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evanchantingpeters · 3 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident

Thursday, 16:42 pm

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10��, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!”

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!”

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)”

“we’re going live.. tune in xx”

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him.��

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night.

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans.

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic… just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him.

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now.

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy.

But you can’t help it.

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality.

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be.

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now.

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B.

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real.

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home.

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream.

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour.

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward.

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand.

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is.

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior.

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound.

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are.

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks.

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him.

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally.

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this.

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so.

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in.

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile.

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?”

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles.

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying.

You’re gonna make him beg for it.

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.”

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge.

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire.

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.”

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue.

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth.

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps.

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there.

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips.

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow.

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips.

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement.

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two.

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy.

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core.

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control.

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat.

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure.

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great.

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

126 notes · View notes

littlefireball · 7 months ago

Note

can I get an idol yeosang x reader where they are chilling in the dorms and they start to go at it and while she starts to squirt onto Yeo, the other boys walk in and etc? Please make it your own as well💙

Thx for the request! Actually I once wrote a similar article, but that was wooyoung. This article is different from that of course ;)

ʏꜱ|ᴏᴏᴘꜱ! (ᴍ)

ɪᴅᴏʟ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.5ᴋ

In the happiest moment, you find yourself lying on the couch with Yeosang, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. His chest rises and falls against your back, enveloping you in his comforting scent.

Alone in the dorm, you can relax in his embrace, a rare display of affection between just the two of you. The rest of ATEEZ might find it surprising how clingy Yeosang can be when no one else is around.

"Wanna watch a movie?" he asks, planting a gentle kiss on your temple as he caresses your head.

"Any movie is fine," you reply. Yeosang scrolls through the movie options, unable to decide.

So that you suggest a game: closing your eyes and choosing a movie at random when he says stop. He agrees, and you quickly pick a movie to watch.

As the movie plays, you both become engrossed in the story. Suddenly, Yeosang notices something familiar on the screen.

"Do you recognize them?" he asks, but you brush it off, urging him to continue watching.

However, as the scene unfolds, it becomes clear that you've accidentally chosen an adult film.

The female was pushing onto the bed, her wrists and ankles were locked together with handcuffs. Both of their clothes were pulled down, lying naked on the bed making out.

"Hiss..." You finally remember these two characters and the name of this movie- fifty shades of grey.

Oh my god, you still can't believe what you have chosen.

As the female's moaning sound fills up the air, the erotic fantasy washes over both of you.

Although the sex scene is short, you both are turned on. The heat of the moment washes over you both, stirring desire and arousal. Your bodies react to the erotic scene, heartbeats quickening and pulses racing.

In the midst of the unexpected turn of events, you and Yeosang find yourselves drawn closer. You can feel he pushes further aiming for more friction and there is something hard nestling between your ass cheeks.

As you feel his hand trailing down to your tummy, a nervous excitement courses through you, causing you to bite your lip.

His touch circles gently, seeking permission, and you can't help but let out a soft moan, the sound escaping your lips accidentally.

"Babe, how should we handle this?" Yeosang's voice is a mix of concern and desire as he presses forward, showering your face with kisses.

His tongue traces over your skin, occasionally nipping playfully. You lean into him, granting him more access, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Let's figure it out together," you whisper, cupping his face with one hand and pulling him into a passionate kiss. He responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with a hint of urgency.

It surprises you, this slight roughness from him, as he's usually so gentle. Parting your lips, you welcome his tongue, the intimate dance between your mouths intensifying.

The sounds of your kissing and moaning drown out the background noise of the TV, creating a world where only the two of you exist. His hand moves to your pants, swiftly pulling them down and caressing your clit.

A soft moan escapes your lips as his thumb circles your sensitive nub, while his fingers slide smoothly into your warmth.

"You're so wet," he murmurs between kisses, his own desire evident. He's not one for dirty talk, but the movie seems to have ignited a primal side of him.

"I need to prepare you well before you take me," he breathes, his words fueling the fire within you. The sensations below send waves of pleasure through your body.

"I'm cumming, babe," you gasp as your walls tighten around his fingers, each thrust hitting your sweet spot with precision.

Juices flow, wetting his fingers and creating a slick, erotic sound.

"Let go for me," he urges, his voice husky with desire. You surrender to the climax, your head throws back in ecstasy.

"You did so well, darling," he praises, leaning in to kiss your lips.

"Babe, I want to try something," he suggests, tilting your head as he straddles you.

"You mean... handcuffs?"

"I know Wooyoung has a pair," he reveals, surprising you but also piquing your curiosity.

With a quick nod, you both share a knowing smile and he goes to wooyoung's room to get one.

Feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, it is a first for both of you to explore this new experience at Yeosang's request.

The anticipation is palpable as he returns with a handcuff and condom, his gaze fills with desire mirroring your own.

Following the lead of a character in a movie, he undressed both of you, leaving your bodies bare and vulnerable.

With a whispered reassurance to communicate any discomfort, you nodded as he secured your wrists and ankles with the cool touch of metal, igniting a fiery passion within you.

"Tell me if it's too much." As he rolls the condom onto his length, your nerves heightens with the anticipation of his entry.

"Love you babe." With a declaration of love, he positions himself at your entrance, his thrusts eliciting a primal response from deep within you.

"Hah~" The sensation of being restrained added a thrilling edge to the intimacy, intensifying every touch and movement between you.

Despite the unfamiliarity of being bound, you try to find a comfortable position, only to be thwarted by Yeosang's unyielding control. His rhythmic thrusts and the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, heightening the intensity of the moment.

What you can do is throw your head on the armrest, just like what the female did in the movie, moan from Yeosang's movement.

Yearning to touch him, your attempts are thwarted by the restraints, forcing you to surrender to the pleasure he is giving you.

Your moans and cries of pleasure mingle with the sounds of your bodies coming together, creating a symphony of desire that enveloped you both in its embrace.

"Ah~ah~Sangie~"As he hits your most sensitive spot, the pleasure surges through you, driving him to push harder and faster.

The symphony of your lovemaking crescendoed, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy, lost in the intoxicating dance of passion and desire.

"Please sangie, I want to touch you."

"Use your other hand then."

"You brat." He smirks at you as he picks up the pace, eliciting gasps and moans from you. The sound of your voice sends a jolt of electricity through his body, igniting a fire within him.

"Cum for me, babe," he urges, his own voice husky with desire. You moan uncontrollably, unable to contain the pleasure that courses through you, leaving you breathless and speechless.

You two don't expect there are so many sex scenes, as the rough skin slapping sound comes out from the TV, both kf your minds are consumed by a whirlwind of ecstasy, overwhelming your senses.

"Shit."

The sounds of passion from the TV blend with your own, creating a symphony of desire that heightens the intensity of the moment.

"I need deeper."

Yeosang places his hands on your head for support as he thrusts, each movement deliberate and deep, pushing you to the brink of pleasure. Your breath catches in your throat, your body arching in response to the overwhelming sensations.

Your leg wraps around his waist, drawing him closer, allowing him to delve deeper into your depths. The rhythm of his movements builds, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy.

"Sangie," you cry out, on the cusp of release, the intensity of the moment almost reaching its peak. All you need is a few more thrusts, just ,more.

---

"Why does Yeosang have the TV so loud? We can hear it outside," Wooyoung complains as he unlocks the door.

"Maybe he's playing video games?" Yunho suggests.

"But he doesn't need to blast it. Our neighbors might complain," Wooyoung argues.

"It's not that serious," Jongho counters.

The rest of ATEEZ knows you would stay company with yeosang, so they leave early for dinner. Now they come back and neither of you know what the other is doing.

"Hey, kang yeosang, turn the volume down!" Wooyoung shouts, only to be met with a shocking sight of you both in an intimate moment.

"WHAT THE FUCKK!!!" "HOLY SHIT!" They all swear in disbelief. You feel embarrassed and try to cover your face, forgetting that you are handcuffed.

"Hey, Yeosang, what the hell!" Wooyoung points to the handcuffs but quickly averts his gaze when he sees you naked.

"Hey, sangie..." You urge him to unlock the handcuff and escape as soon as possible.

However, he doesn't stop thrusting and smirks at you.

"What? Wanna join us?" Yeosang's face twisted into an evil smirk as he exposes you to the group without a care.

Oh, because he knows, he knows you have this kink or even want to try something new but you never told him. It's just that he noticed it himself. You can't help but let out a moan as he thrusts deeply.

Trying to stifle your sounds, you lock eyes with the stunned onlookers. They are unable to tear their gaze away from the sight of Yeosang moving in and out, and your body responding in kind.

"See, babe, they all want you."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez ye #yeosang smut

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊k.bkg + birth control begone ꒱

『♡』 Stopping birth control has turned you into something akin to an insatiable succubus.

『♡』 @crybaby-bkg for the idea because she made an original post that heavily inspired this ! I stopped my birth control one time and stopped feeling attracted to my at the time boyfriend of almost two years Lmaoooo but anyways! This is like way fucking longer than I thought it would be.

『♡』 18+, mild scenting kink??, idk it’s like not abo but but like ..mm, raw sex,, mating press, breeding, mild degredation, pussy eating, one orgasm denial, finger sucking, biting, established relationship, f! Reader, squirting, some marking / biting

The idea was his. Birth control made you sluggish and less alive almost. He didn’t like seeing it, watching you struggle with certain symptoms. Over the years, he reached out to different contacts for an alternative. There were none, unfortunately.

Part of it was wanting to take burden off of you and your body. You’d been exhausted of the headaches and fatigue. Random ups and downs with your weight was beginning to cause confidence issues. So you stopped taking it.

And god, you’re thriving.

Katsuki piddles with the pen in his hand and watches tv. The blue light of the screen no match for the warmth of daylight. Click click click. He clicks the side of it, mild frown gracing his features at the characters on the screen.

Your head lays on the expanse of his chest. Tan skin against your own, cheek smooshed against the muscle there, listening to his pretty little thump of a heartbeat. His beefy arm relaxes on top of your body and rubs minuscule circles near your hip bone.

It’s relaxing. It’s peaceful.

Until your nose nudges near his throat and you inhale deeply. The skin of his neck is soft and smells so much like honey that your mouth begins to water. Heat pools in the pits of your tummy slowly as you press in and inhale again.

“What’re you doin brat?” The blonde sighs, thick brow raised and eyes flitting over to you.

Your tongue traces a little line up from his collar bone to his jaw. Suddenly the characters on screen don’t make much sense, haze slowly seeping into the air of your apartment. His cock begins to stir in his sweats, eyes flicking toward you again and tongue sweeping over the plush of his lips.

“M’ just.. you smell so good baby..” You drawl, nipping at the skin near his jaw a little. Your hand slides down the planes of his torso, low purr forming in the back of your throat, excitement building.

Katsuki snorts, “I smell good?” He tilts his head a bit and groans lowly, allowing you to have your way for now, letting you play.

You nod while sucking a purple mark on his collar bone. A shiver runs up and down his spine at the feeling of your nimble fingers sliding over the fabric, palming at his semi. His lips open to let out a puff of air and before he can blink you’re on top of him. Panties pressed against the fabric covering his cock, pussy slowly leaking and soaking through the threads.

“God you smell so good— makes me wanna lick every part of you and suck you dry.” You coo,hips rocking forward and lips finding his. He just smells so.. so him. It feels so good to smell like him.

“Oh—“

You’re rutting against him like a bitch in heat. He doesn’t know how the two of you got here this fast— you sniffed his neck and suddenly now you’re dry humping him like your life fucking depends on it. And god he loves it, he just eats it up.

Katsuki’s cock is so hard now that the pen is tossed to the ground. He focuses on the way your mouth feels against his, his tongue sliding toward your own, the way you taste. The dampness against his sweats is beginning to soak through. Precum leaks from the head of his cock and he bucks up toward you.

“God baby— what’s gotten into you hmm?” Thick fingers reach toward your panties, swiping over the soaked area. He groans and curses to himself before slipping them beneath the fabric and toward your clit.

The moan you let out makes his body heat up a few degrees. Sweat beads up on him and the smell has your pussy squeezing around nothing. You lean back and he lays you down on the couch and yanks the panties off of you. Before you can give him an answer his tongue is licking stripes through your folds.

You feel almost intoxicated. Possessive, high on him, obsessed with becoming part of him— you can’t describe it. But he smells just enough like heaven to make you sin.

Your pussy squelches when two of his fingers enter, feeling around and pushing in and out. His tongue circles your clit, lips wrapping around to suck. And he’s on cloud nine.

Ever since you’ve been off birth control it’s been like this. You pounce on him when he’s least expecting it, beg him to fuck cum into you, and then walk around in his clothing for hours after.

Your hips buck and your fingers grip wheat colored strands of hair like he’s your lifeline. Like he’s the only thing keeping you on earth, but your heart pounds in your ears and something similar to a coil is tightening in your tummy. Slick juice spills from you and onto the poor couch below despite Katsuki trying in earnest to lick it all up.

It feels good, it sounds good, it smells good— he’s got fingers in your pussy and his tongue lapping up juices. He eats like he’s starving every time, placing a little smack on your ass when you squirm a bit too much. Cherry irises look up to you, watching your face scrunch and your jaw drop. The coil feels like it’s about to snap, your toes starting to curl as you press your pussy against his face more. You’re practically using his tongue like a toy, rubbing yourself against his mouth and begging like a desperate whore.

And then he stops and sends you into a hissy fit. Your oversized tshirt is snatched off of you, tossed to the side.

“Katsuki what the fu-“

His fingers are shoved into your mouth before you can finish. One hand coming to palm with the mound of your breast as he now looks down at you.

“You see how you taste baby? Taste so fuckin good—“ He licks his lips, pulling his fingers out with a wet pop sound.

You look at him in a daze, fucked out and confused. Your orgasm ripped from your hands and the smell of caramel and honey thick in the room. You consider clawing at him, sinking your teeth down, finding a way to smell like him forever.

He uses a hand to guide his cock toward your slick folds, sliding the weight through them and against your clit. Sweat beads on his temples and chest while his pants are pulled down to his knees. And you’re losing it.

“Hnn fuck, fuck, baby I need it” you babble.

His cock sheathes in one fluid motion, burying to the hilt. Both his meaty hands push your legs up toward your shoulders and he’s so close your senses are flooded. It’s overwhelming, feeling him this close.

“Hahh.. pretty little thing.” Katsuki rasps, slamming his hips forward and up. He’s so deep that the tip of his precum covered length presses against your cervix. And oh, it makes him dizzy. A little too excited, too ballsy.

“Oh fuck me, god you’re in my belly— cmere baby,” You babble nearly incoherently and card your fingers through his hair and pull him in. Your nose nuzzles against his neck and you inhale again, getting high off it. It’s like you can feel it seeping into your veins, becoming part of you.

His dick is always so weighty, pushing up and pounding into your pussy. Squelching and clapping, frothing lightly at the base while you dig your nails into one of his shoulders. His eyes meet yours and keep the contact, like he’s swallowing your soul whole and replacing it with part of his.

“Yeah? You wanna be stuck with me forever don’t you? Bet you want to be scented and stuffed full of cum till you’re pregnant huh?” He pistons his hips up and holds you there, pressing down on your lower tummy a little like he can feel himself there. You make a desperate noise, realizing he took a peek into one of the books you read recently— and something you starts to snap.

“Yeah, yeah, god yeah I do ‘kats!” Your nails dig deeper into his shoulders and you sink your teeth into his neck.

He slams in again, so deep and hard it nearly hurts, and you fall apart. Your jaw clamps down, nails dragging across his shoulders and eyes rolling back while you take in his scent. It wafts around the room and makes you float. You can taste it, you swear, like caramel melting in your mouth.

Clear substance spurts from your pussy and all over your tummy and his. The blonde watches in awe with his abs flexing to still himself as you finish. Your pussy squeezes him and sucks him in so much he can’t stop himself.

He buries himself to the hilt and pushes his cock against your cervix. His head throws back, eyes squeezing shut as the air is taken from his lungs. The bite on his throat hurts and makes him dizzy in the best ways. His balls tighten, hands squeezing at your body as he cums.

“Oh fuck.” He whines, groaning and panting.

Cum fills your pussy up to the brim, slowly leaking out as he stays inside the heat. You begin to relax your jaw and lick at his throat like an apology. Your nose nudges near his jaw and you begin to unravel yourself from him.

Katsuki’s hair sticks to his forehead, he pants and pulls out, laying on top of you. The two of you lay like that for a while before he’s pulling up his sweats with a breathy laugh.

“God you pounced on me, you perv!” He snickers, poking the side of your tummy while you lay under him and look for your shirt.

“Yeah well you read my damn book!” You sit up, tossing on the shirt and grinning with a brow raised. He turns a little pink and rolls his eyes.

“That ain’t the point! Dammit, just gimme a kiss .” The blonde snorts, leaning over toward you and kissing your lips lightly. He still tastes like your pussy and you still taste like his sweat.

He’ll talk to you about it later. Maybe— just needs to let you sniff him a bunch again. Then he can pop quiz you, ask you what the fixation is about. You’ll deny it for a minute, but you can’t hide the pink on your cheeks when he comes in sweaty from work.

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yourlnterlude · 8 months ago

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One of my friends had requested this but she doesn’t have tumblr but I thought I might as well post it on here.

IN WHICH,

the greasers/gang reacts to how you hug them out of no where.

!! WARNINGS !!

Just a slight bit of cussing and a lot of fluff. Enjoy!

Darrel Curtis

- oh lover boy

- would kinda freak out ngl

- but he enjoys your hugs

- he’s not really affectionate himself but he can and also will hug you back if he had the meaning too

- he thinks it’s really sweet of you to just give him a hug like that

Sodapop Curtis

- he is probably DYING to get a hug from you

- once he did, he was happy, like very very happy

- he couldn’t explain it

- just like Darry, he enjoys your hugs, a lot

- not to mention but bro is the type of one to have you in a death grip, and won’t let go until you can’t breathe

- Stan Sodapop, he’s the type of one to grab YOUR ass while hugging you 😭

Ponyboy Curtis

- just a hug of reassurance would be good for once in a while

- but this time it wasn’t out of reassurance

- it was out of love actually

- that boy was shocked

- he loves your hugs, he wishes he can stay in your arms all day

- but, he can’t:c

Johnny Cade

- this boy would do ANYTHING to get his hands on affection but he is somewhat scared someone is going to hurt him after what his parents did to him

- you hugged him and told him that everything was going to be okay, and that you weren’t going to let no one hurt him anymore

- he struggles to show how he feels so you randomly hugging him out of no where lets him open up a bit

- he loves your hugs too much to be honest, he’s so affectionate starved

- but is careful around other people when you hug him because he doesn’t want to get you NOR him jumped because that’s his biggest fear

Steve Randle

- god, can you handle the Randle?

- I sure as hell can’t

- giving this man a hug is like asking for a death wish

- he’s just like soda, he’ll hug you back but when he hugs you, it’s like you’re gonna die from suffocation

- but he’s really sweet about you giving him random hugs

- he thinks it’s adorable

Two-Bit Matthews

- hehe you like giving hugs to Two-Bit Matthews

- he’s so sweet and passionate about it, you can’t get over it- what???

- craves your touch fr

- he’s always talking about you to the rest of the gang about how you just give him random ass hugs out of no where and he won’t SHUT UP.

“You know, my girlfriend gives me hugs randomly- and I love them so much, just like the feeling of her on me makes me wanna scream- and I can’t explai-“

“SHUT UP TWO-BIT, YOU TALK TOO MUCH, WONDER WHY WE DIDNT CALL YOU TWO-SHITS 🙄😒”

“🙁🙏”

- yeah and it goes a little something like that

Dallas Winston

- Dally, Dally, Dally.

- he hates affection. (No he wouldn’t have a soft side for you. Unless it’s out of character.)

- but he likes them, somewhat.

- it’s kinda confusing to tell if he likes them or he’s just cringing

- sometime he needs that hug too no matter what he’s going through

- but he doesn’t like the feeling, of love actually after what happened with him and Sylvia.

- there’s a slight 5% chance he’ll hug you back but most of the time he will just wrap an arm around you or he doesn’t hug back.

A/N: thank you for reading this as it my first headcannon post. Normally when I post these, it’s on Wattpad or something else, but this one just kinda felt special with me, you know? anyways, bye!!!

#dallas winston #dally winston #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders ponyboy #johnny cade #two bit mathews #steve randle #darrel curtis #im gay #I need Matt Dillion oiled up in my bed for my birthday #stay gold #the outsiders x reader

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marikosenwrites · 11 months ago

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📓✧˖°.bungo stray dogs smut scenarios and hcs

sen: my first smut fic lmao idk what and how i do but i'm gonna TRY MY BEST feed back is VERY MUCH appreciated i originally planned to do purely fic no hcs but i decided against that ^v^ tell me if you want the word count because i'm unsure if i should put it or not

characters: ada!dazai osamu, edogawa ranpo, chuuya nakahara

warnings: smut, mdni, im still putting ooc here, binding, biting (i'm still thinking tell me if smth needs to be added), rough sex (?), oral sex, use of y/n

(starts under the cut!)

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ dazai osamu

୨୧ loves binding you with random things that are flexible near him, like a tie or his bandages and things like that

୨୧ dazai just tangles his hand in your hair and like weaves through the strands and he doesn't want to pull his hand out so just pulls your hair and stuff

୨୧ if you ask him to be gentle, he compiles immediately and starts slowing down his relentless thrusts

୨୧ likes preparing you first (using his skilled fingers)

୨୧ when you're all wet he just invites himself

୨୧ pm!dazai would have done gunplay occasionally

scenario:

"bella- shit, you feel so, so, good, baby, yeah- god," dazai moans, his pace not slowing down, but becoming faster, which was what you hadn't expected.

a few whimpers and moans escape your lips, turning the taller on more, "'s-'samu, s-shit, slow down," you whimper some more as dazai hoists a leg on to his shoulder, allowing him to reach deeper places into your hole.

you scream, only to be stopped by two fingers going into your mouth. "shush, bella, yosano-san will find out. you certainly don't want that, do you?"

you shook your head in response, tears rapidly flowing down and reaching the crumpled sheets. although you cried, it was because of both the pain and the pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you.

"osamu..." you mumble as he slowed down his pace to an actually bearable one. "you're too harsh on me."

"oh? is that so?" he grinned and started to fasten his pace once again. "hmm?"

"o-osamu-! fuck-" as your pretty mewing and moans reached his ears, he grabbed a string of bandage on the nightstand next to you and tied your hands with it. "-osamu?"

"mm, you look more delightful than ever like this, bella." the man smirked.

"shall the show officially begin, now?"

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ edogawa ranpo

୨୧ into foodplay is the first thing i'll say

୨୧ loves sucking on tits too (literally his favorite thing to do what am i on about)

୨୧ loves sex after a tired day at work (like MINOURA or new people insulting him and stuff) (by insulting i mean saying that he isn't a good enough detective)

୨୧ sex between the both of you always starts with a make out session and then (and then) BOOM you strip and the good part starts

୨୧ he is a lazy bottom for real but when he's mad/frustrated oh boy you bouta see some stars

୨୧ loves when you top him

scenario:

quite a while had passed since you were bouncing on his on his cock, your moans and his combining into a harmony that was unique on the world, and only happens once a week or so.

ranpo had come home from a bad day, a frustrating one. you had always tended to his needs when it came to to tired days. and the same applies for you.

"mm...you look so nice bouncing like that f'me, sugar," the raven-head grins as he aids you with his hand.

you moan prettily, as you say, "ranpo- ngh-"

his moans get louder as he goes closer to reaching his peak. a while more after, you come with him closely following you in the motion. "well, sugar," his chest heaves up and down. "did you enjoy it?"

"m-mhm," you nod, unable to speak too much.

"well," he flips you around, now him on top of you as he puts the lollipop he was sucking in your mouth.

"let's begin round two."

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ nakahara chuuya

୨୧ not into gunplay, just because he's in the mafia, doesn't mean he has to be into gunplay right?

୨୧ is really soft with you once you warm up and stuff

୨୧ doesn't really have kinks

୨୧ had this one time he used his ability to pin you down

୨୧ active bottom? maybe. likes being in control more, though

୨୧ loves giving oral

scenario:

"doll, y/n, you're taking me so good, fuck-" chuuya groans in pleasure as your throat contracts and takes his length fully.

"ngh-" you couldn't really speak, considering...his dick was down your whole throat.

the red-head threw his head back as his eyes shut close, all while waves of pleasure overwhelmed his whole body and took over him.

your gaze went up, and observed chuuya. it was as if he had no more self-restraint at all. his gloved hand was tangled in your h/c hair, as he subconsciously massaged your scalp.

your groans met chuuya's sensitive ears and the sounds only turn him on more.

"sweetheart- ngh, fuck, s'good-" he felt some weird feeling gather at the bottom at his spine. was it his orgasm coming? perhaps. but in that moment, nothing mattered. in this world, you are his only pillar. you are his life. you are his everything.

one last moan and he came in your mouth, and less than a few seconds later, you also came. he pulled out as he watched his cum drip from his tip, and you swallowing the bodily fluid your hot session had produced.

"you were so good, doll." chuuya tenderly wiped a few beads of sweat off your forehead.

"i-" you swallowed your saliva, "it felt...good. maybe we should try again some other time, chuu."

"'s that so?" he smiled.

"we should end the night here. we're tired, after all."

©all banners, dividers, and stories are made by marikosenwrites and the pictures in it are from pinterest. i own none of the bungo stray dogs/bungou stray dogs/文豪ストレイドッグス characters mentioned here. all rights reserved, please do not steal.

mdni banner taken from @cafekitsune! (their work is much appreciated)

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #bsd smut #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #ranpo x reader #mdni #sen's works #i learnt gradient text

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saturnsorbits · 1 year ago

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Walk This Way

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kink Discovery, A Touch of Foot Humping, Shoe Appreciation. Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Kink discovery with Kirishima: Heels.

A/N: I've been toying around with random kink/character generators and this was the first thing it spat out, so here's my Kirishima + Heels offering.

Kirishima's throat is dry.

It shouldn't be.

He's seen you get dressed countless times and apart from the occasional stiffening in his jeans (You're hot and although, gentle, he is, but a man) and him having to avert his eyes occasionally, for decencies sake, he's never felt like this.

Licking over his lips, he readjusts his seat on the edge of your bed and subtly rests his forearm over the crotch of his pants. From his perch he can see you through the half-ajar door of the en-suite. Your hair and make-up is already done and you've slipped yourself into a dress that is positively sinful. It's new, something he's never seen you wear before and damn, he thinks, do you wear it.

So lost is he in his daze, wondering just what it is that hides under the delicate lace and thin straps he doesn't quite register you slipping out of the bathroom and heading towards him.

Tilting your head, you prop a hand on your hip and tilt your head. 'I'm taking the slack jaw to mean that I look alright, then?'

Kirishima coughs the saliva from his throat and shakes his head. Reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, he tries to ease his tension with a thumb digging hard into the muscle. 'Yeah, you look... You look great.'

'Good.' Turning on the balls of your feet, you slink over to your wardrobe and bend to rummage in the small shoe rack slipped inside. 'Let me just throw my shoes on and we can head out, yeah?'

Nodding, Kirishima turns his mind to the mundane – point blank refusing to stare at the curve of your ass as it pokes up and out of the wardrobe. God only knows what hot water he'd find himself in if he allowed himself to stare. 'S- Sounds good.'

'Can you -.'

The air is knocked clean out of Kirishima's chest when you turn back to face him. You're wearing shoes now, heels, tall black things with a strip of material that bars across your toes. At your ankle two black straps hang loose, waiting to be tied.

Swallowing, Kirishima lets his eyes trace the heels. He gains a whole new appreciation for curves as he looks at you.

There's a delicate bend to your foot now, a subtle 'S' that pushes you up forcing the muscles of your calves to tighten. It's too easy to loose himself, becoming absorbed in the jutting bend of your ankle bone, to the long stretch of your calves that leans out stretching wide around your knees before giving way to plush thigh and an ass he can tell by your posture is pushed out enough that he'd be able to slip behind and grind against.

Still, his eyes slip down again.

Despite all of that, it's somehow the heels that stick out.

'Do you mind?' Tottering towards him, you take three measured steps crossing ankle over ankle before coming to a stop directly in front of Kirishima. 'I can't -.'

Kirishima nods before he really knows what he's agreeing too and gets the broad flat of your foot almost square against the crease of his thigh for his trouble. The pressure, as gentle as it is, has his cock stirring in seconds as he reaches for your ankle on reflex.

'I can never get them tight enough and I don't want to feel like I'm going to slip out of them all night...' You complain, pouting.

It's the soft jut of your lower lip that seals his fate. Kirishima smiles, flashing the sharp edges of his teeth before attempting to steady himself as he reaches for the first of the straps.

His fingers are rough when they drag across your skin, but his touch is nothing but soft as he loops the strap and begins to fiddle with the clasp. Using a thumb to steady himself, he lets his knuckles brush against the roof of your foot before covering it with his palm as he finishes with the second strap.

'Thanks...'

Adam's apple bobbing, he chooses to ignore the fact that you use a little too much pressure when you pull back your foot. His cock twitches, almost fully swollen in the confine of his pants as he waits, patiently, head down for his next task.

This time, when you place down your foot, you do it harder, with purpose and a little closer to the undeniable swell in his pants.

To test a theory, you tell yourself.

A theory that is easily proven when you feel his cock kick against the sole of your shoe.

Kirishima blushes bright. Everything from the tips of his cheekbones, to the slither of pec visible between the low cut of his shirt burns.

It makes you wonder just how low the colour travels. 'Oh...'

'I... Uh...' With shaking hands, Kirishima sets about clasping the next strap. In his vein's, his blood thrums, heart beating almost out of his chest as he waits of your next move. He wonders if you'll call him out, label him a pervert and kick him out of your apartment, but all doubt is clearly forced from his mind when he feels you shift.

Pressing your shoe firmly over his cock, you press down and rock forward earning yourself a moan that vibrates through his chest. 'You like that?'

There's a wet spot on his pants now, he can feel it. The seam rubs at his cock, chafing slightly as he tries and fails to stop his hips from rolling.

Something heavy crawls into your voice as you watch him squirm. Who would have thought, Kirishima Eijirou brought to his knees by a simple pair of heels.

'You do, don't you?' This time, when you press down a large hand wraps around your ankle, but he doesn't do anything to stop you. Instead, he tilts his chin to look at you, exposing the naked lust in his eyes and whines. Licking your lips, you press harder still. 'Go on then, I know you want to...'

Bucking up, he grinds against the sole of your shoe, revelling in the dull throb that comes with the stabbing of the heel at his crotch. He can't help himself. Pleasure builds in his stomach with each roll of his hips bringing with it a new bloom that has him close to cumming in his pants like a teenager. At either side of your ankle, his fingers loosen, twisting to wrap around the shoe itself as he feels his way along the sole of your foot.

'You really like that, don't you?' There's a darkness in your chuckle as you settle into the power you now hold.

His voice is gravelled when he answered, lost as he feels the telltale sign of his end nearing. 'Yeah, fuck... Fuck, I'm -.'

'Go on... Cum for me.' Pressing down exceptionally hard you watch as his whole body tremors. The muscle in his thighs and back tenses, the hand around your shoe tightening as he almost curls over on himself with the sheer force of the orgasm that tears through him.

It leaves him breathless, disoriented almost, as reality comes crashing down on him with a viscous intensity only rivalled by the orgasm still ebbing from his body. Swallowing, he looks up through his eyelashes at you and offers you a nervous smile. 'I – Fuck, I'm – I'm sorry, I -.'

You shake your head, blinking as you try and focus past the steady pulse of your cunt. Slowly slipping your foot off of his lap, you slink closer until you can straddle his hips. He's broad, forcing you to stretch your thighs wide enough that your cunt presses flush to his already re-stiffening cock. Linking your hands behind his neck, you play with the strands of red there as you press your nose to his and whisper into the air between you. 'How about round two?'

Kirishima's eyes blow wide before he pulls you in with a strong hand wrapping your jaw. The kiss is hungry, full of soft nicks and the flick of his tongue against the seam of your lips. Pulling away, he licks across his teeth, tasting you before growling: 'The heels stay on.'

-> Masterlist

#kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader smut #my hero academia smut #saturnsorbits #saturnscribbles

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scorpioriesling · 8 months ago

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Random Tropes HC (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand / Azriel / Cassian x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok talking about book tropes, and ranking your favorite to least favorite... so this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of this post -- enjoy! Part 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand - "Slow Burn" / "Forbidden Love"

Only he would get involved in something very dangerous, for both you and him

But, he wouldn't care. He had to have you

In this version, you'd be Tamlin's sister, and he knew how dangerous it would be to be with you

At first, you hated him (as your brother taught you) but... over time you realized how shitty your brother was and you started falling for the High Lord of the Night Court

But, like Tamlin, your stubbornness would get in the way

"Keep playing pretend all you want, princess," Gods you hated when he would see right through the walls you tried to put up. "I know it's me you think of when you're alone at night."

When you finally drop the act, Rhysand is... oh boy

"You really like making me wait, don't you?" He would say, breath hot on you ear while he ran his fingers down your arms from behind.

You couldn't even begin to explain how hard it's been to hold out, to pretend you still hate hijm even though you haven't for quite a while.

"Shhh..." He would brush a strand of hair from your face, lips grazing your jawline. "No need to explain anything. I quite enjoy looking at what's going on in that pretty little head of yours myself."

Every time, you feel like you'll fully give in...

Rhysand doesn't mind the chase.

"You know what I want..." he would say. He would always wait until you were alone together, not wanting to cause anything with his enemy.

"... when the time is right." You finish. He would start staying overnight with you, his fingers tracing up and down your thigh but never going much further.

That alone and his eyes gazing into yours as he laid with you... that could turn you to mush.

The soft kisses he'd leave on your cheekbones, toying with the tendrils of your hair...

All for it to end in the morning, him pressing a kiss to your forehead before winnowing back to the Night Court without a trace.

Cassian - "Fake Dating"

Rhysand had not only given his brother the title of War General, but had also supplied him with a second in command.

You'd been taking training lessons from Cassian in a group setting. He tried really hard to keep his attention to other participants fair, but... something about you really stuck out to him.

Maybe it was the way your braid swung when you executed a move he'd only just taught the class; maybe it was the way your leggings hugged the curve of your ass, accentuated when he would have you practice punches and kicks with the punching bag...

It wasn't just your beauty. You were smart, witty, cunning... but also a very skilled fighter.

Cassian wasn't the only one to notice either.

"As the newly appointed second in command," Rhysand said, hands folded on his desk before him. You stood next to Cassian in Rhys' office. "You will be joining Cassian on his excursions from now on." Your eyed widened, and you elbowed the gorgeous male to your right.

"He can't defend himself all alone?" You say, a smirk pulling your lips. Cassian rolls his eyes, but Rhys just stares between the two of you, grinning smugly.

"Something like that."

You got along suprisingly well with the Lord of Bloodshed; he asked for your thoughts, took your advice, and leaned on you for support when you ventured to the Continent together. You'd become... dare you say it... friends.

"Oh come on, everyone's going!" Cassian threw his hands up, still standing in your doorway. You shrugged at him.

"Yeah, but... I don't really know anyone. Besides Rhys, I mean. Even then, he is kind of my boss, so..." You say, folding clothes and putting them in drawers. Cassian plops down on your bed, and when you return for the next stack, he's looking up at you with pleading hazel eyes.

"You don't have anything else tonight, right?" He asks, grabbing a hand in yours. Cassian was very touchy, and though usually you weren't, it was something you decided to let slide.

"I mean... no..."

"Its settled. You're coming with me! I'll even fly us there, so you can wear whatever shoes you want. Don't worry about the walk." He winked and walked out, so... nonchalantly. Like he didn't just reduce you to a pile of putty with his sweet notion.

It wouldn't have mattered if you wore a potato sack, Cassian would have still stared -- but you chose a tiny black dress, and glittering silver heels instead.

His eyes roamed over you when he came to pick you up, and a small chuckle fell from his lips.

"W-wow, Y/N, you look...." He doesn't finish his sentence. You roll your eyes and blush.

"Different than usual?" You supply. He gulps and nods his head, offerring you a hand. You take it, and walk to the front patio of the House of Wind.

"Hold onto me, okay?" He says. You look into his eyes, and he grins at you. "If you get scared, tell me and I'll return us to the ground.

You snort. "Oh please, Cass, do I look like I'm afraid of anyTHING-"

In seconds, his arm has wrapped under your thighs, the other holding you close around your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face into his chest. His teakwood scent invades your nose, and you relax a little knowing this is right where you've wanted to be for months.

When you get to Rita's -- you find that you are easily the main attraction. Not only of the Inner Circle, but the place itself. Morrigan is talking your ear off, you politely spoke to Azriel, and even Rhysand has forgone his usual formal appearance.

But, like I said... others in the bar have noticed you too.

"Heyyy baby," a man's hand braces your lower back as you stand at the bar, waiting on the two drinks you offerred to get for your new friend Mor and yourself. You turn, a look of disgust on your face.

"Eew, don't touch me." You say. He only snickers, sliding onto the seat next to you.

"Let me buy you a drink." He says. His eyes are glazed over, and you continue to stare in pure distaste.

"No thanks." You clip. He huffs a laugh and leans closer to you.

"Why not, pretty girl? I don't see anyone else up here takin' care of you." Your face heats. He isn't going to leave you alone. You look over your shoulder, hoping to spot Cassian, Morrigan, Hell, even Rhysand. But you can't see anyone.

You angrily turn back to the loser next to you. "I'll have you know, I could totally kick your ass right now if I wanted to." You sneer. He laughs out loud, scooting closer and putting a hand on your leg. You gasp. "And-"

"And what, doll?" He drawls. You fumble for words, any excuse to get this creep to leave you alone.

"And... uh... and-"

"She has a boyfriend."

You turn, feeling Cassian's large hands bracing your shoulders. You let out a sigh of relief, and shoot him a Thank the Cauldron look.

"Oh... oh Gods uh I am so sorry-" The idiot fumbles, scrambling back and out of his chair.

"Save it. Don't touch her again." Cassian glares, and the guy shoos away. When he is finally out of earshot, you turn and take Cassian's hands in yours.

"Cass, oh Gods thank you..." you say. He gives you a strained smile, eyes flicking between yours and to where your hands now held his.

"It's no problem." He said. You turned, facing the bar as two drinks were slid across it to you. Cassian grabbed them both, and followed you to the booth where his friends sat. He sat one in front of Mor, and took a sip from your straw before handing yours to you.

"Heyyy," you said. He only grinned at you, allowing you to slide into the seat before him. Rhys looked at you with a smirk, and you didn't think to hard what he was getting at because the conversations started up again. Within minutes, Cassian rested his cheek on the side of your head, arm wrapped around your waist, tracing tiny circles on your bare thigh. You sucked in a breath when you caught onto what he was doing.

"Cassie, what are you..." His hand stopped to rest on your hip, and he peered down at you.

"Dance with me?" He asked. You simply nodded, following his to the dance floor where upbeat music played. You faced him, and he once again took your hands in his, swaying with you to the beat. When a more sensual song came on, he moved your hands to his chest, and replaced his on your hips, pulling you impossibly close. With each movement, you felt your heart explode a little more; you knew you cared for him more than usual friends do. But pretending to date would only hurt in the end; you enjoyed this way too much.

"Cass, I.." You started. His left hand moved to rest atop your butt, and your breath caught in your throat. He leaned down to talk over the loud music.

"You... what, Y/N?" Ughhh. Your name sounded so good on his lips.

"I, uh... that guy. He isn't here anymore, so. We can stop pretending." You gazed up at him, his hazel eyes dark and focused on your lips.

"And what if I'm not pretending?"

Azriel - "Enemies to Lovers"

Ohhh he would want you from the get go.

In this version, you'd be Eris's full sister, and Lucien's half sibling.

"What's she doing here?" He would ask when Eris brought you with him to the meeting he was to attend with the Inner Circle.

"Trust me, I didn't want to. Beron made for her to come with me." Eris would say, not missing the glare Azriel pointed at you. You only returned the sentiment.

"What's it to you?" You asked. Azriel folded his arms across his chest, his biceps bulging from the tight black tee he wore. You couldn't help but let your eyes linger for a moment, before returning to his face when he spoke again.

"Whatever. I just don't want any other liabilities." You scoffed, beelining for the door to the meeting hall where the rest of the Inner Circle waited. Your shoulder clocked Azriel as you passed, and Eris chuckled.

"Maybe I brought her for some entertainment," he whispered lowly, following you into the meeting room. Azriel said nothing else as he trailed in last, pulling the door closed behind him.

"So whatever did you need to talk about?" Eris says, taking the seat across from Rhysand. Of course he would, leaving the last two empty chairs across from one another for you and Azriel.

"You know why I've called you here." Rhysand purrs. They begin their conversation, and you feel a tiny tickle around your wrist. You look down and see a slim, black tendril of a shadow. When you peer down at it, it seems to seize its movements. You give a small smile, and it continues its dance around your fingers.

"What has your sister said about this arrangement?" Rhys asks, making you look up. Your cheeks heat as all eyes are now on you. What was the question?

"I uh, I think whatever needs to be done is up to the better judgement of my father," you say. Rhysand's eyebrows rise, and Eris glances sidelong at you, giving you a silent confirmation. You're glad you answered somewhat correctly.

Glancing across the table, Azriel is still staring daggers into you. You shoot him a small snarl, and remember the smoky tendril winding around your knuckles. A devilish smirk takes over your lips.

You flutter your fingers, and the shadow follows your command, returning to Azriel. It drifts up his exposed forearm, and slips under his shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing around and swallowing.

"It's settled then. Y/N will reside here for the time being-"

"Wait, what?" You say, realizing you've spoken in unison. Azriel is squirming in his chair, shadow still tickling him as he looks at Rhys with pleading eyes.

"Why would she need to be here?" He asks lowly. You snarl at him, crossing your arms.

"Its obviously not my first choice either, bat." You say. This time he glares back at you. "Don't worry; I won't have anything to do with you while I'm here." You finish, nose upturned as you fix your gaze on your brother beside you again. He leans over and gives your knee a squeeze, pride showing in his face.

"It's settled then." He stands, and you do the same. Eris and Rhys shake hands, and he makes to walk out the door. You trail behind him, as you hear Azriel pleading and begging Rhysand to make you go home.

"She is staying, Azriel. I've already made up my mind. This is the next best move we could make." He explains and Azriel shoves his chair in, the legs scraping on the floor. Pathetic.

"Listen, if anything happens to you here, you just give me a shout, okay? I'll come get you-" You wrap your arms around your big brother. He sighs and returns the hug. You peer over his shoulder and catch Azriel staring at you from the doorway. You snicker.

"I will be just fine, I promise." He nods, placing a hand on your arm one last time before making to leave. The rest of the members have already cleared out, leaving just you and Azriel.

He doesn't wait to pounce on you once your brother is out of earshot, but you know better. You've known better for years; Azriel is always so tempermental. So... ugh, annoying. So, hot.

"Save it Az - you cant't get rid..." You're cut off by his hand gripping your elbow, falling into darkness as he winnows you both. When you open your eyes, you realize you're in a bedroom. A big one, with cream colored drapes and sheets on the bed. You barely take in the scene around you before your hands are pinned above your head against the back of the closed bedroom door.

"Azriel." You say, tone low and menacing. He glares down at you, leaning in towards your face.

"What the hell was that?" He seethes. Your brow raises in question.

"What are you-" You breath is coming in short pants. The scent of sage and sea salt rolls off him, gently caressing your senses as you try to focus on what he asked you. You're a bit distracted, you'll admit. This golden flecked eyes, staring intensely at you. The light dusting of freckles across his sun-kissed nose. His lips that are so close to yours...

"Manipulating my own shadows. Trying to distract me duirng the meeting? What the hell was that?" He breathes. You let a small smile grace your lips. His pull back as he bares his teeth at you, and you chuckle.

"Aww, Az, it's nice to see you still brush every morning -- maybe if you smiled more-" He surges forward, crashing his lips onto yours. Your eyes blow wide in shock, his free hand grasping your hip bone and pulling you close to him. His lips feast on you hungrily, biting your lower lip as his tongue dances with yours, battling for dominance. You can't help but let out a low groan, and his grip on your wrists loosens. When he finally pulls back, gasping for air, you grin mischeviously at him.

Gotcha. Right where I wanted you.

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onyourowndaisymae · 2 years ago

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obey me characters hands hcs (demon brothers, dateables, + side characters)

college has whooped my ass but your girl has officially graduated with two degrees!! finally!! hopefully i will be able to get out more writing soon. i think i am also going to tweak my request rules in the coming days to make writing easier on myself and my schedule, so expect that soon. anyways enjoy these random headcanons that came to mind one night out of nowhere

content warnings: none

Lucifer

lucifer is usually wearing gloves, so you rarely get to see or feel his hands. so when you do, it's a treat.

his hands are cold, but not unbearably so. they perpetually feel like he's been out in the cold just a few minutes too long. when he touches your bare skin, it makes you jump-- but keep them close for a few minutes and you'll chase the cold away completely.

his hands are soft. probably not super surprising considering he's always wearing gloves, but it's still pleasant.

he's got big ass, strong hands. they may be soft, but that doesn't mean they're weak. lucifer is the type of person that could open a jar for you with such ease that he'd almost look disappointed in your weak little human arms. if he's in a good mood, he might tease you about it.

he's pretty pale, so you can see the color of his veins under his skin. he's also got just a few prominent veins-- nothing excessive, but just enough to hit that sweet spot between too much and not enough.

his nails are always pristine. he's the avatar of pride. do you think he'd willingly walk around with chipped nail polish? if something somehow happens, they will be redone by the next day, almost like they'd never chipped in the first place. either he'll call asmo over to fix them, or fix them himself, depending on how much time he has.

Mammon

mammon has pleasantly warm hands. sometimes they get a little sweaty, but it's not much of a problem honestly. he's like a nice little heating pack on a winter day. because his hands are warm, though, yours usually feel cold to him... and he will complain. it's mammon.

his hands are also pretty soft. gotta look nice, y'know? i can see him keeping lotion (and chapstick-- not relevant here but it's worth a mention regardless) on his person pretty often. this came about bc he got tired of the lotion he borrowed from asmo smelling all perfume-y getting him odd looks.

this man is always wearing at least one ring and you cannot convince me otherwise. i can see him wearing a lot of matching gold ring sets. they just look like they belong on him, y'know?

i think he's got a few subtle veins across his hands. he knows that people like that, so i think he's pretty proud of his hands. he even takes care to avoid chipping or otherwise messing up his nails so the whole look will stay cohesive.

Leviathan

oh you know this man's hands are clammy as fuck. sorry bud. facts are facts.

he's blessed with very pretty hands. his nails just grow in a pretty shape (and asmo makes sure to keep them that way), his fingers are slender and proportional, his hands are a normal size, and his skin stays pretty moisturized, even in harsh weather. he doesn't have to try. which is good, because we all know he wouldn't.

i think levi actually hates the feeling of rings and hand jewelry. he'd fidget with it too much and eventually become so aware of it that he'd need to take it off before he goes crazy. if he gets married and wears a traditional wedding ring, it would have to fit perfectly and be very comfortable for him to eventually get used to it.

levi picks at the pads of his fingers a lot when he's anxious, but he's not super prone to scaring there, so it isn't super noticeable. he'll go through bursts of trying to break this habit where he covers his poor hands in vaseline, but nothing even quite breaks him of it.

Satan

satan has hands crafted by god specifically to play piano and look nice holding books. look at him. there's no way he'd have ugly hands. they're soft and pretty, but i think he has to put more effort than expected into maintaining them.

he's another one that i think would be anti-ring for much of the same reason as levi. i think it would just feel odd on his fingers and he'd get irritated by their presence. he's okay wearing bracelets though.

his hands, slender and pretty as they remain, are also quite strong. he's the avatar of wrath, after all. he's probably the second or third best to go to when you need a tough jar opened.

his nails and cuticles always look presentable, but i think he finds grooming them unpleasant. he lets asmo do it for him-- the younger one's chattering distracts him from the irritating feeling of pushed back cuticles and trimmed hangnails. his hands aren't naturally soft, either, but asmo has developed a routine for him so they stay nice with a bit of regular (secret) effort. satan's all about seeming effortlessly perfect, after all, and his hands are no exception.

Asmo

softest hands in the entire cast. simeon and mephistopheles are good competitors, but this is not a battle he will lose.

his nails are always perfectly manicured and soft. he's got a million different lotions scatter across his room, the HoL, RAD, etc., all to make sure he never encounters even a hint of dry skin. he's got emergency nail polish, too, just incase a nail were to chip while he's out and about.

asmo reaches a lot for daintier, tasteful jewelry. think small rings, delicate bracelets, pretty gemstones, the works. he's very particular about matching the jewelry both to his outfit AND his nails.

he doesn't have any visible veins, so his hands seem inhumanly perfect at times. he likes this. compliment his hands and he'll swoon-- not that he cares more about them than the rest of his body, but because it shows you notice the smaller details he puts effort into, and he appreciates it.

Beel

big boy's got big ass hands. even if you're grown yourself, putting your palms against his will make you feel like a kid again. he could palm a basketball like shaq.

he's got his fair share of callouses. i think he mostly leaves them alone because they serve the purpose of improving his grip, which is nice for the gym or fangol. asmo probably gets on him for it, but beel doesn't care enough to do something about it. i can also see him having quite a few prominent veins on both hands.

his hands fluctuate in temperature a LOT. it's pretty unpredictable, too. you can touch his hand and find it scorching hot, then touch it again ten minutes later to find it eerily lukewarm. nobody knows why this happens.

beel has to be very conscious of his hygiene, or his hands will get really dirty in a matter of minutes. he's constantly eating and touching things, so he needs to either be careful or have a napkin on hand. i think lucifer carries hand sanitizer for this exact reason (although he won't admit it).

Belphegor

belphegor's hands are upsettingly lukewarm. it's like touching things or inclimate weather has no effect on him. they're always lazily warm, like a glass of water sitting out in the sun.

his hands stay soft mainly because he doesn't do much with them. he is, however, prone to hangnails. he's lazily bite them off and accidentally cause more in the process-- not that he particularly cares.

he leaves nail and hand maintenance in asmo's hands. he'll let the fifth born do anything to them so long as he gets to sleep through it.

not anti-jewelry/rings per se, but doesn't care enough about it to a) put any on, or b) make sure he doesn't lose whatever he's wearing that day. if it somehow falls off, the most you're getting from him is a quick look around, unless the piece was really meaningful and/or borrowed.

Diavolo

is anyone surprised to hear that diavolo has massive, strong hands? no? didn't think so.

he's got really thick fingers, too. you feel like a toddler comparing hand sizes with him. he's just a mountain of a man.

his hands are always hot but never sweaty. it's comforting most of the times, but if you're already hot his touch is like fire. dawg. don't touch me. i'm sweating. his entire body is like this, too.

his nails are always very particularly manicured (it's an image thing) and fairly soft. he cares enough to use lotion but not enough to carry it. he's not one to be super vain in that regard.

there's a tasteful amount of veinage on this prince's hands. enough to be attractive, but not enough to make him seen overworked or to age him.

Barbatos

definitively the coldest fucking hands in the entire cast. barbatos' hands are cold enough to wake the dead with just a touch.

his hands are always covered by gloves as well, so they're not as rough as you'd expect. still, though, the butler is always keeping his hands busy, so i imagine there are still some minor calluses across his hands. nothing enough to be super noticable, but still there.

he's got long, slender fingers. very regal. his hands themselves are average sized. compared to someone like diavolo, though, they're dainty.

his hands are also very pale, but for some reason you can't spot a single vein. it's odd. you can see the tendons and bones shift when he moves so you know his hands are built like normal... but something about the veins just seems so odd. mammon tricked luke into thinking barbatos doesn't have any blood, so that's why no one can see his veins. this is wrong, but luke is too polite to ask about it. (the real explanation is that, although he's pale, he's got pretty thick skin-- demon perks-- so you don't really see much below it).

Simeon

simeon's hands are pleasantly warm at all times. you can feel the heat through his gloves. it's just a very comforting thing-- he'll hold your hand anytime you ask, so don't be afraid to ask if you're a little chilly or in need of some reassurance.

when he takes the gloves off, his hands are silky smooth. did you expect anything different? i can see him being very methodical abut hygiene in general, and in this case i think he's always using a nice lotion on his hands before he puts his gloves on for the day. when they come off, his hands are soft and sweet-smelling-- like cocoa butter and vanilla.

he doesn't paint his nails or anything, but they always look very nice. his liberal use of lotion pairs well with his other grooming habits. his cuticles are never overgrown, his nails are always short and uniform, and his nail beds are healthy and clear. it's minor, but it just adds to the overwhelming perfection that simeon exudes.

Solomon

solomon's hands are somehow both clammy AND cold. pick a struggle, peepaw.

on the plus side, his hands are soft. even in the winter, solomon never has to worry about rough knuckles or dry skin. which is good, because you cannot convince me that this man would remember to regularly apply lotion. he's a menace.

his hands are pale, like the rest of them, but also more veiny than i think most would anticipate. he's got one prominent one heading to his ring finger, and the rest are a bit smaller but still noticeable. his pale skin allows you to see the blue of his veins underneath. they're interesting to just stare at at watch move when he flexes his fingers.

i can see him wearing a ring or two on occasion. i don't think he'd care a whole lot about the aesthetics, but i think he'd put in enough effort to wear gold when his outfit has gold and switch to silver when wearing outfits with silver in them. it's a small thing, but it lets your know he's putting in at least a little thought.

Luke

luke has got such little, cute hands. his fingers are small and a little stubby, just like his nails. his nails also grow slowly, too, so he doesn't have to do much to keep them presentable.

unfortunately, they're often a little sticky. he bakes a lot, and while he's not usually dirty or messy, he's still young and somehow just attracts stickiness like any other child. it's especially bad when he uses honey in his recipes-- his hands are perpetually sticky for like two or three days after, no matter how often he washes his hands.

luke is a nervous little child, and for that i could see him being someone that picks at his cuticles. simeon gently discourages this habit, but at the end of the day he can't do much but make sure they heal properly.

BONUS:

Thirteen

she gives barbatos a run for his money in the cold hand competition. her fingers are ice. unlike barbatos, she will use this to her advantage. you'll find her frigid fingers on the back of your neck or under the hem of your shirt when you least expect it. she doesn't have any reason to do this. she just thinks it's funny.

her hands are a little dry, mainly around the knuckles. she strikes me as someone that constantly rubs her dry hands together and bitches about needing lotion, while simultaneously never remembering her own. she probably bums a dab of lotion off of someone ever day (i'm thinking asmo).

her nails are always really nice. they're just naturally shaped really well, round at the top and pretty straight. they're strong and don't break easy, which is good, because a hangnail can throw off her concentration for an entire afternoon.

Raphael

like belphegor, raphael's hands are an upsetting temperature-- no matter how warm or cold your hands are, his feel lukewarm against yours. it should literally be impossible, but then again, a lot of things you've encountered in the devildom should be impossible.

he's got some calluses. they're pretty interesting, honestly-- if he was a human, he'd have the bumpy, dry hands of a weathered veteran or lonely woodworker, all rough skin and long years embedded into his flesh. but he's an angel. the calluses on his hands are small and fairly easy to miss if you don't touch him. but run your hand along the ridges of his fingers or the fatty parts of his palms and you'll find them just fine.

raphael has really pretty nail beds. something about the way they look is just so clean and nice. he never has overgrown cuticles or anything, either. just really nice hands for a man that does not spare a single thought to the way they look.

Mephistopheles

this man has hands like butter. they're just so soft and luxurious. you think they'd be a bit more rugged seeing as he's a rich boy with a penchant for horseback riding, but no. i can see him being very anal about his hands. they're always soft with not a callous or imperfection in sight.

speaking of perfect, this motherfucker has amazing nails. they're just a tad longer than you'd expect to be traditionally "masculine", but that just enhances how slender and pretty his fingers look. no wonder he's always pointing and gesturing so dramatically-- he's gotta show off all that hard work!

pretty boy here just has really nice, strong hands. not really veiny, but very smooth and even. his palms are a bit lighter than his skintone, naturally, but across the board there's no discoloration or scarring to be seen. you can tell he's a noble just by looking at his hands.

he's usually in those gloves but, if not, i could see him being a rings kinda guy. only tasteful ones, though, and in moderation. not like mammon.

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jhoneybees · 5 months ago

Note

70s smut 🙏🏼

Ooo 70s smut! Now I got two requests for this so hopefully this will be alright for both of them, thank you for requesting :)

Honestly, might be my new favourite fic that I have written🥺

Soulmates.

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X Reader

Warnings/triggers: Third person pov, use of Y/n, Smut hehehe, fingering, p in v, size kink, swearing(one word), mentions of God and heaven, sweet love making *sniff*🥺, fairy tale beliefs(No one can change my mind, I believe in them☝️)

Tags: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a (if you want to be added to my taglist for my fics, feel free to comment!)

Enjoy my lovelies!

_____________________________________________

Elvis just feels so lonely.

Lonely and tired of doing two shows every damn day of the week, lonely and sad from the aches and pains he has all over his body and lonely of not having someone that has a similar heart like his.

He wishes that he could have someone to hold him and love him for who he is.

He wishes to maybe meet his soulmate…if they are real, he thinks to himself.

_____________________________________________

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Glancing up from the bible in his hand, Elvis stares at the front door of his hotel suite.

Closing his eyes as he sighs, he tosses the bed covers aside. Grunting as he stands himself up by using the nightstand for balance he makes his way to the door. Swinging it open with a bit of force, he groans seeing Jerry and Charlie. “What do ya want?” he asks rudely whilst bringing a hand up to rub his face.

“We brought someone, Boss.” Jerry answers with a nervous look on his face.

Elvis groans again and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?” his tone, low.

Charlie opens his mouth. “Well we’ve noticed you’ve been-”

“Get to the point.”

“Because we’re worried, Boss.” Jerry cuts in.

The thing is about Jerry and Charlie bringing someone to Elvis, they are both genuinely worried about him, he isn’t just their boss but their friend and not only did they find a random person but a young woman who’s been a fan of his ever since his ‘GI Blues’ days. They know that he feels the most comfortable around women because of their soothing nature but something about this girl they’ve met, they think she’s the perfect match for someone like Elvis.

Elvis lifts his head and looks between the two men, staying quiet with only a slight huff.

“You’re not yourself.” Jerry finishes making Elvis keep his stare on him.

“Where are they?” he asks with a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

Watching as both Jerry and Charlie step to one side, Elvis blinks surprised seeing a pretty girl step forward giving him a shy smile.

“Boss, this is Y/n, Y/n this is Elvis.” Jerry smiles.

“Hi…”

“...Hi” he shakes her hand, hearing the slightest gasp leave her lips and his heart skipping a beat.

“You two have fun.” Charlie says before following Jerry down the hallway, leaving the two alone.

His eyes scan her up and down, slowly. Watching her as she turns her head back to look at him.

Elvis doesn’t know what it is about her but she’s fascinating him.

“...Wanna come in?”

_____________________________________________

Courteously, Y/n sits herself down on his couch. She quietly looks up at him as he switches the room’s light on and walks out for a while before coming back with sunglasses on, giving her a small smile.

Making his way over to sit down near her with a soft grunt.

“They’re worried ‘bout me, huh?” He jokes and chuckles about the men who brought her up to his suite, earning a sweet laugh.

“So uh…yer from Vegas?” he asks after a bit of silence fills the room, absentmindedly wiping his finger under his nose and looking over at the woman. Getting a glimpse of her cheeks growing pink.

“No…” She breathes out with a quiet laugh and fidgets with the hem of her skirt.

“I-I’m from Memphis, just…um… staying here to see some of your shows…” Her words trailing off to almost a whisper.

“You’re a fan?” his voice, surprisingly soft.

She lifts her gaze and nods shyly. “U-Uh big fan.”

Her heart skips a beat at his soft laugh. “Well ‘s nice ta finally meet ya.”

He smiles and she smiles back.

“How long have ya been a fan for?” he asks, to which she shakes her head.

“Oh, ever since GI blues came out…” looking back down at her lap with a shy grin, oblivious to Elvis’ eyes trailing up her legs.

“Do ya…have a favourite song?”

“Don’t really have a favourite…I-I like them all…I enjoy the country, bluesy sort of songs the most...”

Y/n purses her lips and she looks over at Elvis, seeing him nod. “I like ‘em too, my favourite kind of songs.”

The more they talk, the more deep the conversation gets. The two of them don’t know how but they just click straight away and it seems like cupid has shot two arrows into both of their hearts.

The way her eyes soften at Elvis’ smile and the way Elvis’ mouth grows dry from her angelic laugh would show everyone in the whole of Las Vegas that they’ve already fallen deeply in love. It couldn’t possibly be attraction at this point because they have shared their life stories and struggles with each other.

The woman had only met Elvis 4 hours ago.

“C’mere baby, want ya near.” Elvis says and the girl happily obliges.

Quietly shuffling to where he sits, she slides right in next to him as he holds his arm over the back of the couch. She lifts her eyes to look at him, seeing how gorgeous he is up close, with the way his pores decorate his face so beautifully and his cute nose being the perfect shape to bring all his facial features together, her heart beats wickedly at the thought of how soft his lips would feel against hers.

“Somethin’ on my face?” he asks with a chuckle.

Y/n looks into his blue eyes through his sunglasses, her cheeks growing pinker as she nervously laughs. “N-not at all, jus’...”

He removes his shades.

She doesn't know what to say when he’s admiring her like that, with his lashes framing his sultry eyes as they admire her face lovingly and the corner of his mouth curls up.

It’s as if he’s an archaeologist who’s discovered the most dazzling thing he has ever seen in his life.

“...E-Elvis” her voice, soft.

He lifts his gaze and when he locks eyes with her, they both feel their souls are drifting out from one’s parted lips into the other.

They’re so close, combined scents of floral and luxury fill their nostrils. The both of them watch each other’s eyes carefully.

“Y/n…can I…kiss you?”

Just then as the woman gives her consent, they melt at the slightest touch, lips pressing so gently against each other like they’re afraid to hurt the other person. They both close their eyes and Elvis leans himself forward with his other hand moving to rest on the side of her waist with Y/n automatically climbing to straddle his lap.

Cupping his face with her delicate hands, warm tingles shiver up her spine and as Elvis pushes his tongue inside of her mouth, she pushes herself more onto him, wanting to feel every single little touch and she melts even more from his large, firm hands grazing up her thighs going under her minidress. Her breath grows shaky and shallow as he squeezes her ass through her panties.

“Elvis…” She whispers as he pulls away, moving her hands down to rub his chest, the nice silk material under her palms.

“Let’s…Let’s go ta m-my bedroom.” he breathes and she nods willingly.

Pulling on his hand to help him stand up, Y/n’s quick to grab his sunglasses he left discarded on the couch next to him, earning a gentle smile from him. “Thank you, baby.” She smiles back, walking with him through the archway to go into his bedroom, She watches as he switches the light on on the wall.

Her heart pounds in her chest as he pulls her in by the waist and crashes his lips onto hers again with more passion. Sighing contentedly as her arms go to wrap around his neck, following his steps until the back of her calves hit the foot of the bed and she falls backwards, taking Elvis with her making him grunt loudly at the impact and the girl winces at his sunglasses hitting her nose.

“Oh I-I’m sorry, honey.” Elvis worryingly cups her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head and her chest vibrates against his as she laughs. “It’s okay.”

Her hand moves to slide his sunglasses off. “Better if we get these out of the way.” she giggles and pecks his lips. Her smile falters a little when he grimaces and the realisation hits. “O-Oh you want the light turned off, don’t you?”

“No-no ‘s a’right, hon-”

“It’s okay, we can turn it off, I don’t mind.” She reassures quietly and smiles again as his eyes soften and he rolls off from on top of her body.

Y/n pads back to the bed after turning the lights off and steps out of her heels as she looks over the man’s figure, he’s moved to rest his back against the headboard with only the nightlife of Las Vegas shining through the window showing his face. A face that has guilt written all over.

She waltzes over to crawl onto the mattress and sit on his lap again. She doesn't know how she knows what he’s thinking but she just does. “Wouldn’t want ya getting sore eyes…” observing his facial expression carefully.

“Thank you…” he mumbles gently, she can’t help but beam at his sudden gentle demeanour.

“You’re welcome… " Her fingers going up to caress his cheek, a strange urge overcomes her as both of their lips are a few millimetres away. Something she feels like she needs to say. “...It’s the least I can do to…ease the pain.” before she envelops Elvis’ lips in a delicate kiss.

This time it’s his turn to melt.

Elvis moans into her mouth, she starts to roll her hips over his strained pyjama pants and his eyebrows furrow at the mind spinning feeling of her clothed sex rubbing against his and she grazes her fingers up to unbutton his shirt.

He pulls away and breathes hard, careful to stop her hands. “H-Honey…” A wave of insecurity flowing through his brain.

The woman observes his eyes and leans in to kiss him and brush the tips of her fingers over his chest hair. “I know…” She continues to finish undoing his shirt.

Kissing his ear and cheek. “You’re gorgeous.”

Her heart feels like it’s as light as a feather as her hand runs through his soft hair, she sighs through her nose as her lips press onto his once again, body moving from instinct when his palms glide back to her ass. Squeezing it so gently that it sends chills to her pussy, making it throb.

Elvis’ groan rumbles in his throat, sliding his large hand down as she lifts her hips to press her mouth more onto his, his head tips back at the position and he can feel the warmth coming from the place in between her legs.

Hooking his index into her panties and pulling it to the side, he uses his middle finger to drag up her wet slit, smirking against her hearing a soft moan.

His cock twitches at how she mewls from him touching her sensitive clit. He’s massaging it and taking control of her body, her hips rock against his palm.

“God, Elvis…” She lets out, gasping at how his skilled hand slides down to her dripping heat. Her eyes fluttering at his finger swirls around the entrance like a predator circles their prey.

She breathes out a brief smile at his words. “Seems like I know all the tricks, hm?”

A breathy moan rolls off her tongue as he pushes his middle finger inside, pumping it in and out at a steady slow pace. “Ta make ya come undone, so easily.” his voice, deep and raspy. She doesn’t know how he does it so effortlessly. Bringing all these noises she didn’t know she could make out of her from just using one finger.

“Please…” Y/n whispers. She's got no idea why She’s saying please, her mind is so overwhelmed by how he curls his finger, rubbing it against the ridges of her walls.

It’s making her have such an awakening experience and it’s not her first but her gut is telling her this time is different. Very different.

“So wet…” he growls, placing a kiss on her throat as she throws her head back.

“So tight.” dragging his finger out and along her bundle of nerves, he rubs big and slow circles on her hot button.

Lulling her head to look down at Elvis, seeing his eyes shine with passion. “Panties off f’me?”

She whimpers and nods obediently. Moving off of his lap to slip her panties off and toss them off the bed as she lays flat on her back with her legs spread, waiting as Elvis slides his pants off to reveal his hard, bouncing, weeping, red at the tip cock.

Her mouth waters at the thought of how good he would feel so deep inside of her.

“C-Can yer ‘elp, baby?” Elvis shyly asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. She helps him move to kneel between her legs.

“You’re so big…” she utters. Craning her neck up to look down in the middle of both of their bodies to see his dick swinging towards her pussy.

Elvis grins widely, trailing his eyes down her goddess looking figure. “And you’re so beautiful.” guiding the head of his cock to her hole, he inches himself in and the tightness already makes his eyes roll back.

“F*ck…” Y/n sighs.

He gets down onto his forearms, caging her frame underneath him protectively. Shivers slithering up his spine at the feeling of his belly pressing heavily on her stomach. Pushing more of himself inside little by little, groaning out loudly as her walls clench around him and her pornagraphic moans fill his ears.

Keeping his stare fixed onto Y/n’s pretty angelic face and a long breath squeezes out of his throat when he finally fits the rest of his cock in.

Suddenly something clicks.

“Elvis…I…”

“Y-You’re my soulmate.”

They stare into each other’s eyes, flicking from one to the other.

She cups Elvis’ cheeks gently, panting quietly as she thinks and admires his handsome face.

Ever since they were little, they didn’t think those fairy tales were real talking about how they would meet their soulmate one day and right at this moment, they have been proved wrong. So wrong.

“...H-hold on tight.”

Elvis starts to thrust into her slowly. Picking up pace as time goes by and every single second it feels like home, feels like they’re meant for each other.

They’ve found their true love, their love at first sight, their ride and die, their partner in crime, their goddamn soulmate and they have the strongest urge to say those three words that every couple says but something is telling them to keep going before they say it.

They grab onto one another, wanting to feel the closest they could possibly be and take in the sensations, the magic, the love, the truth as they fly up into the clouds. Sucking in an unknown magical essense that falls into the atmosphere and Elvis works the both of them closer and closer and closer and closer to heaven.

Crying out in unison. “I love you.”

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #i love him #70s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction

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hard-core-super-star · 5 months ago

Text

cross that line again [Y.Belova + K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x kate bishop; yelena belova x yelena belova

summary: kate calls yelena for help fixing the mess she created. things don't exactly go to plan and the russian is forced to face some uncomfortable truths about her desires.

warnings: SMUT -> minors do not interact [selfcest; porn with little plot; character exploration in the midst of spicy stuff; yelena seduces herself; face sitting/cunilingus; fingering; yelena's in a bit of a domme mood; bishova is more than implied; did not proofread this enough

wordcount: 5k

a/n: a second commission has hit the blog! (yes, this is a smosh reference, shut up-) i was absolutely captivated by this idea the first time around and this second part did not disappoint. i don't write for yelena very often so getting to explore her character like this was super interesting for me. i think that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy and thanks for the support <3

[buy me a coffee]

* * * * * * *

If two days ago you would have told Kate that she'd be waking up in the morning next to herself, she would have assumed you were playing a joke on her. Sure, she'd seen a lot of weird things ever since becoming an official Avenger but that was a bit much.

At least that's what she would have thought at any other time.

Today, though, the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was herself. Looking at her with a smile brighter than the sun coming in through the windows.

"Hey, you."

She was still getting used to hearing her voice come from somewhere that wasn't her own mouth. It was strange but she found herself getting more and more used to the familiarity hidden inside those pale blue eyes.

Sure, they were the same person and all but that didn't stop her thoughts from wandering whenever they looked at each other too long. It'd been so long since she'd felt like this for anyone and she'd be an idiot to ignore her desires.

"Morning, sunshine," she replied. "Sleep well?"

"Hell yes." Somehow, the smile on her face grew wider. "I feel reborn."

"I don't think that's because of the sleep, though." The smirk on her face made the double meaning in her words more than clear.

Her other self laughed, her hand coming up to playfully punch her shoulder. "Shut up, jerk."

"Jerk? That's not what you were calling me last night."

She was sure she'd never seen someone blush so hard so far. It was one of the most adorable things she had ever seen and she filed away the new discovery for later.

"Oh my god, shut up!"

"Make me." Her hands gripped the brunette's hips and she pulled her closer, laughing at the way she instantly tried to hide her flustered face in her neck.

"You're the worst."

She could hear the smile in her words and in turn, she snuck her hands under her shirt, drawing random shapes just to hear her gasp. "You're such a crybaby, Kate."

"Stop talking," she grumbled, getting her revenge by attaching her lips to a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

Kate let out a soft gasp of her own at the feeling and she took advantage of the moment to dig her nails into the brunette's skin.

They spent most of the morning like this, riling each other up until the teasing grew to be too much to bear and they ended up tangled in each other. Over and over and over again.

Guess they really did sleep better than they had in months considering how much energy they had.

It took a long time, and more than a few orgasms, before they were able to keep their hands to themselves long enough to get up from her bed. It took all her self-restraint to not follow past Kate into the bathroom after she announced she was going to shower. She really really wanted to but she held back in order to call Yelena and briefly update her on what had happened.

Needless to say, the Russian didn't believe a single word she said and accused Kate of taking one too many edibles. Instead of arguing more ("That was one time, 'Lena!"), she simply told the blonde to come over and help them figure out what to do next.

She did sort of leave out the part about her and her other self being…more than friendly with each other but they'd cross that bridge when they got there.

A bridge that got way too close way too fast.

It wasn't like she wanted Yelena to walk in on them in the middle of an unplanned make-out session. But of course, the Russian decided to let herself into the apartment, without making any noise because she's "far more talented than that", and caught them in quite a…compromising position.

In her defense, it was hard to concentrate on making breakfast for them when the other brunette was wrapping her arms around her and kissing her neck. They were lucky she did it before she turned the stove on.

That did mean she ended up getting turned around and pressed up against the fridge but she didn't really mind.

At least, until Yelena coughed loudly and broke them out of their lust-filled bubble.

"Shit!" They exclaimed as they broke apart, their faces wearing matching blushes.

"You…you were not lying." She was sure she'd never seen Yelena look so genuinely shocked before. "There are two of you."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Kate said with an affectionate eye roll. "Tell me something I don't know."

"First, you have to tell me how this happened."

The Kate's shared a quick glance, the softness in their eyes directed toward the blonde and the way certain phrases still flew over her head. It was incredibly endearing but they'd never tell her that (mainly because she would instantly kill them afterward).

Despite the incredibility of their situation, they told Yelena everything that happened. Well, almost everything. They told her about the witch coven and the weird spell and the time travel but not about their hookup. Maybe it was silly considering she'd seen them making out and all but they still decided against it.

It would have all been fine if the blonde hadn't noticed something while they were in the middle of planning their move against the coven.

"Bishop," she said, her eyes trained on the side of Kate's neck. "What is that?"

"What's what?" Kate responded as her hand instinctively came up to cover her neck like she was a teenager sneaking around her mom's back again.

One simple look from the blonde had her wishing she didn't try to hide the truth from her. Damn Yelena and her scary assassin glare.

"Do not play dumb with me." Her tone left no room for sarcastic responses or stupid jokes.

"It's a, uh…a hickey," she mumbled, her eyes shifting from Yelena to her alternate.

They shared a long look, although the other brunette looked far too amused for her liking, and completely missed the shock that covered the Russian's face. Shock that was mixed with a bit of curiosity…and a lot of confusion.

"How does that even work?"

Past Kate jumped at the opportunity to answer far too quick for her to stop her from talking. "Well, when two people like each other very much-"

"Shut up!" She smacked the other brunette's shoulder right as she erupted into laughter. Of course, only she could find embarrassing her funny.

Yelena let out a long sigh at their antics. "That is not what I meant, Kate Bishop."

The disappointment in her voice made Kate laugh too and it helped reassure her that at the very least, she didn't think there was something wrong with them for being with each other in such an intimate way.

She most certainly thought it was weird but she couldn't blame her for that when even they thought it was weird. But good. Very good considering the way past Kate moaned their name all night.

It was incredibly hard for both of them to focus after that, especially since they could now be as affectionate as they wanted without feeling awkward about it. Kate had always dreamed about having a partner who allowed her to be touchy and borderline clingy without getting annoyed with her. She just never dreamed about said partner being herself.

It made more sense than she'd like but she wasn't about to complain. Not when the other archer knew exactly what she liked, how she liked it, and how often she needed it.

She could definitely get used to this.

Yelena, on the other hand, did not want to get used to this. To the way the Kates clung to each other, whispering snarky little comments to each other and and making each other giggle nonstop.

It wasn't like she was jealous or anything, she was simply annoyed that it took them an extra hour to come up with a plan since the handsy brunettes kept getting distracted by each other. It also didn't help that Kate was the only one out of them who had actually been inside the coven's meeting place and she couldn't focus for more than a minute at a time.

She was used to her short attention span but this was getting ridiculous.

It didn't help that there were two of them and she was the only one genuinely trying to solve their problems. Problems that would have been avoided had Kate actually listened to her for once and avoided interacting with their target.

She wished she could be mad but, sadly, the archer was too endearing for her to be genuinely upset at her. (She could practically hear Natasha making fun of her for being such a "softie" after all.)

Thankfully, they managed to somehow come up with a plan that didn't totally sound like a failure and didn't include them crashing through the ceiling of the hideout.

That being said, she still thought it was a shitty plan. Especially since it relied on Kate not getting distracted by her affectionate alternate.

She decided not arguing was the best course of action and before she knew it, she was getting dragged along by two overconfident archers. There was no rush but neither of them listened to her (what a surprise) and insisted they put their plan in action sooner rather than later.

Her initial complaints about bringing no supplies with her were instantly silenced by "future" Kate who reminded her of all the things she'd stored in the spare bedroom. Maybe storing some of her weapons and vests at the archer's apartment hadn't been the worst idea in the world.

And no, she wasn't just saying that because it made the brunette smile when she admitted she had been right.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Kate was worse than a broken clock and she could only be right once a day. She wasn't sure why she still blindly trusted her when it was clear she was the worst strategist she'd ever met.

That being said, the archer did technically manage to get them inside the building without much hassle. It was what happened afterward that solidified how little she should trust her from now on.

When Kate told her what had happened when she faced the coven the first time, she conviniently forgot to mention the part where they were looking for Yelena. And now the archer had brought her right to the witches doorstep.

"I have to give it to you, Ms. Bishop," the so-called leader said. "You have a way of making my job way easier."

She cursed under her breath, her annoyance growing as two pairs of slightly panicked blue eyes found each other.

They had done everything right, or at least they thought they had. They'd even listened to Clint's usual advice! They watched from afar, cut the lights and caused a distraction to make sure the leader was left by herself. The plan couldn't have been more badass than that!

And yet here they all were.

"What? Not even two of you can come up with something to say?"

"Only I can make fun of them," Yelena said, her hand already reaching for her knife. "And you are not as smart as you think you are."

"Bold words coming from exactly the person I was looking for."

"There is one thing you clearly do not know about me," the Russian said as she pulled out her knife, her feet carrying her closer to the woman. "I do not waste time chit-chatting."

Kate grimaced while she watched her do the one thing she told her not to do: rush at her enemy. She shouldn't have been surprised, though. When did she actually listen to her?

Both archers did what they could to back Yelena up but what happened next was inevitable.

One second, Yelena was right in front of her, knife in hand as she charged at the coven leader.

Then, she blinked.

And the blonde was gone.

Thankfully, the other archer managed to tackle the witch as Kate stared dumbfounded at the spot where the Russian had just been.

It took her a few seconds to realize what her sudden disappearance meant.

Yelena had been sent back in time.

Shit.

The Russian was going to kill her for sure. * * *

There weren't many things Yelena was sure of but she was sure Kate Bishop was going to be the death of her.

Not because she made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling or because she somehow always came up with the weirdest mission plans. No, she was going to be death of her because she got her sent back in time by a fucking witch coven.

What had her life turned into?

Maybe she would have been more on edge about the whole thing if she hadn't been forced to listen to not one, but two Kate's explain how she'd been sent back in time and found some sense of peace in herself.

As weird, and annoying, as their obvious feelings for each other were, it made her feel a bit better about the whole thing. At least she wouldn't be alone…although she was doubtful her other self would be as excited to spend time with herself as the archer had been.

She tried not to think about it too much, there was no use worrying about how she was going to explain this situation to her past self. All she could do was hope she wouldn't have to fight herself. There was no telling how long that could last.

The walk to her homebase was longer than she would have liked but eventually, she arrived and went through the long process of getting inside. Everyone thought she was a touch too paranoid but she'd rather be safe than sorry. Plus, Kate had offered to "buff up" her home security for free and she couldn't find it in herself to refuse.

That's how she ended up with a ridiculous amount of locks and a high-tech digital identity verification system. It was pretty cool in her eyes, even if it made getting pizza deliveries a pain in the ass.

She made her way through her front door, doing her best to not alert her alternate self of her presence. Sneaking up on her would surely be a bad idea but she also didn't want to burst in and risk getting attacked.

She found her past self in the kitchen and loudly coughed to get her attention.

The blonde instantly looked up, her eyes widening slightly once she saw her.

"Who are you?" Her past self asked, her hand already reaching for the knife tucked into her belt. "How did you get in?"

"I'm you, idiot," she replied, unable to stop her eyes from rolling. She understood her other self's apprehension, she would be reacting the same way had she not spent far too long in the company of one too many Kate's. "I have security access."

"That is impossible."

She suddenly understood what Kate meant when she said she often had "dry and obvious" responses. She still didn't understand why the brunette liked it so much, though. It was definitely annoying.

"If it was, I wouldn't be here right now," she replied just as drily.

Somehow, her response seemed to make sense to the Russian. A beat of silence passed before she nodded in what seemed to be approval. "Good point."

"That…that is it?" She asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "That is all it took for you to believe me?"

"Would you like me to fight you? Because honestly, I am still sore from my morning workout."

They locked eyes for a second before bursting into laughter. It was so weird but it felt right, somehow. She didn't have to guess or walk around eggshells, they both managed to understand each other in seconds without even using words.

Shit.

She was starting to think like Kate Bishop.

It seemed borderline impossible but maybe…Kate had a point. Maybe no one could make her feel as seen and understood as herself.

Maybe there was nothing wrong with wanting to explore a connection that deep.

"So, how did you get here, anyway?" Her past self asked once their giggles had died down. "I am assuming a mission went wrong?"

"You have no idea how wrong," she replied with an eyeroll. "I'm never trusting Kate Bishop's plans again."

"Why am I not surprised Kate is involved?" The amusement in her tone was difficult to hide. "Maybe we should go to her apartment and talk to her."

Her mind instantly filled with thoughts she didn't want to have. Thoughts filled of the activities both Kates were currently involved in…and the hickies that would be left behind. "I do not think she'd enjoy the…interruption."

"What are you talking about?"

"She is…enjoying some quality time with herself."

"What do you-" Past Yelena's face twisted into a mixture of surprise and confusion as the realization hit her. "You cannot be serious."

It was strange but she found herself growing somewhat defensive over the archers. She swore it wasn't because she approved of what they were doing or anything. It was simply because she saw how happy Kate looked with her other self. As much as it pained her to admit, she'd never seen her look like that before.

"I am," she replied, doing her best to keep her voice level. "Is that a problem?"

It was almost comical how quick she was to fluster. No one was ever able to make her blush and she felt a little proud of herself for achieving it so quickly.

"What Kate Bishop does in her free time is none of my business."

She couldn't stop herself from laughing. Her words would have been believable if they weren't the same person. Unfortunately for her past self, she knew the truth hidden beneath the surface.

The secrets she'd never tell another soul…except herself.

"So…you do not mind, then?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "It is not weird?"

They were the same person, she knew that, but she also knew what she would have said 24 hours ago. It wasn't like she was thinking of doing anything with her past self but…maybe she wanted to know she could.

"It's not the weirdest thing I've heard about Kate Bishop," the blonde said with a shrug. "I do not think it's for me, though."

Yelena should have let the conversation die there. It would have been easy to simply shut up and do something else. Talk about anything else. And yet she couldn't let it go.

She couldn't stop herself from asking the one question that had been on her mind since she'd walked in on both Kates making out.

"You are not even a little curious?" Her feet carried her across the kitchen floor without her even thinking until she was standing right in front of her past self.

She expected the blonde to shrug and step back from her. Maybe throw a warning her way and move on. But after all, they were the same person and the same things made them tick.

They shared the same, unspoken, fantasies and she knew exactly what to do. Where to look, where to linger with a soft touch.

She almost couldn't believe she was doing this but then again, she'd spent the past day more than a little frustrated. Haunted by ridiculously bad ideas featuring two pairs of identical blue eyes. Who better to give her some relief than herself?

"Curious about what?" Her alternate tried to appear unaffected but she knew herself better than that. She caught the clench in her jaw and her distracted eyes. "We are the same, your body is my body."

"That may be true…" She trailed off, her hand trailing down her arm. "But it will not feel the same."

The blonde rolled her eyes in response but she didn't push her off. She didn't seem to fully agree with her thoughts and yet she wasn't doing anything to stop her.

Yelena smelled a challenge and she wasn't about to back down without a fight.

Her hands found their way onto past Yelena's waist, slowly slipping under the hem of her muscle tank and tracing her stomach. The shiver her actions drew from her made her smirk and she couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself.

"This is wrong, you know that?"

The question made her chuckle. All it did was make her more emboldened, rather than embarrassed. Compared to all of the horrible things she'd ever done in her life, this felt like a walk in the park.

This was her choice.

And after years of feeling like she had no choice but to do what someone else wanted her to do, this moment bordered on therapeutic. Not to mention, ridiculously arousing.

"I don't know, you seem to be enjoying it a lot." She emphasized her point by gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it off in one quick move.

"Fuck off."

She opened her mouth to tease her again but her other self didn't let her get very far. The blonde gripped her arms in a tight hold and moved her back until they made it to the living room.

A part of her wanted to fight back but she was a little too intrigued to stop her.

She allowed her to push her down onto the couch, taking a seat and subconsciously spreading her legs.

"Do not get any ideas," her past self said as she dropped to her knees in front of her. "I am just doing this to shut you up."

"If you say so." The amusement in her voice was more than clear.

It took the other blonde almost no time to reach out and start taking off her vest. Her fingers worked fast to undo the straps and push the garment off her shoulders.

With the vest out of the way, she was able to remove her tight compression shirt but not before very clearly admiring the way the fabric hugged her breasts. It momentarily reminded her of Kate which only served to remind her how desperate she was for relief.

"I think you are the one that's enjoying this a lot," past Yelena murmured, groping and squeezing her breasts through her top.

"Well, it was my idea," she replied as she arched her back into her touch.

The blonde hummed in response, her eyes darkening slightly despite how unaffected she claimed to be. "Naughty girl."

"Careful, I'm the one in charge here."

Her words were met with an eye roll and a pair of impatient hands that continued undressing her. Neither of them were complaining, though, so she allowed her shirt and bra to be removed in one quick move.

The cold air of the room caused her slightly hard nipples to fully harden and she could see her other self's restraint slipping in real time. That was all it took for her to move.

She reached for the blonde's hands and did her best to not smirk when she felt how tense she got as she pulled her hands toward her breasts. "What is the problem? Scared you'll like it?"

"You need to stop talking," she grumbled.

Despite her feigned annoyance, she fulfilled Yelena's unspoken order. They both shivered the second her hands wrapped around her breasts, her thumbs instantly rubbing over her nipples.

The moan that left her lips came out more like a growl, her nails digging into the other blonde's wrists. "And you need to start behaving."

Her words were met with a low chuckle. "Is that what you want? Did you run out of people to order around or something?"

She couldn't help but find her defiance attractive. She knew the reasons for it, the fire that burned underneath the surface, hot enough to burn anyone who dared get too close. But she wasn't just "anyone".

She pulled her past self closer until their faces were inches apart, her alternate's arms almost fully wrapped around her neck. Her words were a mere whisper as she spoke. "Maybe I just know you'll be far more obedient than anyone else."

If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under right now. "You are wrong."

"Then why are you on your knees for me?"

It was subtle but the fire in the blonde's eyes changed. The traces of defiance were still there and yet there was no denying the desire that was slowly starting to overtake the green in her eyes. She was sure she'd never seen a more captivating sight.

She waited for the snarky reply that was surely about to fly out of past Yelena's mouth but it never came. Instead, she was met with a smirk before she crashed her lips against hers.

The kiss felt wrong in all the best ways. It was messy and rough and far more passionate than anything she had shared with her recent flings. They had all been stupid moments of weakness meant to distract her from her unprofessional thoughts about a certain archer.

This was different, though.

It bordered on forbidden and yet that made it all the more exciting. Something the other blonde was feeling too given the way she was attempting to straddle her leg.

She wasn't quite ready to give her what she wanted yet. She had a much better idea.

"Lay down, detka." The roughness of her voice contrasted perfectly with the softness of her fingers as she caressed the side of the blonde's face. "And do not make me repeat myself."

Past Yelena huffed but she obeyed her perfectly just like she had expected. With her obedience came the rush of power that turned her on like nothing else.

It took her no time at all to discard the few articles of clothing left on her body, doing her best not to laugh at how desperate her alternate looked. The way her eyes trailed over every inch of revealed skin did little to soothe the throbbing between her legs.

Her intentions were more than clear once she sank down right above the other blonde's face. She briefly considering ordering her to keep her hands to herself but the way she instantly gripped onto her thighs to pull her down was far too arousing to tell her to stop.

A sharp gasp left her lips as she felt her mouth make contact with her soaked cunt. She hadn't even realized how wet she'd gotten from just a few touched. She'd be embarrassed if she wasn't so sure the other woman was on the same boat.

"There you go," she murmured as her hands landed on her other self's chest for stability. The action made her have to lean forward and she relished the strangled moan her movements earned her.

She ground her hips against the blonde's face, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of her desperate licks against her clit. "Come on, you can do better than that, can't you?"

She expected to hear a complaint but it didn't come. That didn't mean her other self didn't express her dislike for being ordered around in a different way, though. It's how she ended up with her lips fully wrapped around her sensitive clit and two fingers teasingly poking at her entrance.

The urge to ask for more was strong despite her desire to stay in control. It wasn't her fault considering her pleasure wasn't exactly in her hands. It was in the hands of her alternate self who was having too much fun being a brat and pushing her buttons.

Thankfully, it seemed like all she wanted was to hear her moans turn slightly whinier. Once she got what she wanted, she sunk her fingers into her pussy and doubled her efforts in an attempt to make her completely fall apart.

"Fucking hell-" She gasped, unable to stop her hips from chasing after her fingers every time she pulled out. "Don't fucking stop."

"Or what?" Her other self muttered.

A part of her wanted to tell her off for stopping to talk but the vibrations felt incredible.

"I'll tie you up and leave you there all day." It was, admittedly, a shitty threat but it wasn't like her brain was currently working at full capacity.

"You think I will not like that?" Her fingers sped up once more, curling just enough to bring her closer to the edge with each thrust.

"I don't think you want to find out, oh-"

The rest of her words died in her throat as she started to suck on her clit again, her tongue drawing rapid circles against the swollen bud.

"Just like that- Fuck!"

Her orgasm hit her like a truck. Her hips shook almost uncontrollably as she continued to grind against the other blonde, the feeling of her nails digging into her skin only adding to the pleasurable sensations currently overwhelming her body.

For someone so obsessed with being in control and having the upper hand at all times, this moment felt freeing rather than uncomfortable. It felt far better than anything she'd experienced before and a realization hit her as she rolled off of herself before she took advantage of her blissed out state.

"Motherfucker," she mumbled with a laugh.

"What?" Her other self asked, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Kate Bishop was right."

They shared a look before erupting into a fit of giggles, both of them far too breathless to actually laugh.

"We are never telling her that."

"I agree," she replied as her smile turned into a smirk. "But for now, I think someone deserves a reward."

Even if they didn't tell her, she'd be able to notice the peculiar marks that covered their necks and the obvious blush on their cheeks whenever they made eye contact.

Who could blame them, though? After all, Kate had been the one to put the idea of spending quality time with herself in their head in the first place.

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