of hope igniting within you. You quickly removed your apron and grabbed your keys, determined to catch him before it was too late.

But before you could dash out, Hari's voice echoed through the shop, loud and clear, “Go! Be happy! And for the love of god, no more sacrifices as a love language!”

With one last glance at her and your coffee shop, you rushed out the door.

The airport seemed like a maze of bustling strangers as you frantically searched for the departure gates. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the fear of missing him consuming you.

Desperation and determination fueled your steps as you approached the flight attendant, your voice trembling, “Flight to Spain — I need to know about the flight to Spain for today.”

The attendant looked at you with sympathy, “I'm sorry, but all flights to Spain have already left. The last one left twenty minutes ago.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn't give up that easily. “Can you check again? Please. I-I need to see him. Please.”

The attendant double-checked, but the outcome remained unchanged.

Twenty damn minutes. You lost him in just that short amount of time.

Your heart shattered as you realized you had missed your chance. The desperation in your eyes was evident as you felt your world crumbling around you.

In the midst of the bustling airport, you allowed yourself to grieve for what could have been and for the chances you never took.

Six years ago, you were supposed to be here. And maybe if you did, you wouldn't find yourself six years after, wishing you did things differently.

The drive back felt like the longest journey of your life.

The sinking sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as you approached the familiar place. As you got closer, you noticed that the shop was already closed, and you assumed Hari had taken care of everything.

But what caught you off guard was the sight of Sae standing there, in front of your place, with a suitcase by his side, as if he were meant to be on a flight rather than standing there.

“You're here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you got closer.

“I’m here.”

“Why didn't you leave?” you asked.

Because I’m done convincing myself that I hate you, Sae hesitated to say. “Why did you go to the airport?” he countered instead, avoiding your question.

Because I’m done telling myself that I did the right thing.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but the words were caught in your throat. You bit your lip, not ready to answer his question just yet.

Impatient and desperate, Sae took his chances to ask you the only question that mattered to him at this point, “Tell me you don't love me anymore. I will go. I will do as you please. I just need to hear it from you.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden question, but Sae wasn’t done yet. “Answer me. It’s a yes or no question.”

Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't hold back the torrent of words that poured from your heart.

“A yes or no question, you say? Every night, I think of you.”

With each word, your voice wavered, and you couldn't help but express the worries that had plagued you during his absence.

“Were you eating properly? Does the food there suit your liking? You’re a bit picky. Is it too hot there? Were you taking your supplements? Were you being hard on yourself again? Is... is there someone new? There must be, right?”

As the words left your lips, you realized just how much you had been consumed by thoughts of him, wondering about every aspect of his life, even when he was miles away from you.

His reaction to you holding forth seemed to intensify at your last question, but right now, you weren’t ready to listen to him. He needs to listen to you.

“Every single night of the past six years, I yearned for you. I yearned to have you close. I yearned to hold your face just once more. And fuck, I would’ve traded all my tomorrows for just one yesterday with you.”

With those words, the floodgates of emotion burst open, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

Fuck, six years. For six years, you held on and held out. Would it have been easier if both of you had tried, and along the way, lost? Would it have alleviated the pain of what-ifs and what could have been's if you had bargained, if you had gambled? Or would it all have led you right back to this moment, grappling with the same heartache and uncertainty?

Finally, meeting his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions in his. But you weren’t done yet.

“And you dare ask me if I love you. Well, does that answer your fucking question, Itoshi?”

“Then, don’t cross it out. Don’t ever cross it out again.”

Cross what…out?

“I saw your letter,” Sae admitted, causing a momentary confusion to wash over you.

My letter… Bewildered, you couldn't form the right words, and he took it as a sign to continue, and to close the distance between you to hold your hands.

“Tell me, how could I leave after reading that, knowing the only soul who truly knew me was here? You own me, Y/N.”

“I told you countless times before, you own me,” Sae reaffirmed, his grip on your hand tightening as he drew it closer to his lips, planting tender kisses upon your skin.

“There was no one,” he continued, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. “And there's no other warmth comparable to yours that I'd ever let myself bask in. And if there's any, I'd be only fooling myself, pretending it was you instead.”

Sae's voice grew softer, yet resolute. “You own me, even when I'm on the other side of the world. You own me, Y/N. Even in the distance that separated us, even in the years that you claim I'm not."

He stepped closer, his eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “No place can ever own me as much as you do. So, don't ever cross your I love you's to me. I want them – all. I don't want your sorry's.”

“But I’m sorry,” you whispered, for the last time. But Sae gently wiped away your tears.

“It's ‘I love you’ from now on.”

For a moment, you both stayed like that, trying to make up for the lost time. Sae, much like you, dreamed of the day he gets to hold you close once again. He dreamed of a day he gets to watch the sunset from the reflection of your eyes again.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more reasons why he shouldn't be standing here, and yet he knew, only one of it was true – and that he hated himself for convincing himself that he shouldn't be here – to you, in his hometown.

Sae may have vowed to never come back to this place, but it was always a lie, because for all he knew, it's the only place he truly belonged. Half of his heart was left here, with you.

“Come on,” Sae said, and you followed him, curiosity in your eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“There,” Sae pointed to the beach, your spot, specifically. “To our place. The sky looks pretty, and I want it to know about us, again.”

“Us... again?” you asked hesitantly.

“If you would take me back.” Sae answered, a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he might be assuming this second chance for the two of you.

You took his hand in response, and squeezed it three times. “I want nothing more than to be with you, again.”

Without any more words, Sae gently cupped your cheeks, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The touch of his fingers was both familiar and new.

In the fading light of the day, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you leaned closer to each other, your breath hitched as his warm breath mingled with yours.

His lips were soft against yours, and as they moved with a tenderness that mirrored the way he held you, it was as if he was trying to convey everything he had ever wanted to say to you in that one, passionate moment.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. It was a kiss that spoke of all the words left unsaid, of all the nights spent missing each other, and of all the dreams of a future together.

Feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks, Sae pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – here.

To you, in his hometown.

💭 thank you for the request saetorinrin! (i owe you a lot for your patience i guess..)

note. hi. if you’ve been here before, you might know that i hate this trope with a burning passion, i just can’t write it for the life of me. i started this in may (and only had the guts to finish it this month lmao), i was so tempted to delete everything and start from scratch (for the nth time) but i think i owe it to myself to retain most of what i wrote when i was stranded on an island xd this isn’t my best, that, i know for sure. but i hope you’ll still like it !

💌 if you reached this part, and you want to know about reader’s letter that sae’s was referencing, here it is. you may or may not read this, it won’t really matter. but if you want to, click until the end :>

💭 back to: milestone event

#☁️ my ode to you #first milestone event!#writing: 003 #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae angst #blue lock angst

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the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

The False Alarm

TF141+/Reader TW: gangbang --- MDNI/18+ AO3 Link

Cleaning a long, hard pole was slippery business, and at your fire station, it was a particularly dangerous job. You had to be small enough to fit into the harness, but strong enough to self-belay, shining the gleaming gold rod as you traveled downward, repelling to the floor.

So, imagine your frustration when you were left to clean by yourself while the rest of the house responded to a three alarm fire. You tried to make quick work of it, but there was a lot of pole to tend to, and you didn’t want to miss a spot. A dirty pole was bad news for everyone who needed to ride it. Safety first.

It was all going pretty well until you neared the end of your job. You were about to lower yourself to the last section, your feet nearly able to touch the ground when you lost your grip on the rope attached to your harness. The clip liked to jam, so you tried to get it unstuck, but you realized pretty quickly that it was solidly knotted against you. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. To make matters worse, you were leaning at an odd angle, having tried to reach down to grab the radio that had been knocked to the ground when you lost the rope. But, it was flung too far, and you quickly discovered that it was way out of your grasp. At this point, you looked like a Christmas ornament, hanging loosely in your harness, swaying slightly around the pole. The only thing to do now was wait.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for help. The three alarm fire had been a false one, and all of the men had returned rambunctious but unharmed. Your boyfriend, Captain John Price, was the first one through every door, and he was the one who discovered you in your trapped state. His eyes lit up in shock, and you heard his gravelly laugh as he approached you. Behind him, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish and his Lieutenant, Simon Riley, began to strip their gear for Gaz, the firehouse quartermaster. They were laughing right along with Price, jeering at you in your trussed up position.

Price spun you around toward him, and you came face to face with his bulging zipper. You were at the perfect height, staring right at his crotch, and he had to bend down to look you in the eye,

“In a bit of a predicament, pretty girl?”

You weren’t sure you liked his tone. It was lurid and suggestive, especially in front of his men.

“Latch is stuck. I’ve been telling you to replace it.”

“Which one?” He knelt underneath you to fiddle with the harness, “This one?”

He tugged at the rope and moved it between your legs, purposefully shoving it out of alignment.

“John!” You hissed, feeling the thick rope, as big around as one of his fingers, slip across your cotton pants and into the crease of your pussy, rubbing along your clit mercilessly.

“Mmm, I kinda like you like this, love. Might have to make you a permanent fixture. What d’you say?”

“Get me down, babe. Please?” You resorted to begging. It didn’t help.

“Oy!” He whistled loudly, “Come look what we caught on the line today, boys.”

All six of the other firefighters sauntered over to you, jeering and laughing.

“Wee lass is truly stuck?” MacTavish asked.

“Aye, look,” Simon smiled, showing him the latch, “She used the old clamp.”

As he stuck his finger underneath it, it tugged on the rope next to your clit, making you writhe.

Gaz laughed behind them, bending over from his glee,

“Ha! Guess the captain didn’t tell you he bought a new one.”

“Count your blessings, compa,” Vargas grinned, clapping a hand over Price’s shoulder, “Maybe we should leave you two here, hm?”

“I was about to dig into Johnny’s homemade chili, but now I’m hungry for something else,” Alex crossed his arms and shook his head as if in disbelief.

You tried to look to Price for some guidance. The boys flirted a lot, but it was mostly harmless. This felt… different somehow. There was something predatory in their stares that made your body feel like it was ablaze.

Price ran a finger along the rope that now stretched between your asscheeks and through the folds of your pussy, biting into your pants.

“Shouldn’t let such a bloody good opportunity go to waste, huh, lads?” Price’s voice sounded like an invitation, and you felt all the air get sucked out of the room.

You were parallel to the ground; face down, ass up, right in front of all of them. You were trapped, surrounded by seven enormous men, and all you could see were their legs from their belt buckles to their boots. You knew who they were; you’d been friends for years, after all, but it didn’t feel so friendly now. You felt like their prey.

You watched Price kneel beneath you. He smiled sweetly at you and whispered,

“You trust me, pretty girl?”

You nodded, and brought your hands up around his neck to kiss him. His mouth melted into yours, sending static tingles of pleasure though the rest of your body. He kept kissing you while his men stood around you, watching like dogs as Price literally dangled their treat in front of them.

Then, he pulled away, standing up in front of you. You felt his fingers digging under the bottom of your shirt hem, and he tugged off your tee shirt, exposing your body to his team. Your breasts were contained only by a thin cotton bralette, and at this angle, they hung away from you as you swayed in your harness.

Price took the bra off of you and bent to suckle from your nipples, licking and biting them gently to make you moan with sharp desire. You suddenly felt a hand that wasn’t his on your ass cheek and you gasped. Price chuckled, fondling your breasts with his huge, callused hands, teasing you,

“Are you shy, baby? It’s just MacTavish. You know he gets handsy.”

“Sorry, lass,” you heard the Scot behind you as he squeezed your ass and thighs, pulling them apart from your center, “Couldnae resist. Look good enough to eat.”

“Dig in, Sergeant,” Price offered you up like an appetizer, and tossed Johnny his emergency shears.

Your eyes went wide,

“John! My –”

“I’ll buy you another pair, love. Now, let’s give you something else to do with that mouth, why don’t we?”

You felt the cold metal of the blunt shears as Johnny cut across your waistband and down the crease between your legs, letting the shears do the work for him. He knelt to slice around to the front and then pulled your pant legs off of you, leaving you hanging there in nothing but your flimsy thong.

He situated the rope back into position between your thigh and groin so that it wouldn’t bite into you, and then you felt his mouth. You groaned loudly. You couldn’t help it. It felt like heaven to have him licking and sucking at your tender flesh, writhing his tongue into your already soaking hole.

“Listen to that sound. So damn pretty,” Price pet you on your cheek and stuck his thumb into your open mouth as you keened, the pleasure building within you like a smoldering blaze.

You heard his buckle rattle open, and the whine of his zipper led to the quick release of his cock, hard and smooth. He pressed his head to your lips and you kissed it gently, licking around its crown hungrily. Unwilling to waste any time, he pushed into your mouth, rubbing himself deep enough to touch the back of your throat. You listened to his delicious moans and tried to take him in as much as his girth would allow.

Then, MacTavish added a finger, stretching the walls of your pussy with it ever so gently, and you felt yourself starting to come. You were shocked by it, and it overwhelmed you so suddenly you knew that you were in for a turbulent storm of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, tha’s it, love. Come for us,” Price commanded, “Such a good girl.”

Your whole body trembled, unable to press or brace against anything as you hung suspended, and you heard Johnny moaning as he felt you contract with pleasure, listening to the muffled screams he was pulling from you as you were trapped around the captain’s cock.

Price’s hand fisted your hair, guiding you down, grunting with each thrust. Then, he removed himself, stepping around to the side of you and placing one of your hands on his wet shaft. You started jacking him off, confused until you saw another pair of boots below your face.

It was Alex.

Price’s hand was still in your hair, and you felt your face being lifted up to view Alex’s long cock. He let it rest against your cheek, its warmth teasing you in a surprisingly comforting way. You used your tongue to lick up and down his generous length.

Alex moaned,

“Fuck… No wonder you rush home from work, Captain. Holy shit.”

Price chuckled, releasing your hair so that Alex could do as he pleased with you,

“She’s bloody brilliant, aye?”

You felt something tugging your body backward, and you knew Johnny had moved beneath you because his mouth was punishing your clit, making you want to come again. You moaned around Alex, making him cry out as well from the feeling.

Then, you felt the tell-tale prod of someone’s cock nestling itself against your wet hole. Surprised, you tried to pull away from Alex to look behind you. Alex grabbed your head before you did, though and forced your mouth back down,

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, sugar. It’s just Garrick. Lookin’ like he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get to fuck you right this goddamn second. Ain’t that right, Gaz?”

“Fuckin’ right,” Gaz grumbled, feeding himself into you as Johnny ate you out.

You thought you might die from the pleasure. You came around him as he entered you, forcing him to stop. You were bearing down so hard that you thought you might accidentally wet yourself. You tried to get it under control, riding wave after wave of your orgasm as Johnny sucked your folds and fondled your clit.

“Tha’s beautiful, lass. Your poor wee cunt doesnae ken what to make of all this, hm?”

“She’s being such a good girl, Cap. Takin’ me so well,” Gaz crooned, reaching forward to rest his big hands on your hips as he began to thrust in earnest.

Every time he pushed you forward, you would swallow deeper onto Alex’s cock, and Johnny’s tongue would rush through your folds and across your clit.

Suddenly, your other hand was being given a task to complete. It was Alejandro. He had taken your hand in his and bent to kiss your knuckles, soft and sweet as if you were a princess. Then, he let it rest on top of his uncut cockhead, allowing you to find a similar rhythm for him as you had for Price, rubbing his rod as steadily as you could manage.

Alex increased his pace, grunting like an animal as he fucked himself into your throat. Price encouraged him,

“Don’t feed it to her, Keller. She wants it in that sweet cunt of hers, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You felt Gaz and Alex pull away from you at the same time, and you gasped, agonized by the hollowness that you were experiencing. Then, a warm hand braced against your ass cheek, squeezing you fiercely, and Alex pressed himself in where Gaz had been steadily putting in the work.

The new sensation of another man’s cock was incredible, and with Johnny eating you like he was starving, you had no trouble coming with Alex as he pounded himself into you mercilessly. His guttural screams were tantalizing, and you wished you could see his face.

“Fuck! Oh, my God – Fuck!” Alex grunted through gritted teeth, holding onto your body as tight as he could, filling you full of his come.

As he fell away from you, Gaz replaced him, getting back to his mission dutifully and with renewed vigor, slipping through the other man’s come easily. Johnny moved up your body, kissing your belly, sucking on your skin, finding your nipples as they jiggled while Garrick was fucking himself into you, and you watched someone new come up to your face.

Simon bent down to kiss you, biting your lip and tasting his friends on your tongue. He licked your neck, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. He joined Johnny at your breasts, suckling from the opposite one as the eager sergeant.

Just as you were being lulled into an orgasmic trance from their ministrations, you felt Gaz shudder. He came breathlessly, gasping out quiet moans and little yeses and pleases and wordless prayers as he started to spill out into you. His cock reached further than Alex’s, and you felt a different sort of fullness as he held himself inside of you, throbbing against your cervix, tickling the entrance to your womb.

You felt his plump lips leave a trail of kisses along your bare back, and then he pulled away from you, letting his and Alex’s come drip onto the concrete floor below you.

Simon and Johnny stood, each taking their place at your throat and your pussy, entering you at the same time and letting out similar groans of agonizing pleasure. Johnny was stuffing himself into your cunt, and Simon was dragging his cock down your throat, going much deeper than you had ever taken anyone before.

MacTavish was almost too thick, and he had to stretch you more than Gaz or Alex. He wasn’t particularly long, but he was curved in just the right way, and you started to scream, muffled by Simon’s dick in your mouth.

It made Simon wild. He spoke to his sergeant in staccato’d bursts,

“Fuck, Johnny. Just like that, mate. Makin’ her scream around me. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“She’s so tight, Si. Shite! I’m gonna come so fast,” MacTavish groaned, pulling your ass cheeks apart as he fucked you, watching your asshole gape open as he did, “God, Cap. How do you last?”

Your captain chuckled darkly, petting your breasts as they swung freely,

“I fuckin’ don’t, mate.”

Johnny was now sheathed in your pussy to his hilt, grinding into you rather than pounding, almost as if he was massaging your walls from the inside, making you feel so full. His hand found your clit that he’d been punishing, and he used your own fluids to smear lazy circles around and around.

You could feel your legs begin to shake involuntarily. You tried to stop it, gripping onto Alejandro and Price for dear life in your hands, and crying out around Simon’s cock in your throat for relief.

All four of the men were noisy now, basking in your rolling pleasure, watching you writhe and tense beneath them. Gaz returned to you, kneeling down to lick your breasts, sucking on them harder than Johnny did, taking more of your flesh into his mouth.

Gaz looked up at your face, stuffed full of Simon’s cock, and he talked to you even though you couldn’t respond, drool dripping out of the sides of your lips,

“Are you havin’ a good time, babe? You’re so damn pretty. Look at these gorgeous fuckin’ tits.”

The way he was sucking on them was so intense that you felt yourself clench hard around Johnny, hearing him moan.

He slapped your ass, grunting,

“Fuck! Again. Do it again, lass.”

You tried to oblige, bearing down on him and squeezing with all of your might.

“Yes, yes, yes, gonna make me come - fuck!”

Johnny grabbed ahold of your harness and threw himself into you at a breakneck pace, the fluids inside of your core splattering you and him as he crushed himself into you. Simon pulled out of you, commanding you,

“That’s right. Scream for it. I wanna hear you.”

You let out a long, trembling whine, and then,

“Oh, fuuuuckkkkk…”

Johnny ground himself into you again, painting your pussy with his come. There was so much of it that you could feel it now, settling in your belly.

The sergeant pulled himself out of you with a slick pop, and bent to lick his own come off of your folds. You screamed again, feeling as if you would be shoved into another wild orgasm if he kept it up. But, then, Simon came to your rescue, grumbling,

“Out of the way, mate.”

Simon moved into place behind you, grabbing Johnny by his mohawk and shoving him back, and hungrily rubbed his cock through your ass checks, massaging himself. Alejandro took his position at your mouth and used you easily. Simon had done a good job of getting you used to his roughness when he fucked your throat, and his treatment of your cunt was no different. Johnny had been big, but he was a lamb compared to the lion taking you from behind now.

Simon had pulled your legs around his waist, holding you in place there, and he was eager to fuck you hard. You felt your bones rattle as he slammed his length into you, making the most animalistic sounds as he did so.

“Tha’s how she likes it, innit, Captain? Like a dirty little slag,” Simon observed, able to feel how your walls fluttered around him, excited and anticipatory.

Price smiled down at you, and you could see his hand leave your breast and search for your ass. He grabbed your ass cheek and pulled it away until your hole was wide open for him, and he used his thick finger to tease you within an inch of your life. You were transported to another dimension of pleasure, and he knew exactly how to turn you on.

“This is how she likes it, Simon. All her pretty holes filled.”

“We can do tha’, can’t we? Proper stuffed.” Simon laughed, understanding what you liked and fully happy to give it to you.

Price removed his hand and Simon replaced it, spitting into his fingers and rubbing two of them just inside of your asshole, stretching you out. He then put them deeper in and pressed downward, feeling his own cock through the thin membrane between your two holes, groaning in a deeper, darker tone.

Alejandro got your attention then by holding himself inside of your throat for a three-count, and then a five-count, and then for a period of time when you lost count. You were choking so much that your body was convulsing, and as he ripped his cock from your throat, rivulets of drool fell out of your mouth and onto the concrete.

“A la chingada! Dame tu boca, mi linda.” Fuck it! Give me your mouth, pretty one. Alejandro lamented, kneeling in front of you and kissing you through your mess of spit and drool. He smiled and stood again, rubbing his wet cock all over the outside of your face, making you sticky with his precome and with your own fluids.

He gave you just the head of his dick and you swirled your tongue around it, suckling from it like it would feed you, and he cried out in pleasure,

“Fuck! Are you gonna come or not, pendejo? ‘Cause I need to.”

Simon didn’t answer. He just fucked you even harder. It was as if he had been holding back this entire time. He grabbed your hair and forced your body to arch high into the air, pounding into you with wet, slapping noises and grunting over your screams. You couldn’t continue rubbing Price’s cock, nor were you able to suck Alejandro’s head. You were at Simon’s demonic mercy.

He came without halting. He fucked you right through his own pleasure, listening to you moan and feeling you bearing down around him, pushing his seed as deep into you as it would go. When he finally let go of your hair and removed himself from you, it felt like he was taking your insides with him. You felt so empty, it made you whine.

“Shh, shh. I know, love,” Price soothed you, moving to your face to kiss you and lick your neck, “You’re doing so good. You ready for me, hm?”

“I need you so bad, John,” you told him through pleasure-wrought tears.

“I know, baby. I know. Be a good girl for me.”

You nodded, feeling Alejandro push himself through Simon’s wet spend. It only took a few thrusts for him to coat your walls as well. There was so much come in you, your belly felt swollen.

Finally, it was the captain’s turn. You and he were alone at the pole, and you felt him cut your rope in one quick slice. He caught you before you fell, holding you to him, knowing you couldn’t stand on your trembling legs. He lifted you up and made you turn to face the group of men who had just finished pleasuring you. They were all in states of undress, panting and laying on the firetruck or on the ground. Simon was jacking off again, as was Alex, thoroughly enjoying the show.

Price fucked you like this, holding your body in front of him, letting you face his team as he struggled to fit himself into you. You had forgotten how big he was compared to normal men. Your eyes reflected your shock. Encouraged, the men began to stir, despite their exhaustion, nearly every one of them had his cock in his hand.

You felt yourself come again, no warning this time, and Price let out a long, threatening growl,

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful, love. Did so good for us. Takin’ my men so well. I knew you could do it. Good girl. Such a fuckin’ good girl. My fuckin’ girl. Whose cock do you like best, baby?”

“Yours, John,” you cried out.

“Whose?” He demanded, shouting at you through gritted teeth.

“Yours! Yours. Yours.” You chanted, feeling him begin to pulse inside of you.

“Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

Price came in you so much and for so long, you thought you had mistaken what was happening to you. But, it was dripping out of you and onto the floor in little white splatters.

Keeping his wits about him, Price whistled to Johnny and he came over with a big blanket, helping Price wrap you in it to keep you warm. You couldn’t stop shaking.

Price smiled, bending down to kiss you as you were wrapped in Johnny’s arms, surrounded by the whole team,

“Go get some rest, love. Your pole-cleaning duties are on hold… for now.”

601 notes · View notes