#drabble turned fic

[calumfmu]

spread thin

Summary: You and Steve have been best friends for the entirety of your lives, always platonic and nothing more. As graduation approaches, you find yourself wishing that something would come out of this decades-long relationship. During a recurring Friday movie night, you confess your feelings to him, not realizing the man had felt the same way the entire time.

cw: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie

2.9k+ words

The boy in front of you was beautiful. He was everything that you had pictured in a man, yet nothing of the sort that you imagined yourself to be with. He was handsome, charismatic, funny-- every good thing that could come with a boy.

But he wasn't yours.

Steve was everything and everyones before the label of yours could be applied.

"yn?"

His voice sounded throughout the fluorescent room, it's white walls allowing you to be caught in the midst of your thoughts. You met his eyes, his dark brown searching for clarification in the color of your own.

"Sorry, just..." your hands tightened around the broom, glancing down at the foot of tile you hadn't realized you were sweeping repeatedly for the last ten minutes. "A lot on my mind, graduation and all."

He stood there for a second, nodding as his hands graced the cash register in front of him. He had a hint of something on his face, something you couldn't recognize from his normal expressions. He suddenly shrugged, shaking his head to himself as he paid attention to the machine.

"Well... I'm just about done here," he supplied before closing the drawer. "Whenever you're done, I was thinking that we could head to mine? Movie night, drinks?"

You nodded, smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. This was normal between the two of you. You have been best friends since kindergarten, it was always SteveandYn and YnandSteve.

He smiled back at you, walking around the corner.

"Well, let's get out of here, then." He took the broom from your hands, placing it in its respective supply closet. "I found a copy of that new horror movie on VHS, and you're going to love it."

As you two closed up shop, you made your way through the mall. His car was parked in the back of the lot, giving you ample time to think of what had been plaguing your mind lately. These feelings for Steve hadn't came out of nowhere, they had been building for the last couple of years as he became more popular. King Steve as they called him. You held back the eye roll of the remark, knowing that people didn't understand the true character of the man.

Calling him something like that only emphasized his woman-user ways, but did not touch on the sweetness he had to him. He was painted as a player, someone that did not care about women. Deep down, you knew that wasn't true.

His shoulder bumped into yours, shaking you of your thoughts. Steve opened the passenger door, holding his hand out as he did a faux bow.

"M'lady."

Giggling, you rolled your eyes and settled in the car as he made his way over to the driver's seat. As he got situated and started the vehicle, he glanced over at you.

"What's going on? You've been so... distant lately."

Sighing, you turned your head towards the window.

"'S nothing, Steve."

He pulled out into the main road, leaving the mall further and further into the distance. "You've been so weird, it can't be nothing."

"I'm fine." You smiled through your teeth, covering the true gnawing at your heart that plagues you. He spared a glance in your direction, huffing as he knew you were lying.

"Sure."

The rest of the car ride was quiet, only the sounds of the radio quietly buzzing some song in the background. Steve tapped his fingers to the beat as you focused on the drive in front of you, cars passing as he made his way to his house. With every block, the dim street lights hit your face, exposing more and more of the true emotional state that you were in. It was becoming too much to hide now.

You hadn't noticed as he pulled into his driveway, a dark house with no one home in front of it. Your passenger door suddenly opening startled you.

"Jesus, Steve," you mumbled, getting out as you smoothed down your work uniform. "Give a girl a warning, yeah?"

"Oh, quiet. 'S not like you would've heard it anyways," he had a grumpiness to his voice, something that only confused you even more. What was wrong with him?

You followed him through the front door, lights turning on as he made his way to the kitchen. A beer was placed in your hand, and you looked down to inspect it. The cheap kind, PBR. So it was going to be one of those nights.

Steve loosened the collar of his uniform, letting it hang open as he cracked open his own drink. He was still staring at you, as you leaned against the counter.

"You're really not going to tell me?" His brown eyes were huge at this point, his bottom lip jutting out as he pouted in your direction. "Please, yn?"

You took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste of the beverage.

"'M just stressed about graduation," you answered, twirling your drink around as you focused on the exposed part of his chest. A tuft of hair poked out there, you imagined what it would feel like between your fingers.

"What about it?"

You broke the focus, walking closer to him so you could take a seat on the counter beside him. He turned his body towards you, forearms leaning on the white tile as he looked up into your eyes. This angle allowed you to see into the deep brown of his irises, the overhead light hitting in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. They were the same eyes you remember from childhood, his long lashes that framed them always so right.

You took another sip of the drink in your hand, thumb playing with the tab at the top of the aluminum. His hand reached out, touching the top of your thigh where your navy blue shorts ended.

Nervousness settled over you as his thumb began to rub small circles on the exposed skin.

"Come on, you could tell me. Anything, remember?"

The look in his eyes and his begging was hard to resist. You had always told Steve your secrets, your worries, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to be.

You sighed, ready to let this burden off of your chest. Now or never, yn, what's the worst that could happen?

"I'm just worried about what's coming next," you said, finishing off your drink this time. The empty can hit the tile next to you, ringing throughout the kitchen. "Things changing, people growing, leaving."

His brow furrowed, confusion crossing hit features. He stood up, settling in closer to you. His eye level was right below yours this time. You could smell his cologne mixed in with the faint smell of ice cream. So enticing, yet you had to ignore it.

"Are you talking about us?" His hand left your thigh, moving to place his hands on either side of your waist. His waist sat in front of your crossed knees, body leaning slightly as he looked into your eyes. Heat settled into your core, your body reacting to the proximity of him between your legs. "You know, nothing's ever going to change between us. We've always been best friends, always will be."

And there it is. The pit of your stomach gnawing as that realization settled over you. Best friends.

A familiar sting hit your eyes as you began to blink it away. You thought you were being inconspicuous, but he noticed.

"Hey, hey, hey." His voice was a whisper now as he stepped closer, pushing your thighs apart. His hand reached up to touch the side of your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye.

Concern was etched all over his features. He searched your eyes for an explanation, his calloused hands rubbing over the delicate skin of your face. He was so close now, you could lean in and kiss him. Feel the true pout of his lips against yours.

"...Steve," you muttered, shaking your head. "I was just hoping tha- you know, what, nevermind."

He was patient, waiting for your words to come out as the two of you sat in silence. Your mind was racing, thoughts of King Steve with a million other girls floating around. Why tell him when he can whoever? You've been friends for years, why would he want to hear this now when there has been years where something could have happened.

"Tell me."

You sighed, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. It was easier to think with them shut, the beautiful boy in front of you no longer being a distraction.

"I was hoping things would stay the same between us," you blurted out. Your heart was racing, word vomit on the tip of your tongue. "Things would stay the same in college, but I know they won't because you're going to be focused on the next interesting person, the next beautiful girl who's not me and is so much better than me."

He didn't answer, but you felt his hand leave the side of your face. The pit at the bottom of your stomach growing more. You kept your eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness.

You chose to continue, "I just hear everyone talking about King Steve this and King Steve that, and I just can't help but think about how much worse it will be once you're no longer forced to be friends with me."

Suddenly, you felt a mouth on yours, slightly chapped lips brushing against yours quickly. Your eyes flew open, staring at the boy in front of you.

Steve had a smile on his face, eyes drifting over your shocked face. Your mouth opened and close as you find yourself at a loss of words. You found the words, a single syllable escaping your lips before he shushed you.

His hand returned to his cheek as his lips found yours again, moving with a fever that was missing previously. He seemed more urgent, needy in this moment as his hands began to explore your body.

Before you knew it, your legs were opening wider, inviting his body even closer to your core. You felt drunk, despite the single drink running through your veins. It was intoxicating, feeling his mouth against yours and his fingers in your hair.

Is this real life? You couldn't help but think you were imagining it all.

Steve breaks the kiss, fingers dancing at the bottom of your shirt, threatening to lift the hem there.

"Can I-?" He began to lift it as you nodded vehemently, lifting your arms. It came off your frame, exposing you in your white bra. The cool air hit your body, quickly replaced with the heat of his body.

His lips finds your jaw, slopping making his way down your neck. Pants escape your mouth, your vision becoming blurred as his fingers find your waistline. His thumb dipped into the band of your pants, teasing to expose your edge of your panties.

"S-steve, please."

All you saw was a flash of his hair as you were pushed back slightly, the pants beginning to slip down your hips. You adjusted the way you were sitting, allowing Steve the ease to free you of the restriction. He leaned down slightly, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses to your chest bone, hands returning to their residence of your hips.

You placed a hand in his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. He smiled through the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. Your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him even closer as you felt his bulge rub against your heat.

You muttered a fuck as he began to rub against you, cock hard against the restriction of his own pants.

"Want more, baby?" He whispered, hand coming up to grab at your breast, squeezing in all the right places. You threw your head back in ecstacy, hips shooting up to rub against him even further. Your hands found his own waistline, pulling as you struggled to get them off.

"Patience now, my love."

His sweet words made you ache even more, grinding your heat against the shape of his cock. The free hand remaining on your hip moved, brushing over the wet spot you were making in your panties. A small shout escaped you, nerves throbbing at the feeling of his thumb brushing against your clit over the thin cloth.

You looked at him, all his glory as he stared hungrily down at your panties. This thumb was brushing over your clit through your underwear, watching as the wet spot increased.

"Is it that, baby," he breathed, glancing up at your spent face. Nodding, you spread your legs further, mewling as his index finger dipped them to the side. He brushed over your fluttering hole, paying attention to the way you arched your back.

Eyes closing involuntarily, your breath hitched as you felt his two of his fingers playing at your entrance. Your thoughts jumbled, focusing only on the feeling of his digits slowly pushing in. You mewled, white heat crossing over your body as they pushed in further, beginning to slowly pumping in and out of you.

"Fuck Steve, m-more." You couldn't hold back anymore, your hand reached up to grab his at your breast. Blinking your eyes slowly, you stared into his hooded ones, watching as he removed himself from you. He fumbled at his waistline, pushing his pants low enough to free his cock, swollen and dripping with need.

You reached out to it, pulling him closer. Your lips met again, a desperate connection of the moment as his fingers rake through your hair. He tasted like spearmint and the remnants of his beer, breath heavy against yours as his cock rubbed against your center.

He pushed your white panties to the side, his cock in hand as it rubbed against your wet entrance. You couldn't get enough, arching your hips so you could feel him closer, hard and firm.

He guided himself within you, stretching you wide. You couldn't tell if it was him or you at this point, throbbing with desperation as your hips bucked wanting to feel him closer.

Steve stopped at the hilt, hips flush against yours as your legs locked behind his thighs.

"Good?" He asked, breath heavy at this point and words incoherent. He went back and forth between squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stare into yours. Your tightness throbbed around him, clouding his thoughts with the feeling of wanting to take you fast and rough.

"Yes, baby, more."

You pulled him even closer to you, the hook of your ankle rubbing against his pants bunched up at his thigh. Only now did you realize, he was still wearing his uniform, wrinkled and bunched up, exposing only his groin and the bottom of his stomach. The desperation of this moment fueling him to see you in your glory, wanting to have access to you as fast as possible. You watched as he reared his hips back only to push into you once more, slowly but feverish in their movement.

He began to roll his hips, urging moans and pants out of your mouth. He kisses them away, swallowing them as you become louder with each thrust of his hips. The pleasure fills your body, drawing you closer and closer towards that breaking point as his hips continue.

His hands are at your hips, fingers gripping your ass as you sit on the counter, sliding back and forth with each movement he makes. His nails leave little half moon marks as his knuckles grow white, fucking into you relentlessly.

Ah, fuck and yes, baby and you like that escapes his mouth, mouth agape as he watches you unfold in his grasp.

You're almost pissed off at him, at yourself, for not doing this sooner. But the thought escapes your mind, the feeling of euphoria dripping over you as he brushes over something deep inside you. Shock waves took over you as a white heat came over you, exploding and tingling throughout your spine.

Your mind was clouded as you rode through the shock waves, pulsing around him as he thrusted deeper, closer towards his own peak. A low, guttural noise escaped him as you felt him release deep inside. His chest heaves as he rides through it, burying his face into your shoulder. A bite mark was left in its place, the feeling of stickiness between your thighs as he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you with a small moan.

He brushed over your slit one more time, over stimulation coursing through you with a small yelp.

Steve's face was buried into your shoulder, nipping and kissing at the bitten skin there as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. His skin was slightly damp from the high, his chest rising and falling against yours.

"Can I tell you something, yn?" His voice was in a whisper.

You nodded, losing all words. He chuckled, leaning his head back so he could look you in your eyes.

"I knew you felt that way," he supplied, coy smile on his face. Your eyes widened as you hit his chest, laugh erupting out of him. "I felt the same."

"Steve!"

"I was just waiting for you to make the first move. I can't be King Steve when I'm with you."

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[saltwaterburns]

who do you think is more likely to cry during sex: Dick or Jason

Okay, okay, so. Hear me out. It's 100% Jason.

BECAUSE. Now listen very closely. Jason isn't some super sexy and hunky sex god who wants to tie you up and overstimulate you and call you kitten. Jason Peter Todd is a boy in a man's body, in his head still skinny and scrawny with lanky limbs and no experience in the romance world whatsoever.

Jason Todd is so, so inexperienced for his age, and you would have to teach him. Teach him how to kiss a girl, how and where exactly to touch. Where to be gentle and where to apply a little more pressure. He'd listen to you with wide, unblinking eyes, taking in every word like you're spreading gospel. He'd rather die again than to touch you wrong because you've been so patient with him, so forgiving and kind that he wouldn't, couldn't dream of touching you wrong.

And when it finally gets to sex, you know so well that he's a whimpering, gasping mess above you. Holding himself up on his hands, you caged between his arms. His cock is working inside you, in and out in slow, deep thrusts and you're so warm and wet and tight he's trying so hard not to bust before you. But you're an angel under him, hands brushing over every inch of his skin you can reach, kind reassurances spilling from your lips.

"So good, baby. Just like that; you're makin' me feel so good."

And he becomes so overwhelmed with every sensation surrounding him: your touch, your scent, your voice, your cunt. It feels so good and he feels so undeserving and before you know it, hot tears are rolling over your collarbone, the boy man above you silently letting tears fall down his cheeks.

And you love him for that. More than anything.

[zephyrchama]

It was a lovely afternoon, and you were enjoying a lovely chat with the crown prince of the Devildom. Diavolo was glad to have a break from work, as well as an excuse not to return to it.

That is, until Barbatos appeared. The butler asked his charge to please return to the urgent matters on his desk. Break time was over.

Diavolo frowned. He did not want to work anymore. He had been diligently fulfilling his duties for a week now with no complaints. He peered at the desk, with its mountain of paperwork. He peered at Barbatos, whose smile thinly masked a threatening disposition. He peered at you, a sad and helpless expression on his face.

"We're going to have to leave our conversation here. I am so sorry," Diavolo lamented. He approached you with outstretched arms.

Thinking of a hug, you met him with equally outstretched arms. "It's okay, you can message me la-"

Anything you were about to say disappeared from your mind as Diavolo picked you up. There was resolution in his eyes. There was no going back now. In haste, he threw you at Barbatos.

The butler's cool facade broke as he scrambled to catch you in a graceful hold, cautious to minimize any damage to your body. Though, you felt his bony fingers dig into your sides as Barbatos gripped you tightly. He was furious.

Diavolo was already out the door and down the hall, looking for somewhere he could hide for at least another five minutes before returning to work. Though it was regrettable he could not spend any more time with you, this was a necessary action to distract Barbatos.

He would never forget your noble sacrifice.

[graceful-ashes]

Hen and Chimney casually mentioned that Eddie doesn't get flustered. Buck who's sat nearby on his phone doesn't even look up when he offhandedly says 'Yeah, he does.' Hen and Chim look at him dubiously.

'When?' Chim asks.

Buck looks up, now. 'Like all the time.'

'Name one time' Chim challenges.

'I'm with Chim on this one. I've never really seen Eddie flustered.'

Now Buck is the one looking dubious. 'Um, like when...uh...' His mind suddenly goes blank.

'See. You can't even give an example.' Chim gloats.

'Hey, no that's not fair. You put me on the spot.' Buck argues. 'He...like yesterday! He made me a coffee and said he'd already put sugar in it, yeah? And I said that's so sweet of you. And he blushed!'

'Are you sure he was blushing.' Hen asks clearly not buying it.

'Yeah, maybe he was just warm.' Chim counters.

'I'm telling you, he blushed!' Buck exclaims.

Hen and Chimney continue to look at him sceptically.

'Prove it.' Chimney challenges

'What?'

'Prove. It.' Chimney grins.

Buck just stares in disbelief for a moment before he caves. 'Alright, fine. I'll prove it. I'll get him flustered and you can see for yourself.'

This is how Buck ends up making a fool of himself later in the day when they're just finishing up on a call and Eddie is just frowning at him, confused, not at all effected by Bucks lame attempt to get him flustered.

Buck walks back towards Hen and Chimney in defeat. 'We're out on a call, he probably just has his guard up.' Buck defends.

'Uh huh.' is Hen's response to that. Chimney just snaps his gum, grinning.

Buck attempts a cheesy one liner when they're back at the firehouse. This earns him a part way baffled and part way amused chuckle from Eddie when he responds with 'Alright.' looking to Chim and Hen with an ~Are you seeing this?~ expression. Hen and Chim just hide their amusement behind their mugs.

Buck tries a few more times before giving up.

'Fine. You guys were right. Eddie is unflappable. I clearly don't know what I was talking about.'

'Hey, at least it was fun to watch you try.' Chimney teases. Hen smiles in amusement.

And that was that until much later on when Buck is cooking dinner and Eddie is helping. Buck comes up behind Eddie to reach for something over his shoulder and without thinking says 'Man, you smell good!' He turns his head just shy of pressing his nose to Eddie's neck. 'What is that?'

The spatula in Eddie's hand clatters to the floor and in his panic to attempt to catch it he elbows over the salt shaker. A deep red creeps up his neck and settles in his cheeks as he rights the salt shaker. He clears his throat. 'Uh, it's, uh ,the cologne you...um got me for my birthday last year.' Eddie attempts to compose himself and bends down to pick up the spatula.

'Really?' Buck asks surprised and oblivious to Eddie's flustered state leans in for another whiff. There's a THWACK sound and Eddie winces as pain blooms in his knee from where he knocked it against the counter.

Hen and Chimney are staring slack jawed from the couch.

'You were right.' Chimney admits, shell shocked.

'Huh?' Buck lifts his head to look at Chimney and Hen. Eddie also snapping his attention in their direction.

'He does get flustered. So very flustered.' Chim says in a daze. 'Not unflappable. Not unflappable at all...'

Eddie frowns in complete bafflement, his face still beet red. 'What?'

[lovebugism]

Smut fic where reader and Eddie have been arguing since yesterday and he comes home from band practice and fucks her.

♡ “i was expecting a written apology but this is much better.”

ty for requesting :D — the best part of fighting with eddie, is making up with eddie (established relationship, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ | 1k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

Eddie returns home from band practice to find the trailer brimming with the scent of something sweet. An entire symphony of chocolate and vanilla and caramel — a stark contrast to the stale stench of Gareth’s garage.

He spots you standing in front of the stove, humming mindlessly to yourself as you whisk at a large bowl of miscellaneous ingredients. You’re wearing a too-big sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder, and a pair of fluffy socks sitting unevenly at your ankles. The sight of you is undeniably sweeter than whatever it is you’re baking for him.

Eddie leaves his guitar case by the front door and floats towards the kitchen with a lopsided smile. “Ooh. Smells good in here,” he lilts in place of a real greeting as he drapes himself along your back. 

He caresses your arm with one ringed hand while the other reaches around you. He dips his pointer finger into the bowl and brings it up to his mouth, humming at the sugary taste on his tongue. “You know— I was expecting a handwritten apology,” he slurs before swallowing it down. “But this is so muchbetter.”

You dig your elbow into his ribs. Eddie winces and stumbles back.

“It’s not for you,” you correct, gaze averted as you dump a bowl of dry ingredients into the chocolate gold. “It’s for Hopper. For saving your ass.”

The reminder makes Eddie groan. After all, it wasn’t his fault that asshole got too handsy with you at the bar. He didn’t even realize he’d punched the guy until his knuckles collided with his chiseled nose. (He thought for sure his hand was broken then, but the bruises look totally metal now.) 

The cookie-cutter douchebag was hellbent on pressing charges. Chief Hopper assured the asshole that the freak would be spending the night in jail, but instead drove Eddie home in the back of his cop car. He got the talking-to of a century then, from Jim and from you — ‘cause apparently some guy flirting with you isn’t grounds for ‘assault.’ Eddie still thinks that may be too harsh a word.

He tosses his head back, wild curls slipping from his shoulders, as the counter digs into his hip. “You’re still upset about that?” he whines boyishly, then cowers at the glare you give him. “I mean… I didn’t know you were still upset about that,” he amends, more sympathetically this time.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, you should be the one apologizing to me, Munson,” you tell him, whisking the filling with a bit more aggression than you mean to. “Or better yet, the guy you punched last night—”

“No way.”

“—You almost broke his nose.”

“Oh, please,” Eddie laughs. “He was just being a baby about it.”

“He wasn’t even doing anything to deserve it!”

“He was bothering you!”

“He was talking to me!” you shout, much harsher than he’s used to. Your eyes glitter despite the way they’ve hardened as they dart back and forth between his darker ones. “And if I can’t have a conversation with some stupid guy without you flying off the handle, then I can’t imagine what you’ll do when some idiot buys me a drink.”

Eddie softens immediately. He didn’t know you felt that way.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, gravitating towards you with unsure steps and reaching for you with a hesitant hand. When you don’t pull away from his touch, he embraces you from behind — arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting on your belly, chin bobbing on your shoulder. “Though, I’m pretty sure that’s not what you wanna hear from me right now. ‘Cause I told you I was sorry ’til I was blue in the face last night, and you still made me sleep on the couch, so…”

You can hear the crooked smile in his softly spoken words.

You fight hard to bite back your own.

“Well, maybe I’m tired of hearing how sorry you are. Maybe I just want you to prove it.” You set the bowl on the counter and skim your pointer finger over the freshly mixed concoction. “Here, open—”

His pink mouth parts. You slide your finger over the soft pad of his tongue, giving him a proper taste of the filling now that it’s finished. Eddie hums at the bittersweet taste — the sickly sugar sufficiently balanced with sea salt. He nods in wordless approval while you lick the remnants from your own finger.

“You know what would taste better, though?” he wonders aloud once he’s swallowed it down, tone dripping in mischief as his tongue darts across his lip.

Your eyes narrow. “Eddie…” you deadpan in a preemptive scold.

The boy only smirks as he coaxes you against the counter with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You grip the granite edge as he descends to his knees before you, his chocolate-eyed gaze never once wavering from yours. 

“You want me to prove it to you, right?” he asks, bruised knuckles lifting the hem of your shirt. “How sorry I am?”

You nod silently, ‘cause you couldn’t muster a cheeky quip right now if you wanted to.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Eddie tells you, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your thigh. You bite back a shiver when his wild curls brush the insides of them. Chills pebble faintly over the skin there, and he smiles. “I’m sorry,” he says once more, punctuated this time by a kiss to the bow of your underwear.

Your breath catches when his pointer finger dips beneath the panty line. His rings brush your burning skin as he slides the fabric to the side. Eddie smirks when he catches your unwavering gaze, as glassy as the sparkling skin of your wet pussy. You can act all mean when you want to, but your body can never pretend with him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, just before licking a fat stripe up the length of your cunt.

Your lips fall softly agape at the warm, satin feeling of his mouth pressed against the most sensitive parts of you. Your head tilts back as your airy moan fills the silent kitchen. The pie you were making is now long forgotten. You’re much sweeter in comparison, anyway.

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] Muscle Pain Relief

LIs react when you experience muscle aches from exercising. They tend to your pain and get just the tiniest bit side-tracked. Genre: fluff; Tw: suggestiveness (a lot of it)

SYLUS

"Really now? A trial class at the gym did this? I thought you'd be more resilient." Sylus smirks as you groan, his fingers pressing into a particularly stubborn knot between your shoulder blades.

You glare over your shoulder. "I am. I just got too ambitious and chose the advanced class,"

"Mhm." He flicks on a sleek massage device, its hum quickly soothing the pain, making you sigh and melt against the pleasant sensation.

The device stops.

He chuckles when you let out a disappointed whine. “Ambition comes at a cost. But I'll gladly help you repay it,”

His free hand massages your shoulder, then he traces the curve of your neck lightly with his finger, trailing near your collarbones.

The moment his finger dips under your collarbone, you hiss, jerking away from his touch- just to collide backwards into his chest.

“Does it hurt, or were you just… sensitive?" He asks, voice low and the slightest bit rougher.

“Hurts,"You grumble.

That workout did a number on your pectorals- you had no idea the chest muscle would be connected all the way to your stupid collarbone.

Sylus, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life.

You feel him press a kiss to your shoulder, then you neck-

“I'll take your word for it, Miss Hunter,"he says lightly, but with the way his breath fans across your skin and how his fingers trace feather-light circles at the skin below your collarbones, his free hand gripping your waist just a bit tighter- you know he has more on his mind. And so do you, because the air feels electrified, warm and dark with anticipated promises.

“Excuse you, Mr Physio," you fire back weakly, “This isn't the service I was promised,”

"Patience," he purrs, watching your frustration with amusement. "You will be granted everything you requested for… if you tell me everything that's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now,"

Your face flushes red. What an absolute, infuriating tease.

“I will... if you tell me what's on your mind too,”

“Negotiating now, kitten?” He says with a chuckle. “How about I show you?”

___

XAVIER

You all but collapse onto the bed after your shower, the accumulated fatigue from work and an intense stress-relief gym session feeling like a crate of sandbags on your shoulders.

You lie belly-down and prop your chin on your forearms, then immediately regretting the motion when you feel the muscle ache radiate through your upper back.

“Ow,” you mumble into the blanket under you.

Chirpy music comes to a halt when Xavier pauses his game, tossing his phone to one side.

“What's wrong?” He says, voice laced with concern.

You turn your head to look at him. “Just… the gym. No Wanderers to blame this time.”

"You pushed yourself hard today," Xavier murmurs, his palms warm against your sore shoulders. "It’s admirable… but let me ease the aftermath."

You go limp under his gentle touch, his thumbs circling the tension with just enough pressure. "Mmm… how are you this good at this?"

"Practice," he says innocently- but then his fingers dip under your shirt and inch up your back. "Though this… is purely self-indulgent."

“Xavi-”

“Hmm?” His hands smoothly trace your shoulder blades, following the groove until they're tracing down, all the way down to the small of your back.

Your breath hitches. He smiles, slow and knowing.

"Shh," he whispers, lips grazing your ear as he gently presses on sore muscles. "I will only ease your discomfort tonight. I won't get greedy. But once you’re recovered… I’ll show you other ways to relax after training,”

___

ZAYNE

Over dessert, you mentioned casually that your muscle pain onset was quicker than usual. Zayne nodded, and the night seemed to continue as usual.

That is, until you struggle to change into loungewear at home.

The act of taking your t-shirt off made your muscles protest, and once you wrestled it off, you picked a flannel, because to hell with anything that needed you to raise your arms higher than your shoulder.

Zayne, ever the observant lover, interrogated you for the odd choice of clothing.

A few moments later, you sit at the side of the bed while he kneels on the mattress behind you.

Zayne’s examination is brusque with efficiency- fingers prodding, joints tested. "Minor strain. Temporary pain is expected, but nothing crippling."

You pout. "Wow. Such clinical precision."

"I’m a surgeon, not a physio," he deadpans, but moves to retrieve a pain-relief cream anyway.

“May I-?” He asks softly, uncapping the bottle.

You nod, his question innocent and practical, but the implication of being under his watchful gaze as you unbutton your shirt makes your face heat up.

His touch is meticulous, smoothing the gel over your skin with unexpected tenderness.

Your heart skips, fluttering warmth spreading through your chest. It's nice when Zayne takes care of you like this.

And thank heavens you're not going through a cardiac assessment right now, because you'd be mortified at the stats- and Zayne would be equal parts amused and exasperated.

When you sigh, his fingers stutter. "…Does that hurt?"

"No," you murmur, locking eyes with him. "Feels good."

You see a familiar hunger seep into his eyes, and he looks away. "Don’t- don’t say it like that."

“What?” You ask coyly, tracing his jaw and feeling him lean subtly into your touch.

He exhales through his nose, calm, measured. Like he's trying to stop himself from unravelling.

He catches your hand and threads your fingers together. “At least let me take care of you first, before you continue with your mischief,”

Knowing Zayne, that in itself is both a permission and a promise.

___

RAFAYEL

It was a mistake to stretch, the familiar motion- or attempt at raising your arms high above your head.

You're now at the mercy of all the tight knots in your body drilling pain into your soul.

Rafayel, of course, notices immediately and ushers you into his room in a flurry of questions, prodding, and nuzzles (“my cutie deserves a spa treatment for training so hard today!”)

And so, here you are, in Rafayel's ornately decorated ensuite bathroom.

"Magnesium salt! Magic for muscles!" Rafayel says excitedly, dumping a suspicious amount into the steaming bath. "Trust me, Miss Bodyguard. I’m an artist- we invented suffering for our craft!"

Rafayel then drizzles lavender oil into the bath.

"This’ll make you glow like… like a bioluminescent jellyfish," he declares, pushing up the sleeve of his bathrobe and testing the water with his elbow.

Seeming satisfied, he offers you a hand. "Your magical healing bath awaits,"

You eye the water warily. "It won’t turn me purple, right?"

"Pfft. I wish it really did that. I'd even want to create a bath that gives you a beautiful iridescent glow, my cutie. But, until I figure out how to do that, it is only pleasantly scented mineral water,"

He guides you in, "Now relax.”

The moment you sink in, he gasps, "Wait-! I forgot something-”

Before you can turn your head, he’s shrugging off the bathrobe. And then you yelp- he joins you, towel barely clinging to his hips once he lowers himself into the bath behind you. "Raf- why are you in here?!"

"Can't forget me, your favourite fishie," He beams at you and splashes lazily. "…Also, it's easier to give you a massage this way."

His hand finds your shoulders, and as you melt into his gentle massages, you realise- he does have a knack for all things involving self-care and pampering, and he is never frugal about it when it comes to you.

___

CALEB

You know he rushed back from work once he saw you text him a few complaints about your aching muscles, because he’s still wearing the pressed white shirt that he usually layers under the colonel jacket. Normally, he’d change into a tee before heading home.

He’s seated you on the yoga mat, and you’re watching some home renovation show on the TV while Caleb manoeuvres your arms. A semi-permanent grimace is etched on your face from the sore muscle groups being recruited into unwanted movements.

“Focus, pipsqueak. Stop holding your breath,”

Caleb’s hands are firm, guiding you through stretches designed for fleet pilots to enhance post-mission recovery.

"Next part’s gonna hurt," he warns. "But it’ll help. Breathe through it."

You whimper as he presses into your shoulder deeper- and instantly, his grip loosens. "Too much?"

"Nuh-No, just… intense."

His ears redden at your breathy tone. "You- uh- gotta stop making those noises."

You grin at how flustered he looks. "Or what?"

“Or else,” He corrects, his expression morphing into one that foreshadows breathy whispers and heated touches that leave you shaking.

A hand tips your chin up, and his lips graze your earlobe.

“Or else- I won’t be able to hold back, and you won’t be able to handle it, not in your state,”

“Caleb- aha.. Ha, I know. I’m just- just kidding,” you breathe, cheeks bright red.

“Of course you are,” he says, voice low as he continues with the massage. “Now stay still for me.”

[rexhya]

Idk if ur requests r open, but im feeling real bad for Anul 😭🙏 bro never became king in these shorts so could I request him finally becoming king? With any version of Y/N…

yandere!prince who's now 3 days away from his conornation snd couldnt be more excited.

not just for you, who he's been dutifully been courting since you stepped inside the palace walls and who is set to be his bride after the main ceremony but for the complete and total acess he'll have, he's hungry on power to say the least.

you on the other hand have been stressed to no ends, only told two weeks in advance that you would be marrying the man, completely unaware his affections would go so far, but who were you to refuse the prince, and now, soon to be king?

the maids had been helping, teaching you basic  etiquette and simultaneously making preparations for everything you would need. you almost felt like a real noble untill you saw the prince, returned from a trip, glowing. ethereal.

you wanted to cry, how was your face surgery to stand next to that? his obsessions weren't supposed to go this far.

anul didn't think so, the moment he saw you he scooped you up in his hands, twirling you around like he'd been gone for a month. (to him it felt like he had)

"oh my sweet, i missed your scent." he snuggled into your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"and you, my prince." he pulled away, smiling the widest you've ever seen.

"don't you mean king?"

you looked at him, a soft puff od air leavijg your lips. "not quite."

anul only smiles, trying not to squeal at the thought of his forever with you, his endgame.

✦ ✦

when the day finally comes, your nervous to say the least. you body is wracked with emotions you can't explain but you know ones things for certian, you walk down this isle, and you life changes forever.

anul is crying when you get there, it's soft and impossibly sweet, and unoticable to anyone that wasn't you or the officiant.

he shaking as the man speaks, "and do you Anul Lamour The IV, take [First Name] [Last Name] to be your lawfully wedded wife."

he almost says yes before he finishes, he's never been so excited and nervous to kiss you before, and then it's final, bonded forever souls intertwined like they were never meant to be apart.

and they werent.

[khywren]

The first time Astarion makes love to you is an absolutely unforgettable experience.

Sure, it's not the first time the two of you have had sex, but this... this is something entirely different.

Once he feels safe with you, there's no sense of urgency, no need for him to do what he thinks will keep you interested in him for more than a fleeting moment. He's not putting on a performance anymore or just going through the motions. It's evident in the way he holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world, and in the way his hands eagerly map out your body. He makes a mental note of everything that brings you pleasure, and he can't get enough of the sweet little sounds you make for him and him alone.

He loves burying his face in the crook of your neck and whispering endearments into your ear, and especially adores the way it makes your cheeks flush when he tells you how beautiful you are. He means every word of it.

At last, he sinks into you, taking his time with slow, deep rolls of his hips that almost leave you breathless. He kisses you just as passionately, hands sliding into your hair while he loses himself in the way you feel beneath him, warm and alive and undeniably his.

Your eyes meet when you both come undone, and the way you look at him with nothing but love and trust and devotion is just one more reminder of just how much he cherishes you.

(inspired by this lovely post from @bloodsuckingfiends - got me kicking my feet and everything) ETA: ended up expanding this one into an actual fic after all!

[staytrueblue]

captain john price x female reader. mentions of sexual actions. those who feel inspired can continue the story bcs i dont feel comfortable writing smut yet <3

It had been a long fucking day. You’re exhausted when you finally curl up on your side of the bed, phone in hand, newest fanfiction chapter pulled up.

The tension is steadily building in your friends to lovers fic when you feel it.

Strong arms wrapping around your waist, hot breath, and rough whiskers against your neck. A warm body pressing itself against your side of the massive king-sized bed.

“Babe.”

“Mumph.”

“What was the point of a king-sized bed if you shove me off the side every night.”

You feel the body shift backward a little bit, bringing you with him into the center of the bed.

Sighing you snuggle in, going back to ao3 as you feel his rough palm sliding across your stomach and waist pulling you closer against the hardness of his body.

Ignoring the heat pressed behind you, you try to focus on the story in front of you. The characters now actively in the miscommunication trope as you feel large hips start to rut against the softness of your ass.

“Johnathan Michael Price.”

The rutting stops as the grown ass man whines from behind you.

Setting your phone on the nightstand stand you shift around, a bearded pouting face looking at you.

There are days you are so happy that he feels safe and comfortable enough to put down the walls and boundaries built up by the military when he’s around you. That he isn’t Captain Price in your home or in this bed.

It’s been an exceptionally long day, however, and patience for the pouting and rutting and touching is at its limit. But his eyes were wide and sweet as he watched you.

“John.” You say softer.

“Just missed you lovie.” His voice rumbled as he rubbed his face against the pillow like a cat.

“Baby you’ve been home for a month now.”

His voice came muffled from the pillow his face was now shoved into “Still not enough.”

“Hmm.” You reach out, brushing your fingers through his chest hair gently. He wilts into it, settling back into the bed.

“Just need some attention baby?”

“Mmm”, a hand reached around to your chest groping gently.

————————————————————————

those who feel inspired can take it from here :)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: innocence/corruption

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral and handjob, daddy kink, lots of pet names including kitten/good girl/princess/baby, corruption kink from rafe but hes still very sweet, one instance of pussy slapping lol, mild degradation, use of slut

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana

“i bet you’re so wet right now.” rafe whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i’m not.” you pout, not even fully understanding what he’s saying, mind still fuzzy from the intense kiss he just gave you.

“liar.” rafe smirks, hands still placed on your waist from when he pulled you onto his lap and flush against his body.

“i’m not a liar!” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as rafe just lets out a chuckle.

“you are.” rafe says, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against your lips, and even though it only lasts seconds, your head begins to feel dizzy again and you lean forward, seeking out more.

“little slut.” rafe whispers as your forehead presses against his shoulder, unable to keep your eyes on his as your chest presses into his. “i can feel your nipples getting hard.” you sit up suddenly, feeling your face get hot as your cheeks blush. you over your breasts with your hands. “they are not.” “move your hands then.” rafe commands, but you press them harder against your chest, willing your nipples to settle down, but when rafe reaches up and rips your hands away, you know he can easily see the hard buds poking out from under the fabric of your shirt.

“i knew it. liar.” rafe cups your breasts, keeping his hands to the outside of them, manipulating them beneath your shirt as the toys with how they sit on your chest.

you should tell him to stop, but you can’t get the words out. rafes thumb suddenly swipes over your nipple and you jump up off his lap.

“now you’re definitely wet.” rafe says, eyes on your pussy that is now level with his face.

“no, i’m not!” you say again, even as you feel something unfamiliar stirring in your stomach. “you’re being a bad boyfriend right now!”

“the only thing that would make me a bad boyfriend, sweetheart, is if i didn’t take care of my girls pussy when it got wet for me.”

“it’s not wet!” you whine, cutting rafe off before he can say something, “and don’t call me a liar again!” rafe closes his mouth in a hum, eyes coming to meet your face. “then show me.” “what?” you question, glancing down your body.

“if you’re not wet, show me your pussy. let me see.” rafe is staring up at you expectantly, and the flame burning inside of you speaks before the logical part of your brain can. 

you humph and pull your shorts down your legs, leaving you bare. rafes eyes widen, expecting a second layer underneath.

“open up, kitten.” rafe taps your thigh, and you spread your tightly clenched thighs just slightly, revealing a mess of sticky wetness. rafe smiles up at you, and you want to cry out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly for lying to your boyfriend about not being sopping wet.

“there. you’ve seen. i’m a liar, now let me put my shorts back o- ahhh!” you let out a scream as rafes hands land on your hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sat at as his lips attack to your clit, forcing his head between your legs as they part so you don’t lose your balance. 

“rafe!” you scream, reaching over him and holding onto the back of the couch as he tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking up the wetness you claimed wasn’t there.

you let out a series of moans as he focuses directly on your clit, bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before. you know in that moment that there’s no going back, no going back to the innocence you once possessed as you reach a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face further into your cunt.

“admit it.” rafe mumbles against your pussy, only pulling away slightly to speak, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice. “admit that me kissing you made you this wet.” “f-fine.” you cry out as his lips wrap around your clit, giving it a suck that makes you see stars. “fine! yes! you got me all wet.”

“you lied.” rafe pulls away fully, and you try to push his head back between your legs, but he won’t let you. “you lied to your boyfriend. i thought you said we would always tell each other the truth.”

you didn’t trust rafe when he first asked you out. you were new to the outer banks and came from a very sheltered life, so when you finally agreed to be his girlfriend, you made sure some rules were put into place. you didn’t even think to include anything about sex, you’ve never experienced it before.

“i’m sorry.” you pout, the shame about the lie now mixing in with how dirty you feel.

“i’ll forgive you, baby.” rafe tugs you down onto his lap, depositing you on his knee so you’re now face to face. “i’ll forgive you if you’re very good for me tonight and do everything i say.” “okay.” you whisper, not wanting rafe to be mad at you. you blink back the tears that have welled up in your eyes, you cunt clenching around nothing as you wish for his mouth back on you again, back delivering the world-changing pleasure.

“good kitten.” rafe says, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a soft kiss, but you don’t want soft now that he’s shown you so much more. you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth slightly for rafes tongue, granting him permission as your own tongue tangles with his.

you lean forward to get a better angle, but also end up pressing your cunt into his thigh. you moan into his mouth, rocking forward against his jeans, no doubt leaving a large wet spot as you continue to move.

you don’t even realize that rafe has stopped kissing you, sitting back to watch you get yourself off on his leg. you place your hands on his chest, pushing your clit directly into the muscle.

rafe gives his leg a sudden bounce, making your legs widen. you cry out, eyes closing as you grind down.

rafes hands land on your hips, and you hope he’s going to help, but instead he forces you to stop, shifting you so you’re not lined up anymore. “no, rafe, stop-” you whine, opening your eyes to see his stern expression greeting yours.

“dirty sluts get themselves off like this. i thought you were my good kitten, not a dirty slut.” rafe says, making you almost cower at the harshness in his tone.

“i am good.” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip, and rafe can’t hold back the urge to lean forward and bite it, tugging you back into a ravishing kiss, only pulling away when you’re both out of breath.

“good girls also don’t lose their virginity on a couch. let me take you up to bed, princess.” you just nod, standing up off rafes lap, who only lets you stand for a moment until he’s up, sweeping you into his arms.

“wh-what do good girls do when losing their virginity?” you whisper as he climbs the stairs, feeling your face redden again.

“good girls do as their boyfriends say. and you’re gonna do so good honey, no reason to be nervous.” rafe kisses your cheek as he sets you down on his lush bed, closing the door behind him, hoping that will make you feel a bit more comfortable despite being completely alone in the house.

rafe stands next to the bed as he tips your head up, giving you a sweet kiss that has your nerves fluttering away. he smiles down at you, a wickedness shining through, not able to be fully concealed. 

“can you…” you mumble, and then stop, remembering that you’re supposed to listen to your boyfriend, not tell him to do things.

“it’s okay, baby, ask.” rafe asks, giving you the permission you needed to speak.

“can you take your shirt off?” you ask, surprised at your ability to keep eye contact while asking, remembering the time you went out on his boat and rafe took his shirt off, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him.

rafe doesn’t respond with words, instead pulling the tshirt off over his head and tossing it away. he takes your hand in his, placing it on his bare chest, giving you permission to touch.

you glide your hand over his smooth skin, admiring the way his muscles stand out. you move lower, eyes following your fingertips as you feel his abs, moving lower and lower until you get to the hem of his sweatpants. 

you let out a gasp when your eyes finally meet what’s right in front of your face. rafe is straining so hard through his sweatpants that you know it must be painful, the way he’s pushing against the fabric.

“what do… good girls do with this?” you ask, hoping rafe knows what you’re referring to.

“they touch it.” rafe says, taking your hand again and lowering it over his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardness, making him let out a grunt.

“that feels good?” you ask as you begin to rub your hand over it. 

“baby, it feels amazing.” rafe steps back, and you frown, going to ask him if he’s lying about it feeling good if he’s making you stop, but then he grabs his sweatpants and lowers them down, taking his underwear with him.

your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, a primal urge taking over as you reach back out, wrapping your fingers around his thick length. you’ve never seen a cock up close, and definitely not one as beautiful as the one your boyfriend possesses.

“fuck, your hands on me are heaven.” rafe moans, and you feel a flutter in your heart at the praise, beginning to stroke your hand up and down over his shaft, eyes occasionally traveling up to his face to make sure he’s still enjoying your movements.

you try different things, try faster, try slower, you even take your palm and rub it against the end of his cock, making rafe suddenly thrust forward with a moan. you can tell he likes it, but his reaction scares you slightly, so you keep to stroking his length.

“you want to know what else good kittens do?” rafe asks. he smiles when you quickly nod.

“they lick it.” he says, taking a step closer so he’s between your legs, not failing to notice the way your wetness has grown to leave a mark on his bed, but you’re so focused on him that you’ve forgotten the ache in your pussy.

“oh.” you say, leaning forward and taking an experimental lick of the head of his cock. you look up at rafe, swallowing the slightly salty taste that’s left on your tongue. 

“come on.” rafe encourages you, and you lean forward, licking again, relishing in the taste as you continue, covering the head of his cock with spit as you get into the feeling.

once you’re used to it, you begin to move your hand again, stroking it from base right up to his head where you continue exploring with your tongue.

“try sucking.” rafe says, and you only hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth, placing the head of his cock against your tongue. you close your lips over it, surprised how big it feels inside of your mouth.

you give a gentle suck before looking up, not wanting to hurt rafe. “harder.” he commands, and you close your eyes, focusing again as you give him a harsher suck. the moan rafe lets out spurs you to continue, caressing his cock with your tongue inside of your mouth as you continue to suck.

your hand, that was holding him steady at the base, begins to move again, and you develop a rhythm of sucking and stroking him when suddenly rafe pulls away, chest heaving as you swallow the remnants of his taste on your tongue.

“did i mess up?” you ask, making rafe let out a breathy laugh.

“no, baby, not at all. i just almost came.” he explains, reaching to run a hand through your hair.

“oh!” you say, eyes widening. you almost made him orgasm. you knew that was the end goal, but you never realized how good you were doing. you feel a bit of pride grow in your chest at that.

“you know, we can keep practicing until you eventually can suck all of me.” you glance down to his cock, eyes widening, wondering how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside of your mouth. 

“don’t worry now, darling.” rafe ducks and gives your forehead a kiss. “we will work up to it. for now, why don’t you take your shirt off then lay on the bed?” you had forgotten completely about your own pleasure, but at the reminder you realize how hard your nipples have grown, and how the need to have him back between your thighs has only gotten bigger as you sucked him off. 

you shuck your shirt off, no longer feeling as insecure now that rafe is naked. you scooch further up on the bed until you’re able to lay down on the pillows, watching as rafe paces at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he admires you, admires you like a predator does their prey before taking them down.

“spread your legs.” rafe commands, and you follow his instructions instantly, bearing your pussy to him.

rafe gets onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs. he runs his hands over your legs, trying to control himself, but the need to hear your moans again is too great.

he presses his thumb to your clit, easily rubbing over it due to your slickness. your back arches up off the bed, letting out a cry.

“good kitten, shh.” rafe says, bring his thumb up and sticks it in his mouth, tasting your wetness before quickly reconnecting. “i’m gonna touch you somewhere new.”

you barely register his words, too focused on the way your clit is pulsing with pleasure. your eyes that you hadn’t even realized had slid closed shoot open when the tip of rafes finger presses against your hole.

“rafe!” you squeal. you’ve never had anyone touch you there before.

“remember what i said about good kittens?” he reminds you. you take a deep breath, letting your body relax. you trust your boyfriend, and you need to make up for lying to him earlier. 

“good girl.” rafe presses his finger harder, until it breaks the seal of your hole. he could moan just from the first knuckle being inserted, knowing you’re going to squeeze his cock so tight.

his finger keeps pushing in, and you feel like it’s impossibly long. it’s uncomfortable for a moment, but his thumb continues to move over your clit, and the discomfort changes to pure elation as you feel a high rising over your body.

“stop, rafe, i think i’m gonna pee!” you warn, but his thumb continues to move, and he turns his hand so his finger quirks up, pressing against the spot inside of you that has you tumbling over the edge, entire body arching up as you moan, letting out a slew of words that sound like rafes name mixed with curses, curses that you never let pass your lips but you can’t help it now.

your entire body shakes as you feel wave after wave of pleasure, all from rafes adept hands. he slows his thumb on your clit and eventually stops when it pulses angrily underneath him, but he keeps the singular digit inside of you.

“did i pee?” you ask, afraid to even look down, unsure what just happened.

“no, baby, you just came. you had an orgasm.” rafe explains, placing his freehand on your outer thigh and rubbing it comfortingly.

“that felt…” you don’t know how it’s possible for you to blush anymore, but you do, “that felt really good.”

rafe smiles down at you, “i know honey, and i’m gonna help you feel another one since you’re such a good kitten. and you’re gonna help me cum too.”

“i’m gonna help you feel like that?” you ask, wanting to experience the intense feeling with your boyfriend.

“you are.” he nods. “this is why you’re such a good girl, we are gonna get to do this all the time now. i’ll show you how to orgasm with my cock, and with my tongue.” “i can cum on your tongue?” your eyes widen, remembering the way his soft but skillful tongue felt against you.

“you can.” rafe says, “but first, i need to open your pussy up with my fingers so i can fit my cock inside of you.” “i don’t know if it’s gonna ffffff-” you’re cut off as rafe begins to move his finger again. 

“i’ll fit baby, don’t worry.” rafe says, feeling how good you’ve already opened up for him. your body lays slack against the mattress, and he’s glad that you got to your orgasm so quickly so he can focus on opening you up while you’re relaxed.

he moves until his singular digit pushes easily into you. he looks up to find your eyes closed, taking deep breaths as you attempt to keep your body relaxed, but you do tense up momentarily when a second finger joins in pressing against your entrance.

before you can even freak out, they are both plunging inside of you, moving easier due to your wetness.

“baby girl, you’re making me so proud.” rafe says, and he swears you actually start to glow under his praise. his innocent little girlfriend, somehow managing to remain sweet even as he finger fucks you.

“can you… touch my clit again?” you ask, swallowing thickly.

“no, princess. next time you cum i want it to be on my cock. i’ll touch your clit then.” rafe says, noticing the face you make. “don’t pout or you won’t cum at all.”

you wipe the frown off your face, really wanting to feel what it’s like to orgasm with rafes cock inside you, even if it looks too large.

“i’m gonna scissor my fingers now, kitten.” rafe warns, and you let out a moan as he starts to open up his fingers, pressing them against your walls to make space for himself.

“there you go.” rafe mumbles, eyes on your cunt as you loosen. he can barely stand to wait any longer as he gently pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth to get another taste of you.

“t-time for your cock?” you ask, whispering the last word so quietly that rafe can barely hear you.

“yes, time for my cock. be a good girl and stay relaxed.” rafe considers what position will be best for you before grabbing a pillow that you’re not resting your head against, and moving it to underneath your hips. he moves closer on the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy.

as soon as he brushes your entrance, you tense up.

“hey.” rafe warns, pulling his hips back as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy, right over your clit that has you crying out. “i said relax.” “sorry.” you whimper, taking a deep breath as rafe lines himself up again. he pushes his hips forward, moaning as the head of his cock is concealed by your tight heat, walls constricting him but he’s able to keep moving as you stay relaxed.

“good girl.” rafe praises you as he sinks in, pausing to move at a snail pace when you squirm or make a noise of discomfort.

eventually, his hips are settled right between your thighs, pressed as deeply as they can go. as much as rafe wants to go feral, he doesn’t want to cause you too much pain, so he lets you have a moment to adjust.

“so big inside me daddy.” you whimper, unsure of where the name came from.

“daddy, huh?” the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “maybe you’re not a good girl after are, maybe you are a dirty slut.” “i’m no-oooo!” you scream as rafe beings to move, his hips pulling away and then slamming back in. your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his cock moving against your walls, every inch feeling so sensitive.

“you’re not a dirty slut? because this is exactly how dirty sluts behave when they have their daddies cock inside of them.” rafe moves faster when he feels that you’re only getting wetter.

“i wanna be your good kitten.” you whine, hands grasping at the sheets.

“hmm.” rafe slows down so he can feel every inch of you, using his cock to memorize the way you feel around him. “maybe you’re my good girl and my dirty slut. can you be both for me baby?” “i can, i can.” you whine, feeling tears slide down your face. rafe keeps one hand stabilizing your hip and uses the other to swipe his thumb across your cheeks to collect your tears.

“be my slut and my princess. cum on my cock for me.” rafe wants to last longer, he really does, but now that he knows how dirty you can be when he pushes you, especially the way you reacted to him slapping your pussy, he knows this is by far the last time you let him play with your body.

he speeds up, his cock swelling inside of you as he rubs you clit again, as promised. you moan consistently, unable to control your voice as you get closer and closer to the edge, now able to identify the feeling as it hits you hard.

rafes cock hits your insides just right, and you explode at the same time as him, your cunt squeezing repeatedly in your orgasm, milking all of the cum out of him as he shouts your name, releasing himself as deeply as he can.

you are both breathing heavily when rafe falls forward, pressing his body against yours. you whine at the change of position in his cock as he keeps it lodged deep inside of you.

“was i good?” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw as rafe picks his head up.

“you were so good, princess. such a dirty little whore for me.” rafe kisses you in earnest, delighting in the way your lips slide over each others, even more open to the make out now than you were before you had sex. “gonna be your good little slut from now on.” you whisper against his lips, surprised to feel rafes cock twitch inside of you as he rehardens slightly.

rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips, “i know you will, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

[bunnyscryptarchived]

sleepy cockwarming w/ jason

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

jason slept soundly next to you. his soft breaths usually calming to lull you to sleep but all you could do was toss and turn. huff and puff. aggressively fixing your pillow to try and get comfortable but to no avail. it’s just hot. feeling sweaty and sticky. your clothes feel wet against your skin. kicking your leg in frustration, tears well up in your eyes. you hurry to rid off your clothes letting out a sigh of relief as cool air hits your bare body but it’s still not enough.

looking to jason, laying on his stomach. black tee adorning his body. arms resting under his pillow, he looks so peaceful. so handsome. you feel bad just thinking about waking him up but you were desperate.

"jay?" shaking his arm, he doesn’t budge.

you bite your lip— eyebrows furrowed and just stare at him. thinking maybe you could just put on a movie or something. that wouldn't help though. you just want him to hold you so you try again and he doesn’t even stir.

one more time, you let out a choked sob and shake him a bit harder. this time he stirs.

“habibti? are you okay?” he looks up, staring at you with confused yet concerned eyes.

"need you." moving your hand back and forth between you, signifying that you want skin to skin. he sniffs and clears his throat. straightening up to remove his clothes.

"come on baby" laying on his back, he pulls you to his side. knee over his waist— you snuggled against him and as much as you were comfortable, it wasn't enough. you need him closer.

"i need you closer" you softly spoke. "what?" instead of responding verbally, you rub your leg against his. lifting your head off his chest to look at him.

"i don't want to fuck. i just.. i want you closer. i'm so tired and i can't. i just-" you start to whine but he shushes you. "hey hey" jason caresses your cheek, a pressing a sleepy kiss to your forehead. "i got you. you're okay"

moving your leg off him, he starts to rub his dick, getting it hard for you. his other hand rubbing tiny circles on your skin while you drew shapes on his chest, letting out hums here and there.

another kiss to your cheek, he pulls you on top of him, making sure your comfortable before guiding himself to your entrance.

he pushes himself into you, your cunt fluttering gently around him. he's so big and fills you up just right. soft groans leave the both of you as his hand gently massage your back before wrapping his arms around you' "better, baby?"

you nod sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest before leaning up and pressing another to his jaw. he hums, tightening his grip around you causing shivers to run down your spine. his warmth, scent, and the fullness you feel lullying you to sleep.

[softh0neycomb]

Baker!Reader X Butcher!Simon

First little noodlings

You’re sat in your local Costa, sadly picking at an overpriced, sad sandwich and lukewarm coffee. Chains are never your first option if you can help it, but this small town doesn’t have a local cafe open past 10am.

Another sigh, you could do it so much better, you think, grimacing at a bite of soggy bread. As a baker, you know good bread and this, this is not good bread.

How difficult can it be, really, you sip from your cup; musing.

You could do it, you think, you already have a steady business as an online bakery and a presence at the closest local markets, known for your delicate bakes with pretty decorations.

The savoury side of things though…you know what’d you’d do, sandwiches with homemade focaccia, doorstep thick toast, savoury pastries.

It’d have to be right though. The voice pops up unbidden and you bite your lip, your need for perfection is both a blessing and a curse.

You abandon the remnants of your sandwich and head home thoughts churning.

In your kitchen, you create a focaccia, flaky salt, the good olive oil, rosemary and cherry tomatoes.

Once it’s cooked you realise you don’t have the right meats and you drag yourself to the store, you stand in front of the deli meats aisle for longer than you want to admit, until your fingers start to get a little numb and you take home a selection and painstakingly try a little of everything with the bread and nothings right, nothing works.

You hiss in frustration before cutting a large chunk and wrapping it in wax paper and grabbing your keys.

You know you must look like a crazy person, stomping into the butchers and dropping the bread on the counter in front of the mountain of a man who works there, bottom half of his face covered by a black mask.

“I need help” you say shortly “I’ve tried the supermarket meats and it’s not right.”

He stares at you, shocked, confused, you can’t tell.

“Look you’re an expert right?” A slow nod. “Good. I’m fed up of having no good cafes so I’m gonna do it myself but I’m a novice at savoury, so taste that.”

You wave a hand irritably at the wax-paper wrapped focaccia “and please tell me what meat is supposed to go in it.”

There’s a beat, two, before callused hands are unwrapping the bread and tearing a chunk off, corner of the mask lifting to accommodate before being lowered.

A moan. “I know” you say, slightly smug “so I’m not putting it with mediocre fillings”

The man hums, swallowing, before turning to a leg of something along the back counter and cutting a thin slice, dropping it onto a paper plate before handing it to you.

“Try that” he rasps, you take the plate and try the meat, it’s salty, slightly smoky and so much better than whatever you brought from the supermarket and combinations throw themselves into your head.

You’re unaware of the butcher staring at you.

“How much will I need to make at least….four sandwiches?” You half ask, half demand.

“Bout 15 slices” he replies after a moments thought.

“Great, that then please” you say sweetly, “and you can keep the rest of the bread.” you add on when you’ve paid and have the wrapped meat in your hand before almost running out of the shop to get home.

Simon stares for a long time, before devouring the rest of the bread.

[fluffylino]

ghostface ! hyunjin

little did you know you'd end up bumping into someone unexpected at a halloween party

-suggestive? so flirtatious istg

you weren't this type of person. the type of person in college to actively go seeking out parties and big frat parties. infact thats what you'd probably prefer avoiding. classmates and seniors drinking till they pass out or doing god knows what in bathrooms.

it was scary to be amongst so many people yet deep down you really wished you could experience a party like this. atleast for once in your life.

a recently made friend encouraging you to join her and her group of five friends. you weren't exactly on that level of closeness to go out with them but they genuinely were sweet. you felt like you could trust them. however they weren't as much into halloween as you.

you were wild on the inside. god knows what they'd ever say if they ever found out you found ghostface attractive.

not the killing and gore and all. just the idea of a mask like that. hiding someone's appearance completely.

yet all one could see was their physical figure, mannerisms and...their voice.

"you've never watched scream? the 1996 film?" you questioned, voice raising in pitch as they all shook their heads.

"oh is it that ghostface dude you keep mentioning?"

"technically yeah...imagine bumping into somebody wearing that whole outfit...here..in this place"

you said, getting a little anxious as you saw the classmates dressed up as various characters. some a little too gory and drenched in fake blood.

it was a halloween party afterall.

"I really hope he's there..." another friend chimes in. her cheeks visibly turning red. her and her huge ass crush on this guy.

"hm and if he is? what you gonna do with him" you can't help but tease her. nudging her shoulder and wriggling your eyebrows mischieviously. she laughed nervously.

"shhh what are you saying! dirty dirty!" her eyes widening. internally you questioned the innocence of this poor girl. she wasn't the type to think dirty thoughts.

"you think hyunjin will really be here?"

she whispered, looping her arm around yours. both of yall walking past people and into the house. streamers and decorations all over. lights dimmed down and occasionally flashing. the music louder than expected.

"..hwang? hm i don't know" you mumbled, feeling a bit shaky. guilt setting in slowly.

the thing was...you may have had a teeny weeny crush on him as well. however you pushed it aside when you found out she liked him like crazy. she described it as falling in love with him completely. it was a little too extreme but you simply laughed along. knowing all too well that they had never even spoken once in the previous semester.

hyunjin was a senior by a year or three. watching him from afar in the canteen. heart thumping faster than usual when he glanced your way too many times to be casual.

"he's looking at me, isn't he?" she'd always blush and say, trying to avoid him in all the possible ways.

a little delusion because it took only a few instances for you to figure out that he was...looking at you everytime you either walked to buy some coffee or whenever you'd be laughing and cracking jokes.

but you never know? maybe you just thought he knew your existence.

its only when the music gets louder and more people start coming in do things get overwhelming. grabbing a few shots of soju and downing it quicker than ever.

"we're gonna go there okay?" she slurs, waving goodbye and running off somewhere amidst the crowd with the other three. you hum to yourself, smacking your forehead. beginning to feel the alcohol kick in.

just when you think you should leave, your eyes land upon a mask. worn by someone who looks absolutely sculpted.

no flowy robe to match the creepy mask yet the way his arms looked in a tank top the stranger wore was worth drooling over.

looking away quickly when he turns his head towards you.

"god-...f-fuck he's hot..." you mumble breathlessly to yourself. cheeks burning and body on fire.

trying to steal another glance at the stranger. however he had vanished. was he in the crowd or did he go to the kitchen or backyard or-

"looking for me, honey?"

neck spinning to the side to come face to face with the elongated mouth and downward eyes of the spooky mask. a choked out shout leaving you.

"u-uh i-...i m-mean" you don't even know what you're saying at this point.

its the way he's leaning over you. towering above you.

"sooo you got a boyfriend?"

his voice goes straight to your core. its insane how turned on you are. realising he's playing along. reciting lines from the film.

"why? you wanna ask me out on a date?"

dragging your syllables. its the alcohol thats talking now. growing more confident and comfortable with this supposed stranger.

"maybe..."

the mask tilts comically.

leaning down even lower. that is until he sits on the short table opposite to you. carelessly dropping a few leftover candies on the ground. its a mess anyways.

he moves closer. thick thighs on either side of yours. his elbows resting on his knees as he seems to stare back.

expressions hidden under the damn mask. seeing just a sliver of his eyes under the mesh.

"you're pretty...pretty hot to not have one" muffled behind the mask. you can hear him breathe.

eyes trailing down to his arms unconciously.

"you think i'm hot? even though i'm dressed up as joker?" you chuckle. blushing incredibly hard.

because for some reason this stranger felt familiar. his mannerisms and his physique.

"even hotter, baby"

his voice. you've heard it before. you feel like you know this man's voice. no wonder you were enthralled. why couldn't you pinpoint who it belonged to?

"do i know you?" you sit up quickly. mimicking 'ghostface' who sat infront of you.

moving closer till his body heat engulfed you.

"mh do you?"

he tilts his head, humming condescendingly. goosebumps rising on your skin when his hands carefully rest on your knees.

"cause I definitely know you honey"

again.

your heart races.

unconciously leaning into him.

"you do? i see this little game you're playing" you tease. placing your hands on top of his. he lets you.

"m'not playing any games sweetie"

the man laughs lowly. shoulders shaking and neck arching to look down at you. growing more and more interested.

"yeah? then why don't you show me whose under this mask"

gently placing your index under his chin. his hands resting higher on your thighs now.

"oh i couldn't. that would ruin the fun wouldn't it."

allowing you to play around with the edge of the mask. edging him on mercilessly.

"what if i said i wouldn't mind it staying on"

you whisper, eyes meeting his briefly. arousal pooling in your abdomen.

whoever this was. you knew him for sure.

"while we talk? or did you mean during sex? please do tell, doll"

his voice drops an octave lower and you let your instincts kick in. forcing you to your limits with his teasing.

pushing the mask up just enough to kiss him senselessly.

it takes him by surprise, and you find yourself clinging onto him. his hands sliding higher to hold your waist.

quite literally using his strength to pull you right onto his lap. the low table creaks at the weight of two .

(lord have mercy we must stay focused brothers we MUST STAY FOCUSED AAA sorry i had to lolz)

"f-fuck...who are you..." you whisper, nose brushing against his. he huffs out a breath. choosing to kiss you with more fervour.

your fingers slipping under the mask.

shakily pushing it higher until your heart throbs. but that isn't the only thing throbbing when you see his uncovered face.

hyunjin.

"y-you...hyu-njin" going absolutely speechless as it sets in.

you're kissing hwang hyunjin.

the senior you thought you'd never even have the courage to talk to.

the mild taste of peach soju on his tongue. quietly opening your mouth for him to trail his tongue over your bottom lip.

the dark mesh falling over your face when you let go of the mask to fist at his fluffy hair. you could run your fingers through his hair.

his grip on your thighs strong enough to firmly keep you planted directly over where you could feel him.

getting worked up with how affected you were.

the feeling of his hands, his hair, his hot mouth moving passionately...his covered length....

"your friend. tell her you're with me, baby"

hyunjin pants out, nudging his lips to the corner of your mouth. your eyes widen, heart pounding.

"tell her im kissing you"

it felt like you were committing a sin. but you just couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

"tell her...i don't plan on letting you go home anytime soon"

.

.

.

.

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha surprise!

its a late halloween present but who cares! ghostface hyunjin has made an appearance acjwugsbsjskskshs~

<3333

[starrystevie]

"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.

confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.

"what's what, henderson?"

the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.

"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.

"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."

he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.

it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.

"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.

but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.

just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.

the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.

"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."

true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.

it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.

wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.

"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"

"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"

steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.

there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.

steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.

he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.

carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.

steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.

"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.

something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.

crossposted on twitter here

[peachversace]

يداك موجٌ، وقلبي شاطئٌ

your hands are waves, my heart a shore—

[ nsfw ] — smut (18+) ;

bakugou katsuki x reader

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🌊

The morning is a quiet symphony, soft and slow, playing in the spaces between dreams and waking.

You stir in the faint glow of dawn, caught somewhere between sleep and awareness, your limbs heavy with warmth, your body lax against the cool sheets. There’s a familiar weight shifting the mattress behind you, the scent of something woodsy and dark lingering in the air—clove and musk, Katsuki’s scent, wrapped around you like a second skin.

He’s home.

A low murmur slips from your lips, nothing fully formed, just a sound of acknowledgment, of knowing. You feel his warmth, the steady presence of him, the way his fingers ghost along the bare skin of your arm, over the curve of your hip, reverent in their touch. He shushes you softly, presses a slow kiss to the nape of your neck, lips warm, breath steady. It’s a contrast, this softness from a man built like war, forged in fire and thunder. And yet, his touch is as gentle as waves lapping at the shore, and just as inevitable—pulling you into him, folding you into the current of his presence.

You melt against him like wax under a flame, pliant, surrendering without a second thought.

His hand moves with practiced ease, trailing lower, fingertips teasing against your inner thigh before dipping between your legs. The first slow circle of his fingers over your clit has you exhaling his name in a soft, drowsy sigh. The pleasure is gentle at first, like embers catching fire, like sunlight filtering through water, spreading warmth in slow waves. Your body stirs fully now, your head tilting, back arching just slightly as your lips part in a breathy moan.

Katsuki’s mouth is on you, kissing the line of your jaw, the curve of your cheek, the corner of your lips. He’s unhurried, savoring, taking his time, like he wants to commit the feel of your skin to memory all over again. You whimper when his lips finally, finally meet yours, the kiss molten and deep, his tongue slipping against yours, his breath mingling with yours. You shudder under him, fingers twitching against the sheets, the pleasure pooling in your stomach, slow and sweet, but building, always building.

And then—he stops.

His hand pulls away, leaving you aching, and a small, frustrated noise escapes you before you can catch it. Katsuki huffs out a quiet laugh, low and warm, pressing another kiss to your cheek, amused but fond. His palm slides along the length of your thigh, gripping just beneath your knee, his fingers sinking into your skin as he lifts your leg slightly, opening you up to him.

You can feel the heat of him against your back, the solidness of his chest, the way his breathing is steady but deep, as if he’s holding himself together through sheer force of will. And then—fuck.

His cock drags through your folds, slow and deliberate, the thick head brushing against your clit just enough to make you shiver. Your thighs tense for a second, anticipation curling in your stomach like a match struck against flint. And then, with a slow, easy push, he’s sinking inside, stretching you open, filling you completely. A soft, breathless sound escapes you as your head tips back against his shoulder, and Katsuki lets out a low, rumbling groan against your ear.

He stays still for a moment, pressed flush against you, buried deep, letting you feel every inch of him. His hand tightens on your thigh, grounding, tethering, claiming. Then he pulls back just slightly, rolling his hips forward again, a slow, controlled rhythm, like waves kissing the shoreline—pulling away only to meet again, over and over, relentless and unyielding.

It’s slow and deep, like the sea carving its devotion into the sand, like the tide knowing it will always return home. In this moment, with Katsuki wrapped around you, inside you, moving with you like you were always meant to fit together—he is home.

You’re liquid in his arms, melting, unraveling, pulled under by the tide of him. Every slow drag of his cock against your walls makes you tremble, every measured thrust a deliberate promise whispered into your skin. The pleasure is a steady pulse in your veins, a rhythm syncing to the movement of his body, the press of his chest against your back, the heat of his breath against your ear.

Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, nails scraping lightly against his nape, urging him impossibly closer. Katsuki responds in kind, tightening his grip on your thigh, his other hand reaching blindly for yours, threading your fingers together. His touch is fire and thunder, sparking against your skin, setting everything inside you ablaze. The deep, unhurried push and pull of his hips sends sparks shooting through your body, has your breath catching on moans that spill from your lips like a prayer. He’s so deep, so overwhelming, leaving you dizzy with the sheer weight of him, the way he fills you so perfectly, like you were made to fit him.

He presses a kiss to your jaw, slow and searing, and you turn your head instinctively, searching for more, craving the press of his lips against yours. When you find them, it’s destruction.

He kisses you like a storm crashing against the cliffs—fierce, unrelenting, meant to break you apart and put you back together in his image. His tongue slips past your lips, claiming, taking, possessing, as if he’s trying to fuse you together, as if he’s trying to imprint himself into every part of you. And maybe he already has. Maybe he always will.

Your body moves with his like it was always meant to, like something written into the very fabric of the universe. The ocean calls to the shore, the flame to the wick, your body to his—some things are inevitable. And this, the way he moves inside you, the way he holds you so tightly like he’s terrified you’ll slip through his fingers, the way his breath hitches when you moan his name—this is inevitable.

Katsuki’s hand tightens around yours, his fingers curling between yours as he thrusts deeper, harder, his pace still slow but desperate now, like he’s losing control. He groans into your mouth, the sound raw and wrecked, like the pleasure is stealing his ability to speak. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him, grinding deeper, deeper, his forehead pressing against your temple.

You breathe his name, a soft, broken thing, and he answers not with words, but with his lips—against your mouth, your cheek, your neck. Each kiss lingers, as if he’s branding himself into you, marking you in ways deeper than skin. Katsuki slows his hips just slightly, his thrusts measured and deep, like he’s trying to savor this, like he wants to carve this moment into the marrow of his bones. He moves like the tide, rolling into you, pulling you under, and you don’t resist. You can’t resist.

His fingers trace fire over your skin, small bursts of heat sparking where his palms press against your thigh, where his grip tightens over your hand, his quirk barely humming beneath his fingertips. You feel the warmth crackle and fizzle against your skin like tiny fireworks, but you do not fear the burn. You welcome it. You have always welcomed it. You need it, the proof that this is him, your Katsuki—explosive and overwhelming, burning and beautiful, love and devastation wrapped into one.

Your head falls back against the pillow, body loose, liquid, undone by him. The pleasure rolls over you in slow, steady waves, dragging you deeper and deeper, until it feels like you are floating in the dark glow of the ocean at midnight, the bioluminescence of home glimmering beneath your skin, setting you alight from within.

And then his voice—low and rough, filled with something aching—murmurs against your ear.

“Come for me. Let me feel you.”

It takes you a moment to register, to breathe through the pleasure cresting in your body like the rising tide, but you manage a nod, fingers tightening around his as your body seizes up, as the tension inside you snaps. A moan spills from your lips, soft but wrecked, and then you’re coming, your body trembling against him, the pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave, like a freefall into the unknown.

You feel like you’re floating—adrift, weightless, untethered—but Katsuki is there, grounding you, holding you through it, his body pressing into yours, his breath heavy and ragged against your skin. He groans low in his throat, like the feeling of you clenching around him is too much, too good, like it’s ruining him.

And then his hips stutter, his whole body tensing, and with a shuddered, desperate gasp of your name, he breaks.

Katsuki’s warmth surrounds you, seeping into your bones, wrapping around you like the lingering heat of the sun against the shore. You let out a soft, content hum as he fills you up, his body still pressed tightly against yours, his hips rolling in slow, lazy thrusts, like he can’t quite let go of the feeling of being inside you. And then, finally, he stills. His breath is unsteady, a trembling exhale against your sweat-damp skin, and his moan—low, wrecked, beautiful—vibrates against your throat.

Your limbs feel light, boneless, but beneath the surface of your touch are earthquakes—tremors still rolling through you, the aftershocks of him still settling into your very core. Katsuki presses a few open-mouthed kisses against your neck, lazy and reverent, his lips soft, his breath hot against your flushed skin. You melt into him, like wax under a flame, like seafoam dissolving back into the tide. His breath against you is the gentlest thing you have ever known—calm, endless, familiar. Like the sea at dawn.

When he finally pulls out, it’s slow, careful, but his touch lingers, as if he can’t bear to fully part from you. His fingertips trace the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, like the echo of a wave long after it’s kissed the shore. There’s a moment of quiet, nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths and the faint rustling of sheets as he shifts, rolling onto his side to face you.

You blink sluggishly, your body still floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, and then—finally—you turn towards him with a lazy, satisfied grin, your cheek smushed slightly against the pillow. You nuzzle closer, burying yourself into the warmth of him, into the scent of him—clean soap and burnt sugar and something so unmistakably Katsuki.

He doesn’t hesitate. His arms come around you, holding you tight, pulling you into the solid heat of his chest. He holds you like the sea holds the shore—endlessly, patiently, like he was always meant to return to you.

A drowsy mumble escapes you, soft and barely there, but it makes his chest rumble beneath your cheek. “Hi.”

Katsuki huffs, a short snort of laughter, and bumps his forehead against yours, his voice still rough around the edges as he answers back. “Hi.”

He kisses you then, slow and sweet, soft like the sand, fluid like the sea—lingering, like he’s memorizing the shape of your lips against his. And when he pulls away, his gaze is half-lidded, warm and unbearably fond. His thumb traces the edge of your cheek as he murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod, sighing sleepily against him, and press a tiny, absentminded kiss against his collarbone before whispering, “Missed you.”

Katsuki’s arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer—if that’s even possible—and you feel him breathe you in, his lips pressing into your hair as he lets out a low, satisfied grunt.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Missed you too.”

You make a small, contented sound as you bury yourself deeper into him, your body molding to his like you were always meant to fit there. Sleep pulls at you, heavy and warm, like the tide drawing back into the ocean. Outside, the world is shifting—changing—as dawn stretches its golden fingers further into the sky, but here, in the cocoon of Katsuki’s warmth, none of it matters. Right now, it’s just you and him.

He has left fingerprints on your soul, invisible to the eye but felt in every breath, every beat of your heart, every place on your skin that still tingles with the ghost of his touch; it lingers in the spaces between your ribs, in the places where your skin still buzzes with the memory of him. It’s in the way his arm is slung over your waist, anchoring you to him. In the way his fingers lazily trace shapes against your back, slow and rhythmic, like he’s soothing you back to sleep. In the way his breath ruffles your hair, steady and warm, a quiet reminder: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. He is written into your bones, a permanent imprint of love and fire, and you don’t think you’d ever want to be without it.

Your lips brush against his collarbone as you mumble, barely awake, “Love you.”

It’s quiet, smushed against the pillow and his skin, but Katsuki hears you. He always does.

A soft hum rumbles in his chest, his lips finding your forehead as he presses a kiss there, slow and lingering, his breath warm against your skin. “Love you too,” he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion but heavy with meaning.

You grin sleepily against him, the kind of smile that feels effortless, that spills from you like warmth in the sun. And then you melt—like ice cream on a summer day, like seafoam dissolving back into the waves, like something that was always meant to return home.

And then, silence.

But even now, with the quiet stretched between you, you know.

You are still tangled in the same warmth, in the same gravity that has always pulled you toward him, no matter the distance, no matter the storms. You are still his, just as much as he is yours.

His love is always like the sea; endless, certain, and inevitable.

وأغرق فيك بلا مقاومة

—and I drown in you without resistance.