#wearing a sarong

[jesncin]

Yo your Superboy outfit for Jon is beautiful

Thank you! I got so much love over Indo Jon Kent and that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside :')

[newestcool]

Helsa Slinky Jersey Sarong Dress from Drop 6 Creative Director Elsa Hosk Model Tailyn Andrea Mapp Photographer Aimee Sorek Newest Cool

[harukehn]

he's ready for summer!

[khaleesiofalicante]

Really, Dani. You couldn't have gotten more right with a face claim than you did with Apo. I mean, all your choices are pretty good. I love Seb as Alec and Lewis as Max, but Apo as Magnus Fucking Bane was the true cherry on top.

And talking about model Magnus on the runaway, I bet he loved the most to wear traditional clothes from Southern Asia

Literally every aspect of writing (like the face casting) is more fun than the writing part 😭

[petrovna-zamo]

Christian zombie vampire

[mattzerella-sticks]

Dean, in his 20s, guzzling shitty beer and watching Braveheart: Yeah, technically kilts are manly... but you wouldn't catch me in a skirt like that even if my life depended on it!

Dean, in his 40s, holding a flared mini in one hand and a maxi in the other: What do you think the vibe is today, Cas? Fun and flirty or prairie housewife?

[nickysfacts]

The sarong is around 1,000 years old and yet still is the most elegant wear for the beach!☀️

🏖🎀🏝

[neproxrezi]

hylics........

[pantsareirrelevant]

Pants are pointless, try a sarong

Last weekend, I embarked on a much-needed getaway to the beach. After the hustle and bustle of daily life, I was craving the soothing sounds of waves, the warmth of the sun, and the feel of sand between my toes. I packed my essentials: sunscreen, a good book, snacks, and—most importantly—my trusty sarong. Little did I know, this simple piece of fabric would prove to be far superior to any pair of pants.

The moment I arrived, the beach was everything I had hoped for. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the ocean sparkled like a giant sapphire. As I set up my spot on the sand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pure relaxation wash over me. I spread out my sarong as a blanket and sat down, ready to unwind. Right off the bat, the sarong demonstrated its versatility—it was lightweight, easy to shake out, and didn't cling to sand like a towel would.

Soon after settling in, I decided to take a stroll along the shore. This is where the true magic of the sarong began to shine. Wearing pants at the beach often feels restrictive. The fabric clings to your legs, gets heavy when wet, and retains sand. But with my sarong tied around my waist, I felt free and unencumbered. The light fabric fluttered in the breeze, keeping me cool and comfortable as I walked. I could easily adjust it to be a short skirt or a longer dress, depending on how much coverage I wanted.

As I wandered, I stumbled upon a tide pool teeming with life. Curious, I crouched down to get a better look at the tiny crabs and colorful sea anemones. Had I been wearing pants, this would have been uncomfortable—kneeling in the sand, the fabric bunching and digging into my skin. But with the sarong, I simply adjusted it to sit more comfortably, feeling the soft material against my skin instead of rough fabric. I marveled at the ease and flexibility it provided.

After my tide pool exploration, I decided it was time for a swim. Changing out of pants and into swimwear on a public beach can be quite the ordeal, often involving awkward fumbling and a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of modesty. But with my sarong, the transition was seamless. I used it as a cover while I changed, effortlessly slipping into my swimsuit underneath its flowy folds. The sarong acted as a portable changing room, sparing me the usual hassle.

The water was refreshingly cool, and I swam for what felt like hours. Emerging from the ocean, I faced another moment where the sarong outshone pants. Instead of struggling with wet, heavy fabric, I simply wrapped the sarong around myself, and it quickly absorbed the excess water while drying swiftly in the sun. I didn't have to worry about uncomfortable dampness or sand getting trapped in pockets. The sarong's quick-dry nature was a game-changer.

By midday, the sun was high, and I sought some shade. Nearby, a couple had set up a large umbrella and were lounging comfortably beneath it. I didn’t have an umbrella, but with a bit of creativity, my sarong provided the solution. I tied it between two beach chairs to create a small shaded area. It wasn’t elaborate, but it offered a reprieve from the intense sun. The lightweight fabric allowed air to flow freely, keeping me cool and protected from UV rays. Pants, on the other hand, would have done nothing to shield me from the sun.

Feeling hungry, I decided to have a picnic. Spreading out my sarong on the sand, I laid out my snacks and enjoyed a peaceful meal with an ocean view. The sarong served as a perfect picnic blanket—easy to clean and large enough to accommodate my spread. If I had worn pants, I would have needed an additional blanket or towel, adding unnecessary bulk to my beach bag. The sarong's multifunctionality was proving to be incredibly convenient.

After lunch, I pulled out my book and settled in for some reading. I adjusted the sarong into a comfortable wraparound dress, providing a bit more coverage from the sun as I reclined. Its soft, breathable fabric kept me cool and cozy, a stark contrast to the stifling feeling of sitting in pants on a hot day. The gentle breeze flowed through the fabric, and I felt utterly at ease.

As the afternoon waned, I decided to explore a nearby beachside market. With a few simple adjustments, my sarong transformed into a stylish dress perfect for casual shopping. It was comfortable, breezy, and looked effortlessly chic. In contrast, wearing pants would have felt heavy and hot, not to mention less adaptable to the changing environment. The sarong’s ability to transition from beachwear to daywear with such ease was one of its greatest assets.

At the market, I found some beautiful seashell jewelry and other trinkets. Carrying my purchases was easy—I simply bundled them in my sarong, tying it into a makeshift bag. This impromptu solution highlighted yet another advantage of the sarong over pants. Pants, with their limited pocket space, would have required an additional bag or backpack, while the sarong seamlessly adapted to my needs.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the beach, I returned to my spot on the sand. The temperature dropped slightly, and the sarong once again came to my aid. I wrapped it around my shoulders like a shawl, providing just enough warmth to keep the chill at bay. Pants might have offered warmth, but they lack the versatility to transform into different garments as the sarong did throughout the day.

Reflecting on the day's events, it was clear that the sarong was a far superior choice for beachwear. Its lightweight, breathable fabric kept me cool, comfortable, and stylish. It functioned as a cover-up, picnic blanket, shade provider, towel, dress, and even a bag. In every situation where pants would have been cumbersome or impractical, the sarong proved to be the perfect solution.

As the sky turned pink and orange, I felt a deep sense of contentment. The simple pleasures of the day—the sun, the sea, the sand—were enhanced by the ease and versatility of my sarong. It allowed me to fully enjoy every moment without the restrictions or discomfort that pants would have imposed.

In the end, the sarong wasn't just a piece of fabric; it was a companion that adapted to my needs, making my beach day truly perfect. As I packed up to leave, I knew that for all future beach outings, my sarong would be the first thing I’d pack. It had proven itself to be not just better than pants, but an essential part of the ultimate beach experience.

[mo-sincredible]

How I tie my Sarong

Hey there! I'm so excited about our trip to the pool by the beach, and I have to tell you about this awesome thing called a sarong. It's like a magic piece of cloth that can do so many cool things. Let me tell you why it's so perfect for our trip.

First, a sarong is super handy. It’s just a big piece of fabric that you can tie in different ways. You can wear it as a skirt, a dress, or even a cape! It’s great for when you want to cover up after swimming but still look cool. You can change how you wear it every day, so it always feels new and fun.

When we get to the pool, a sarong can be our blanket. Just spread it out and sit on it. It's way lighter than a big towel and doesn’t get all sandy or wet. When you’re done, just shake it, and all the sand or dirt falls right off. Easy peasy!

Sometimes the sun can be really bright, and you might want some shade. If we have a couple of sticks or find some branches, we can tie the sarong to them and make a little tent. It’s like having our own mini fort to sit under. No more squinting in the sun!

If you forget to put on sunscreen and start feeling too hot, just wrap the sarong around you. It’s like an instant shield from the sun. And if you need to dry off after swimming, the sarong can help with that too. It dries really fast, so you’re not carrying around a soggy towel all day.

Sarongs come in all kinds of colors and patterns. You can pick one that has your favorite colors or a cool design. It’s like wearing a piece of art! Plus, it makes your outfit look super cool without even trying.

A sarong is also useful for carrying things. Imagine we find some cool shells or rocks. We can bundle them up in the sarong and carry them easily. It’s also perfect for holding snacks, sunscreen, or any small things we need to grab quickly.

If we want to explore away from the pool, the sarong is still awesome. Whether we’re going to a lookout point or a market, it’s easy to carry and wear. You can tie it as a dress or drape it over your shoulders. It’s great for any adventure we decide to go on.

And if we get hungry and want to have a snack, the sarong can be a picnic blanket. We can spread it out and keep our food clean and sand-free. If we spill something, no big deal. Just shake it out or wash it, and it’s ready to use again.

Packing for the pool is so much easier with a sarong. It doesn’t take up much space, so you can bring a few of them without your bag getting too heavy. This means you can have different ones for different days, or even share one if a friend forgets theirs.

Sarongs are also great gifts. If you ever need to give someone a present, a sarong is a fun and useful idea. It’s something they might not think to buy but will love and use all the time.

So, a sarong is the best thing to bring to the pool and beach. It’s cool, useful, and easy to use. Once you start using one, you’ll wonder how you ever went without it. I bet it will become your new favorite thing, too.

I can’t wait for our trip and to see you enjoy your sarong. We’re going to have so much fun, swimming, exploring, and just relaxing. With our sarongs, we’ll be ready for anything. What do you think? Ready to join the sarong fun with me?

[jesncin]

Lunar Boy WIP! A lineup of men in sarong. Their space tattoos are loosely inspired by Dayak traditional tattoos, and the sarong designs are inspired by a queer peer who likes wearing beautiful sarongs.

[bro-atz]

ripple effect

in which: you and san silently try to get the other to break first.

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 1.8k

content: smut, san's possessive as fuck, reader wears a slutty bikini, breeding kink, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: fun fact! the other two pictures in the banner were taken by yours truly <3 and yes, i know, i'm insane /j

summer boys series: wooyoung, san, jongho

San started it.

He started it the second he brought you to a very private resort— so private that you were the only two people there. He did tell you that you would be going swimming, but you didn’t think that it would be in such a nice fucking place by the tropical beach.

San told you get changed and that he’d meet you by the pool of the resort. You took your time getting ready since you did want to doll yourself up for him. You had this really cute gold bikini set that you had been dying to try out, so once San left you alone, you got ready. You tied the bikini bottom, the strings resting all the way up on your waist, accentuating your legs. Not going to lie, you struggled slightly with the top because you kept making it too tight around your neck, and one wrong move would allow your breast to pop out. After you got completely situated, you threw on the matching sarong around your waist and quickly made your way out to where San was.

When you got out, you saw San sitting at the edge of the pool. His legs were chilling out in the water as his hands were on either side of him supporting him as he leaned back, his abs bright as fucking day. You nearly gagged when you saw his chest swell up as he took a deep breath. He smiled the second he saw you, only for that smile to immediately drop. His eyes followed you as you went to one of the lounge chairs and sat down, and they remained on you as you sat far across the pool from him.

Either of you had yet to speak. San slipped into the water and completely submerged himself before resurfacing. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, his muscles rippling. You had to bite you tongue as you watched him intentionally try to turn you on— but the joke was on him because you were turned on the second you saw him merely existing by the pool. He pressed his back against the wall of the pool and rested his arms on the edge before puffing his chest out as he stretched his back.

Your legs, which were up as you were kind of hugging your knees to your chest, extended onto the full length of the lounge chair. You watched his eyebrow twitch when you crossed your legs stretched your arms up so that you could puff your chest out.

The two of you were practically in a showdown at that point, waiting for the other to break. San thought he had you when he turned his head to the side to show off his ridiculously sharp jawline, but you had him by the balls the second you removed the sarong from your waist and started putting sunscreen on. You focused on covering every inch of your body, and you did a thorough job until you realized you had yet to get your back. You officially won when you turned around and pressed your chest into the lounge chair, the sight of your ass in the air taking the cake.

“Sweetheart, do you need help with the sunscreen?” you heard San ask in an extremely low voice.

“Yes, please, that would be so helpful.”

San grabbed the tube from you, and you waited several seconds as he coated his hands in sunscreen. Just as he was about to apply it, he realized that your bikini strings were in the way. Rather than ask you to untie them, he grazed his canines along your spine before untying the string with his teeth. You did your best to not react to what he was doing, and you nearly did when you felt the cool sunscreen on your back, his large hands kneading it into your skin.

Unfortunately, you moaned slightly when you felt his hands move to your lower back, and San was winning again. At that point, though, you had given up because every single cell of your body craved every part of him. You sighed sensually when he ran his hands along the curve of your waist, and your breathing hitched when you felt his hands go around and cup your breasts.

“You… Haa, San!” you moaned when you felt his fingers rub over your nipples.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” San teased you, his lips by your ear. “You should’ve been expecting this the second you decided to wear this bikini.”

San’s hands suddenly retreated, only for them to turn you around so that you were on your back again. You reached back and untied the string around your neck, allowing San to have complete access to your breasts. He licked a stripe up one of them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked hard, and his tongue swirled around your tit before his teeth nibbled on it. You sighed and held the back of his neck as he switched breasts. As he sucked, he placed his large hand on your stomach, his fingers making your entire body react as they tiptoed to your waist.

“San, please,” you sighed helplessly. “I need more…” 

The water from his swim shorts dripped onto your stomach as he pushed himself up and hovered above you. He ran his fingers from your ankle and up your leg as he pressed his knee between your legs. While maintaining eye contact with you, he untied one of the strings that rested on your hip. You were starting to squirm impatiently underneath him the longer he took with the insanely sensual foreplay. Luckily, San picked up on that, and after running two of his fingers over your slightly exposed crotch, he figured that he could speed things up. He quickly untied the string on the other side and bunched up as much of the fabric as he could before pulling it out from under you and letting it fall on the side, his eyes still locked on yours.

You gazed into his dark, lust filled eyes before he closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately. You held onto his neck and shoulders as the kisses somehow managed to intensify. One of his hands held your waist tightly while the other pulled his swim shorts down just enough to release his hard, throbbing cock. He sucked hard on your lower lip and tugged upwards as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. It was when he stopped kissing you did San shove the entirety of his fat cock into you, making you choke out a cry. You dug your fingers into his skin as he bottomed out because, no matter how many times he fucked you, you would never get used to his size.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” San asked with a soft voice in stark contrast to his intense actions just moments before.

You nodded and exhaled slowly before San started moving. There was a distance between his chest and yours as he rolled his hips into yours steadily, your body occasionally shifting upwards when he randomly thrust just a little harder into you.

“You’re lucky that no one else is here, sweetheart,” San breathed out. “Because if another man saw you in that, I would have to kill him.”

The words were so threatening, but it still made your heart flutter a little. Well, it was either the words or San’s cock diving deep inside you that made you tingle, but it was definitely him that affected you that way.

“You’re too sexy for your own good, sweetheart,” he continued. “You better dress like that only in front of me, got it?”

“Yes— Ah! Y-Yes, San,” you yelped when he suddenly snapped his waist into yours.

San smirked at you before kissing you again, his tongue entering the mix this time. You arms wrapped over his shoulders, and your nails sank into his skin when he started ramming his hips into yours. You could tell San was close because of the way his grunts started getting higher in pitch and because of his quickening pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart— Nngh! I’m gonna fill you up, and you’re going to take every last bit of me, right?”

“Mmhmm!” you responded as you bit your lower lip

Lowering himself again, San forced you to untuck your lip by pulling down on it with his own teeth.

“I want to hear you say it out loud.”

“Ye-es, San! I’ll— Angh!”

You didn’t get to finish your thought. San sat up and grabbed your waist. He slammed his hips into yours, and you felt his cock throb and twitch inside you. A long groan left his lungs as his cum spurt into you.

As his seed collected inside you, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment— you yourself were close to cumming ass well, but you didn’t get there quite yet. However, San was never one to leave you disappointed. When he pulled out, you could see that he was still pretty hard, and you only got that fleeting glance of his red, throbbing cock before he flipped you over. He pulled your ass up and stuffed his cock back inside you without warning. You cried out in both shock and pleasure when you felt his cock fill you up again.

“Your pussy was made for my cock, sweetheart,” San commented as he grabbed your ass. “It’s swallowing me so fucking perfectly— this pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

You knew that San wanted a response from you, but he was fucking you so senseless that the only thing you knew how to do was moan and cry.

San groped your ass before smacking it up. You whimpered every time he smacked your ass, the sting making you feel so much more pleasure. He then moved his hands to your waist and leaned over you, his cushy chest pressing into your shoulder blades, letting him leave wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. The change in his angle was enough for him to rub against your G-spot ad hit your cervix perfectly to the point where white filled your vision at a record rate.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, sweetheart. Are you gonna cum?”

You nodded weakly before moaning loudly— San’s cock rammed into you so perfectly that your entire being reacted. You cunt fluttered wildly as your arousal leaked out and down your leg. You desperately wanted to squirt properly, but San was still fucking you wildly. He only gave you that chance after he shoved his cock deep inside you one final time before pulling out completely. Your legs shook as you squirted onto the lounge chair and the man behind you, a long, wavering cry leaving the depths of your soul.

After you finished cumming entirely, your upper body practically collapsed onto the chair, your ass still up in the air. You heard San tsk as he ran two of his fingers along your inner thigh.

“Look at me leaking out of you,” he sighed. “I don’t think we’re done here, sweetheart.”

“W-What?”

“We’re not done until you keep every last bit of me inside you.” 

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[reaperkaneki]

nana is making me wear a sarong as a coverup over my swimsuit which is like. fine bc it has an elastic waistband and i dont have to tie it. but also. extremely funny clashing aesthetic.

yes i am wearing a sexy women’s cutout open back plunging neckline swimsuit. yes i am wearing a pair of completely normal men’s swim trunks over that. yes i am wearing a gender neutral garment that exists somewhere between dress and skirt pulled up to the armpit over that. sure why not

[pandacatxd]

Me, complaining: the sarong won't wrap properly around me :( is it too small? There's a slit showing too much leg when I move or sit down...

Daddy: first, is that my sarong?

Me: ... :)

Daddy: second, you're supposed to step inside it then wrap. Not just wrap it

Me, immediately going upstairs to re-wear it and coming down a new person: THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER

[eevees-hobbies]

Honeyed Kisses Against Tender Flesh (Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I got carried away with this one. But shoutout to those of us who write for Hayato Suo cuz we really are working with crumbs. Like he’s whatever we say he is until we get more information. 

Synopsis: Your friend Kotoha and brother Hiragi are worried about your relationship with Suo. It all comes to a head at the beach, to your embarrassment and Suo's delight. No big deal, though; you’ll just have sex against Hiragi’s truck or whatever. 

Content Warning: I’m a really bad judge when it comes to dark content. To me, it’s a spectrum and while I don’t consider this particular story truly dark, others might. So I encourage you to read the warnings and make the best decision for yourself:

Smut with a plot, the obsessive kind of love, possessiveness, hickeys, bruises, biting, spit, enjoyment of public humiliation, teasing, licking of blood, sex/nudity in public, super brief mention of a golden shower, praising/worshipping language, unprotected sex, no-pulling out despite being asked (wrap it up, folks!), like he straight up says “nah.” 

Also, please note that you are written as Hiragi’s sister in this story. I do not expand on your relationship, so you might be his half-sister, full-sister, step-sister, adopted sister, etc. I say this for my readers who may hold a racial/ethnic identity different from Hiragi, hoping that you can still feel like this story is for you (because it is <3). Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

On a day when you and your Bofurin friends decide to visit the beach, the unforgiving intensity of the sun makes you feel as though you’re simmering in a boiling pot. No one except you is ill-prepared; the men are wearing various colored shorts that seemingly match their personalities, and their unclothed torsos are on full, unapologetic display.

Kotoha, sitting on a beach towel next to you, is in a three-piece halter bikini set with a sheer sarong skirt that accentuates her curves. Even your brother Hiragi has abandoned his usual band shirt to showcase his well-toned arms and abs. You find it pretty horrifying but good for him, you think. 

It’s hard not to be jealous of all the bare, suntanned skin as you take inventory of your fit. You are wearing an oversized grey hoodie and sweatpants combo that covers every inch of you. Underneath your hefty clothes is a simple but cute black two-piece bikini you originally planned to show off that day. 

You are roasting under the sun's rays—and in your anger—as you glare at the person responsible for your attire: Hayato Suo. 

He’s sitting on the beach towel with you, his perfectly parted hair blowing softly against the breeze. Despite his attempt at trying to appear inconspicuous in reading his book, you can tell that he’s very much aware of your disdain for him with the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. 

Kotaho lowers her sunglasses so she’s looking at you over the rim of the frames.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants at the beach of all places? I’m getting hot just looking at you.”

You shift uncomfortably, having hoped that this was not a conversation that would come up. You instinctively pull the collar of the sweatshirt higher until it’s tucked snuggly under your chin. “It’s not so bad! I just have to stay hydrated!”

Kotoha leans closer to you and lowers her voice, obviously trying not to catch the attention of Suo. “But why? Is this a cry for help because of you-know-who? Say the word, and I will scream.”

You and Kotoha have become close since you applied for a position to work at Cafe Pothos. She was your boss, but she’s also the embodiment of a girls-girl. You bonded over cooking and annoying brother figures; there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about each other. 

So color her shocked when one day she picked up her cell phone after receiving a series of texts that were coming in rapid succession. She had assumed the sender was Umemiya, but instead, they were from you!

8:50 PM: OMG 8:50 PM: You won’t believe what just happened to meeeeeeee ihfdnf 8:51 PM: SUO! SUO! 8:52 PM: He KISSED me!  8:55 PM: HELLO?! The love of my life just put his tongue in my mouth and you HAVE THE AUDACITY TO NOT ANSWER!? I’m heading to the cafe right fucking now.

Kotoha was confused, not because she didn’t think you deserved the world—you deserved the world and more. She was confused because she couldn’t picture you and Suo together. He was pleasant whenever he came into the cafe, only ordering tea and always leaving a big tip. But other than that, she didn't know much about him, and no one did, and that was a difficult thing to accomplish in a small town. 

So when you finally ran into the cafe, practically colliding into the glass door as you shuffled in, Kotoha poured you a fresh cup of coffee, sat you down, and asked if you were sure about this.

Were you sure it was a good idea to date a guy who wore an eyepatch, had never been seen eating, and had a different story about his life every time he was asked? You assured her that Suo was the man of your dreams and you’ve never been more sure of something in your life. And while Kotoha may not know much about Suo, there were small moments that felt as though you were gradually building up to this kiss all along. 

The way he’d offer to walk you home even though it was out of his way, how his hand would brush up against yours and linger when passing you coins to pay for his tea, and god, that smile of his that usually didn’t reach his eyes but did when he was talking to you.

You were adamant that this was something you wanted.

You didn’t exactly come out as “official,” though. In a strange way, your relationship just “was.” 

Your friends acted as though you had always been together, and the way Suo became a constant in your life—walking you home after every shift from the cafe, texting and calling you more often, holding your hand in public, and taking you out on dates to your favorite places—made it difficult to remember what life was like before him. You quickly became the shadow of the other, and not without concern from Kotoha and Hiragi. Some would call your love for each other smothering, but to you; it was anything but that—it was perfect. 

“Everything is fine, Kotoha, I promise.”

She lets out a sigh and pulls her sunglasses back up. You can see the reflection of the guys in her dark shades—Hiragi, Umemiya, Sakura, and Kaji playing volleyball, sand kicking up as shouts of, “get that, doofus!’ and “who are you calling doofus!?”  traveling over to you but being drowned out by the roar of waves breaking shore.

A bead of sweat travels down the side of your face, and you look up at the sun, hoping to will it away with a pitiful look.

“Why not take off that burdensome outfit, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps in the direction of Suo, the tone in his voice–thick with faux concern–alluding to the pleasure he’s getting from watching you like this. He’s all too aware of what you’re hiding—he’s the culprit who put you in this situation.

He shrugs innocently, “you’re developing sweat stains,” you follow his finger as he points at you. To your horror, giant wet spots have formed at your armpits and collar. You groan, the realization that if you don’t shed these clothes soon, you’ll likely meet your untimely demise via heatstroke—and that’s a very unsexy way to go. 

A shaky hand grips the drawstring of the sweatshirt, and you peel it off with the sweatpants following shortly after. Before you can set the clothes beside you, Kotaha lets out an audible gasp. You wince, knowing that your movements and her sharp intake of breath will surely draw the boys' attention—a result that you were trying your damnedest to avoid.

You thought Hiragi’s booming voice would be the first to reach your ears, but instead, it’s Sakura’s. 

“What happened to YOU?!” 

The volleyball spinning through the air hits him square in the chest; a loud thud has him doubling over in pain, but it’s not enough to break away Hiragi’s stare from the bruises and hickeys that litter your neck, chest, and thighs.

After gathering himself, Sakura stands up and turns his attention to Suo, “You should really keep a better watch over your girl. She’s obviously getting her butt kicked somewhere-”

Sakura is unable to finish before Hiragi interjects. He takes a step forward, and if you weren’t on sand, you’d be almost positive that the sheer force would shake the earth. “Suo, what did you do to my sister's skin?”

You stare at Hiragi, deep veins already protruding from his forehead. If looks could kill, Suo would be dead right now. You give a sideglance at your boyfriend, who has two hands raised near his head and his shoulders shrugged up to appear non-threatening. 

“I am NOT doing this right now!”  You proclaim, hurriedly picking up the keys to Hiragi’s car and padding through the sand, trying your damnedest to escape the sound of rising voices. 

Suo follows you soon after de-escalating the situation. Assuring Hiragi that he may have gotten carried away with the amount of hickeys and bruises he left on your skin wasn’t easy by any means, but you two were both consenting adults, so there wasn’t much Hiragi could do anyhow. He desperately wanted to add that you didn’t mind the bruises when they were happening to you—but that didn’t seem wise.

Hiragi’s truck is parked next to the property line between the beach and the expanse of forest. When you arrived, the parking lot was full of people, but beach-goers packed their belongings and left as the day neared its end.

Suo can’t see you as he approaches the truck's passenger side, so he assumes you’re on the driver's side. As he rounds the corner, he’s met with the sight of you bending over and attempting to fish the keys off the ground, which must have fallen. The sight of your ass completely swallowing the seat of your bikini bottoms has him suddenly leaning against the car for support and blood flowing south. Even with one eye covered, he can see the outline of your puffy pussy. The bikini is much better, he thinks to himself.

You turn around, hearing the sound of gravel shifting quietly—hoping that your brother hasn’t followed you, but it’s Suo. 

“Well, that was awk-“ you begin, but you're cut off. The fluidity and quickness of his motions still surprise and catch you off guard. He pins you in place to the truck with his body—chest to chest.  

You can see arousal churning in his eye as his now rock-hard cock presses against your thigh. At that moment, you’re thankful that the shade of the trees shrouds this side of the truck and that anyone coming from the beach would need to walk around the vehicle to catch you in the act.

For Suo, the build-up of knowing what you were trying to hide from the group and the eventual reveal of his handiwork had given him one hell of a rush. Being in on the secret was fun, but the way Hiragi’s eyes darted over your skin, the way he caught Kaji’s cheeks reddening as his eyes swept over your exposed and marked-up flesh, it was practically unbearable.

Suo’s hand tugs at the string of your bikini top, and it doesn’t take long before the flimsy fabric releases and drifts to your feet. You shiver as cool air licks at your breasts and nipples, hardening the sensitive buds upon contact. It isn’t until Suo’s warm hands cup and massage your breasts that you let out a whimper; his touch feels firm and needy, delivering pinches and squeezes to the over-sensitive and bruised flesh.

“S-someone could c-catch us!” You protest in a hushed whisper, but you’re not pushing him away—you tilt your head back to rest it against the truck and arch your spine to give him more access to you.

“They’d be so lucky,” he growls softly into your neck.

As your stomach twists in arousal and nervousness, you know that the Hayato Suo who is fondling you in the parking lot against your brother's truck is a different Hayato than the one your friends interact with. 

Suo is often poised and has immense control over his emotions, but sometimes, he gets so overcome by desire that it feels like a gaseous cloud is seeping into your pores and lungs. 

You’ve become a welcome victim to the Suo that likes to grip you so desperately that he leaves bruises, bites you so hard that sometimes it breaks the skin, and fucks you so roughly that you’re confident that you’ve experienced the closest thing you can to death.  

“Suo, we shouldn’t. They saw my bruises and the hickeys. Toma might kill you.”

“You can’t convince me that this isn’t something you want. This,” he presses two fingers against the seat of your bikini, which sink into the moistness of you, “tells me otherwise.”

Your face grows hot because he’s right. You’re not innocent in your shared dynamic like Kotoha, and Hiragi would like to think—you crave him just as much as he craves you. 

You’re just as much of a thrill-seeker as he is but you two have to be quick; anyone in your group could come looking for you any second—and nothing would destroy your arousal more than Hiragi seeing your boyfriend fucking you in public. Suo would enjoy that, though. 

It’s as though he can read your mind because Suo is pulling down your bikini bottoms so that they hang around your ankles. 

His lips are on yours, his kisses somehow hungrier than his touches. Suo kisses you as though he’s found solace against the plush of your lips and the treasure housed within your mouth. He tilts his head so his tongue can explore every inch of you deeper; he’s unapologetically devouring you.

When he finally pulls away for air, his voice is low and almost gravelly, a departure from his usual calm tone.  

“You make me become the most disrespectful version of myself, Y/N.”

His fingers roll and pinch at your nipples, but his eye is on yours. His gaze is intense, and even though he looks at you as though you are his prey and he is your predator, the last thing you want to do is look away.

He continues, “I want nothing more than to be the nice, sweet boyfriend your friends and brother want me to be, but you turn me into someone I don’t recognize.”

He’s pushing his shorts down, and you groan at the sight of him. His dick sits straight up against his abdomen with a slight curve, an aggressive vein pulsates on the side, and the crimson tip of it is smeared in an ungodly amount of precum. How can such a pretty dick look so angry? 

Without much prep or warning, he pushes into your wet sex; he’s so deep so quickly that your body jerks reactively. 

He can’t hold back the moan that escapes his lips at finally burying himself in you. His mouth has found purchase against your neck; both he and you can feel your pulse quickening, firing rapidly against his tongue as it reaches out to lick at your skin. 

“When I look at you, just as you are, I want to ruin you. So if that means I’m covering you with bruises, hickeys, or the most intimate parts of me, so be it.” 

He sinks his teeth into your neck, and the sharp pain makes your eyes roll back. The searing sensation doesn't last long as his tongue laps up the droplets of blood that bubble from the punctures.  

“Tell me that you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you,” his fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he holds your legs around his waist, allowing him to bounce you on his cock.. 

“H-Hayato, I’m just as obsessed with you, baby. I promise.”

And you mean it. You’ve never felt a love quite so all-consuming and suffocating. He’s explored every inch of your body; at first, the way his eyes drank you in made you squirm, but he assured you that he was simply appreciating what was his—you wouldn’t fault an art curator for appraising the Mona Lisa, would you, Y/N? No? Then let me be.

Suo has licked parts of you with enthusiasm, parts that you’d be embarrassed to admit to anyone. 

And for you, the taste of him is just as nourishing. When he pulls your head back by your hair,  his hungry eye communicating to you without him having to say it, you find yourself eagerly opening your mouth and accepting his spit on your outstretched tongue. 

The good girl muttered in his smooth voice afterward, and his infamous smile that reaches his eyes when he looks at you makes your clit twitch. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s his spit, cum, or other golden liquid of his, you want it all. 

During intimacy, Suo tears you down to the most basic, hedonistic version of yourself—his delivery never includes harsh language in the traditional sense—he would absolutely never call you out of your name. You are far too important to be called something derogatory. Sometimes you’ll refer to yourself as “his whore” or “his slutty girl,” and it will make him leak so much precum he has to catch his breath, but he hasn’t reached a point in which he has personally referred to you as those titles…yet.  

For now, he uses deft fingers and honeyed words dripping in veiled threats of orgasm denial and overstimulation to push you to the precipice of your pleasure—and you trust him to build you back up afterward with softly cooed hymns of worship and strokes of your tender skin. To Suo, you are a goddess, a deity to be revered. To Suo, you are everything. 

And it isn’t until moments like this that you see his mask slip. Your usually stoic boyfriend's mouth opening and closing in pleasure the same way that yours is, soft guttural moans escaping his lips and his brow furrowing, obviously about to lose control to you—-for you.

“You are everything, dove. You are my everything.” He groans as your silky walls clench around him, clutching him for dear life.

“You like it when I compliment you, pretty girl?”

You give him a grunt of approval, feeling yourself so close to becoming undone as he fills your head up with chants of his devotion.

At this point, each thrust has his dick bottoming out into your sopping-wet cunt. Pelvis to pelvis, you can feel every inch of you stretching to accommodate him. His maroon-colored pubic hair tickles at your skin, dampening at the contact of your slick as deep thuds from frantic thrusts fill the air.

And even though you’re only participating in a quickie, a rarity for you both, your cunt still drools just the same, streaks of it managing to glide down your inner thigh and leave droplets at his feet. 

“S-suo,” your nails dig into his shoulders, resulting in a delicious hiss from his lips. “Y-you have to pull out! You aren’t wearing a c-condom!”

Suo presses his lips to your ear; you can barely make out what he’s saying over the soft gasps and the way he’s suckling at your earlobe that he has pulled between his teeth.

“I can’t. You’re mine, and I want to fill you up. So you have to take it, dove. Take all of it.” 

And the way Suo says it, you know that he isn’t asking; he’s telling you what he plans to do to your body because you are an extension of him–you are his, and it’s his right to cum in you without silly obstacles like “protection.”

His pounding against your cervix feels animalistic, and the force of him fucking you is making the truck rock back and forth. 

You bite your lip and hold onto him for dear life as that oh-so-familiar feeling takes over. Your thighs squeeze him, and to muffle the scream bubbling up into your throat, you take a note out of Suo’s handbook and bite his shoulder so hard that he sees a hot, white flash. 

In that moment, you give each other everything—all of you becomes all of him—mixing into a mess of creamy, frothy white essence that drips down balls, legs, and thighs.

Between soft kisses on the fresh hickeys and bite marks along your neck, Suo chuckles, “Hiragi is going to be upset.”