#minor! reader

[mild-lust]

"He's an idiot." Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6k

❥ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sweet!Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.

❥ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI! 18+ content! Explicit language. Smut with undertones of fluff, and a little angst (if you squint). Unprotected penetrative sex, f!receiving oral sex, past casual relationship with Eddie.

❥ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first post, nerve wracking as hell !! I think I got a bit carried away !

You stare at the phone blankly after hanging it up. It was a call that you had been all but unfamiliar with receiving, but it conflicted you all the same each time. And always went the same way. He would make fake niceties, ask you shallow questions about your day and try to keep up some small talk before, inevitably, asking the same damn question. 

“Do you wanna come over tonight?”

You huffed in annoyance each time, making a half-hearted attempt to resist and trying to conjure up some lame excuse not to, but each time you would end the call with a reluctant ‘Fine, Eddie, I’ll be there.’ You hated yourself for being persuaded so easily. It was basically routine at this point, and it was stupid of you to even pick up the phone in the first place. As soon as you heard his voice on the other line, you should’ve hung up on him. You always think these things are so easy to do until you have to do them, until you hear his sultry voice pleading on the other end of the phone for just one more time. You let yourself think, in that moment, that maybe it’ll be different for once. It’s a stupid, short-lived belief.

Even so, you find yourself sat in front of your vanity again, brushing your hair and curling your eyelashes in hopes of impressing him. Maybe if your cheeks are a little more rosy, your eyelids a little more colourful, he might change how he feels about you. He might come to the revelation that he wants more than just sex this time. You know your efforts are futile, as long as your clothes are easy to take off he couldn’t care less about anything else, but it makes you feel better for a few moments to let yourself believe otherwise is true. You reluctantly slip on a matching set of underwear, lacy and baby pink. Very intentional. You know you look good, and you know that Eddie will appreciate it. You realize that this is the reason he expects the same thing every time—because you deliver it. You curse yourself for it. Shaking the thought from your head, you step into a short pink dress, throwing a cable-knit cardigan on top. 

You try not to think as you walk down the stairs, out of your house, and down the street to his. You consider turning back about a million times, but you end up at his trailer before you can actually muster the courage to do it. You knock on the door a couple times, waiting patiently, stupidly, for a response. Then again when you don’t receive an answer, the action proving ultimately as useless as the first one. You raise onto your tiptoes to try peek through the window, and you find that the trailer is completely empty inside. Your face grows warm as you look around the trailer park, realizing no one is around or waiting for you. 

Tears threaten your eyes, and you forcefully blink them away before they get the chance to well. You shake your head, promising yourself that you won’t be brought down by the behaviour of Eddie Munson. Not again. You turn and make your way back down the street, your shoulders slumping. The street is desolate and lifeless, the late hour clearing the pedestrians from wandering and leaving you alone on the road. That is, until headlights shine from behind you, casting your shadow on the concrete front of you. 

A familiar burgundy BMW slows as it approaches, stopping beside you. The tinted window rolls down, and you’re met with the face of Steve Harrington. You brush a stray hair from your face, then attempt to clean the smudged mascara from beneath your eyes with the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hey, L/N,” he drapes his arm over the door, “what are you doing out here?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked as he looks up and down the dark street. You’re slightly surprised to hear the concern in his voice. Although, you suppose, you’ve seen him around and you hang around a lot of the same people. Besides, it’s kind of impossible to roam the halls of Hawkins High School and never hear the name King Steve. You’ve had quite a bit of interaction with this boy, but the significance of your friendship only really occurs to you the moment that he stops his drive to talk to you. 

You shrug your shoulders, and you feel your cheeks grow rosy as you realize you have to find a way to avoid telling him the truth for the sake of your own dignity. He raises an eyebrow at you, “It’s late, you know,” he says, pointing out the obvious. You feign a small, agreeing smile, nodding your head as you avert your gaze to the ground. You open your mouth to speak, hesitating when you try to figure out what to say, “I know. I, um,” you shake your head, “I was just on the way home.”

He’s clearly dissatisfied with your response, concern still evident on his face when he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “That’s awfully vague,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Here, you want a ride?” he asks, gripping the stick shift and switching back into drive, his gaze unwavering. 

You blink at him, slightly surprised by the invitation, “No, that's okay, Steve.”

You purse your lips into a polite smile, and he gives you a disapproving frown along with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. He opens the door opposite to him, a gesture for you to get in. His tone is persistent but gentle, “Come on.�� He cocks his head toward the empty seat beside him, “Let me at least get you off the street. You can chill at my place, just to… you know, not be alone.”

You carefully consider his offer, pulling your lower lip between your teeth in thought, a subconscious attempt to suppress the smile that tries to pull your cheeks. You dip your chin, soon decidedly trotting your way around the front of his car and slipping through the passenger door. His arm crosses your body as he shuts it beside you with a soft thud, before he returns his grip back to the steering wheel. You lay your hands in your lap, watching yourself fiddle with your fingers. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never been alone with this boy. The car is quiet for a beat, the low hum of the engine bringing ambience to the space. You realize that you feel a bit less lonesome now, being in this car with him. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you wonder if he knows that he’s saved you from a harrowing, pitiful night at home alone. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, needlessly ashamed to say it. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he says as he turns to look at you, his expression curious once again. “Where were you coming from?” 

You scrunch your nose and bring your gaze back down to your nervous, fidgeting fingers. “Nowhere,” you lie, the familiarity of embarrassment crawling up your neck. 

He gives you a comforting half-smile, his eyes shifting back to the road now that he has you talking, the engine turning and thrusting the vehicle forward. “No, come on.”

You hide your face with your hands, an action you realize is meaningless as he’s not even looking at you anymore, “God, it’s embarrassing.”

He smiles amusedly when he senses your unease. He remains wordless, the quiet itself urging you to continue. “I went to… um, Eddie’s place.” The words leave your mouth reluctantly, humiliating and heavy on your tongue. 

You see his eyes widen a bit as he processes what you’ve said. “No kidding,” He says with a scoff, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Munson?”

Your chest tightens, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed by your actions or Steve’s reaction. “Yes, Munson,” you huff, “but nothing happened.” 

He seems to lose some amusement from your clarification, potentially hoping for a juicier outcome. To your surprise, he doesn’t press any further. You were glad to see him bring his focus back to the road, going back to quietly navigating the stark streets for the remainder of the drive. You watch the unlit houses go by through the window, cruising by streets you only faintly recognize. Before you know it, Steve is pulling into his driveway and leading you up the small steps to his front door. He coolly unlocks it and opens it for you, welcoming you into the darkness of his living room. Light creeps in from a small light in the kitchen, allowing you to just barely make out the outline of his furniture.

You squint your eyes, lingering in his foyer once you’ve hung up your sweater. He sets down his keys and heads towards his staircase. “Are your parents home?” you ask tentatively.

“Nope,” he replies, “they’re in Chicago for the weekend.”

He throws the words away, moving into his house without a second thought, apparently used to being alone. It’s only when he disappears into the kitchen that you think to catch up to him, finding him with a crisp can of Coke already opened. He leans against the open door of his refrigerator, his head tipping back as he takes a swig. You stand in the doorway, your eyes trailing up his exposed neck, moles sparsely trickling along his flesh and adams apple as it bobs with deep gulps. Your eyes snap back to his face when he speaks again, “Want something to drink?” 

You shake your head and murmur a sheepish ‘That’s okay, thank you’. He nods and moves past you, travelling across the long distance between his kitchen and his living room. You follow behind him, your head turning every which way to take in his house. It’s spacious, tasteful, but you can’t help but notice its overbearing hollowness. The halls are empty and dark, any sign of liveliness or family apparently absent. You wonder how often his parents must be gone for the house to be this pristine, practically untouched. You clear your throat, taking a seat next to him on the couch, sure to keep a safe distance between the two of you. 

“What were you doing at Eddie’s house?” Steve questions you again, breaking the silence and setting his elbows on his knees. You recognize an edge that suggests more than just innocent curiosity; an insistence that makes you wonder if he’s truly interested in your answer rather than simply enticed by the gossip. 

“Um,” you wet your lips, “he wasn’t even there, actually.” Your mouth dries up as you say it, the reminder digging a pit in your stomach. He tilts his head to the side, clearly not understanding.

“Hm? Why not?” 

You raise your shoulders, letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “He was supposed to be.”

Uncertainty flickers on his face, and his expression softens when he realizes the implication. “Oh,” he utters, his voice quieter now, “I see.” He leans back against the couch, looking down at his lap. 

“It’s not a big deal,” the words tumble out, quick to reassure him. “We’re not, like, together or anything. Just… kinda sucks.” His eyes find yours as you speak, actively searching for any sign of doubt on your face. You press your lips together, “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” he nods slowly, not entirely convinced of your apathy. “Well, he’s a dick, you hope you know.” 

Your lips curl, eased by his attempt to sympathize with your being stood up. You wave him off. “Oh, whatever.” 

“Seriously,” he persists, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of his Coke.

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s Eddie.”

“I guess. Still a dick move,” his voice softens. “I mean, no dude should get to stand anyone up.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly careful to choose the right words. “You don't deserve that. You’re… a really nice girl.”

“Nice?”

Steve keeps your gaze when he continues, “Yeah. He’s a moron.” He tsks. “If I had someone like you coming over…” He trails off, unsure of whether or not he should continue. 

“What?” you ask curiously.

“I mean—look at you. I’d be waiting at the door."

“Really?” you say. As if you need to hear it again to fully understand what he means. 

He swallows dryly, setting his can onto the coffee table and, in turn, settling closer to you. “Come on, you’re gorgeous.” He says simply. 

His leg brushes yours, and he doesn’t pull away. You nod, mostly to yourself, and try not to smile too obviously as you look down at your lap. “Thank you,” you mutter quietly enough that you’re not sure if he hears it. There’s no indication even once you look back at him, but you realize that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You feel your cheeks burn up, and you hope he doesn’t notice the pinkish-red that tends to slither up your neck when you get nervous. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, though.”

You purse your lips, somehow embarrassed not to have been told something when you have no control over whether or not you’re told. You try to shrug it off, “Not really.”

Steve is visibly puzzled by this. “No?” He asks inquisitively. 

“You know,” you say, trying to feign indifference. “Eddie’s not really… a talker.”

“‘Not really a talker’? What does that mean?” he replies, as if there’s no way he could be interpreting this correctly. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, instinctually starting to feel defensive over Eddie, despite yourself.

“You know,” you say again, hoping he’ll understand before you have to say it. “Neither of us really talked. Not much opportunity for compliments.”

He scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

You frown and swat him half-heartedly, “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not,” he raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a mock-surrender, “Just saying. Must’ve been real good for you to put up with all that.”

You laugh humourlessly, glancing away from him. “Yeah, you’d think so.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your crypticity. It only takes him a second, and his eyes flit back to yours. He cocks his head. “He wasn’t?” he asks lightly, trying to sound casual though the interest in his eyes isn’t exactly subtle.

You don’t want to offer anything more, admittedly embarrassed to elaborate. You figure he can read between the lines, but his gaze is unwavering, still curious. You hesitate before you continue, “I don’t know.” Part of you wants to protect Eddie’s intimate life for the sake of his privacy, while the other doesn’t really care after what he pulled tonight. Decidedly, you go with the better part. “It was never really about me.”

“What, you mean, he never, like… you never—” he breaks, his eyebrows raising as it dawns on him, “Oh.”

You’re grateful that he’s not judgmental about it, just surprised. Possibly even for your sake. Silence hangs between the two of you for a moment, not particularly uncomfortably, before he breaks it again. “Wow, that sucks.” All you do is tighten your lips and nod agreeingly. “You deserve, um,” he stops to weigh his words, “You should be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means. He’s searching your face, as if he’s still trying to decide something, and his eyes dip to your mouth almost imperceptibly. He sets his hand onto your knee, gingerly, giving you the opportunity to pull away from him. You don’t. 

You let out a nervous exhale as he leans closer to you, the distance between you closing further and further. Once his mouth meets yours, it’s drastically different from the hungry, lustful make-outs you’d shared with Eddie. He presses softly, his lips moving cautiously, still proposing a question. He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, only leaving an inch or two between you. Another opportunity to let you pull away if you wanted to. Once he sees that you don’t, his hand moves to cup the side of your face, and he kisses you again with more fervour. Though his lips are still moving with care, gentleness, there is more intent behind it. He’s eager. 

You shift closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you rest your hand on his leg. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, a silent request meant to coax it open. You answer it, slipping your tongue alongside his. You still yourself, suddenly unsure, and wonder if you’re moving too quickly. You’re not sure of how far he’s meaning to take it, or whether or not the kiss was supposed to mean anything at all. Your answer comes soon after when his hand trails carefully up your thigh, deliberate and certain. You lean into his touch, and he gently pulls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and he places both hands on the small of your back. You sigh softly against his mouth, moving your hands to both sides of his neck and drawing him impossibly closer. 

The skirt of your dress gathers around your thighs when your front presses flush to his, your legs spread across his lap. His hands travel to your bare thighs before he stops himself at the hem of your dress. He lets out a careful exhale, pulling his lips from yours and searching your eyes. Your noses still touch, his breath fans hotly against your face, and you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you whisper reassuringly, answering the question he hasn’t yet asked aloud. 

“No, I…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. He swallows once, then utters quietly, “Upstairs?” 

The single word earns a fervent nod from you, and you lift yourself from his lap, offering your hand to him. He hastily takes it, moving in front of you to lead you out of the living room and up his staircase. Once you’ve made it to his room, he shuts the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’. He crosses the room with only a couple strides, his hands again holding your face and bringing you into another kiss before you can even make it to the bed. He walks you backwards and only breaks away from your lips once the back of your legs bump against it, then he lowers you gently on top of his rumpled bedspread. As he crawls over you, his lips attach to your neck and kisses tenderly along your jaw. 

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours to take a second to catch his breath. His hand rubs the fat of your thigh, hesitating when it traces the hem of your dress. You place your hand on his and guide it higher up your leg. 

Steve sits back for a brief moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and causing it to pile in a heap on the floor. He leans back down for another kiss too quickly for you to properly see him, so you resort to instead moving your hands to run delicately along his stomach and up to his chest. He grasps your thigh and hikes it up to his hip, opening your body against him. His hips rut gently against yours just once, and you can tell that he’s making an effort to restrain himself. The growing tent in his jeans rubs roughly against you even after he stops moving. His hand wanders further up your thigh, skimming the bottom of your dress and pausing, almost waiting for you to stop him. Yet again, you don’t. Instead, you raise your arms to allow him to peel it over your head and discard it to the floor, just as his shirt was. 

Your face grows hot when you’re left bare underneath him. As he leans back onto his knees, you see his breath hitch in his throat when the lingerie that you initially put on for Eddie is revealed. His hands instinctively move to your hips, tracing his fingers along the lacy material that clings to your curves, his eyes still fixated on your body.

The longer he stares, the more self-conscious you feel, even if it only lasts for a second. “What?” you ask sheepishly, pulling your knees together in a half-hearted attempt to close yourself off. 

“Nothing,” he responds quickly, his eyes darting back to yours, “It’s just… Eddie’s an idiot.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, your hands reaching out to pull him back in for a kiss—partly to stop him from staring much longer. Obviously, that’d been the reaction you’d hoped for, but you’d gotten so used to being stripped so hurriedly that it was surprising to be given more than a few seconds before rushing to the ‘good part’.

 His hands continue to admire your body when his eyes can’t, moving along your waist and eventually cupping your breast. His thumb brushes over the hardened peak of your nipple through the thin material, the sensation causing a shudder to run down your spine. Your back arches into him responsively, along with a quiet moan that’s muffled by his mouth. 

His lips travel down to your neck and press hotly below your ear, tenderly making their way down to your chest. His erection rubs evidently against your inner thigh. Despite himself, he doesn’t grind or urge against you. He still takes his time to plant gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, lower, lower, lower…

Faint pants escape from your lips, your chest rising and falling heavily. His lips press between your breasts, trailing down to your belly button, to the soft plush of your inner thigh. You gasp softly, a chill running through your body when he presses a feathery kiss to your clothed clit. He continues to pepper light kisses on your thighs as one hand roams along the side of your body, stopping when it reaches the lace of your panties. His eyes flicker to yours, and you answer the question he means to ask with a keen nod of your head. 

A finger hooks the material, sliding them down your legs smoothly. Once they pass your thighs, knees, and ankles, he balls up your underwear and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands around your legs to pull you closer to him.

Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. Your cunt pulses desperately, the almost torturous pace he’s setting already making your head spin. He evasively pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and in its place, he slides his middle finger to glide along your folds. He slips it in tentatively, his eyes wide as he looks up at you for even a semblance of hesitance or doubt. All he’s met with is the soft gasp that’s drawn from your lips, a clear green light for him to continue. Pushing deeper into your soaking entrance, his finger curls and his lips attach to your clit, suckling. This earns another gasp, the pretty noises coming from your mouth growing more consistent once his finger starts to slip in and out of you. 

His tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and he slides his index finger alongside his middle, his thick digits already starting to stretch you out as they move with mesmerizing care. You have to make an effort not to tug too hard on his hair when your fingers thread through it, your knees draping over his shoulders. With his tongue lapping and sucking on your puffy clit, fingers curling expertly to brush against your sweet spot with every pump, you realize how badly you’d been lying to yourself about ‘not minding’ the lack thereof with Eddie. Because, Jesus, does this feel fucking phenomenal.

His free hand moves to grasp your thigh, encouraging your legs to stay open once they try to close around his head. You start to burn up from the inside, being pushed closer to the edge despite his pace that refuses to quicken to match your rapid breaths. It’s a bit embarrassing to near your orgasm so quickly before he’s even fully undressed, but it’s excruciatingly hard to focus on anything except the waves of pleasure that wade through your body. 

“Steve,” you breathe, trying to grab his attention. You tighten your fingers in his hair, a weak attempt to break him away from you, but he persists. Your skin tingles with the sensation of his tongue working against you, and the lust that blooms in your lower tummy begs you to take this further. You squirm slightly underneath him as you mewl his name once again, “Steve...” 

All he does is him in mindless acknowledgement, the sound being muffled by your cunt. Once you get him to finally pull away and look at you, he is a visionary. His lips are pink and wet, parted slightly as he gazes up to look at you. His dark hair is tousled by your eager grasp and a strand falls loosely onto his forehead. You brush it from his eyes. You truly don’t know how much longer you can wait to have him, and you find yourself driven by this burning impatience. 

You urge him to move from between your thighs, pulling him to sit up. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you lay him down beside you and climb on top of him, settling your knees on either side of his hips. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, pulling it off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. This warrants a groan to erupt from deep in his throat, his eyes taking in your bare chest as if he’s immediately committed to memorizing it for future notice. 

“So pretty…” he whispers, and it’s unclear whether or not he meant for you to hear him. 

He attaches his mouth to yours again, wasting no time to slip his tongue past your lips and explore. There’s a newfound sense of urgency now, his movements still deliberate but considerably more driven. You shift backwards to give yourself enough room to start working on his belt buckle, your fingers fumbling as if you’ve never undone a belt in your life. Then he lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down his thighs, and he’s left in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs, the barrier between the two of you starting to dwindle. You can’t stand being naked where he remains clothed, even if it’s nothing but a pair of briefs, so your fingers move quickly to slide under his waistband. You wet your lips and tug delicately, just enough that his erection is revealed from beneath the fabric. 

You almost salivate when he springs free and weighs heavily against his stomach, a drop of precum gathered at the pink tip. You can’t help but reach to wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. His reaction is immediate; his eyebrows creasing, his lips parting with a sharp inhale, and his head tipping back against the headboard with a faint ‘thud’. You swipe the bead of arousal at the head with your thumb, before moving your hand slowly down his length. You’re only granted a stroke or two, base to tip, before he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Easy,” he breathes, seemingly concentrated on restraining himself from ending the night right then and there. 

It’s unspoken, but there is a mutual understanding between the both of you that he needs to get inside you, like, yesterday. You lean forward, bracing yourself with one hand and arching your back somewhat purposefully, allowing you to hover above his cock. He shifts between your legs, his hand replacing yours at the base. You’re a bit embarrassed by the sheer amount of arousal that already coats his thick cockhead, though he seems to be in utter disagreement with you when he responds with a guttural groan. He aligns himself with your slick, carefully gliding the tip up and down without yet going in. 

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, despite the telling circumstances. 

“Yes, Steve,” you respond firmly, almost exasperated by his unwavering hesitancy. “I want you,” you emphasize, hoping the slight whine in your voice is enough to soothe his uncertainty. 

Luckily, those three words are all he needs to hear. Once he properly positions himself, all he says after that is a small ‘Tell me if you wanna stop’, and his hands move to steady your hips. Your eyebrows knot, and your chest swells with anticipation, even nervousness. His tender demeanor, the way he looks at you, it’s so overly different from how Eddie treated you. You wonder how you ended up here, with Steve, instead of in Eddie’s trailer as you always do. Coincidence, you suppose. If you had ended up there again, you certainly wouldn’t—

Holy fuck.

The thoughts are swept clean from your head once he guides you down onto him, your mind overcome instantly with the tantalizing stretch his cock brings upon entrance. Your nails go to grasp his shoulders, your jaw slackening with an audible gasp. Your eyes flutter open, your senses overwhelmed with the firm grip he holds on you, the grunt that falls from his lips, the air that punches from your throat with the first deep, experimental thrust. 

He holds your soft hips tightly, enough that it seems he’s keeping you from moving any more. “Jesus christ,” Steve mutters, his voice strained. “You’re so—fuck.”

You give yourself a moment to adjust, partly for his sake, especially because it seems if you move at all he’s going to fucking explode. Once you see him relax, you set a controlled pace, rolling your body against his. His eyes fixate on where you’re connected, and you watch his expression change; the light crease between his eyebrows, the lower lip that he sucks between his front teeth, his jaw that tenses visibly. It’s not long before he’s drawing small, breathy moans from you, his cockhead dragging mesmerizingly along your inner walls. 

Soon, you find yourselves in a rhythm, your bodies familiarizing themselves with each other and starting to work in tandem. Your hands slide up to the sides of his neck and you let your head fall back to look at the ceiling, your face starting to twist in pleasure. You can’t help the noises that drawl from your lips, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside you so easily. You don’t notice, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Sweat beading on his hairline, low groans coming from his throat as he watches your every move, the way your breasts bounce with every deep stride of your hips. He’s completely enthralled by you, your long nails clawing at his shoulders helplessly. You lean back down, your front pressed to his as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying uselessly to suppress the mewls that escape your mouth. You busy your lips by kissing along the sparse freckles on his sweat-slick skin.

“Oh, Steve,” you moan out. “Steve,” you repeat mindlessly, the word warbled by your breathlessness. There is a visceral reaction to your babbly moaning of his name, a shiver running through his body as he struggles to maintain a steady pace. 

Panting, he threads his fingers through the damp hair on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward to look at him, his eyes darting along your flush face. He brings you in for a kiss, your ability to reciprocate lasting only momentarily before you end up doing nothing more than gasping into his mouth. He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand falls back down to your hip, helping to guide your unstable pace. 

With a tight grasp on you, he starts to thrust upward to meet your movement, pushing himself deeper inside you. The room fills with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and he starts to do most of the work to make up for your ever decreasing control. His thrusts don’t last long before they become erratic, his hips moving desperately and clearly starting to chase release. You cry out, your hands moving quickly to dig into his shoulders again. 

“Fuck,” he grunts in response, knitting his eyebrows together, “That feel good?” You’re unsure if the question was rhetorical, the moans that rip from your throat more than enough evidence for him, but you answer anyways. 

“Yesyesyes,” you murmur, “S’good.” You’re almost whining, the coil in your tummy starting to tighten rapidly. You turn into a hot, trembling mess on top of him, letting lewd noises wrack through your body. 

“Holy shit,” he says with a strangled groan, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall against yours, his chest hair scraping between your breasts. “You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his tip brushing deliciously against your sweet spot. 

You plead his name, pleasure blooming under your sensitive skin and spreading to the rest of your body. He surges forward to capture the noise with his mouth, the kiss only lasting a second before he breaks from your lips and presses his forehead to yours. You tense and arch almost completely against him, your thighs aquiver as you start to unravel around him, barely keeping the ability to hold yourself up on your knees.

He watches you fall apart intently, eyes blown-out with admiration. They then shut with concentration after he’s successfully ridden out your high, his face contorting blissfully as his hips stutter, a weak warning leaving his lips. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He abruptly pulls out, only a few pumps of his hand necessary before he erupts onto his own stomach, painting his cock with shiny, white streaks that run down his length. There's a collective moment where you’re both trying to catch your breaths, struggling to find composure. Licking his lips, Steve brings his hand to brush away the baby hair that sticks to your forehead. Without realizing, he bats his eyelashes as he studies your face; your parted, puffy lips, the rosy tint to your flushed cheeks, the heave of your chest. Truthfully, you look a bit ruined. Not that he’s complaining. 

You turn over to lay flat beside him, your shoulders brushing, and stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re mildly terrified of what’s to come, how he’ll act after this. You wonder if you’ve just broken your whole dynamic by letting this happen. You trace the patterns of the small bumps on his popcorn ceiling with your eyes, and wonder whether or not he’ll treat you with the same sort of respect now that you’ve had sex with him. Going off of past experiences, you have reasonable doubt. 

You feel his eyes on you, and you turn your head to meet them. As if he’s read your mind, his lips curl slightly, reassuringly, and he slides an arm behind your head to wrap around your shoulder. You let him pull you to your side, leaning your head into his chest and resting your hand close by. His thumb draws slow circles on the tingling skin just below your shoulder, goosebumps rising in their wake. 

You catch a glance of the alarm clock across from his bed, the numbers 11:37 stare back at you in bright red. Admittedly, there’s no urgent reason for you to have to get home, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You mutter against his skin, not really making an attempt to move, “It’s almost midnight,” you say as more of an observation than an excuse, paying close attention to the reaction it garners.

In any situation with Eddie, this would’ve warranted a dismissive ‘why don’t you head out?’ or, on a good day, an ‘I'll drive you home.’ Amazingly, that’s not what you hear next. 

“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

This takes you a bit off guard, the softness in his voice. Nonetheless, you answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

❥ MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

[nuokee]

🔞🎧 no talking | hoon's whimpering

[neptilius]

satoru being obsessed with your postpartum body— kissing your stretch marks, his big hands cupping your swollen breasts and tweaking your puffy peaks, cupping the plush fat of your ass and worshipping your new curves the baby gave you and he’s wondering why he didnt knock you up sooner. buys you the tightest, prettiest sundresses for you to wear when ya’ll go out and his hands dont leave your body ONCEE. he’s just all over you as your shopping, buying food, etc. you can’t be mad when he slaps your ass and fingers you in the passengers seat right? you just look too good. you having to scold him when his mouth is latched onto your mounds drinking your sweet nectar as you lazily ride his cock and milk him for filth. “save some for the baby- nng.” you whine. but when does he ever listen?

[highdefhoetry]

in his hands.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, hand kink, cnc-ish, fingering, G-spot stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, verbal teasing, praise, use of term "babygirl", aftercare, some mild possessiveness, caleb is a meaniehead

word count: 1760

Caleb sits across the table from you, completely oblivious to your stolen glances as he twirls the pen between his fingers. He follows a strange pattern where he spins it once, twice, then lays the tip back onto the blank sheet of paper in front of him. His fingers tap, tap, tap on the edge, clicking the pen open and closed. The black beads on his bracelet clink against each other with every movement, the perfect accessory to the thick ring on his index finger. You find yourself unable to look away, despite knowing what would happen if you were noticed.

You’ve always liked his hands. To you they were perfect, lovely to look at and even better to hold. The length of his fingers. The large size of his palm. The chapped skin on his knuckles. The warmth you felt whenever thw two of you held hands. They were a comforting familiarity, one part of him that remained unchanged yet had grown with him as he matured.

You understood why he still called you pipsqueak. With palms pressed against one another, yours still looked tiny compared to his.

While you're busy daydreaming, he plays with his pen a few more times, seemingly lost in thought, before he suddenly looks up and meets your eyes. When he notices you staring back, a little smirk creeps up his face, one you know will be followed by playful teasing. You quickly turn your head away.

You’ve been caught. And when you glance back at him and see the cocky look in his eye, you know that he’s not going to let it go until he’s teased you to hell and back.

“What’s up, pipsqueak?” he teases. “See somethin’ you like?”

You shake your head and bury your face back into your work, trying to ignore his quiet chuckles. 

“Don’t get all shy now,” he cocks his head to one side to better see your face, seeking out the flustered expression you’re trying so desperately to hide. “Fess up. Why were you starin’ at me?”

You stay silent, mumbling some half-assed excuse about not being able to focus. He laughs at your poor attempt to change the subject. A sudden warmth covers your hand, followed by soft strokes from calloused fingertips. When you turn your face away to hide the heat rising in your cheeks, he takes your hand and holds it gently.

“Come on, now. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

He rubs his thumb across your knuckles, slipping it in the spaces between each finger. You eventually succumb to his gentle touch, intertwining your fingers in his. You toy with the ring on his index finger, poke at the black beads on his bracelet, trace the patches of flushed red on his knuckles that contrasts the paleness of his skin. You stroke each one with your thumb and index finger, feeling the dry, cracked skin beneath your hands.

A good deal of time passes before you finally snap out of it. When you meet Caleb’s gaze once again, you find him grinning victoriously, as if he’s just won some unspoken contest you never agreed to enter.

“You…!” is all you manage to stutter out.

“Me?” he smiles innocently. “What did I do?”

“...”

He lifts your hand to his lips and gives it a small peck in an attempt to softly coax you out of your shell. It makes you melt from the inside out, but still, you refuse to admit defeat. He watches you carefully for a few more seconds, giving you one last chance to come clean. When you don’t, he gets up from his seat across the table and circles around to your side. Before you can get a word of protest out, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder, carrying you straight to the bedroom.

He plops you down on the soft comforter, trapping you in place with both hands at either side of your body. You try struggling, but he simply pins you down by straddling your waist, making it so that all you can do is wriggle slightly beneath him. He leers down at you with a wild, uncouth grin, like a wild beast about to consume its prey. 

The sweet, honey-eyed Caleb is gone. You realize a little too late that you are totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

“I won’t let you run away, from this” he growls, with one hand on your thigh and the other gripping your arm, holding you firmly in place.

“Caleb…!”

“I saw you staring at my hands,” he gives your thigh a squeeze, smirking when he hears your muted squeal. “What do you want me to do with them? Hmm?”

You put up a half-assed fight, pretending to hate how he’s cornered you despite your growing wetness. He quickly picks up on this after slipping his hand under your panties. His fingertips brush against the entrance of your hole, circling it for a moment before sliding towards your swollen bud. He smiles when you let out a small moan.

“Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

His voice is gentle and low, but his touch is firm. He rubs your clit in a slow, deliberate motion, with just enough pressure to build you up but not enough to push you over. You arch your back and press your mound further into his palm, begging him without words. 

“Say it,” he leans forward, mumbling in your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

You start to whine, unable to handle the way he’s teasing you. He’s being extra mean tonight, barely flicking your throbbing bud and ignoring the attempts you’re making to guide his fingers into your hole. You know he won’t comply until you give him what he wants. Which is the last thing you want to do.

“Mmm… Caleb…” you whimper cutely, hoping to appeal to his sense of mercy. He chuckles darkly, his once friendly eyes filled with sadistic glee.

“What are the magic words?”

“Nghhh… Caleb, please!”

“Please, what? I’m pleasing you right now, aren’t I?” 

He sticks one finger into your pussy, just for a moment. When he pulls it out, he slaps your mound hard just to throw you off. The tiny, surprised shriek you let out is met with a mean-spirited laugh. 

“Okay!!” You cry out, unable to hold back any longer. “Finger me, please!”

“Yeah? You want my hands inside you?”

“Yes! I want them inside me, please…”

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he savors his victory. Satisfied with your pathetic pleas, he finally yanks down your panties and gives you what you want.

First one finger pushes itself into your hole. He pumps it in and out, making sure to caress that sweet, sweet spot inside of your walls. You’re singing like a bird within seconds. Another finger is added, easing in gently so as not to hurt you. He finds his rhythm and uses your moans as his guide, focusing on your G-spot to build you up to the biggest orgasm possible. He presses his thumb against your clit, massaging it in tandem with his rapid fingering, and soon you’re squirting all over his hand. He pulls out momentarily to lick his fingers, savoring the taste of you on his skin. His amethyst eyes lock onto yours, feasting on the desperation permeating your gaze. Distracted, you cry out when he shoves his fingers back inside.

This time, he’s a bit more forceful. That first little orgasm was just a warm up. When he gets like this, one is never enough, and he won’t stop until he’s brought you to tears. With his swift fingers curled inside you, he pumps in and out at such a fast pace that you begin to see stars. That one little spot inside of you becomes his target, a button he presses over and over again until you reach climax once again. The second time is much more intense than the first; you can feel the soaking wet bed sheets underneath you, along with the slick fluid covering his fingers. 

Still not enough. He wants more.

He fingerfucks you again and again, forcing out countless orgasms that shoot through your body like hot lightning bolts. Your voice starts to feel hoarse from the screaming and shrieking, sounds that only seem to spur him on. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, having given up on keeping track long after the third or fourth. And Caleb shows no signs of stopping. 

He whispers his affection into your ear while he plays with your pussy, telling you how beautiful you look as he makes a mess of you and how lovely your voice sounds when you make those cute noises for him. He fills your head with sweet praise, his words worshipping your form and beauty, weakening you with every syllable.

“That’s it,” he coos while coaxing the last orgasm from you. “That look on your face… that’s mine. Only make that face for me.”

You mumble something in agreement, barely able to form coherent words as you cum one more time. Inexplicable pleasure ripples through your body, setting ablaze every last nerve ending from head to toe. You go limp, covered in sweat and completely worn out from his torment. Caleb pulls out his fingers, licks your fluids off his skin one last time before he switches gears. He grabs a towel from the dresser and gently pats your face dry, pushing some of your tangled hair away from your face. That crazed look in his eyes is now gone, and once again he admires you with utmost affection. He asks if you need water, if you want a warm blanket, if you wanted to be held or left alone. You say yes to the first two, and cling to him when he asks the third. 

After you finish drinking a full glass of water, he wraps you up in the warmest blanket on the bed and cuddles up next to you, playing with your hair in a soothing, gentle manner.

“Soooo,” the teasing tone returns to his voice. “When were you gonna tell me you had a thing for my hands?"

You pout at him, feigning annoyance, but he just laughs and hugs you tighter. 

“I’m definitely going to use this against you, by the way.”

You don’t have the energy to argue back. Exhausted, your heavy eyelids shutter closed, and soon you drift into a peaceful slumber, which Caleb’s arms still wrapped snugly around you.

[lilly-townshend]

[cremeful]

dry humping with smoke! dry humping with smoke! dry humping with smoke! dry humping with smoke!

a littl modern reference! but the interpretation is up to u :3 + dumbifiaction, puppy!reader & daddy kink if u squint IDK.. 🙈

he has no business being in your room, he has no business fooling around with you but yet here you are on top of him letting out sweet sounds. "yeah, ma? that feels good doesn't it?" he says so sweetly with a hand pressed up against your cheek.

this man is twice your age and how you two got like this is between the four walls of your bedroom, moonshine and the devil but if you want the simpler version, you had your eyes on smoke since you caught wind him and his brother returned back to town.

with smoke you'd always steal little glances, sweeten your words a little more and flutter your eyelashes, do anything to make him see you and that he did.

your clad cotton underwear clinging to your cunt so tightly that smoke can see the wet patch forming and the sight makes his cock twitch in his pants.

your whines are divine, soft little shutters of breath and pants. his hand finds the back of your neck and pulls you down, slipping your tongue into his mouth causing him to land his palm against your ass so hard that the action cause you to jump forward a little. “be good, take what’s given to you.” stern, like a father scolding his child for misbehaving.

“yes, sir” you break away from the kiss, sitting up ontop his lap. your a sight for sore eyes, curls disheveled some pieces pulled loose from the puff you had in. your lips, swollen; glistening with spit. his prefect little angel.

you run your hands against his arms, reaching his biceps. you can feel his strength underneath him, how he can just put you into in position he pleased whenever but he didn’t need too. not when he already has control over you.

“whichu thinkin bout, hm?” his voice makes you rut your hips up. its so easy to get you like this. “you thinkin bout where my dick is gonna reach inside you?” you beg this time, leaning down and kissing the nape of his neck “please daddy, i will be good, u wont even have to do the work!” desperate as one can be.

so smoke nods, unzipping his pants, kicking them and his underwear off, he slips your underwear to the side seeing your cunt glistening under the warm ambient lighting, “fuck girl. your tryna kill me huh?” he takes his finger and guides it through your folds, a line of precum presents itself. he smears it on the base and tip of his cock.

he guides your hips over his length, slotting it in between you. “you ready baby?” he says it softly, you nod your head while looking at him with big doe eyes. you start moving your hip and down, his mushroom tip bumping your clit. you can hear the sounds you two make when you slide back and forth, its flithy.

“wann kiss, gimmie kiss” you pant, already worked up from amateur movements. “so fucking bossy, can never ask daddy nicely. always, want, want.” he mocks you while speeding your hips up. you lean back down, chest no pressed against his, your mouth sloppyly connects with his. you feel your toes tingling, you start fucking drooling, spit seeping out from the sides of your mouth, smoke pulls away “nasty fucking, bitch.” your head drops to his shoulder, your crying. “it feels soso good sir, daddy pslease” your slurring your words, and thats when smoke knows your far gone.

“yeah, baby? daddys got you, don’t worry about nothing else. just let daddy take care of his pretty puppy”

[mikgreo]

twt links.

nsfw minors dni. 『starring 』：jjk,bllk, and tr men

hes so childish

gojo, ino, yuji, shidou, bachira, karasu, aiku, baji, hanma, naoya, your fav

just for you pretty girl

nanami, choso, reo, ness, niko, aryu, yukimiya, kazutora, chifuyu, hakkai, mitsuya, kakucho, your fav

he needs you carrying his child

sukuna, geto, isagi, kaiser, kokonoi, rindou, mikey, your fav

using his strong arms for nothing but you

toji, nanami, kokichi, kunigami, noel, rin, barou, draken, taiju, shinichiro, your fav

morning sex<3

yuta, ino, megumi, chigiri, otoya, izana, naoto, (i have no idea), your fav

hes soo rough.

sukuna, toji, geto, barou, kunigami, shidou, aiku, sae, rindou, hanma, draken, wakasa

size+ breeding kink

toji, sukuna (again sorry 😞), kunigami, barou, hanma, taiju, your fav

hes such a slut for your pussy

gojo, inumaki, choso, karasu, aiku, kaiser, ran, sanzu, your fav

traveling with him

gojo, kokichi, sae, shidou, reo, izana, hanma, ran, your fav

using him

inumaki, yuji, choso, yukimiya, chigiri, isagi, bachira, takemichi, kazutora, hakkai, souya, your fav

“i promise ill be gentle”

gojo, geto, karasu, otoya, aiku, kunigami, rindou, hanma, wakasa, baji, your fav

so you interrupted his game..

megumi, ino, nagi, isagi, bachira, chifuyu, kazutora, mikey, inui, your fav

he treats her soo good.

nanami, yuta, geto, nagi, rin, aryu, yukimiya, mikey, hakkai, chifuyu, shinichiro, mitsuya, draken, your fav

BONUS!! duos<3

you’re such a good girl

satosugu, sukuna+toji, karasu+aiku, mikey+draken

they fill you up so good

satosugu, hanma+kisaki, bonten!mikey+sanzu, baji+chifuyu

princess treatment

satosugu (again.), choso+yuji, yuta+inumaki, isagi+bachira, chigiri+kunigami, kazutora+takemichi

spoiling you

satosugu, reo+nagi, aiku+sendou, itoshi brothers, haitani brothers, kawata twins, sano brothers/ shinichiro+izana, shiba brothers, kazutora+chifuyu

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS

ghost: your clingy boyfriend just wants to be closer to you, he wants to be inside you. literallysuch a sweet boy with mommy issues, just wanting to be taken care of :( doesn't wanna commit yet and go the full way... stop being so clingy! he was trying to do some paperwork :/ so incredibly jealous ghost coded surprising you when he comes back home but you have a meal for him prepared :) soap: don't even need to take your panties off fully, just push them aside!< pretty red tights are getting ripped off tonight 😊 whilst soap fucks u hard and merciless, ghosts fat cock is throbbing in ur mouth :( he can't stay away from ur pretty lips gaz: he likes recording your puffy pussy when you cum like your own paparazzi! don't worry, he'll lick it up afterwards his pretty cowgirl riding that dick like she owns it 😵 late night after the whole teams' at the bar, you 2 sneak back to his car... staying in a tent for a mission...this close...is never a good idea price: price stuffing his thick dick in you after you 'joked' about breaking up :(he's gonna be deployed for awhile, why not make the most of it? he DID promise good aftercare, don't blame him halloween mission gone wrong! :( your weight is no match for him alejandro: average alejandro camera roll smh he loves seeing u wet all over, and a mark on how much he's done titty man :) sleepover at ale's barrack after dinner rudy: he missed feeling you, so soft and plushy - better than a pillow <3he was too shy to say anything so thank god you removed it typa shit rudy's on pussy so soft and healthy eating that puffy pussy like it's the last supper

[nramv]

Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

Inspired by @valeisaslut Collide series😭💗

[mochieekittenz]

🔞#Caleb — [nsfw!] audio 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒷 𝓍 𝓂𝒸/𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇 cw: s*xual content, f*ngering, or*l (f!receiving)

headphones recommended for better experience, enjoy! ♡

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[ellieputellas]

guilty as charged | a.putellas

— Alexia was the perfect roommate. Well, except for one fatal flaw: she always lost your chargers. Fed up, you searched her room, only to find something you definitely weren’t supposed to see.

Tags: 18+, mdni, roommate!Alexia, dom!Alexia (kinda), strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, biting, impliedfuckboy!Alexia, slightly long build up before the smut content, tldr: finding Alexia’s strap and not being able to get it out of your mind, not proofread | wc: 6k+

masterlist | do not repost or plagiarize!

"Alexia!" You shouted at your roommate who was taking too long in the bathroom. "Where's my charger? I thought I told you to buy your own already."

"Espera!" The Catalan called back out to your frustration, still taking her sweet time in the showers.

"Rich as fuck but can't afford to buy her own charger," you muttered under your breath.

Alexia had developed a habit of leaving her chargers in the locker room or lending them out to her teammates, forgetting to get them back. And, instead of buying her own replacement, she had been relying on your generosity and kindness.

At first, you were cool with it. After all, Alexia has always been a generous roommate — buying you new shampoo whenever you were running low, ordering dinner for your weekly movie nights, and always buying wine for you two to share. So, naturally, you had no problem sharing your charger once in a while. You even decided to buy Alexia her own charger — the fancy kind that charged ultra fast. It cost you a bit more than the average phone charger would but you figured it was just your way of saying thanks for her generosity.

She lost that too. Within just a few days.

So, she resorted back to borrowing yours. And while it was just mildly irritating at first, it only got fully annoying when she started walking into your room while you weren't there, taking your charger and even bringing it with her to training. Without even asking. She just assumed you’d be fine with her borrowing it.

It was always a different excuse every time she lost it. 

"Oh sorry, I left it at my locker."

"It's somewhere in the car… I think."

"I think I already returned it."

You tried not to let it get to you, thinking that getting pissed over something so shallow was too petty and childish.  But you needed your iPad to do your work, and for that iPad to function, it needed to be charged… which was impossible to do if Alexia kept treating your chargers like they were disposable. 

"God," you groaned as you stared at the wall clock, feeling antsy about a deadline. "Alexia! Can't you just tell me where it is?"

"Espera! I'm still washing my hair." She said with an annoyed tone which just annoyed you even more. How is she the one getting annoyed? She’s the one who lost it again.

"Fuck it, I'll get it myself." You groaned under your breath before rifling through her stuff with zero patience. “Where the fuck did she put it?”  

Annoyed, you yanked open the drawer built into the side of her bed frame. Unlike the other drawers with things haphazardly thrown in, this one had its contents neatly folded beneath a thin blanket. Without thinking about why the blanket was there in the first place, you pulled it back and froze.  

That’s when you saw it right in front of you: a massive, light pink dildo strapped to a harness Your brain short-circuited. You weren’t exactly prudish or conservative; you had your own vibrator tucked away in your panty drawer. But this? This was… a lot.  

Your eyes darted over the rest of the drawer. Bottles of flavored lube. Handcuffs. A ball gag. A various selection of dildos and vibrators. On top of it rested the huge pink strap-on you first saw, the cherry on top to this kinky mix. Who knew your polite, friendly roommate was this —

“What are you doing?”  

Your soul left your body as soon as you heard Alexia calmly inquire behind you. You spun around, heart hammering. Alexia stood in the doorway, fresh from the shower. She was clad in nothing but a sports bra and a towel slung low on her hips. Her hair was damp from the shower, hanging by the side of her face, dropping beads of water down her wide shoulders and further down her glistening abdomen.

“I—I was looking for my charger,” you stammered nervously, standing up from your crouched-over position. You straightened yourself, wiping the beads of sweat on your forehead and straightening your shirt. “I couldn’t find it and I’ve got a deadline today and... and you know how much I need it.”

You stumbled upon your words, causing Alexia to raise an eyebrow in amusement. You cleared your throat, trying to seem unbothered by what you just saw. “This is just like… the sixth or seventh charger that you haven’t returned.” You said, trying to steady your voice.

Alexia’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as her gaze flicked to the cabinet you’d so carelessly left open. She didn’t look embarrassed or pissed. Not even remotely phased. Just… amused. “Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s literally right there.”  

She nodded toward the direction of the chair in front of her work desk placed at the corner of the room. Sitting on top of her iPad, plain as day, was your charger.  Heat rushed to your face. How had you missed something so obvious? You could have just swept the room first. Instead, you’d snooped immediately through her drawer and discovered she was some kind of sexual deviant. 

“Oh,” you squeaked.  Without another word, you lunged for the charger, swiftly grabbing it. You gave a tight-lipped smile to Alexia before holding it up just to show her you got it.  It took everything in you to only look at your roommate from the head up, not allowing your gaze to lower down to her bare torso. You were never flustered like this around Alexia. She was often sauntering around the house in just a sports bra and workout shorts; it never bothered you… until now. “I guess I just missed it.”

You spun on your heel and bolted for your room, shutting the door behind you. Pressing your back against it, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.  “What the fuck did I just see?”  

Alexia found it cute how flustered you acted after the incident.

She had always been careful about her intimate life. When living with roommates, she never brought girls home, never let her personal indulgences spill beyond the walls of her bedroom. It was a part of her life she preferred to keep discreet and private. Though, at times, it wasn’t easy.

She briefly recalled the short period when she roomed with Marta during the pre-CGH days, when her co-captain was still single. Keeping that side of herself hidden had been a challenge, especially when they were sleeping just a few feet apart, separated by non-soundproof walls. Bringing girls home had become a strategic endeavor, timed around Marta’s schedule, because Alexia was very aware that her extracurricular activities weren’t exactly… quiet.

After years of having roommates, Alexia thought maybe it was time she stopped sharing her space. She was earning enough to live alone, and most of her teammates no longer needed to split rent either. It had seemed like a natural step forward.

Then you came along.

You were the team’s new graphic designer, originally working for the men’s team until the club restructured and brought in a new agency to replace your old role. That shift had introduced you to the women’s squad, and Alexia had taken an interest in your work almost immediately. At first, you chalked up her attentiveness to her captain’s duties; it was something you presumed was to be expected of Alexia. 

But then she did something you never saw coming.  

When the team heard you might have to quit — your apartment was full of black mold, and finding an affordable place nearby on short notice was impossible — Alexia made you an unexpected offer. She had a spacious place with two bedrooms and didn’t mind charging you below market value, making it the perfect solution.

You had understood what a big gesture that was for her. What you hadn’t known was just how much she had given up by letting you move in.

Her newfound freedom was gone. She could no longer bring girls home on a whim, given your unpredictable work modality schedule. Late-night hookups were practically impossible when you were always up until ungodly hours, hunched over your iPad in the living room, working on some random side gig. 

Alexia knew that you two were old enough to understand that sex was a part of life and that bringing home girls shouldn’t be a thing to be ashamed of. But she knew that her situation was different. It wasn’t that simple

Still, she didn’t mind. She liked having you around far more than she missed fucking around.

Though you having found her stash did have her thinking that probably she treated it far more taboo than what it was. So what if she liked loud, unrestrained sex that could last for hours? It wasn’t like it happened every night. And surely, you had a few toys of your own tucked away in your room.

Maybe this could be an opportunity — a way for you to start accepting that your roommate simply… enjoyed being active.

So, she tried opening up the subject. While you two were cooking your respective dinners, Alexia tried casually asking you if you remembered what you had seen in her cabinet. You were so startled you nearly cut your finger instead of a potato.

While you two were on the drive back from work, Alexia tried to engage you in a conversation about sex but you pretended to have a bad stomach, making fake groaning sounds to pretend you couldn’t hear what you were saying.

Honestly, Alexia should have been frustrated by your immaturity, by your outright refusal to discuss something so simple like an adult. But she couldn't fully get annoyed with you ever... and it was because of the massive crush she had on you.

Alexia always found you cute. She liked your quirky mannerisms and the way you made her laugh even if you didn’t intend to. She liked your work ethic; she always valued people who took their job seriously. It didn’t help that you were always walking around the house in very tiny shorts with silly cartoon designs that always caught her eye. 

Her attraction to you had only grown the closer you became. You were naturally affectionate with her, always touching her in small ways — a hand on her arm, leaning against her shoulder, sitting on her lap whenever the squad was around and there weren’t any seats. You never seemed to mind being touchy with her.

A part of her knew that maybe she didn’t mind not bringing girls home because… well, she had you. Your company and presence meant more to her than casual sex ever could. That didn’t mean, of course, that she wouldn’t have you if you let her.

There were nights when she had to physically stop herself from suggesting a friends-with-benefits arrangement. She valued your friendship too much to risk it over something so fleeting; she wasn’t about to fumble a great friendship just because she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Besides, after seeing how you squirmed at the mere mention of sex, she knew you'd never go for something like that.

…Or would you?

You were hunched over your iPad, rushing to finalize a mock-up for new merch designs. The design head thought that since you managed social media, you might as well help out with merch design too. It made no sense to you but she had drilled into you that it was crucial you got it done by today. You wouldn't have been so annoyed by a task outside your job description, if only the assignment wasn't given a day before the deadline.

Hence, why you were stressed-out and aggressively illustrative design mock-ups on your iPad. It was already midnight and you were expected to report to work at 9 in the morning. It was just too little time.

And then, just as you were adding the final details, your iPad screen went black. The device shut off.  When you tried pressing the power button, hoping it was just an accidental press that put the device to sleep, it displayed the dreaded low battery logo. 

“Fuck!” you cursed, slamming your Apple Pencil onto the desk. You let a frustrated groan rip through your chest. You knew the battery had been low, but you had been so deep in the work that you ignored all the low battery notifications. 

Great, now the momentum is gone, you thought. 

Fine, whatever, you said to yourself. You just needed your charger. You pushed back from your desk and marched to your room, heading straight for the spot where you knew you had left it, which was right on top of your makeup bag.  

Except… it wasn’t there.  

Frowning, you checked your drawers. Nothing. Your bag? Not there. You even looked under your bed, as if it had somehow magically fallen and rolled into hiding.  And then it hit you. Alexia had borrowed it again earlier this morning with the promise that she'd return it instantly.

You grew frustrated. In the past days, you haven’t really been angry or emotional around Alexia and it was mostly because you felt awkward about the drawer incident. But now, all you could think of was how fucking annoying it was that this happened again. 

She knew how important your charger was, how often you needed it for work. And yet, she had forgotten to return it again on deadline night of all nights. Adrenaline pumping, you stormed toward her room, fists clenched. Without hesitation, you pushed the door open.  

“Alexia, where the hell—”  

Your words caught in your throat.  

Alexia stood in the middle of her room, dressed in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of loose shorts that showed off the top of her Calvin Klein underwear, mid-stretch, her toned stomach and arms on full display.  

You blinked, caught completely off guard.  

For a moment, you forgot why you were even there. Then, you shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Alexia, give me back my charger.”  

She didn’t even flinch at your tone. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her face. “Oh? Someone seems mad.”  

You groaned. "I'm not just mad, okay?" You corrected. "I'm fucking stressed. I have a deadline for a task that isn't even part of my job's jurisdiction and I've been working all night on Blender and Procreate and —"

You paused to take a breath. "I just had enough, okay?" You said more calmly. “I just need to finish this right now but I can't cause you took—"

Alexia tilted her head. “I took your charger?”  

“Yes?" You said incredulously. 

Her brow lifted slightly. “I returned it earlier today.”  She said. "Remember? At breakfast? I even fixed you a bowl of chocolate oatmeal as a thank you?"

You frowned, momentarily thrown off. “What?”  

“I borrowed it this morning, but I gave it back before you left to work at that café.”  

And just like that, it clicked.  

Fuck. 

You probably didn't notice Alexia returning it cause you were too busy working. Suddenly, you remember you had taken it with you. You had plugged it in at the café, worked there for hours, and then… left without it.  

Your anger deflated instantly, replaced by embarrassment. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, feeling your face heat up.  

“Oh.”  

Alexia let the silence stretch just long enough to watch you squirm, then let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll let that one slide.”  

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Sorry, Alexia. I’m just—”  

“Stressed,” she finished for you. Then, her voice softened. “Cariño, don’t be. I’ll talk to your boss tomorrow and make sure you get another day. I’ll just put the blame on me.”

She smiled, stepping forward. "They can't say no to me."

Before you could react, Alexia stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her by the waist, offering a small hug to comfort you. You exhaled, tension still buzzing in your body.  

“Okay,” you mumbled, leaning into her. “I'm sorry for storming all mad and accusatory like that.”  

“I know,” she murmured. “Why don’t I give you a back rub?”  

You hesitated, but your muscles did ache from hours of work, hunched over a table and stressed beyond belief. Your shoulders were practically begging to be rubbed. “…Fine.”  

Alexia guided you toward the bed, settling herself against the headboard while she sat you in between her legs with your back resting against her. The second her hands found your shoulders, thumbs pressing firmly into the knots of tension, you exhaled a slow breath.  

“Oh,” you muttered, eyes fluttering shut. “Alexia, yeah, that feels good.”  

She hummed in response, continuing to knead the stiffness from your shoulders. Her hands were firm yet gentle, and before you knew it, your body melted into her touch.  She rubbed into your shoulders at the perfect firmness, finding where the knots were on your upper back and shoulders before massaging them away. 

“Mmm,” you murmured. "Fuck, that's so good."

Alexia’s hands moved lower, moving from your upper back and shoulders area to something more in the middle of your back. Alexia's hands kneaded the tension from your back, her fingers expertly working under the shoulder blades. You let out a slow exhale, sinking into the warmth of her body behind you.  

“Let’s take off your cardigan,” she murmured, her voice smooth, low. “It's getting in the way.”  

You nodded absentmindedly, already half-lost in the sensation of her touch. You were practically floating in the sensation, only to be snapped out by the sensation of her arms grazing your chest as she unbuttoned your cardigan. You bit your lip as her fingertips grazed against your nipples as she helped you shrug off the cardigan. The contact was fleeting— perhaps, accidental — but it was enough to send a sharp jolt through you. 

Your breath hitched, and you hummed, trying to brush off the growing heat in your core. 

Alexia continued the massage, but this time, as one hand stayed firm on your shoulder, the other drifted lower, her fingers ghosting over your left nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but your body reacted instantly. You jumped slightly at the sensation.

Alexia leaned in, her lips grazing your ear. “Relax,” she whispered in a low voice, her breath warm against your skin. "This is gonna help you release all tension. Trust me."

You hesitated, pulse quickening, but you didn’t stop her. You let yourself sink back against her, allowing it to happen. Her touch grew bolder. Soon, both hands were on your chest, the pads of her fingertips rubbing slow, teasing circles over your hardened nipples, the friction from the fabric of your shirt only heightening the sensation. A quiet moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.  

Alexia smirked at your reaction. "Yeah, just relax and let go." She cooed in an innocent tone as if she was still massaging your back. Now, Alexia's fingers moved deliberately, alternating between rolling your nipples between her fingertips and slightly pinching at them, coaxing more breathy sounds from you. Your head soon rested back against her shoulder, and she took the opportunity to press a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.  

A soft hum vibrated against your skin. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”  

You swallowed hard, your body answering for you as you let out another shaky moan. Alexia's mouth was on you again, gently kissing and nipping at the delicate skin of your neck as you felt her hands slowly move under your shirt. 

You whimpered her name as you felt her fingers against your bare skin, running against them. Alexia smirked at the way you were reacting and quickly agreed to letting her touch you like this.

Before you could even realize, Alexia was reaching under a nearby pillow. Under it, she had a toy she left from her own masturbation session last night. If your eyes were opened, you would have probably chickened out at the sight of the neon pink massage wand but you were too busy enjoying Alexia's playful, little massages. 

Soon, Alexia had slotted in the head of the toy in between your legs, pressed against your soaked pajama shorts. She clicked the on button and you practically moaned out instantly. Your eyes opened but before you could say anything in protest, Alexia shushed you. "It's just a massage wand. It'll help you loosen up."

You were a smart girl. You knew what Alexia was doing and normally, you would have called her out but tonight… Tonight, you were exhausted. You were tense. And with the way her hands had been working over your body, the way the vibrations of the wand had begun to hum softly against your core, the fact that you've spent the past few days fantasizing about what it would be like to experience the Alexia Putellas…

You found no reason to stop her.

“…Okay.”

Your voice was soft, almost breathy, and it sent a visible shiver through Alexia. She loved hearing you like this: so obedient and pliant, so willing, so cute when you agreed to let her touch you.

She pressed a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear before murmuring, “Now, be a good girl and take off your bottoms for me, okay?”

You didn't hesitate, swiftly lifting your hips to push your bottoms off of you, kicking them off with your legs. Alexia put a hand firmly under your left thigh, pulling you closer to her. With her right hand, she put the toy back against your core, sending a wave of vibrations that had your legs trembling.

Alexia's left hand was back in your left breast, pinching at them to elicit tiny and cute moans that she loved so much. You unconsciously rocked your hips against the toy, seeking to chase out the pleasure, praying Alexia would turn up the speed so you could arrive at your orgasm sooner.

As you whimpered, gripping the sheets beneath you, Alexia carefully removed the toy from between you. “W-what?” you stammered, your mind foggy from the pleasure coursing through your body.

Alexia’s hand on your waist tightened slightly. “Last night… when you fell asleep on the couch…" she paused, teasingly. "You were whimpering.”

Your eyes snapped open, embarrassment crashing over you like cold water.

Shit. You had dreamed about her again.

Before you could even attempt to defend yourself, Alexia chuckled, her breath warm against your skin. “That’s not even the best part.” She leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just beneath your jaw. “You dropped your phone on the floor — probably right before you dozed off." She murmured. “So, naturally… I picked it up.”

Your stomach twisted in mortification, and you didn’t even have to ask to know where this was going. Alexia hummed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Imagine my surprise when I saw what you were searching for.” Another soft kiss, this time against your shoulder. “How to ride a strap.”

A whimper escaped your throat as she increased the speed suddenly. At this point, your legs were shaking.

Alexia let out a quiet laugh. “I thought it was cute.” Her fingers were now teasing circles against your inner thigh, making you twitch. “And I know you’ve been stressed. High-strung. So instead of just teasing you…”

She suddenly pressed the vibrator against you again with more pressure, turning up the speed without warning. A loud, broken moan spilt from your lips as pleasure began to build inside you. Your head tilted back, resting your weight onto the Catalan, body arching into the sensation as Alexia guided the toy against you.

“There you go,” she murmured, watching in amusement as you squirmed, your thighs trembling against hers. She subconsciously licked her lips as she saw your wetness completely cover your core and inner thighs. “You’re making such a mess, cariño.”

You barely heard her, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure. It was too much, too good. It felt like at any moment, you were going to explode with pleasure. 

And then, just as you were about to orgasm, Alexia pulled the wand away again.

Your eyes flew open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. “Alexia, what the fuck.”

“Shh,” she interrupted smoothly, putting aside the toy. “We’re just getting started.”

The next moments went by so quickly that you could not process how you managed to end up completely naked on top of Alexia who was now wearing the pink strap you saw from the other day around her waist, on top of her Calvin Klein underwear. You bit your lip as you straddled her upper thighs. It seemed like you were gaining consciousness now as you stared at the silicone member. It was long and girthy, shining slightly with the lube Alexia poured on it.

Alexia’s hands traced lazily on your legs and thighs. “Come on, show me what google told you to do,” she teased.

You bit your lip as you stared at the obscene size of the silicone, hesitating. “Alexia, I don’t think…”

Alexia sat up, grabbing your waist as she pressed a kiss on your mouth. “Shh, of course you can,” she reassured in between kisses. Her mouth felt so soft and warm against yours. The sensation of her mouth on yours was hypnotizing you again, making you feel soft and needy. It’s like her lips make me dumber, you thought to yourself.

Alexia shifted the position so you’d be laying on your back and she’d be slotted in between your spread legs, she continued to kiss you, knowing it was what you needed to not feel intimidated and hesitant. Soon, you could feel her hands stroke your inner thighs. “Why don’t I help you out,” she whispered. “Just so you wouldn’t be so shy, hmm?”

You nodded, obedient and docile under your roommate. Alexia locked eyes with you, breaking the kiss. A sigh escaped your lips as her warm hazel eyes met yours. It felt like you could melt into those beautiful, honey-colored pools.

You were so captivated by Alexia’s eyes that you didn’t notice that she had two fingers playing around your entrance, desperate to enter you.

You opened your mouth and let out a gasp as soon as two of her fingers thrust into you, deliberately with a careful firmness to them. Alexia smiled, eyes still fixed on yours, as she carefully curled them into you. The Catalan practically moaned at the feeling of you tightly clenched around her long and thick fingers.

“Fuck,” your voice came out softly as you felt yourself clench around her, soaking her fingers with your slick arousal. “I want more… please.”

That was all Alexia needed to hear. It was enough to send her over the edge. She started thrusting in and out of you with a faster, harder pace to it. You moaned out loud as you felt her fingers slam into you, curling every time into your sweet spot, causing you to arch your hips and grip onto her shoulders.

“Just like that,” Alexia muttered against your ear, her breath hot and uneven. “Let me hear you, cariño.”

Any sort of restraint you had left was gone. Your moans spilled freely as her fingers drove into you mercilessly, stretching you open, coaxing you toward the edge. You felt delirious, drowning in sensation, the heat between your legs unbearable.

Alexia couldn’t count the number of times she had touched herself to the thought of you like this — writhing, moaning, begging for her. But even her filthiest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of you falling apart in her hands. You were so much more unbelievably stunning, intoxicating, and wrecked beneath her. No girl she's ever fucked before has gotten her this worked up. It was taking everything in her not to ruin you completely. She didn't want your first time to be too intense.

Her fingers worked you open with ease, curling inside you as her mouth traced a path of heat across your skin. She kissed and sucked at your neck, her tongue dragging along your collarbones before moving up to your jaw, nipping just enough to make you whimper.

But her favourite spot was the crook of your neck, right above your right collarbone, where she latched on and sucked hard, marking you. The second she did, you dug your nails into her back, moaning her name so loudly she knew the whole floor would hear but you were completely fucked out of your brains to even care.

You could feel Alexia’s smirk against your skin as she heard you moan out loud. She positioned her hand differently now so not only was she thrusting into you with two fingers, she was also rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was driving you insane.

Your thighs instinctively clenched around her hand, trying to slow her down as the pleasure was getting intense and you were growing sensitive. But Alexia wouldn’t let you control the pace or her movement. She pinned your hips down, forcing you to take everything exactly how she wanted.

“Take it,” she gritted, lips brushing against your ear. “If you try to press your legs together again. I swear to god I’ll stop right now.”

You acquiesced, trying to not fight the urge to clamp around her, desperate to get that orgasm. Alexia smiled as she pumped her fingers faster, readjusting her position and pressing her palm flush against your clit. Each thrust of her hand sent waves of pleasure crashing all throughout your body. The knot in your stomach coiled tighter, unbearable now, your entire body tensing.

Your roommate knew you were close, judging by your stuttered breathing and the way you were clenching tightly around her, but she knew she couldn’t let you cum yet. Not while she’s had the pleasure of letting you live out your fantasy.

Alexia pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you throbbing and empty and before you could even think to complain, she hooked her arms around your back and lifted you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as she shifted you back onto her lap, holding you steady against her hips, exactly where she wanted you.

“Ride me,” she said, her voice low and commanding. Her hands settled on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin, grounding you. “Show me what you want to do to me.”

With your desperation to cum, there was no hesitation left in you. You nodded eagerly, obediently, as you squatted above the strap, your thighs trembling with anticipation. You hovered just above it, adjusting your position, but even as you took control of the movement, Alexia never relinquished her dominance. Her fingers tightened around you, her presence overpowering, making it clear that even though you were on top, she was still in charge.

You bit your lip, carefully making sure that you were lined up, but Alexia was growing impatient. With a strong grip, she held you steady and thrust upward, burying herself inside you with one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion knocked the breath from your lungs, your balance wavering as you instinctively grabbed onto the headboard for support. The head of the dildo pressed deep, almost kissing your cervix, causing you to curse and shut your eyes at the sensation.

You took a deep breath before lifting yourself slowly, feeling every inch of her slide against your walls, then sinking back down, your movements cautious at first.

Alexia watched you, her eyes dark and hooded, her grip possessive as she guided your pace. But it wasn’t long before her restraint wavered. As soon as she saw you settle into a rhythm, she met you halfway, thrusting up in perfect sync, pushing deeper, filling you more completely.

Your moans spilled freely from your lips as your body surrendered to her, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating. “Fuck,” you gasped between gritted teeth, your nails digging into her skin as you kept balance. “You’re so big.”

Alexia smirked, dragging her hands up your sides before pulling you down harder onto her length. “Yeah?” she taunted, her voice thick with amusement and desire. “Too big for you?”

You could only nod, barely able to think, barely able to breathe, as she took back every ounce of control you thought you had. “Yeah, but it feels so good.” You said breathily. Even if you were already getting a bit winded, you knew you couldn’t stop now. Not while your orgasm was slowly building up inside you again.

Alexia moved one of her hands from your waist up to your breast, squeezing your plump breast firmly. She squeezed again at the sensitive bud of your nipple causing you to moan out again. She moved her hands back to settle behind you before she quickly sat up so that she could suck on your breasts while you continued to ride her.

The shift in her position caused the silicone member to curve into you, now pressing and grazing your sensitive spot with every bounce and thrust. Paired with the sensation of Alexia’s tongue skillfully playing and flicking against your nipples, it was surely sending you closer and closer over the edge.

You moved your hands to Alexia’s shoulders, giving you better mobility to ride her, breasts practically bouncing in front of Alexia’s face. She chuckled, sensing your desperation. She sat back up again, holding you upwards to keep your balance.

“Fuck, Ale,” you said, voice whimpery and erotic. You sounded almost obscene. “I’m so fucking close.”

Alexia moaned at the sound of your broken plea, her own arousal spiking as she felt the way you moved against her, grinding down harder, chasing your release with reckless abandon. “I know, baby,” she husked, her voice thick, hands tightening on your hips. “Just a bit more. Be good for me.”

You obeyed, but it was barely conscious — your body was on autopilot, instinct taking over as you rode her with increasing urgency. You felt yourself clench around her, your hips stuttering as the orgasm was slowly building up, causing you to clench. Thankfully, Alexia never loosened her grip. Even as your strength wavered, she held you firm, guiding you through it, her own body rising to meet yours. The shift in control was subtle but absolute; your arms wrapped around her tightly, your forehead pressing against her shoulder as you let her take the lead, her strong hands dictating your pace, her hips rolling upward, filling you over and over until you were unravelling completely in her hold.

Your moans grew louder, almost obscene and pornographic, echoing off the walls in a way that made Alexia smirk. If you kept this up, you’d both be getting a formal complaint from the condo association by morning. Alexia shushed you. “Cariño, I know it feels good but you need to quiet down.”

“Can’t–” you muster to say out, still moaning. Alexia groaned, torn between wanting to hear every filthy sound you made and knowing she had to shut you up before the neighbors got an earful. Thankfully, she got an idea.

“Baby,” she murmured between gritted teeth, punctuating her words with a sharp thrust that made you jolt. “Why don’t you bite my shoulder?”

You shivered at the suggestion, barely processing her words but nodding anyway, too far gone to argue.

“So no one gets mad at you for being such a good girl and riding me, yeah?”

That was all it took. You latched onto her shoulder, hesitant at first, lips parting against her sweat-slicked skin. But then she snapped her hips up harder, gripping your waist and bouncing you with ease, using her strength to fuck you onto her strap. The sudden onslaught made you lose control. Your teeth sank into her skin, muffling your moans into the muscle of her shoulder.

Alexia groaned out but the sting of your teeth pressing against her skin didn’t stop her or slowed down her pace. The pain felt like a motivation to get you where you needed to be. It didn’t take long. Alexia could feel by your shaking legs and the tightness of your grasp and the breathy moans you were exhaling into her skin.

“Come on, baby,” she rasped, voice strained as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Give it to me.”

With only a couple more deliberate thrusts that pressed against your sensitive spot, you came undone, practically melting into Alexia’s arms.

It was a great idea for you to be biting against her or else your moan would have been heard throughout the whole building. Alexia held you through it, her hands steady, her grip firm, prolonging your pleasure as she slowed her thrusts, letting you ride it out. When your body finally sagged against her, she stopped the slow thrusting and wrapped her hands around you to form a hug, rubbing your back as she allowed you to breathe heavily against her skin.

You unlatched your mouth, a string of saliva forming from her shoulder to your mouth. You wiped at it sluggishly, still breathless, still full of her as she had not pulled out of you. Your forehead pressed against hers, the intimacy of the moment settling between you both.

“I forgive you,” you murmured, your voice hoarse, breath still uneven.

Alexia blinked, still coming down from the high. “Huh?”

“For stealing my charger.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexia burst into laughter, her breath mingling with yours as she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You hushed her, planting your lips on hers. "You still gotta make up for the seven or eight more you lost." You teased.

"I'll make it up a hundred times over if I have to." Alexia responded, a smirk toying on her face. "Just make sure you can take it."

It was gonna be a long night.

a/n: i feel like this is identical to all the other strap fics i've written but idgaf at least im writing again!!! anyway, still working on the longer fic and working on other ideas for shorter Alexia fics. i hope you guys still liked this AAAAAAA pls be nice

masterlist

[nuokee]

fun night with hee getting what he wants after a long day of waiting | 18+🎧(turn up a lit bit) wet slapping sounds

[quitesins]

Under Your Skin

Masterlist | AO3

Tags: 18+, Nsfw, Smut, Oneshot, Female!Reader, Timeskip!Bakugou, Pro Hero!Reader, Explicit Sexual Content Frenemies to Lovers, Sharing Physical Sensations, Phone Sex, Masturbation, PiV sex, Jealousy, 5.8k

When you and Dynamight get hit by a quirk that forces you to share all your physical sensations, you learn a bit too much about the bastard… and yourself.

There’s a throbbing in your head, and your arm, and your neck. And when you finally start to regain consciousness, you feel there’s an even worse throbbing resting on your legs. Something weighted, pressing you down, only when you open your eyes do you finally realise—

It’s Dynamight, Bakugou, Katsuki— whatever. Splayed out so you're trapped underneath the lug of him. He starts to wake, and you see that as enough reason for him to be off, so you kick out and try to stand.

“Oi.” He groans, gripping onto your ankle before you can kick him again. “Stop that.”

“Get off me.” You don’t listen and try to whack him anyway. It’s the wrong response, he just grips harder.

“Fuckin— alright!” Bakugou scowls, his head clearly still pounding as he tries to move.

You pull away from him, shifting against the rubble and attempt to take in your surroundings. 

“Are you guys okay?!” A sudden brightness interrupts your vision, Red Riot, standing over the two of you, practically shouting. 

“Yes!” Both you and Bakugou hiss back, ears ringing at the sudden volume. 

“Took quite the fall there.” Kirishima reaches out to help you stand. Already sensing Bakugou ready to jump, he quickly adds “Don’t worry! We caught the villain. Everything’s fine, just gotta get you two checked up.” 

Bakugou stands on his own, refusing Kirishima’s hand, which the redhead just shrugs at. Instead, you thank Kirishima and let him assist you to the paramedics. 

Though the extra stability helps, your legs still ache and you watch Bakugou try mask a similar struggle. His teeth clench with each hobble and you feel a little bad, reaching out to him in pity… but you miscalculate your own balance and find yourself falling to the ground, scraping your knee against the concrete, hard. And that’s when something odd happens. 

Bakugou hisses out in pain too. 

He actually clutches his left knee, where yours bleeds. Really the pain isn’t anything new, nothing compared to what you’ve taken before, but for Bakugou to react to it.

The two of you lock eyes, for far too many seconds, not saying a word.

Then quickly and without warning, you both begin to hit and punch at your own bodies, looking for something . Kirishima watches, baffled, clearly having no clue at what the two of you are doing. 

“Close your fucking eyes!” Bakugou orders and you listen, scrunching up. “Kirishima hit me.”

Kirishima doesn’t even get the opportunity to challenge as Bakugou demands him again to comply. Before you even hear the noise Bakugou lets out, you feel a hard fist thump into you. 

“I can feel it.” Your eyes snap open and you gasp, raising your left arm. “Holy shit. I can feel it.”

Bakugou stares back at you, eyes equally as wide as yours. 

You both shout simultaneously—

“FUCK!”

After patching you up, the health team run a few more tests, mostly just tapping away at random parts of your bodies and taking notes on your reactions. All it really does is confirm that yes, you and Bakugou Katsuki are sharing an entire nervous system. Down to each breath you take.

And because of that, you’re both given (forced in Bakugou’s case) two weeks off, trusted to deal with the quirk’s effects sensibly, like adults— heroes, should. 

It's quite strange, feeling parts of yourself move in ways they aren’t, but it isn’t the absolute worst. The smaller things, like the action of walking, are easy to ignore. It’s mainly the random pops of his quirk that gets to you, but even then it’s just a little twitch. 

The first time he showers, however, you let out a shriek. It’s completely cold and although you know there’s nothing on you, you feel drenched to the bone. 

You call him instantly and he laughs into your ear. 

“Fuck am I meant to do?” He snorts. “Not shower?”

“You could’ve at least texted!” You huff, shoving your key into the lock. “I was still on the way home, the whole street heard me scream.”

That’s what really gets him going, laughing so loud he drowns out the sound of his shower still hammering down in the background. His laugh is so rambunctious you don’t realise he’s walking back in, until you feel the waves of icy cold water crashing over you, again. 

“Katsuki!!!”

You’re lucky enough that Bakugou is meticulous, obsessive even, with a routine that never seems to waver. You’re quick to follow it, countering his insane 5am showers with your own warm and comfortable ones. 

He did text you once about it though, telling you to “Turn the fucking heat down,” and spamming some jabber about you being a “Damn demon” from the “Depths of hell.”

You also find he’s absolutely restless. When he isn’t pattering about cooking— you assume from the heat, or paperwork— you can tell by the familiarly repetitive motions, he’s exercising. All the damn time. It’s a little condescending actually. While you spend your break how it should be spent, being a lazy fuck, he’s up and doing too many crunches to count. And what’s worse is that you can more than feel the lunges and squats, it actually tires you out. Even though you know you won’t reap any of the benefits, you have to lay down and catch your breath.

The first time you texted him a stern “I’m going to sleep. Don’t do anything to wake me up.” But by the third day it seems he’d figured out your routine and was surprisingly respecting it. 

Maybe you give him too much credit.

Too hot. Everything is too hot. You’re not even awake enough to realise it’s your own skin that burns harshly, blood pumping wildly through your veins. Instead you go to kick off your blanket and attempt to roll out of bed.

And that’s when you feel it. 

It’s fucking bizarre . Although there’s nothing there you can feel exactly where a dick should be. You can feel how his hand slides up and down. You can feel the knot in his stomach. Everything is too real. 

You pray to yourself he’ll remember that his body isn’t just his right now! That you can feel each stroke of his thick fingers moving up and down. But he doesn’t stop, in anything he gets a little faster. 

Then comes the second sensation. The feeling is unmistakable. It’s a warm, wet, human mouth. Around you— or the phantom appendage— sucking gently and that’s when you know you have to stop it.

It's pretty hard to walk, when you’re practically being sucked off, but you manage to grab your phone and dial his number furiously. 

It rings once, then twice, and by the third time you know he’s ignoring you because the mouth stops and he smacks his own thigh, in turn yours .

The mouth resumes, and you’ve had enough. Grabbing your keys, trying your best not to keel over, you’re set on getting to his apartment, which for the first time you’re glad is actually nearby. 

The drive is torturous. Really, you know you shouldn’t be driving at all, not as you have to grip the steering wheel tight, in fear if you let go you’d spasm wildly. Whoever Bakugou had on their knees, was doing a really good fucking job. The bastard was seeing heaven while you were trying your very best not to land yourself in hell, because of the sin of mass murdering late night pedestrians you only just swerve by. 

Even the sporadic pinches to your thigh don’t deter him, instead he returns them with his own. All you can do is curse and hope the ceiling caves in. Or maybe the floor under him opens up— better yet if his dick were to entirely explode.

You’re utterly winded when you do finally reach his flat, knees nearly having buckled on the stairs up. When you get to his front door, you slam down hard.

“Katsuki, open the fucking door.” You knock without restraint, not caring for the neighbors. “I swear to god if you don’t-“ 

The door opens just as you're about to thrash it again, almost having you topple in. You catch yourself, of course, but Bakugou snorts at the sight. 

“You couldn’t wait a fucking week?!” You shout before he can speak. 

You look at him, shirtless, skin flushed and dewy. His sweats hang low, just barely fumbled on, revealing the sharp muscles under his skin, and a little trail of light brown hair that you have to force your eyes to stop following.

If you weren’t so mad you’d probably enjoy the sight. That somehow ticks you off even more. 

“You seriously came all this way?” 

“You weren’t picking up your calls!” You huff. “And it’s not like you forgot about the quirk.” You gesture wildly to your thigh, probably purple from all the pinching. “You prick!”

“And what do you want me to do.” Bakugou gives you a look of annoyance, as if he was the one inconvenienced. “Stop everything because of you?”

“Yes?!” 

Bakugou then takes a step forward, suddenly looking taller. He towers over your form, with an intimidation you’re not often on the other side of. 

“Tough shit princess.” You feel the words against you. “Just ‘cause you’re not getting any, doesn’t mean I’m not.” 

You have to hold your tongue, clench your fists, and tense your arms, just so you don’t push him. Even without the quirk you were sure he could probably sense the anger building inside you. 

But then a thought hits you. 

Without saying a word, you slip your phone out your pocket and dial a number. Bakugou watches, confused but slightly curious. 

The phone only rings once before the call is picked up. Your face lightens animatedly, losing its scowl and turning into something dramatically sweet. 

“Izu…” You practically coo. “Are you free tonight?”

Bakugou’s face immediately drops at the name.

“Mhmm…” You hum. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You’re sure Bakugou can hear the man on the other end fluster but agree to what you’ve not-so subtly proposed. You give him a smug look before continuing. 

“That’s good to know…” You give Bakugou a smile, just to be dramatic. “I could wear that dress you really-“ 

You’re cut off as Bakugou grabs your wrist, pressing end call and glaring at you. 

“You wouldn’t.” He growls.

“Oh but I would.” You smile back, making sure to bare your teeth.

The two of you come to a standstill, waiting for the other to break the silence. It’s actually Bakugou who speaks first, finally yielding. 

“Fucking fine!” Exasperated, he huffs. “Fuck, I’ll send her home.”

The smug look on your face comes to a quick halt as a realisation dawns upon you.

“I don’t know her do I?” You grab him and ask with genuine dread. “Katsuki, tell me I don’t know her.”

He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you panicked.

“Katsuki!!”

“You don’t.” He waves you off. “Just a hookup.”

That surprises you. “Didn’t know you do hookups.”

“Didn’t know you were fucking Deku.” He spits it out like a slur. You’re not quite sure why though, you could’ve sworn they’d gotten over their childhood beef. 

“I’m not.” You shrug. “But I could.” 

Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, defeated and ready to kick the girl out. It’s a bit awkward now that you think of it. Neither him nor whoever was in his room right now had… gotten their release. 

Not enthusiastic about watching him break a poor girl's heart, you turn to leave, it’s at the exact same time Bakugou goes to return, and brushes his— still very much sensitive— dick against the door. 

“Shit.” You gasp as your legs jelly. It’s like a punch to the gut, sending shockwaves through your stomach. 

Bakugou catches you by the arm before you can fall, then sighs.“Come inside. You can’t drive home like that.” 

You follow him in, not making a fight,  as if you could with the way your legs had weakened. You’ve been to his apartment before, many times, but mostly with others. So you’re not sure why there’s a sudden tension that doesn’t feel like frustration anymore. You just hope Bakugou can’t feel the way your tummy continues to flutter. 

Bakugou returns, and there’s a twitch of something green in your chest when you see the women beside him. You don’t mean to stare, she’s decent at least, but you can’t help it. You try not to acknowledge that one of your first thoughts is to compare her to yourself, and feel disappointed at the lack of similarity. 

You stop mentally analysing her when she shies away from your gaze. She looks guilty. And although, yes the situation is mortifying, you’re not sure why she looks so terribly remorseful. If anything it’s you that should be apologetic— and Bakugou most certainly. 

She squeaks out a quick “Sorry” alongside a “I didn’t know” as she gathers up her stuff. Then she glares straight at Bakugou and flicks him off. That’s when it registers. 

“Oh god no, not his girlfriend!” You correct quickly. “Definitely not the girlfriend.”

You don’t notice how Bakugou’s resting frown deepens. 

The woman looks perplexed, but decides not to question it. You hear Bakugou give his own apology as he takes her to the door, attesting to the fact he wasn’t cheating. Still you feel a little bad watching her leave. 

“Make sure to call her back and explain okay?” You’re a moralist, what can you say.

“Shut up.” Bakugou groans, making his way to his open kitchen. “Catch.” He throws you a bottle of water, still cold from the fridge. “Drink and rest a bit.”

You eye him cautiously. Why is he showing courtesy now.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Bakugou huffs, then turns his head away. There’s an expression you just about catch, that seems kind of… does he feel bad?

And for some reason that just makes you feel sheepish. Enough so that you have to turn away and focus on your water instead. 

“Thought you were asleep at first.” There’s foreign sounding guilt in his voice. “And the quirk should’ve worn down by now.”

“Well it hasn’t.” You scoff, pointing a finger directly at him. “Don’t pull any shit like that again.”

Bakugou keeps to his word. He doesn’t fuck— or half fuck anyone else. Instead, his workouts become harsher, his routine now erratic. You can’t keep countering his cold morning showers, when he’s taking three a day and going straight back to the cardio as soon as he’s out. But you don’t dare ask him to cool it, you were the reason for all his pent up energy after all. 

When your knuckles start to ache due to his new found interest in boxing, he at least has the decency to text you a blunt sorry. 

“Don’t you have any other hobbies you can waste your time with.” With your phone lodged between your head and shoulder, you scold him. “I started cooking— ah !” You hiss as some oil spits at you.

“You’re lucky I’m used to explosions.” Bakugou snorts, amused. “You’re clearly doing a shit job, turn the fucking heat down.”

“Fuck off.” You turn the heat down. “My food’s gonna be perfect!”

“Hah, doubt it.”

“You can taste it yourself!” You say with a pop, licking some sauce that had gotten on your finger. “Already so good! You’ll see.”

You feel him suck in a breath but stay silent on the line. 

“Why’d you call if you were gonna ignore me.”

“M’not.” His words come out a little mumbled. “Just, gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh!” You shove a lid onto your pan. “Let me get in too!”

He kisses his teeth at that. You don’t question why he’s annoyed. 

The water hums comfortably over you. It’s nice and warm— not too warm, rather not risk another spam of texts— and it’s exactly what you needed after a day of dealing with Bakugou’s intense workouts. 

You can vaguely feel his own cold shower under yours, but for the most part, the heat does well to cancel it out. You’re used to ignoring when Bakugou cleans his thighs. Even if you can feel his thick fingers like they’re actually on you. The same way the hot water counters his cold, you clean alongside him, to pretend all you can feel is your own hands. Brushing your fingers through your hair, you go through the rest of your routine. Making sure to thoroughly scrub at all your curves.

He’s out before you are, telling by the way your water suddenly feels much warmer. Your phone flashes from the counter, Bakugou texting you to hurry the hell up, and you take that as cue to finish. 

You’re slow with your moisturising, slathering it on and massaging it into your skin. Bakugou pinches you through himself. You wonder why but ignore it and just get dressed. 

He doesn’t text you again, instead feeling uncharacteristically still. Perhaps he’d gone to sleep? You snap him a picture of your dish anyways, if he won’t taste it he can get a good look at least. You’re about to dig in when a familiar sensation builds between your legs.

He’s— he’s fucking touching himself again—

Immediately, you go to text him, but his contact pops up first. 

Bakugou [work]: It’s okay. 

Bakugou [work]: It’s just me.

Bakugou [work]: Let me have this

You’re not even sure how to respond, but you do end up abandoning your meal and take seat on your sofa. 

Me: it’s so weird 

Me: I can feel everything 

He spits on his hand, the wetness gross. Yet you can’t seem to hate it. 

Bakugou [work]: you think I can’t feel you?

Bakugou [work]: soaping yourself up? Touching your fucking tits?

You’re lucky he can’t see you. You’d be embarrassed out of your mind. Maybe because it was nothing unusual to you, you had forgotten it would feel different to a man. 

His text bubble appears once, then disappears and appears again. Finally he continues.

Bakugou [work]: just go to sleep if it bothers you so much

His hands still stroke himself but a little languidly, as if to give you option to ignore it. You don’t. 

Me: how am I supposed to sleep if you’re doing that!

His hands still, you can just imagine his laugh. 

Bakugou [work]: think of it like a massage 

He starts up again.

Bakugou [work]: I can tell you like it

Your body betrays you and he knows.

Me: you’re an asshole

Just as you send the message you feel his hands thumb his tip and the sharp feeling of pleasure that comes with it. It’s embarrassing that your first thought is so that’s how he likes it.  

Bakugou does it once more before returning back to stroke his shaft. The pace he sets is dangerously addictive. It works him up and in turn you. You’re almost keeling when you send your next text. 

Me: Fuck it

He types again but you pay no mind, shoving your free hand down your trousers and brushing over your clit. You rub gently for a second but with your slick having gathered and spread, you realise it’s not enough. 

A text flashes on screen as you press finger into yourself. You feel Katsuki tense. 

Bakugou [work]: easy pr incess

You don’t go easy. Instead you rub at your clit faster, one finger still dipping into you. Katsuki pinches his thigh, which you ignore and continue.

Then your screen flashes a different image. A picture of Dynamight, ripped straight from your company’s website, his contact photo. 

“Fuck-“ You sigh, picking up the call. “What is it.”

“You complain and then start touching yourself?” Bakugou accuses, not letting up his own pumps.

The faint slick noises in the background of his words, makes your stomach do flips. The sudden image of his cock wet and dripping now at the forefront of your mind. You don’t realise how your own moments get faster, but Bakugou does. 

“Oi.” He pants. “Slow the fuck down.”

“Are you about to come?” You let out a breathy laugh. “So fast?”

The reply you get is a harsh pinch to your nipple, one that makes you arch a little. It feels good. 

“Shit, you liked that?” Bakugou says, in a voice that practically speaks his smirk. He pinches again and this time you really moan.

“Stop it.” you whine, pushing your fingers in again, rutting against your hand. 

“Why?” Bakugou does it again and again, making you push into your hand, deeper. “You— fuck— you really like it.”

“Katsuki.”

You feel a sharp tug of pleasure, from him. 

“Oh…” you giggle. “And do you like it when I call your n-name?”

“Shut—“ he hisses, thumbing his tip, “—the fuck up.”

“Are you sure you want that?” You tease, touching yourself the way you know your body, and his, will enjoy. “Ka-tsu-ki.” 

He only responds with a deep groan, something that edges a whine. You didn’t think you could get more turned on.

“Like you’re not getting wet when I talk to you, princess .”

Now that has your tummy twisting, stomach sinking with growing lust. Your body clenches around your fingers without permission, and you can’t even attempt to hold the moan. 

“Shit,that made you fuckin’ squeeze .” He huffs, hands getting faster. “Ke-keep doing that.” He says as you work your fingers well. “Fuck . Feels so fucking good sweetheart.”

You comply, fully knowing you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Each stroke of his, paired with your indulgence, just brings you closer and closer to—

“Kats’— I’m gonna—“

“Fuck, me too [Name], me too .” His breaths are erratic and so are the wet sounds of his cock. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to come. Especially with how pent up he, and evidently you had been. It’s sort of magic, how you can feel the exact moment where the coil in him snaps, and how it dominoes onto you, forcing you to come with him. 

So blissed out, it takes a while for everything to catch up with you. The same goes for Bakugou.

“We shoul…” 

“Do you want to…”

You both start at the same time, and stop, embarrassed by what you want to suggest. 

There’s silence that feels like it burns, you’re not used to the heat like he is. You need it gone.

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

As you drive the nerves start to rise. Perhaps it’s knowing you’re going over for sex . It isn’t like the random visits you’ve made before that end in you staying a little longer, this is specific. 

You’re going over to have sex with Bakugou Katsuki.

Standing in front of his apartment you nearly turn back, his door somehow intimidatingly tall, too hard to knock. 

You don’t get to run however, not when Bakugou opens it immediately. 

He stands there, freshly showered, in only a tank and shorts. He looks fucking good.

“You just gonna stand there?” 

“Shut up” You push past him and take off your coat. He watches, entertained by your familiarity and the polite way you take off your shoes and line them up neatly.

“Youre being weird” Bakugou observes. “Its just me”

It ticks you off a little how casual he’s being. As if it means nothing, that the night before meant nothing, that what you’re about to do means nothing. 

“Oi, what is it?” Bakugou is quick to sense your apprehension.

“How are you being so normal about this,” you hiss. “do you even want to…” It’s hard to admit you’re nervous. “Do it…”

Bakugou looks at you, baffled. Which you return with a scowl. It’s like he can see the wheels turning in your head because before you can even open your mouth to speak, he's kissing you. 

His mouth is warm against yours, surprisingly soft for all the venom that leaves it. It’s also surprisingly sweet, he kisses you like it would hurt to pull away. 

“Been thinking about you all day,” he groans with the breath he takes. “All fucking day, Angel”

His hands roam and squeeze and when you place yours on him he almost whines. Mouthing at your neck, his fingers trail downwards, to cup you through your skirt. 

“You think I don’t want this?”

There’s a second where he stills, asking for your silent go ahead, and when you push into his hands he takes that glady. His fingers rub over your underwear, easily finding your clit and pressing firmly. He feels it in him, how sensitive you are, and he has to take a breath to calm down. 

Slowly you feel him pull away, and he has to gently shush you before continuing.

“Why are you teasing me.” You don’t mean to pout.

“M’not.” He hums, lowering down your body with kisses over your clothes. “Just let me taste you.” 

He’s on his knees before you can dispute, pushing his way under your skirt and ripping straight through your underwear. Bakugou just nips at your thigh when you give him a reprimanding tug. 

You’re swollen and wet, pulsing in front of his eyes. Slick clings to your folds and he stares at the way your pussy almost glimmers for him. 

And when you look down, he’s his own sight to behold.

Dynamight, on his knees, flushed with kiss swollen lips. His hair is messy, sticking to his forehead, a debauched reminder of the moisture that clings to him. His eyes are blown out, only a small ring of red circling his glittering pupils. You can see all of desire in him. You think you could stare at him forever.

But Bakugou has never been a patient man, and he doesn’t let you any longer. He attaches his mouth over you without warning. 

There isn’t the soft beginnings of timid kisses and shy licks, he is indulgent. Voracious in the way he eats you out. It’s selfish. He seeks his own pleasure through you. 

 “You like this more than me.”

He winks an eye open and then rolls it.

 “If I knew this shit felt so good I’d do it more.” He murmurs before diving straight back in.

Knowing exactly how and where it feels good, Bakugou had been given the ultimate cheat sheet to a woman’s body. The first cheat sheet he was ever intent on using.

“Kats…” You still hold reservations, not wanting to admit you’re getting close. “If you keep…”

He moans into you. “I know.”

He speeds up, disregarding any of your pleas to slow down. You realise he wants you to come. All over his face, all over him . He doesn’t hesitate in making it clear that he’ll have you coming undone right here, right now.

You can feel it in your own hair, how tightly you pull on his. It's masochistic how that makes the coil in you wind even worse. Katsuki takes that as encouragement to continue. 

It hits you quickly, and it’s embarrassing how you gush all over him. Without shame, Bakugou smiles into your still spasming pussy.

“Fuck.” Finally steadying his breaths, Bakugou groans. Still on his knees, you’re afraid to look down at the mess you’ve made. 

“Did you…” you ask, feeling a little selfish. 

“No.” He shakes his head, scrambling up to stand. “But I gotta be inside of you, now.”

Not another word can be said before he hoists you up onto his shoulder. You can’t even fathom the sudden change in height as he barrages through his flat and throws you, albeit gently, onto his bed. You nearly kick him at the audacity until you catch the darkening reds of his eyes.

Oh he’s going to ruin you. 

Bakugou pulls off his shirt, body overrun with heat, and is on top of you almost instantly. His kiss this time is heavy and hot and everything but gentle. There’s something disgustingly erotic about being able to taste yourself on his tongue. It makes you crave him. 

“In. Kats, in .” You can't even speak full sentences, only one thing on your mind. “In!”

“Yeah, okay— fuck okay” he huffs, pulling his dick out and palming it. Like the rest of his body, his cock stands with a pink flush. You’d call it pretty to tease if you weren't salivating at the sight. Instead you grab at him, to help line him up. 

He holds it there for a moment. Just outside your pulsing entrance. You reach out to rub his arm, hoping to ease his hesitance. 

It’s utterly confusing.  

Feeling him enter you, from both your perspective and his. In fact it’s a little frightening. Neither of you can hide how much it fucks with your heads.Your eyes squeeze shut and you can feel his hands fist the sheet beside you. There's a wetness along your eyelashes, a stutter in his breath. It’s all too much. 

A warm hand upon your forehead brings you back to reality. Katsuki pushes your hair out the way, and brings his lips down to kiss you. If you weren’t already in tears, you’d probably start crying all over again. It’s too sweet of a gesture. A kiss to the forehead. Something hidden begins to warm in your chest. 

“Don’t…” You gasp. “Don’t fuck me like it means something.”

His expression shifts into something pitiful. 

“You’re an idiot.” He says through kisses. “If you can’t see it, you’re an idiot.”

“What.” You whine. 

“You think I don’t care for you?” Kissing a tear away, he explains. “You think I’d do this shit for anyone?”

“[Name]” He kisses off the pout that forms on your lips. “I fucking like you.”

Its like everything stops. Then everything bursts. Fuck . He likes you. The same way you’ve been pretending you don’t this whole time.

“Shit.” Katsuki recoils at the silence. “I shouldn’t—”

This time it's you who cuts him off from spiralling, kissing him and pushing your hips closer. He reaches deeper and though it’s so so much, you wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world. 

The two of you are quick to find a rhythm, intrinsically linked and sickeningly pleasurable. It should be overwhelming, but his hand in yours keeps you grounded. His presence protects you. 

When he hits a particular spot inside you, you jolt in surprise. And Katsuki whines. Actually whines. His voice at a foreign pitch. He doesn’t let you anticipate his next thrust, for he pushes back instantly, hitting that spot over and over again. 

It’s a sticky mess of needy sobs and heavy breaths, bodies pressed together with heavy desire. He doesn’t have to wonder how good you feel, he knows . So when something bubbles up inside of you, he’s quick to chase it. 

“Gonna…” You can hardly get the words out, not that you need to. 

He responds by letting his fingers trail down and over your clit. His circles are impatient, taking, and you’d laugh at how spoilt he was, if you weren’t enjoying it so badly yourself. 

It’s when he brings his lips down to yours one last time, does everything finally topple over. 

It absolutely shatters you. 

One orgasm alone is enough, but having two? Of both male and female? It’s devastating. It whites out your vision, blocks out any sound— all you can feel is the rapture that comes from the two of you. 

It takes a good few minutes for either of you to calm down and unattach yourselves. But even then you cling to him, wanting him as close as possible. He gives in despite his own fatigue, holding you while his fingers run up and down your arm to soothe. You don’t even realise the quirk has faded, your bodies in sync with or without. 

“Could get addicted…” Katsuki breaks the silence first, a small chuckle in his words. “Women are fucking lucky.”

You’re finally starting to notice the way you can no longer feel your own body through his and look at him with sympathy. You give him a pitiful pat— the wonders of the female body, he would never forget it.

You sit in his embrace a little longer, ignoring him shuffle about when your phone starts to ring. The screen lights up to his contact, but before you can question why, he speaks.

“I’m still ‘Bakugou [work]?’” 

It takes a moment for you to understand what he’s talking about and when you do, you laugh. 

“And a picture from the site?” He frowns, pinching your cheek. “Seriously?”

“Bet you don’t even have one for me.” 

“Yes I fucking do.” Katsuki shoves his phone in your face. 

And true to his word, he does in fact have a photo for you. It’s one you’re surprised he even has. It isn’t snagged off a news article, or even one of those fansites that for some reason existed— it’s a picture of the two of you, a candid Kirishima was probably responsible for.

“Why’d you pick that.” You snort, zooming into the photo. “You can barely see me.”

Katsuki shoves his chin down to your shoulder before snatching back his phone. “You looked cute.” He mumbles. “Tha’s all.”

There’s a conversation to be had, even if you’re hesitant. You put on a brave face and ask.

“You really like me, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” 

“Fine I won’t tell you how I really like you.”

Katsuki nudges you with his cheek, and when you peek over at him, there’s a resting pink under his skin. 

He can be so cute sometimes. You wonder if anyone else has seen him like this. 

Then you remember. 

“What about that girl?!” You don’t mean to sound accusatory, but you’re sure the unprompted pout that comes with your words says enough.

“You’re jealous?” Katsuki teases, you feel the smile against your skin. Then it turns into a little frown. “What about you and…” He can’t even say it. 

“We haven’t done anything!” You correct him immediately. “We’ve only made out.” 

“Oh shut up, don’t tell me.” He grumbles, grabbing your chin to guide your mouth to his. “You’re mine now.” He’s asking, begging even, you can tell. “Okay?””

You smile and swerve his next kiss, shaking your head. “Maybe take me on a date first.” 

“I was going to—” He looks a bit scandalised, you didn’t realise he could be so traditional. “Fuck off I was.”

“So what made you wait.” You shouldn’t push, but it’s fun to watch his fluster. “The sex?”

“Could feel you doing everything.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, realising your game. “Like you were under my fuckin’ skin.”

“And that turned you on?” 

He reaches out to cup your breasts. “Of course that shit turned me on. ‘Was like my own hand.” He squeezes. “Cant blame a man.”

You realise only now is he finally touching you on his own. Without your sensations overriding his. You let him have his fascination. You don’t stop his hands from exploring.

Instead you sink into his curiosity, a little interested yourself to see how far it’ll go.

Haiii I hope the concept isn’t confusing, tried to make it make sense 🤾🏽

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

10/Ten

Sevika who kisses your soaked cunt after having a feast.

@tiyawnyana: I saw the tik tok on my feed and saved it IMMEDIATELY! 😛

Not Proofread || Note: Guys this was totally rushed, I promise I’ll have a comeback…

There was nothing your girlfriend loved more than eating you out.

And she made sure you knew that.

Legs wrapped around Sevika’s neck, she could gladly eat you out for hours. With her mouth latched onto your pretty clit she sucked and tasted every throb, every pulse, it gave out. Her mech and flesh hands held your thighs open, occasionally giving you a squeeze of approval and letting you know she was enjoying your taste.

Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life. Your mind was hazy with pleasure, your hips bucked for more friction, and your hands gripped the sheets beneath you at an unsuccessful attempt to stay composed, all the while your heart pounded faster than ever. With your girlfriend’s tongue now exploring your soaked, possibly even drenched, pussy you found it increasingly harder to keep your voice down. Not that she wanted you to.

Sevika could never help herself from every drop of cum that left your entrance, she’d fuck you broken if she wanted to. But, all that was on her mind was your needy pussy in her face, it’s all she wanted, really. Your girlfriend let her tongue run wild, entering your tight cunt and feeling you squish around her. Which she laughed at.

“Y’like that?” Was her playful response, she didn’t even let you answer as she slurped you up. Quite literally. Your woman was eating you out like it was the last thing she’d do, like it was her last meal. You shakily moan at each contact, each sensation she provided. With your head tilted to the side her silver eyes locked onto yours and watched every twitch of a reaction on your face.

The drop of your jaw, the furrow of your brows, and even the bite of your swollen lip. It all made her proud. “S’fuckin’ good, hm?” She murmured, giving your thighs a slap and spreading your folds open with her flesh fingers. “I love this pretty pussy o’yours.” Was all Sevika said before diving in and sucking up every drop of cum that left you. All the while she forced you to keep eye contact. Her stare meant seriousness, one look-away and she’d give your thighs a squeeze, even a gentle shake of disapproval.

With the heat pooling in your throbbing cunt, all you could do was feel. Feel how your girlfriend’s lips wrapped around your clit, occasionally giving it a bite and letting her tongue rub all over it. And, of course you were vocal, letting your girlfriend know it felt good with breathy moans and shaky whimpers.

“Vika, fuckk.. right there!” And she’d continue rubbing her tongue where you most needed it. “Fuck.. I’m close, babe— I’m close..” and, of course, Sevika would fastened her pace for your pleasure. Even a barely audible whimper had her working harder.

Thighs tightening their wrap around her head, you let your head fall back as you neared your high. With the final few licks, final few sucks, you let your body surrender to the, unbelievably satisfying, orgasm. Hips shuddering, your girlfriend held them still as she helped you ride through it all. Her tongue slowing it’s heavenly pace before she came to a halt.

Both hands now on your thighs, she watched as you raised your head and gave her a weary smile. “That good?” She murmured into your skin, returning a smirk before her dark lips presed loving kisses on your entrance and made her way up to your clit; which, of course, had your hips shuddering. “Ten out of ten, baby..” She didn’t stop at that, continuing her pecking until your hips were shuddering and you were breathlessly chuckling.

Sevika liked seeing you happy.

[lilly-townshend]

drawing Zaun revolutionaries as kids because I REFUSE to consume more angst

(and bonus slide)

[cremeful]

thinking about how stack is so mean in bed :c .. how he just manhandles you so easily as if you’re made out of feathers, flipping you over on to your back and folding you into a mating press…

“oh look at you” he say it mockingly, you look absolutely wrecked, soft curls tossed, dark redish and purple bruises decorate your skin, drool smeared all over your mouth nd chin.. yet stack still thinks you look beautiful.

his cock bullies his way inside of you, you’re gripping on too his shoulders for dear life as if you could float away, tears staining your face, from the pure bliss. you start blabbing out incoherent thoughts but stack understand you better than yourself.

you’re to far gone and he just put his cock in you, it’s embarrassing to say the least. stack is a man that is there to give and you are there to take but something about this is different. he is taking everything from you and you are letting him.

he sits up on his knees, your legs now laying across his thighs, he leans down and kisses you. it’s sloppy and wet. his tongue slips into yours and your panting like a dog in heat, your hand on the back of his neck pulling him in to get even closer. he pulls away with a string of saliva following.

“such a nasty little thing. who taught you these things, huh?” he’s taunting you like he doesn’t know the answer, the first time you two had sex was your first time and he turned you out to say the least.

you say nothing, pushing your hips up for friction, a soft plead leaves your lips, he chuckles and pushes your hips down, “lets play a little game, called find the button.” his voice is sickening sweet yet he is doing things that shouldn’t sound remotely close to sweet. he watches as he slides into you, he can see you coat his length, he laughs to himself.

you try pushing at his stomach for him to let up but your weak temps barely break his focus. once he is fully inside of you, he slowly starts thrusting inside of you. you can feel him in your stomach, heart and soul. you try closing your legs but his grip is tight and wont allow you the mercy.

“no, its okay. you can take it, its all yours” he says it breathless. your squeezing around him so tightly that it makes him dizzy, his hand comes down to your stomach and presses down. you cry out, gripping the sheets “i cant i cant!” he just laughs, “i think i found it baby”