#brother boyfriend pounded my ass real good

[attntionwhre]

just got fucked in the ass real good by big bro <333

[lipglossanon]

16 December

Real bro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, dead dove, bratty reader, mean Leon, dirty talk, angry sex, light spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, cheesy ending lol

not proofread

It’s another lame ass Christmas party that Leon’s been roped into going to, only this time he was able to bring you along. You’re pissed, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s not going to be the only one miserable. 

Only now, you seem to enjoy flirting with some sleazy dickhead to piss him off—and it's working. He’s seen the guy around at a few other parties, hitting on girls and then dumping them for the next piece of ass. Lucky for you, he’s not gonna let that happen. Leon walks over to you, grabbing you by the bicep and rudely pulls you away. Dragging you through the house, he finally shoves you into an out of the way bedroom. 

Shutting and locking the door behind him, he rounds on you. “What do you think you’re doing? Acting like some fucking slut.”

“What’re you talking about?” Your voice raises in frustration. “It was some guy, who by the way I’m not even interested in! Not that it’s any of your fucking business!”

Leon’s chest burns, a red flush creeping up his neck. “It is my fucking business! I’m looking out for you, you know like a fucking brother.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes and Leon’s irritation spikes. 

“You’re being an asshole,” you scoff. “I can talk to whoever I want to! And besides, you’re just now going to conveniently play the big brother card?”

Leon bares his teeth in a mean smile. “By all means, tell everyone I’m your boyfriend. That you like your big brother fucking you.”

You sneer and lightly slap his shoulder with the palm of your hand. “Fuck you, Leon. You know exactly what I meant.”

“Do I?” He reaches out and grabs your wrist, a tight enough grip that you can’t pull free.

��Yeah,” you spit out, trying to wrench yourself free from his hand. “Let go.”

“Make me,” he taunts, a nasty grin slipping into place. “Aww, you can’t. What a shame.”

Before you can say anything else, Leon snatches you by the waist and wrangles you over to the bed. He ignores your bitchy words and the slaps and kicks aimed at him; pushing you down, he clasps both of your wrists in one hand and uses his free hand to yank your skirt up. 

“Gonna fuck this bratty pussy, little sis. Teach you to keep that mouth shut.”

You buck your hips wildly, jostling him enough his hands slip. He laughs when you push at his shoulder, then takes hold of your shoulders to flip you onto your stomach. Snagging a hold of your biceps, he forces your elbows to bend so he can bring your arms behind you, stacking them on top of one another. Now, he’s able to keep a grip on both as well as press you down into the mattress with his body weight.

Your head is turned to lay against the pillow, one eye looking at him angrily, lips twisted into an angry pout. Smirking, he lands a harsh slap to your ass.

“Don’t be so upset. You shouldn’t have acted like a fucking baby.”

He spanks your ass again and you huff angrily. 

“Fuck you, Leon.”

“Oh, you will,” he leers, pulling your panties down to your thighs. “Gonna stuff this cute pussy with cock and cum til you behave.”

You yell at him, but it doesn’t stop him from cupping your mound, fingers teasing and touching your clit. He chuckles when you grind down against the pads of his fingers, humping his hand. 

“Good girl, you want it just as bad as I do.”

He shuffles his jeans and briefs down until he can pull his cock out. Giving himself a few pumps, he presses the head against your wet hole, sinking into your silky heat. His hand presses down on your arms, keeping you in place while he uses his free hand to press down on your head. He slams his hips against your ass, groaning at the feeling of your hot pussy sucking his dick in eagerly. 

Your muffled moaning spurs him to pound into your cunt with rough deep strokes, his cock never leaving the snug walls of your slick hole. He’ll never get tired of this feeling, fucking insane to think his little sis has a pussy that’s such a perfect fit. 

“Cute fucking pussy,” he grits, biting down on your clothed shoulder. “Could just stay buried in this perfect cunt.”

You tighten around him, pussy fluttering and gripping his cock so tight—he chuckles, humping your ass hard enough the sound of your skin clapping together fills the room. 

“Want me to rub that swollen little clit?” He teases at your ear. “Want me to reach down and play with that slippery pussy til you cum?”

He grunts when you strangle his cock in your soft, wet cunt. It’s almost too tight for him to pull out, but he quickly fucks back into your pussy, stretching your cute hole. 

“Really working for that creampie, you little brat,” he pants, grinning when you whine in agreement. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you empty. I’ll stuff this hot, sweet pussy so good I’ll be dripping out of you the rest of the night.”

Your ass cants back against him and he lets go of holding your arms down, moving his forearms to bracket your head, the new position allowing him to fuck you hard and fast into the squeaking mattress. 

“Play with your clit,” he moans, watching one of your arms sluggishly move to slide under you body. “Fuck, that’s it, make that cute pussy feel good.”

Less worried about you cumming, Leon pumps his cock in and out of your squelching heat. His own orgasm wound tight, balls heavy with the need to stuff your bratty pussy. You squeal into the pillow, body thrashing underneath him while your cunt flutters and pulses around his cock. 

“You cumming? Fuck, so fucking tight, sis,” he bites down on your neck, hips pistoning against the fat of your ass. “Gonna cum in you, fuck, gonna breed my little sister’s needy cunt. Fuck—“

He cuts himself off with a loud groan, cock shooting rope after rope of hot, thick cum—painting your walls white even as your pussy milks him for every drop. You whimper and whine when Leon slips out of your puffy, used cunt. Flipping you onto your back, he crowds into your space, dragging his cum and slick covered dick across your sticky mound while he kisses you sloppily. 

Moaning, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close. Your tongue licks into his mouth and he sucks on the slick muscle with a groan. Eventually, Leon pulls away, looking down at your swollen lips and feeling his cock twitch against your dripping pussy. 

“Let’s go home,” you murmur, eyes half lidded. “Wanna suck you off.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “Can I give my little sis a facial?”

Whining yes, you tug him into another messy kiss. Maybe, Leon thinks, holiday parties are good for something after all. 

[badbtssmut]

The reader dates with Taehyung's twin and they have a quarrel. Taehyung pretends to be his twin brother and has sex with the reader like he always dreamed of

Admin note: normally don’t do twins, but liked this idea 🫶

—

“You were right, y/n. I shouldn’t have kept my ex’s number in my phone. You are right, it would only keep the door open to cheating. I was immature, and I’m sorry.” The man who you thought was your boyfriend, apologized.

You took the flowers Taehyung handed to you.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asked.

You opened the door wider, and stepped aside.

Taehyung walked into your apartment and sat down on the couch. “I missed you.” He said.

You closed the door and sat beside him.

You sighed and shook your head.

You missed him too. But you had been angry. Angry that he still had his ex-girlfriend in his phone. It had made you question if you could ever really trust him.

Your first real fight. It had been one week since you had seen or spoken to each other.

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had vented to Taehyung how he was sick of how jealous and insecure you were, and how you had accused him of cheating. This was the perfect time for him to make his move. Taehyung convinced his brother to give you some space, and to reconsider the relationship, causing doubt in his mind.

“Y/N, please, I was being immature.” He scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You rested your head against him.

He kissed the top of your head.

You missed this.

You missed him.

“Alright, I don’t want to fight anymore. I forgive you. Just, no more secrets okay? No more lies. You tell me the truth from now on, and I promise to do the same. And no more ex-girlfriends in your phone.”

Taehyung chuckled. “I promise.”

—

Something was different about your boyfriend.

“Fuck, such a delicious pussy, want to pound into it all night.” Taehyung groaned as he tilted his head back, thrusting into you.

He was rougher, and dirtier.

And you were loving it.

His cock felt like it was splitting you open. It was so big and long. You loved how he filled you up. You loved how he slammed his hips against you. How he gripped your thighs tightly as he pounded you.

“I didn’t know you could fuck me like this…” You whispered, “You’re different, but I like it.” You let out a shaky moan as he groped onto your breasts, kneading them in his hands, before leaning down to lick and suck at them.

His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you arch your back, pushing your breasts against his mouth.

Your boyfriend had gotten more aggressive with his fucking, and a little more dominant.

But you didn't mind.

Taehyung grabbed your ankles, pushing your knees against your chest as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass.

You were dripping.

Dripping wet.

The room was filled with the lewd sounds of sex.

“Pretty girls like you deserve to get filled with cum, don't you agree, princess? You love the feeling of my cock inside of you, don’t you? Look how good you take me, you were made to take my dick.” Fuck, he was so hot.

You felt your pussy milk Taehyung’s cock dry, clenching around him, causing him to spill inside of you.

Taehyung grunted. He held your legs open and thrusted in and out of you as his seed spilled inside of your cunt.

You came down from your high, and watched him pull his cock out, and the cum drip out of your pussy.

His thumb pressed down on your clit. Taehyung then rubbed circles around your clit, and then moved his hand down, sliding two fingers into you and pumping in and out of you, his cum dripping from his fingers.

You shuddered, “More.. please.”

He smiled wickedly.

You loved this new side of him.

-

"Pretty flowers,” Your boyfriend complimented the bouquet on the table.

“They are, they have been holding up pretty well. Where’d you get them?” You asked as you hugged him.

“Huh?” He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Stop joking around,” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not, what are you talking about? I didn’t get those for you.” He pointed to the flowers.

Your stomach dropped.

“What? Please.. stop, that’s not funny! Are you going to say next that we didn’t fuck either? It was just a dream!? Don't play games with me. I remember it like it was yesterday, are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

Your boyfriend’s face turned pale at your words.

“That fucking asshole, it must’ve been Taehyung, that sneaky motherfucker!” Your boyfriend suddenly shouted, slamming a fist on the table before he ran off, leaving you in confusion.

Wait, you fucked his twin brother?

[blindmagdalena]

Hey again! So following up on the s/o with close older brother question, let's say the older brother kinda sorta knows that Homelander is fucked up, and has the "talk" with him (the "if you hurt a thread of hair on my sibling I'll fuck you up" type talk. The older brother doesn't really care that Homelander is this famous powerful being or whatever). Maybe the older brother tries to keep Homelander's s/o away from him. How would that scenario go?

Clearly Homelander's persona as an upstanding hero and dream-perfect boyfriend has lulled this moron into a false sense of security. He thinks he can speak to him with some kind of authority the moment he gets a whiff of something being off.

He's in for a harsh wakeup call.

“It you hurt her I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Homelander interjects sharply, smiling in the same way a beast bares its teeth. The threat of it echoes in his eyes, wide and unkindly set. “No, really. You’ll what?”

Your brother only hesitates a second, but that’s all Homelander needs to pounce.

“That’s right. Not a fucking thing. I could shove your fist all the way down your throat and high-five you out your ass, and no one in this world would do a goddamn thing about it. You wanna know why?”

He leans in, that predator grin stretching wider. “I’m me, and you’re nobody.”

He relishes the look that puts on the poor saps face. He can’t help but continue to push, to establish that he’s the only one calling the shots here.

“Here’s the deal, bro,” he says, slinging an arm around the man’s shoulder. “Your sister? She fucking worships me. I don’t care how close you were or how much you thought she loved you, she’s mine now. And I will tell you one goddamn thing for certain, buckaroo,” he says, possessiveness making his tone vicious. His gloved hand tightens like a claw on the man's shoulder. “No one tells me what to do with what’s mine," he says through his teeth, leaning uncomfortably close. "Threaten me again and you’ll be eating from a tube and shitting into a bag for the rest of your miserable life.”

He soaks up the look of horror on the man’s face, knowing that by saying something so extreme, something so entirely out of character for the man you know, you’ll never believe it. If your brother tries to tattle, he'll look like the psychopath. Homelander will naturally deny every word of it while being as supportive as any good boyfriend should be.

“Okie-dokie. Good talk, bro!” He says, abruptly chipper, his smile now broad and eerily friendly. He gives him a harsh pat on the back and leaves him to stew on his friendly advice. “Let’s not do it again, okay?” He stops in the doorway, turning to point his index finger at him, thumb raised. “And remember, you’re the real hero.”

He savors the fading sound of the man’s heart pounding in his chest and the lingering bitter stink of his fear as he walks away. The taste of you will be the sweetest chaser to it.

[boydepartment]

Speaking of migraines, can I request taking care of sunghoon when he has a really bad migraine, and has to miss a performance, and just being there for him through it all 💖💌

funny you requested this when i posted i had a migraine but yes i can write this :) sorry it was a little late

MASTERLIST

Missed Performances- Sunghoon x Gn! Reader

You had a long day at work, but it wasn’t bad! Just really long and somewhat boring. On your walk home you decided to pick up some of your favorite snacks. You had a little spring in your step tonight because your boyfriend was performing so you were planning on streaming it on your tv tonight.

You were your boyfriend’s #1 fan, you loved him more than anything. When he got a jersey with his name on it you bet your ass you begged him to give it to you. You proudly wear that Sunghoon jersey around.

After getting your bags of groceries you started to head home for real this time. With your hands full you didn’t even see Sunghoon’s text telling you he was at your apartment. You hummed as you took the stairs up to your floor, you were only on the third floor, so the detour wasn’t horrible. When you got to your door you smiled, finally you can relax. Unlocking the door and putting the cold groceries in the fridge, you started walking to your room. You happily creaked the door open and saw a man in your bed. Your heart dropped; someone broke into your apartment! Quickly you shut the door and locked yourself into the bathroom. Not even thinking you called your boyfriend.

1 ring

2 rings

3 ri-

“Hello…?” Sunghoon’s voice sounded tired and strained, you were happy to hear it anyways though.

“Sunghoon- baby- someone broke into my apartment and he’s in my bed and- “

“Baby. It’s me. I texted you.” He kept his sentences short; you looked down at your phone and saw that he indeed texted you.

Oh, you walked out of the bathroom and into your room. Sunghoon was sitting up and looking at you, you put your hand on the light switch and he very quickly covered his eyes and pleaded with you.

“PLEASE NO LIGHT!”

You stopped in your actions immediately, “baby you are supposed to be performing… are you alright?” You walked over and sat next to him, quickly but carefully he leaned into your touch.

“I woke up with a migraine this morning, I took meds, but it didn’t go away.” He mumbled into your shoulder, Sunghoon started to rub his face into your arm, trying to rub away the burning pain behind his eyes.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You asked softly, grabbing his hand. He mumbled something and laid more into your touch.

“Okay baby, let me just get changed out of my work clothes.”

Sunghoon nodded and let you get up, after you got out of your outside clothes which usually you never get into your bed with outside clothes, but your sick boyfriend was there so you made an exception.

When you got back under the covers immediately, he went beside you, rubbing his face on you trying to get the pressure out of his head. It was pounding and it hadn’t gone away.

“Do you want me to cook you anything?” You mumbled, “I picked up food on my way home.”

“Please just stay with me, I feel so bad.” He said back, his voice straining again.

You rubbed his head a bit, trying to use any kind of pressure point that you knew of to help his head, “is it just your head?”

“I feel bad for not being able to perform too, I feel bad for not being capable to perform…” He kept going on about how he felt like he failed his team, his brothers.

Your heart broke a bit, “baby, you don’t feel well, it’s okay. You’re only human… please don’t beat yourself up.”

He only stayed quiet, you frowned and continued to brush your hands through his hair, “get some rest, okay?”

Sunghoon fell asleep and you stayed there watching, when he got up, you made sure he ate and took more meds. You were happy to be around him and take care of him. When he felt good enough to watch the performance you both watched it. The rest of Enhypen did a little tribute to him and you saw Sunghoon smile.

“I love you.”

Sunghoon looked at you, “I love you too.” He was still smiling.

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 28: Animal

Castiel whines pitifully, but the shelter attendants are either heartless bastards or too damn used to the sounds of sad animals because none of them even turn around to his cage. In the pound, it smells overwhelmingly of dog piss and fear. Castiel’s nose itches, and his hackles have stood on end since he got thrown in here.

He paces in the small confines of his cell, his brain whirring. The full moon is waning, already well past his zenith, hence the human thoughts pushing past the wolfish instincts.

In under an hour he’s going to change back and answer a lot of hard questions, since animal control doesn’t usually pick up naked, 20-something baristas slash grad-students.

Snout wrinkling, Castiel sits back on his haunches, and this time his worried whine is entirely involuntary.

He should have gone to the country with the rest of his pack, but he’d been desperate. 

Dean had invited him over for an extended stay as a trial run before they officially move in together, and, Castiel, at loath to give Dean any reason to doubt them, had to say yes. Not after the fiasco of the last full moon, where Dean found out his little furry secret, thanks to Castiel landing himself in the very same situation he is in now.

Gabriel had laughed himself silly at the sight of Castiel stuck in the cage, but he did the big brother thing and bailed him out before Castiel had to release the transformation.

But not before the vets inserted the microchip. “A reminder, bro,” Gabriel said, “not to get your ass caught again.”

Gabriel’s run afoul of animal control more times than Castiel can count on all four paws. But, unlike Castiel, he delighted in baiting the dog catchers, almost getting caught before leaping out of their grasp at the very last second.

Castiel isn’t sure if Gabriel has ever gotten taken, but his older brother is crafty enough to find a way out, that’s for sure.

Castiel squints at the lock – his wolf eyes are far more farsighted than his human ones – as he tries to figure out how to manipulate it without opposable thumbs. But he can only fit a claw or two through the chain link fence penning him in.

The door opens, and the other dogs bark and yowl. Castiel instinctively flattens his ears against the noise.

The shelter attendant opens the cage opposite Castiel and deposits a very drugged-up yorkiepoo. After he leaves, Castiel he hurls himself bodily at the latch.

It doesn’t even budge.

Silently swearing to himself, Castiel tries again. The metal groans but holds firm.

Castiel retreats to the back of his cage, his eyes closing into slits as he thinks over his options. None of them are good.

He’s just gearing up for another try at the metal cage, when the door creaks open with a familiar, whispered hiss of, “Cas!”

Castiel freezes.

Sure enough, Dean comes into view, his green eyes narrowed in concern as he frantically scans the cages for his wayward boyfriend.

Castiel howls, and Dean makes a bee-line for him. “Jesus,” he whispers, “Shut up, you dumbass. D’you want both of us to get caught?”

Castiel shuts up.

Dean unlatches the cage with a frustratingly easy flip of his human fingers, and Castiel nearly tackles him in a burst of newfound freedom. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles, gingerly patting the top of Castiel’s head, “I’m happy to see you too, buddy. Come on, we gotta move. Luckily, they’re understaffed at this hour.”

They sneak past the skeleton crew, and Castiel practically sprints to the Impala parked across the street.

“I suppose you’re not really a dog,” Dean says, frowning, as he opens the door for Castiel, “so don’t get any funny ideas about real dogs being allowed in my baby.”

Castiel wiggles over the seatrest into the back seat.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean yelps. “You’re blocking the rearview, Bad Moon Rising!”

Castiel settles down, panting, before he finally lets the transformation fall. An excruciatingly painful minute later, he finally comes back to himself, all his limbs tingling with pins and needles, shivering from the loss of his fur coat.

He meets Dean’s horrified gaze in the rearview mirror. “Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath as he wrestles out of his leather jacket. He hurls it into the backseat, and Castiel shrugs into it gratefully.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel rasps, and, god, he sounds awful.

Dean bobs a quick nod. “Anytime, man.”

Castiel scoots forward and braces his arms over the front seat’s seat rest. “How did you know?”

“I got an email,” Dean says curtly.

Castiel blinks. “Excuse me?”

At the next red light, Dean roots around in his pockets for his phone, unlocks it, and hands it to Castiel.

Sure enough, there’s a new email, an automatic one based on the generic language, that a pet registered under Dean’s name has been turned into the Lawrence Canine Shelter.

“Your brother has a strange sense of humor,” Dean says in an odd voice, “since he put my email down as your owner for microchip updates.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Castiel vows just as Dean finally loses it, filling the Impala with the sound of his raucous laughter.

[junisfics]

All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies

You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 

That was the first game of chance.

The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.

Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 

It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.

Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.

It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.

It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.

You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.

Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.

There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.

There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 

No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.

Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.

‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’

Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.

He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.

Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.

And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.

“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.

It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.

You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.

It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.

“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.

Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.

You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.

When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.

And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.

“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.

You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”

It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.

But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?

“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”

You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.

“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.

“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.

“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.

“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.

But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.

Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”

You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.

He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.

You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.

God, he’s so fucking nervous. 

Why is he so nervous? 

Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.

“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.

“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 

You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.

“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.

Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.

You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.

“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.

You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 

Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 

His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.

You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.

“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.

You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”

You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.

Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.

“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.

“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.

“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.

Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 

He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.

Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.

You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 

“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.

“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…

But he couldn’t let it happen like this.

You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.

“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.

And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.

Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.

“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.

You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.

You were going to be the death of him.

“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”

He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.

He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.

When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.

That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.

“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.

“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.

“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”

You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.

“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.

Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.

“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.

It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.

Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.

“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”

Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.

“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.

Of course he does. Of course he does. 

Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 

But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.

“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”

“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.

You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.

He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.

Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.

“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”

Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.

Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.

“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.

“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

“I need your cock.”

“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.

“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.

It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.

And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.

“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.

“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.

Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”

You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”

It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.

He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.

Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.

He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.

You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.

“You’re so hard,” You giggle.

Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”

You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.

[burnedbyshoto]

hawks_littledove.mp3

— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.

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pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks

word count: 5,018

a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.

kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist

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Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.

That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.

It started as a mild obsession.

You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.

The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.

⇒ grey fullbuster x reader

The obsession grew worse.

So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.

Hawks Fierce Wings

It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.

It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.

Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.

The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.

“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.

The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.

Oh my god?!

It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.

Oh, motherfucking shit.

Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos. 

Each one was different.

Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob. 

You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.

The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.

And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.

It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.

You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created. 

There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.

It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all. 

But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.

The very first video was of the following:

Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.

After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.

There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.

You had to take a break five times during that audio.

Eventually, you do end up catching up.

Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.

Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.

A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!

You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.

i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri

He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.

You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.

But, oh?

Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.

Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.

listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦

You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:

Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything

A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands. 

Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties

And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.

.

..

.

Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.

At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part. 

Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.

But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed. 

To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.

Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.

You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week. 

The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.

Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.

Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.

Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?

Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?

Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio

Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’

Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out

He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.

You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.

Hawks: do u have earbuds?

Me: Yes?

Hawks: good put them on n pick up

The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.

Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.

Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit

[Accept]

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.

“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.

“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head. 

“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”

“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”

“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”

“But, you picked up my call?”

“You said, or else!”

“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”

Your jaw drops.

It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.

“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”

“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”

“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”

“O-Oh my god…”

“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”

Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end. 

“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.

You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”

“Louder.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”

“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.

“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”

You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.

“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”

“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.

Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.

“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.

“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”

Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.

“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”

You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”

The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.

“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught. 

“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”

“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”

“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”

“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.

“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.

You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”

Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks. 

“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum. 

“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”

“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core. 

“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.

“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”

“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”

“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.

Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air. 

“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”

“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”

Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.

When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.

Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime  call me 03-9183-2495 ;)

[duskamethyst]

covet.

a/n: a remake so some might have read this but i switched up a bit because i wasn't particularly happy with it.

word count: 2.2k

genre: mature, nsfw

warning tags: implied noncon at the end, stalking, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!iwaizumi x f!reader

summary: you find out that you are your best friend's obsession.

iwaizumi has always been a good friend to you; more like a doting brother that’s always looking out for you, cheering you up as he listens to you cry over the phone over a bad and sudden break up or helps you when you need a hand– whether it’s from studying or changing the light bulb and he never expects anything in return. he’s amazing and it’s rather strange that he never had someone special as long as you’ve known him.

you’ve asked him about his love life plenty of times before but he often finds a way to avoid the topic. though it’s unusual, you only think that he probably has a shy side to him despite how tense he usually looks. you couldn’t find anything wrong with him that could drive others away– from his looks to how he treats people around him. and honestly? he is too good to be true.

but when something seems too good to be true, chances are, it really is.

you know iwaizumi more than anyone else– with oikawa as an exception. you cling onto each other almost every day and you often go out together to finish up an assignment. your friends are always poking fun at you about liking iwaizumi whenever you’re with him but you’re always quick to get defensive, afraid of making him feel awkward and also because it isn’t true– you don’t really feel that way about him.

he’s aware that they’re just teasing but he couldn’t help the blush creeping up on his cheeks each time he hears the untasteful joke and his heart breaks over how you get quite uptight about it because boy, he actually feels happy at the thought of you having feelings for him.

as much as you think you know the guy, to iwaizumi, you don’t actually know him.

you don’t know how he feels about you, but he understands that. it’s his fault for not confessing to you directly but he also wants to protect the relationship you both currently have. iwaizumi doesn’t want to ruin it. he doesn’t want the probability of losing you when he knows he’s nothing more to you than just a friend. you don’t know that you’re the only person that fills his mind day and night, jerking off to the image of you before going to sleep. and you don’t know how he spends so many hours at the gym, letting out his anger and frustration to the punching bag when you tell him that you’re seeing someone.

iwaizumi is mindful of the fact that he won’t ever get to be your boyfriend; let alone the one to spend the rest of your lives together and it pains him for having someone so close but couldn’t quite reach for.

little that he realizes, he begins to have an unhealthy obsession over you.

he usually pretends to find interest in your relationships and hookups just so he can use it to his advantage just so that in a couple of months, you will run back into his arms and talk about how sad you are over it and blame yourself about how you aren’t good enough to anyone.

he feels bad when he sees your sorry state. it hurts him more than it hurts you but he keeps reminding himself that even though he is the cause of your breakup, it’s for your own good. of course he can’t say that out loud, he’ll just coax you with sweet words, things you want to hear like how you deserve someone so much better. he will tell you that you should look closer, find that person who has went through thick and thin with you but god– it’s a shame that you’re just so blind.

iwaizumi begins to stalk you at night. using an excuse to ‘watch over you’ when he only wants to see you at your most vulnerable state which he believes to be the ‘real’ you, unraveled. he wants to see how you are when you’re alone and unmindful of the presence of others, including him.

your schedule for your night activities differs each night so he finds himself lucky when he’s just in time to see you strip off your clothes piece by piece until you have nothing on before hopping into the shower. a loud gulp downs his throat when he watches you turn to the full length mirror, bare and perfect ass conveniently facing the window when you observe your figure from the side– probably to see the progress from that work out he has been telling you about.

his jaw clenches at how careless and oblivious you are of your surroundings (but can he really blame you, though?) but it gives him all the more reason to stick close to you so he can protect you. he can already feel his cock throbbing inside his pants and if it’s not for the fact that you don’t know that he’s stalking you, he’d say that you’re purposely teasing him. iwaizumi quickly fishes for his phone and takes the opportunity to take a picture of you.

he can’t help to imagine how you smell like after a nice, long shower. that mere thought alone makes blood rush to his dick. a whiff of you from each time you’re sitting next to him is never enough. he already memorizes your nightly routines; you skip two days to wash your hair, you have a separate towel to wrap your wet hair and the steps of your skin care routine and then you will proceed to turn on the music as you do your assignment on your desk.

that reminds him that he has better things to do too, but he can’t and won’t walk away until he makes sure that you’re asleep peacefully in your room. he wants to make sure that you’re not inviting some guy to your place because who knows who you’ve been texting when you’re not next to him? he still trusts you though, there’s no way you’ll keep it a secret from him. even if you won’t tell him, it’s not like he can’t go through your phone when you leave for the bathroom, and it’s not like you’ll notice the extra face ID in your phone’s settings.

it’s just a precautionary measure, he thinks.

but iwaizumi’s favorite part from his immoral activity is when you’re laying down on your bed, legs spreading as one of your hands disappear between your thighs and lips parting in inaudible whines. the look of your fucked out face as you cum makes his own body flush with primal heat.

if only you’d ask, he’d be more than glad to help you with your sexual needs. he’d give you the best fuck of your life until your little hole can only remember the shape of his fat cock; not anyone nor anything else would make you feel stuffed full and satiated. he often wonders how sweet you’d taste and how nice the sound you’d make when you moan his name.

oh how he wishes that you’re getting off to the thought of him. a guy can only dream.

“iwa, i’m in front of your house!” you say through your phone while pressing his doorbell at the same time. the door opens to a half-asleep iwaizumi, a phone in his hand and another rubs his eyes before inviting you inside.

“were you asleep? jeez, you look bad. did you stay up or something?” you whine, putting your bag down on the couch.

“hah, you could say that,” he snickers. “but you’re early.”

“why not? i bought breakfast too. let’s eat!” you chime as you walk to the kitchen and start to take out the food from the container and place it on the plates.

“sure, i’ll wash up and brush my teeth. hold on.” he mindlessly puts down his phone on the counter and strides to the bathroom.

after setting up the table, you sit down and play with your phone as you wait for him to come out. his phone suddenly vibrates and you glance to see that his mom is calling. you hate to pry but you innocently think that it may be urgent so you run to his room to where the bathroom he’s in.

you can hear the running water through the door, thinking that he would still be inside the bathroom. “sorry, you have a call from your mom so i’m coming in!”

though you’ve been to iwaizumi’s house plenty of times, you’ve never gone inside his room to study or finish up a project and he’d always keep the doors closed while you both do work in the living room. you were never really curious anyway, nothing would be interesting coming from a guy in his 20s. you’re willing to bet that it would just be a messy bed and clothes laying around on the floor.

but you’re dead wrong.

your heart almost drops to the floor as your eyes are greeted with a pair of your own from across the room. it’s placed nicely as if it serves to greet anyone that opens the door to the room. it’s one of your selfies that you posted on instagram from some time ago and it is one of the biggest pictures on the wall so there is no denying that it doesn’t immediately catch your nor anyone’s attention.

he has other pictures posted neatly on the wall, next to where he lays his head on the bed and the biggest one is in the center while the smaller ones surround it, built like a shrine that’s usually made by an obsessive fan for their idols.

as you walk closer, you realize that they are all pictures of you taken when you were idle and your stomach churns when you notice that they are all taken while you’re in your own solitude. it has one of your many expressions, from how happy you looked as you sing to how your face displayed lewd expressions when you were enjoying yourself during your sinful moment.

your breathing starts jagging and the voice inside your head tells you to run. and as you turn your heels around and reach for the exit, a pair of hands suddenly close the door shut in front of you– instantly having you pinned between the door and the tall figure towering from behind you.

the room falls silent for a second, you can hear your own heart pounding in your ears. you quickly try to collect yourself, though not daring to turn and look at him as you speak.

“h-here... your m-mom called.” you extend your arm back so iwaizumi can take the phone from your hand. “i... um... have to go.” you gulp, “i left… my stove on.”

classic, nice going. who even uses that excuse anymore? he’ll never fall for that.

you can feel the hair behind your neck start to prickle when he chuckles from your back. he’s so close, you can feel his breath when he speaks and how his voice echoes throughout the silent room.

“you didn’t even cook this morning.”

“j-just let me go, iwa.” at this point, iwaizumi notices you begin to lose your composure as you try to pull the door open but to no avail as he pushes his arms harder to keep the door closed. damn him and his strong arms.

“i’ll have to thank my mom later for bringing you here.” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your smaller figure and easily lifts you up to his bed before proceeding to trap you underneath his muscular body and grabbing a pair of metal cuffs from the drawer next to his bed.

it’s almost like he has been planning this all along.

“iwa, please– you don’t want to do this.” tears are forming in your eyes as you feel the cold metal graze your skin and hear the locking sound from above your head to restrain your hands from fighting back, as if you would have succeeded in the first place anyway.

“why not?” his grin is maniacal as he watches you wriggle helplessly underneath him. “when i can have you all for myself now? baby, this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

“you– you’re scaring me.” the metal rattles against the headboard as you struggle to free your hands, but of course, to no avail. iwaizumi’s eyes bore through your panic stricken face; your eyes are glazed and he can make up the reflection of himself in them. he feels rather accomplished– he’s finally everything and the only one that you see.

“iwa..” fat tears start to roll down your cheeks as you sob helplessly. iwaizumi seems to be startled a bit, then his face softens.

“how are you so beautiful,” he leans down to kiss both corners of your eyes. “even when you’re crying like this?”

you thrash your head side to side in a sign of protest but he gently cups your face in his large hands so you can look back at the pair of dark eyes that are filled with longing and desperation for you.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you cry.” he kisses your forehead. “i don’t wanna be like those guys.” he kisses your nose before letting you go and draws himself back to be on his knees.

what once your comfort has quickly become a nightmare. his height and taut physique has never been deemed to be daunting until now; when he’s propped between your legs while his hand reaches down to caress your soft thigh and up to undo the zip of your skirt.

“please, let me make up for it– make you feel better. i promise i can.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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[seeuonadarknite]

picture perfect — yandere kuroo tetsuro x f. reader

warnings: toxic relationship, abuse, spitting/saliva, noncon, breeding kink, light asphyxiation

You were sick and tired of your boyfriend's relationship with your family members. Your siblings thought he was admirable for being Nekoma's captain, and your parents not only admired his position, but trusted him in full as well.

He was just this nerdy volleyball captain and respected your parents more than any of your previous exes. He was just such a nice guy, why would you want to leave him?

"(y/n), you've gotta be pulling my leg. He's a keeper! Why would you wanna break up with him?" You had pulled your mother aside to talk to her in private, not wanting to attract any of your siblings' attention, but she didn't seem to pay any mind to her volume.

If only she knew how fucking psychotic your boyfriend was. He kept tabs on your phone, monitored who you hung out with and when you went out, and gave out unethical punishments whenever you upset him. Which was quite frequently.

But you didn't wanna tarnish your boyfriend's image like that. Sure, he was absolutely horrible to you, but a part of you didn't want to expose him like that. Maybe it was a form of Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe it was fear of not being believed.

Nonetheless, you always kept things vague in order to protect your prince charming's reputation. "It's just.. things are rough between us. It's not as nice as it seems behind closed doors." And it was true. Your words may have been vague, but they were completely correct.

Unfortunately, they were too vague for your mother to comprehend and she just shrugged them off, like always. "Honey, that's how relationships work. You're gonna have your fights and it's gonna be ugly— you're young! You're both just seniors in high school, so of course it's not gonna be perfect." She sent you a warm smile, placing a hand onto your shoulder.

"Just talk things out with him, okay? Try not to make haste decisions just yet." Removing her hand from your shoulder, your mother walked away from the scene with a soft laugh.

If only you had noticed the pair of eyes peeking behind the corner the whole time. The eyes that belonged to your nosy, loudmouthed brother.

—

It had been a few days since you had the talk with your mother. Since then, you had attempted to rekindle things with Kuroo. Of course trying to be nice to him didn't fix a damn thing. If anything, it just gave him the OK to be an even shittier boyfriend. His possessiveness had only gotten worse.

You were currently sat next to him on his couch, watching some cheesy romance movie. “Oi, babe, c’mere.” He called you over with his arms stretched out. If he wasn’t such a manipulative bastard, you’d find the sight in itself cute. He was like a kid making grabby hands.

To which you obliged with ease, sliding into his arms to lean your head against his torso with your legs tangling with his. His hand made its way over to your head as he tangled his fingers through your hair, humming quietly at your compliance. It was nice; it felt like the two of you were just a normal, happy couple.

However, every good moment had to come to an end. “So.. your little brother was real eager to talk to me the other day.” Uh oh. The words that fell from his mouth were seemingly innocent, but his tone was what scared you. It was a tone you knew all too well. You were in deep shit.

Tilting your head upwards to peek at him from your spot on his torso, your eyes made contact, only to realize that he had been looking down at you the whole time. “Yeah, he sounded worried. Told me about a little chat you had with ma.” His gaze had darkened within seconds as he spoke. You were really starting to regret accepting his offer to cuddle.

“Babe, he’s a kid. You can’t trust everything he sa—“ Slap. Placing a hand on your stinging cheek, you looked up at the narrowed eyes of your boyfriend. He had slapped you right across the face. How he had managed to put so much power into a slap with the position you two had been in was a mystery to you.

That wasn’t important. What was important was his hand roughly gripping your chin, nails digging into your soft skin. “Do you think that I’m that fucking stupid? Are you really trying to ruin a picture perfect family? Our picture perfect family? (y/n), I can’t have you telling everyone that I’m ‘bad.’ It’s about time that I put you in your place.”

And with that, his hand that had previously gripped your jaw was now forcefully prying it open. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up at your boyfriend with tears brimming your eyes. Before you could even start to retaliate, a sticky string of saliva gradually fell down from his mouth. God, he was spitting in your mouth and you couldn’t do anything about it. His hand was too damn strong.

“If you wanna properly own up to your actions, go on and swallow it.” It was absolutely sickening how he believed he was teaching you some sort of lesson. You wanted to call him disgusting and hit him in the face, but you were driven by fear, thus leading to your regretful actions.

Your pride wasn’t the only thing you swallowed, as the sticky substance of Kuroo’s saliva cascaded down your throat. Giving your face a few light slaps, he sent you his cheshire grin. “Good girl.” Without another word, he slipped up from under you.

For a second, you actually believed that he was laying off, and deciding that maybe spitting in your mouth was enough of a punishment. But no, as soon as you even thought about getting off of the couch, he forcefully flipped your body over and shoved your face into the couch cushion.

“Did ya really think I was done with you? Let me show you how much of a good boyfriend I am.” His fingers wrapped around the waistband of your shorts and panties, wasting no time in shoving them down to your ankles. “T-Tetsu! Wait!” Your cries and pleads went unheard as he pulled his flaccid cock from his boxers. Bringing your hips up to his, he began rubbing the length of his cock up against your folds.

Not only was the feeling of his gradually hardening cock rubbing against your folds turning you on, but it was making him moan like a pornstar. He paid absolutely no mind to his volume; you felt kinda bad for his neighbors.

The friction in itself was enough to create a pool between your legs. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna put it in.” Of course he didn’t even consider putting on a condom. It almost felt as if he wanted to knock you up. If he did that, you really wouldn’t be able to leave him, right?

With both of his hands on your ass and his thumbs on your folds, spreading them open from behind, he pushed the head of his cock inside of you. “Tets—Tetsu, it’s not gonna fit..!” Your head was shoved up against the couch cushion by his right hand, whilst his left was holding onto your waist, giving him something to grip as he sheathed himself inside of you. His cock had so much girth; it practically felt like he was tearing you apart.

Kuroo tilted his head back with a loud, dragged out moan, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. No matter how many times he fucked you, he always felt a sense of euphoria at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around his cock. Hell, his moans were probably louder than your own.

Once he calmed down from his high, he began thrusting into you at a furious pace. You were lucky you even got a chance to adjust to his size, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to start out at a gradual pace. Gripping onto the edge of the cushion, your jaw dropped as a moan erupted from your throat. God, your moans sounded like music to Kuroo’s ears. He could feel his cock twitch inside of you at the sound.

It really sucked having such an athletic lover, because his stamina and speed was just too much for you to handle. His pace was borderline animalistic as he pounded into you. The grip he had on your hips was absolutely bruising, and his nails dug into your scalp as he pushed your head further into the couch.

“Maybe I should cum inside..! Heh, you’d be real hot with big, swelling tits.” His hand pushed you further down, gradually making it more difficult to breath as he reared his hips back. Slamming back into you, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you up, pulling your back against his chest. This position was beyond uncomfortable for you. He kept one hand on your side, but the hand that was previously digging into your scalp was now wrapped around your throat, all of this happening from behind.

It amazed you how much lower body strength this man had as he continued thrusting into you at a speedy pace. You were beginning to reach your limit, and he was as well. This became obvious to you as soon as you felt his cock begin to twitch inside of you. “Even if your parents.. ugh.. fucking hate me..” He trailed off, moving his head towards your ear as he licked the shell of it. A low growl emitted from his throat as he removed his hand from your side, soon placing it onto your stomach as it slowly trailed down to your sensitive parts.

“..Once I knock you up, they’ll have no choice but to see me as a part of their family.” His fingers began mercilessly rubbing at your nub, urging you to hurry up and release. His words were fucking horrifying, but the way his cock hit your cervix and his fingers rubbed at your clit, you couldn’t even comprehend what he was telling you. Suddenly, your body tensed, as you reached your climax and lubricated Kuroo’s cock with your cum. With the clench of your hole, Kuroo followed shortly after you, pumping his thick, sticky semen inside of you.

Loud panting and heavy breaths sounded throughout the room as Kuroo reluctantly slid his cock out from your hole, watching your combined fluids begin to drip down from your hole to your leg. Once Kuroo released his grip on you, you collapsed onto his couch. You couldn’t care less about the cum covering your lower half and probably staining his furniture. You were exhausted.

The sight of you panting heavily with cum splattered all over your lower half was enough to make Kuroo’s cock begin to twitch again. Towering over your collapsed body, Kuroo placed his head into the crook of your neck and smirked.

“Now, who said that we were done here?”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Notting Hill AU Snippet #6

When they finally leave her brother's house, Lena is simultaneously exhausted and wired. Exhausted, because even a good time takes it out of her, and yet wired because the world's most famous woman is right next to her on the sidewalk, nudging shoulders as they walk down the block. It makes for a heady combination, which is the only reason at all that Lena finds herself rising to Kara's challenge of climbing over a wrought iron gate to the garden beyond.

"For the record," she huffs, struggling to find purchase with her bare hands, "I am not dressed for this-- whoopsie daisy!"

What the FUCK did she just say?

"What did you just say?" Kara echoes, her smile audible in the dark.

"Nothing," Lena brushes off as she resets. "Just, trying to get a decent foothold-- whoops!"

She slips again, and this time Kara laughs, the sound loud and musical. "You said whoopsy daisy. Like some mid-century housewife--"

"You keep distracting me!"

"From what? Another whoopsy daisy?" Kara nudges her aside, dusting off her hands. "Step aside, miss priss. Watch the professional work."

Lena obeys, turning her head aside to avoid her nose brushing a very toned, very firm ass as Kara shimmied her way up and over the fence in one try. Lena's mouth goes dry at the smoothness of the motion, and the way Kara's arms strain against the slim cut of her blouse.

Kara may be an actress, but she's clearly no waif.

The woman in question grins at her from the other side of the fence. "You know, you say you're not intimidated by a silly rule, but I think there may be some subliminal hangups..."

Lena scowls. "Oh, like hell."

Boots scrabbling against the fenceposts, Lena hauls herself up through sheer willpower alone. By the time she lands on her feet on the far side, Kara has disappeared further into the garden. With a quiet curse, Lena brushes herself off and straightens her hair before trotting after her.

"Wow..." Kara breathes when Lena catches up. "It's like it's own little world in here."

Lena watches her observe the garden, noting the way her eyes sparkle in the faint light trickling in around them. The field they stand in is lush beneath their feet, and even in the dark the scent of fragrant flowers fills the air.

Kara makes her way over to a bench, and reads the inscription on. "To June, who sat on this bench every day. From John, who always sat beside her."

Lena smiles at the sentiment, and the way Kara's voice softens as she reads it. It's beautiful, and she says so.

"I guess some love does last forever," Kara remarks, half to herself. She sits on the bench, smoothing her hands across the wood as if to ask its owners for the privilege. After a moment, she notices Lena watching. "Come sit with me."

Lena does, and they spend the night with Kara's head on Lena's shoulders, looking at the stars.

---

The next night, they go on a proper date. Or at least they try to, except Lena can't find her glasses and Querl is absolutely no help in finding them, so she watches the entire movie through the prescription lenses of her snorkel mask.

Luckily, it only makes Kara laugh, even if it earns Lena a couple handfuls of popcorn in her hair from being pelted. Afterwards, Lena takes them to her favorite sushi restaurant, and makes a show of ordering in Japanese.

"Arigato gozaimasu," she finishes, handing over her menu. When she looks across the table at Kara, she's pleased to see she's impressed.

"Now how did you learn Japanese if you've never traveled?"

Lena shrugs. "I may have dated a few travelers in my day."

"Uh huh," Kara deadpans. "What else did they show you?"

Looking up, Lena lets a lascivious grin curl her lips. "Maybe I'll get to show you."

Lena revels in the fluster that marks Kara's acceptance of the sake that comes a moment later, and marks the red blush that heats under tan skin. The conversation shifts away, but continues, and Lena lets it, content with the impact she's made.

As the meal winds down, they linger a little bit, trading information they haven't shared yet.

"What's the one place you want to go, above all others?" Kara asks.

Lena sighs. "I don't know." Kara looks at her suspiciously, and Lena lifts her hands. "I could give you the same tripe I give any customer in my shop, but the truth is, the idea of travel has never really been the destination for me."

Kara looks surprised at that. "Oh?"

With a hum, Lena nods. "For me, it's always been more about who you're traveling with. And for a while there, I thought I had someone, but she never wanted to go anywhere. In the end, it turned out she just never wanted to go anywhere with me."

It still aches. Her split with Veronica had been so sudden, it split Lena's entire entire world apart. It had been bad enough to learn that Veronica had well and truly checked out of their relationship long before she ended it. To hear that Veronica had never really been in it in the first place had--

"Then she's an idiot," Kara says, bringing Lena out of her thoughts back to the present day. She reaches across the table, and links their fingers together. "And it's her loss."

Lena forces a grin. "Funnily, that's exactly what my therapist said..."

A round of raucous table from the table behind them drowns out whatever else she might have said. Glancing over, Lena registers a group of young to middle aged men in suits-- likely stock brokers, in this part of town. They were rowdy even when they came in, but now--a round of sake later-- they're downright obnoxious.

The next one who speaks doesn't bother to mind his words or his volume.

"Give me Kara Danvers any day."

Kara meets Lena's eye across the table, rolling her eyes as his buddy chimed in.

"Didn't like her last film. Fell asleep as soon as the lights went down."

"Don't care what the films like-- if it's got Kara Danvers, it's fine by me. I mean, have you seen that ass."

Lena's jaw clenches. Kara's hand slips away, as does her gaze.

"Oh hell yeah," another one continues. "And you know she's just begging for it. Never wonder how she got that gig in Dirty Dancing, did you?"

"It sure as hell wasn't because she could dance!" They all laughed. Lena shifts in her seat, blood boiling, but Kara catches her eye, shaking her head no. Too late.

Lena rises to her feet and marches to the offending table. "Excuse me, boys, but every single person in this restaurant can hear you. And while I'm perfectly happy to watch you reveal yourselves to be the absolute cunts you are, I take exception to the fact that you're talking about a very real person in the process."

The table stares at her, shocked.

"You." Lena glares at the worst offender. "Does your mother know you debase women with the same mouth you use to kiss her on the cheek? How about your girlfriend, though I find it incredibly doubtful you've managed to shag anyone with that kind of charm."

Kara tugs on Lena's arm, trying to pull her away. Lena almost goes, but turns back at the last minute, nearly colliding with the server hurrying in with the table's paid check.

"Actually, I'm not finished. Until each and every one of you learns a woman's favorite song, color and five year goal, you sure as hell don't get to wonder what flavor condom she prefers, you got it?" Her gaze lands on the platinum credit card in the ticket tray, and smirks in triumph when she sees it's a corporate card.

"And I'm sure that Lord Holdings will be thrilled to hear all about how their employees behave while they're out eating on the company's dime."

At that, the man she'd skewered a moment ago finally recovers enough to scoff. "Hah, and what do you care? What are you, her sister?"

"Actually," Kara speaks up, coming to stand beside Lena. "She's my date."

Dead silence follows as every single one of them registers who exactly is speaking. Finally, one of them tries to sputter an apology, but Kara waves it off.

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. I'm sure it was just joking between friends, just as I'm sure your dicks are the size of peanuts. Enjoy your dinner!"

With that, Kara turns away, snagging Lena's hand as she does. Allowing herself to be towed away, Lena flips them the vee and grins, then joins Kara in trotting out of the restaurant.

As soon as they hit the street they both start to cackle, drawing stares as they laugh maniacally. Lena's heart is pounding, as is Kara's, judging from the way she holds a hand against her chest.

"Oh, my god... I-- I've never done that before!" Kara laughs. "I don't know what came over me!"

"What, standing up for yourself? You're a natural!"

"No, you were amazing! I dunno, I just heard you and I saw you facing off against them all alone, and I just-- did that! I just did that!"

Kara laughs again, and Lena tugs her closer by the hips. Pressing a kiss to her lips, Lena smiles at her. "It looks good on you," she purrs. "You should do it more often."

Kara smiles back at her, rubbing her thumbs on the ridges of Lena's hips. "Maybe I will."

Lena could kiss her again, but Kara steps back, tugging them back in the direction of the hotel. "Walk me home?"

The walk back is spent in comfortable silence, but as they near the marquee of the Ritz, Lena's heart starts to pound for a whole new reason when Kara turns to her. "Wanna come up?"

Lena nods. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Kara gives a small of relief, and smiles. "Good. Give me five minutes."

The next five minutes are the longest of Lena's life. But she waits them, hands jammed into her pockets, and counts every second before finally allowing herself to head up to the room.

When she knocks, she isn't entirely sure what to expect. A robe, maybe, left open to reveal tantalzyingly firm abs. Matching lingerie, even, to match Kara's eyes.

What she doesn't expect is Kara fully clothed with panic in her eyes.

"You've got to go," Kara whispers.

Lena freezes, but keeps her smile in place. "Why?" she whispers back.

"Because my boyfriend, who was in America, is in fact here in the next room."

previous / next

[putseraphinaonthaphone]

She Said 'I love you' and My Dick Got Hard | Group Chat AU HCs

cw// high sex, soft sex, love confessions, d/s and poly dynamics, creampies, cuddles

Shinsou

waits until Dabi and Shouto have their time with you before whispering in your ear one morning when you wake up in his arms "Sleepy Sunday?"

you nod and turn so you can nuzzle his throat, and even though you're sore from the insatiable appetites of your other three boyfriends you find yourself pushing closer and closer to him

"aren't you going to ask me?" you mumble against his skin as your kiss his pulse point

"if you have something to tell me, then tell me. I'm not going hold your hand through this baby. Not this time. You have to be a big girl use your words and look me in the eye."

he doesn't rush you, but when you push him back and straddle him feeling his morning hard on beneath you as you start to grind over him he looks surprised but.. pleased

"I love you, Shinsou. I want to be yours, and wake up to you for the rest of my life," after doing this three times it was easier to say the vulnerable words and you never stopped grinding down onto him, knowing he won't mind if your confession is a little breathless the more you get turned on by the intensity of his eyes on yours

"You're so fucking stuck with me now," was his only reply as he flips you over so he can push you panties to the side and with a quick push of his sweats down his hips he's inside you, groaning into your ear "again, tell me fuck again"

"Daddy! Love you, love you so much," you cry out as he starts fucking you with more intensity than he ever has, and you're overwhelmed in the best way when his hands clamp down on your hips and he growls

"no running, ever. not when you're finally, truly mine. good little girls don't run from daddy's love," and you're nodding even when you're cumming until you cry

and your pussy is a mess of your slick because Shinsou is still fucking you

he's biting and sucking hickies onto your neck and savoring every breathless plea for a break, that it's too much, and simply shushing you by murmuring "this is how daddy wants to love you, you love me don't you? then take it"

and you think after he fills your pussy with his cum once you're done, but suddenly your boyfriend who claims he has as much energy as a rock is the energizer bunny, and when he pushes you into a mating press before rutting into you once more you realize you're well and truly fucked

Dabi

Is first one to start pounding on the door the next morning, anxious to get his hands on you and spank you raw for pulling this shit and making him wait

Bakugou opens the door with just his jeans on and a glare, but Dabi is just as pissed and you sigh at having to be the reasonable one this early in the morning

"Kat, fair's fair." You call out softly as you sit up and rub your eyes clutching the sheet to your chest halfassedly, and fuck if that doesn't make Dabi want to fuck you right now so you stay soft and pliant for him

"Fine. I love you baby, text me okay?" The blond relents after a moment, coming to kiss your temple before giving one last dirty look to Dabi on his way out, closing the door behind him

Then Dabi's on you and your smile is like looking at the sun because he's stunned, and instead of the usual urge to fuck you until you cry, he just want to make you feel so good you can't hide your feelings

"Dabi.." your voice saying his nickname makes him smirk, but he leans in close and whispers in your ear, "Touya. My name.. is Touya. I want you to say my name when we're alone okay?" you nod and watch him with so much love in your eyes

He was like an older brother to Shouto because Sho's dad mentored him as their next door neighbor who exhibited a lot of raw talent, and you knew it went horribly wrong- to the point that it usually triggered him to hear his real name after Sho's dad spit it at him while beating him up for not controlling his quirk enough

So to have this trust placed in you made it a little easier for you to try and start, "Touya.."

But you were cut off by his mouth on yours, because in the end, he didn't need the words. He read every emotion in your eyes like he always did

And he hoped you knew he felt the same, so deep it felt like loving you was in his bones

So you were the first person besides Sho to see Touya be gentle

He stretched you on his fingers while he made you cum with his pierced tongue, and to your surprise (and to your pussy's delight) he praised you, "perfect little pussy from my perfect little girl, couldn't have asked for a better 'I love you gift'"

And you were gasping because it was the first time he said the words out loud, and fine, if you liked the words that much he'd give them to you

"I love you doll, from your smart ass mouth to your tight ass pussy.. and your pretty little ass," he pressed a teasing kiss to your tight rosebud (and if Katsuki hadn't ignored your embarrassed squeaks when he personally cleaned you out in the en-suite bathroom so he could fuck every hole full of his cum, you know, to mark you as completely his 'little fuck toy' as he grumbled in his sexy ass deep voice of his) you would have tried harder to get away, or at the very least not moan out

"fuck me there, Touya, please.." which was basically asking him to toss gentleness out the window, but damnit you loved him with all his rough edges, and you knew he loved you too even if he fucked you like a whore

"You let that fucking-" his jaw clenched and instead of continuing he simply barked out the order, "face down, ass up."

You didn't need to be told twice, and you spread your knees wide so he could see your ass and how wet he made you without obstruction

the sound of him spitting registered with you a second before the nasty wetness of it his your asshole, and you jerked at the filthiness of it even as you bit your lip to keep from moaning

but you couldn't keep quiet when his hand connected with your ass with a resounding CRACK!

"you're going to have to make this up to me you know," he said with a eerily steady voice, and you whimpered - nodding against the sheets and wiggling your ass in apology (even though you couldn't regret the way Kat had made you cum with his cock in your ass his his skilled fingers on your clit with a few slaps to your pussy thrown in the mix)

"anything" you looked at Touya over your shoulder and even though your eyes fluttered closed for a minute when two of his fingers pushed his spit into your ass at once with a stinging stretch, you did your best to keep your eyes on him as you did you best to make it up to him

"even since, hhng, ever since you took me there the first time, I can't help but like it so- so much, love it- love you-" you confessed as he stretched you hastily, because he wanted it to hurt a bit as he taught your ass once more who its master was by branding the shape of him into your guts

"is that so? I turned you into an anal slut 'cause you love me?" he teased even though his hand was flying over his fist as he watched you fuck your tight ass back onto his fingers while telling him how much you loved him

maybe if you didn't sound so sincere while you were looking like a whore he could resisted the urge to fuck you into a wheelchair

but you did, you were genuinely in love with him like he only dreamed because who could love someone like him? so to see you looking him in the eye even as your bottom lip trembled and tears clung to your lashes while his thick fingers stretched you ruthlessly for his cock, and trying to smile as you called him Touya and told him you loved him made him lose it a bit

so you were left crying out his name loud enough for the whole house to hear as he fucked your tight ass open on his pierced cock, and fuck you thought you could cum just from this

"you will, you're going to remember why I'm the one that made you love it in your slutty, perfect fucking ass." Touya groaned and you could've laughed deliriously at the thought that he fucked the honesty out of you

but all you did was nod and try to keep your voice steady while he railed your ass as you answered sweetly, "I will, love you! I'll be g-good,"

and everytime he thought you'd safeword, because he really was pounding you too hard for you to like it right? but you just moaned like a fucking whore when his balls slapped against your empty pussy and he pulled you onto his dick with his inescapable grip on your hips, you just sobbed out a "love you!" instead

you squirted so hard when you came you had to change the sheets

Shouto

not exactly sure where to begin, so he's grateful when you just kiss his cheek and suggest a wake and bake when you wake up to him instead of Touya in bed with you (he'd left a blunt and a text that he expected you to keep in touch for the next time you want to get soft on him)

you cuddle up to him, starting to feel like you'd be permanently sore between your legs, and after a few rotations he has to ask, "you meant it?"

"every word, I love you Sho," you answered honestly, because he looked so vulnerable and unsure that you had to let him know you were his without hesitation

"but-"

"no buts, just, believe me. I love you." you murmur firmly and you press your chest into him, knowing how much he likes them

"I will do anything," you stressed the word with a pause to lick your lips teasingly, "to make you believe me. Anything, Sho. Because I'm yours like you're mine."

Why did it make him hard that you were always so willing to let him use your body in every perverted way he every dreamed of?

"lay on your back, I'm going to fuck your tits and you're going to stick your pretty tongue out for me okay?" you grin up at him and wink as you pull the sheets away from you and let your naked body be taken in by his heterochromatic gaze

his dick is hot between your tits, and his precume starts leaking onto your collar bones as he orders you to hold them together so he can thrust between them

you love that you can watch him fall apart, and you find yourself speaking so sweetly and encouragingly.. motherly

"that's it, love you so much baby, I'll always do whatever you like, spoil my baby huh?" and now your chest and throat are covered in his pre, and his thrusts are starting to get manic and desperate, groans turning breathless in a way that makes your cunt clench hungrily around nothing

"gonna, fuck, gonna cum on your face, show you exactly how much I love you-"

"do it Sho, I'll take it for you, just for you cause I love you so much baby-"

and then ropes of his cum hit your jaw, your cheek, your lips, and the bridge of your nose before you finished jerking his seed onto your tits before he collapsed beside you with extremely ragged breath that made you feel smug

until he got up two minutes later eager to give you more of his love, and you got fucked in your extremely sore pussy until you were crying and once more leaking cum

[menofchaos]

Coco

Photo credit IG @richardcabralofficial

Note/Warning: This was not requested but was inspired by this Tiktok trend, reading @woahitslucyylu​‘s soft reader series and @angelreyesgirl​ talking to me about Coco smut. I hope you guys like it!

Santana walked into the break room of the salon to find Andrea and another coworker, Sophia, giggling over a phone. A smooth, sultry beat played quietly from the speaker.

“Morning,” Santana called.

“Hi Tana,” Andrea waved her over, “Come look, have you seen this trend on Tiktok?”

“She would kill it,” Sophia said to Andrea, “She’s so hot.”

Santana laughed softly, “Thank you,” she walked up behind the women as the beat started again. The video showed Andrea in comfortable clothes, walking to the doorway. She posed and as the beat changed, the screen changed to a red filter. Andrea’s clothes were off and all that was visible was her silhouette. Her back arched as she posed.

“Damn, that was hot,” Santana took her bag off her shoulder, “How’d you do that?”

“I’ll send you the tutorial on how to make one” Andrea told her, “You have to do it.”

“I’m not posting that shit,” she laughed, “My dad will find it and that’ll be ugly.”

Andrea shook her head, “No, not to post. Send it to your man when he’s not around. Look at this.”

Andrea swiped the video away to the texts from her boyfriend.

David Holy shit 😳 omw

Santana smiled, “He would like it,” she admitted.

“Yes, do it!” Andrea exclaimed.

“And show us,” Sophia teased.

Santana smiled as she received a few texts from Andrea, “Alright but you gotta do it too,” she told Sophia, who agreed with wide, excited eyes.

~

A few days later, the women were all working together again.

“I made it,” Santana told them after Victoria locked the front door, “I haven’t sent it yet.”

Andrea gasped, “What? Why? Let’s see it!”

“I did too,” Sophia admitted.

“Because he would’ve demanded I go home right away and I had a full day today,” she laughed as she took out her phone.

Sophia opened her video, “Let me play mine first because Santana’s is gonna be so much hotter.”

She shook her head, “Not true but go ahead.”

“I sent it to my girlfriend,” Sophia giggled, the video playing. Andrea and Santana clapped as it finished.

“Damn, that was hot,” Andrea shook her head, “I don’t think mine is as good.”

“Yours was perfect,” Santana reassured her.

Andrea nudged her hip, “Your turn.”

Santana pressed play on the video where she was in an oversized shirt and sweatpants. She backed into the doorway and arched her back, one arm leaning against the other side of the doorway. The beat switched and the red filter covered her body, her curves highlighted. She moved so her forearms rested on either side of the door frame, her legs spread as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.

“You win,” Andrea held her arms up, “Damn, girl.”

“Send it now, I wanna see his reaction,” Sophia giggled as Victoria joined them.

Santana pulled up her text thread with Coco.

Mi Corazón *Attachment 1 Movie* I made you something 💞

“Is he working?” Andrea asked her as Sophia caught Victoria up, playing their videos again.

“He’s off by now, he’s probably with his brothers,” Santana explained.

Andrea’s eyes widened, “How many brothers does he have?”

She smiled softly. Nobody at work knew Coco was an MC member but she knew the three women were loyal and the newly disclosed detail wouldn’t leave the room, “He’s part of a motorcycle club,” she admitted, “So he’s probably at the clubhouse.”

“Ooh,” Andrea teased, “A bad boy.”

She laughed, “Nah, he’s good,” her phone buzzed in her hand, “He answered.”

She opened the text as they gathered around to read his response.

Boyfriend 💞🔥💋 Better get that ass to your place. Now. Don’t play with me. And don’t even think about posting that shit online.

“Oh shit,” Victoria giggled, “You’re in trouble.”

“Santana’s gonna come in tomorrow with a limp,” Andrea clapped.

Santana laughed and put her phone away, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

~

As Santana pulled into her parking spot, Coco dropped his cigarette and put it out. He stood up straight, watching as she walked over to him.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?” she asked.

Coco held a hand up before she could touch him, “Get inside and I’ll tell you.”

She unlocked her front door and walked in, setting her bag down. She gasped when Coco’s body covered hers, his hand on her chin and his mouth on hers. She moaned against his mouth, their tongues dancing as she gripped his hips.

“That video...fuck,” he whispered, “You’re so sexy.”

She giggled as he kicked his shoes off, pushing her jeans and panties down her legs quickly. She unbuckled his belt when he kissed her again, rubbing her slit.

“Wet already, you thought about what I wanna do to you?” he murmured as she moved his boxers and jeans down just past his ass.

“Yes,” she licked her lips as he stroked himself a few times, spreading her wetness along his shaft. He nudged her clit with his tip before sliding inside her, “Coco...”

“This what you wanted?” he held her chin and jaw, kissing her roughly as he thrusted into her.

“Fuck yes,” she locked eyes with him, “Don’t stop.”

He rested his forearm against the wall next to her head. Her eyes fluttered closed as she arched her back. She smiled when she felt his lips on her neck.

“I missed you,” she gasped when he bit her neck, clenching around him.

He groaned, “I’m yours all night,” he tugged her earlobe.

Santana shivered and he kissed her again, his hips moving faster when her grip got tighter. He let go of her jaw to rub her clit.

“Come with me,” she whimpered, “Please.”

“Go ahead,” he panted, pressing deep as he came, growling her name. Her nails dug into his ass cheeks, clenching again as she came. He pressed his forehead to hers as they caught their breaths, “I’m not fucking done with you.”

Santana giggled quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed her. She whined when he pulled out and headed to her room, taking his kutte and shirt off.

“Come here, I need something to eat,” he called.

She stumbled as she took her own clothes off as she walked, trying to catch up to him. She found him completely naked and still hard. He nodded to the bed and she took off her bra, crawling onto the bed.

He caught her thighs before she could roll over, sliding his tongue along her slit. She gasped and gripped the sheets, feeling his tongue circle her clit.

“Baby,” she breathed, whimpering when his grip on her thighs tightened.

Coco didn’t stop until she finished twice. He turned her onto her back and smirked, stroking his shaft with a tight fist.

“Do me a favor, querida,” he murmured, smirking, “Hold your thighs to your chest.”

Her eyes widened but she did as he asked. He moved closer to her, watching her. She closed her eyes when he sunk into her again, her body trembling.

“Coco,” she bit her lip, “Fuck, you feel so good.”

He pushed his hair back before his hips moved fast and hard, his eyes locked on hers. She whimpered, digging her nails into her thighs. She couldn’t look away. His skin glistened with sweat as he kept fucking her. He leaned down and kissed her hungrily, forcing himself deeper inside her.

“Coco,” she cried, “Oh fuck, right there.”

He ran a hand through his hair, groaning when he felt her clench around him, “Baby, you’re gonna make me come if you don’t relax.”

Her back arched and she gasped, “I c-can’t.”

He smirked, licking his lips as he moved a hand to her throat, pounding into her. Her cries turned to screams and her body shook when she finally came, his own orgasm starting only a few seconds after hers. He pulled out of her slowly and helped lower her legs to the bed.

He laid down next to her, watching her catch her breath. He smiled when she finally opened her eyes, “Wanna smoke?”

She nodded and grabbed a blunt and lighter off the nightstand, her legs still trembling. She handed it to him and watched him light it. Once he took a pull and passed it to her, he turned on his side and rested a hand on her thigh. He grinned when she flinched.

“I can’t stop shaking,” she laughed softly, still slightly breathless.

She coughed as she let the smoke out and he kissed her softly, “I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled, “I love you too.”

“For real, you didn’t post that shit online, did you?” he asked, making her laugh harder.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Cry Little Sister Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, non-consensual drug use, sex pollen, non-con, both reader and Peter are adults, kinda slight incestuous undertones (the characters aren’t related, though).

Words: 2805.

Summary: Your adopted older brother is not as nice as he seems, but no one is willing to believe you.

Part 1

__________

"No, Peter... s-stop." You moaned, half-asleep still as you felt somebody snuggling closer to you from behind. "Go away... No."

The boy beside you only hummed contentedly, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck and clinging to you. God, how did he sneak into your room? You not only locked it, but also moved your wardrobe to block the door. Even if Peter could somehow force the lock, how did he move back the wardrobe without waking you up? It was impossible.

Yet here you were, laying on the bed with your older adopted brother holding you like a big toy. Although you knew it was wrong and you had to push him away, strangely, you felt too groggy to move as if you simply couldn't fully wake up. What the hell was happening?

"You feel so soft." Peter's voice sounded gentle when he caressed your belly through the fabric of your pyjamas, trailing little kisses down your neck. "I want to sleep with you like that every night."

You groaned in response, trying to move his hand but failing miserably. "Ohh, fuck off, Peter. You're my brother."

"Yeah, and you should let your older brother do as he pleases." The soft murmur made you suddenly moan while the boy started slowly massaging your breasts, pressing his thumbs to your nipples and drawing a loud sigh from you. "Yes, like that. I'm gonna make you feel real good, baby girl."

You opened your eyes and moved away a little from him as you felt Peter letting go of you, but he just crawled down, separating your legs and getting in between, pressing his nose to your crotch covered by your pyjama pants. His warm breath made you squirm, but his hands on your thighs held you in place, making it impossible for you to escape. What was he doing? Before you had a chance to ask him, Peter pressed a kiss to your mound and rubbed his face against it. Was he moaning?

You reached out to his head and attempted to push him away, but it felt like you had no strength left in your body. For some reason, waking up this morning seemed almost impossible.

Peter had already tugged the elastic of your pants down, licking his lips at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him and leaning closer to have a lick. You mewled at the pleasant feeling of his wet tongue on your skin. Shit, it was so good.

Gently sucking your clit and touching it with his teeth just a bit to make you shiver, Peter used his fingers to caress your folds as you quickly grew wet, your breath becoming ragged. What would your parents say if they saw you two like that?

"Peter, please, stop." You whispered to him, pleading the boy to stop. "I'll... I'll tell dad."

For a second he detouched himself from your pussy, licking his lips and letting out a chuckle. "I bet he's gonna be happy you finally have a decent boyfriend."

You clenched your teeth as Peter returned to eating you out. Shit, it was so good. He was so good, licking you, sucking, kissing, making you go crazy with his tongue dancing in between your lower lips and then sticking it inside your core while you grasped your pillow in your hands, moaning like a fucking slut beneath Peter, your lovely older brother who kept stalking you even when you moved out from your parents' house and went studying in college. Oh no, no, it shouldn't feel so good, it shouldn't f-feel...

"Aaaahh!" You let out a high-pitched whimper, feeling you were getting close and bucking your hips. Suddenly, Peter stopped, flashing you a grin after he kissed your clit. "No, please!"

"You want to cum, sweetheart?" He cooed lovingly, rubbing circles on your mound while you tried riding his hand to finally reach your orgasm. "I'm so sorry, but you have to say you love your dear brother if you want to cum. Will you say that, dear?"

"N-no, I can't." You shook your head, keeping your eyes close and whining as the boy withdrew his hand completely. "No, Peter, please, I need to cum, I need to!"

"I know, sweetheart. You gotta say how much you love me and I'll make you cum." His taunting whisper was making you even more wet. "Want to cum on my tongue, dear? Want me to lick your pussy clean, huh?"

You bit your tongue, hoping the pain would make pleasure fade away, but the boy only smiled and kept teasing your clit with his fingers, watching you shake your hips again when you tried to make him speed up. Nevertheless, he refused letting you come before you said the right words, and with that delicious pressure building up so fast he made you go insane.

Next minute you couldn't take it anymore, pressing his head to your crotch and whining, "I love you, Peter! I love you so, so much!"

His devilish green made you want to straddle his face as the boy snuggled closer to you, his two fingers getting inside your aching core while he sucked on your clit, speeding up more and more while you moaned on the top of your voice. It was so good, so tender and sweet as Peter kept eating you out while his other hand was on your thigh. Your legs felt numb, and suddenly the tension inside of you broke as you cummed, screaming his name and grasping his dark disheveled hair.

You cried out your bliss when Peter kept drinking you juices gushing down your thighs, pinning you to bed. He licked you clean, smiling and kissing your lower belly as you were slowly coming down from your high, staring at the white ceiling above you. Oh shit. You let him eat you out, and you weren't even sure you didn't want it.

"You could ride my face every morning if you wanted to." Peter murmured to you, getting up and clinging to you. His kiss felt warm, and you could feel your own taste on his tongue. "I love eating out my little sister's pussy."

"Peter, you're gross." You grunted, closing your eyes and pressing your head to his chest. "Stop saying that like we're related."

"Isn't it more fun that way?"

You sighed, feeling the boy dropping a kiss to your forehead. Everything was odd, starting from the way you woke up and finishing with that weakness you still felt, unable to move. That bastard did something to you, right? Oh God, having him visit you was a really bad idea, and you cursed youself for believing Peter's words he would do no harm to you.

Well, technically, he didn't.

"Do you wanna fuck?" He murmured, rubbing himself against your lower belly and kissing the top of your head. You looked at his slightly pink face, knowing you don't have enough strength to push him away. "Come on, sweetheart, I wanna have some more."

"You're out of your mind." You answered and felt so damn good when the boy kept rubbing his cock against your swollen clit.

"I'll fuck the shit out of you sooner or later anyway." He chuckled darkly all of a sudden, his lips on yours before you could protest. He loved seeing you like that, a boneless mess beneath him, warm and unable to fight him. Cuddling with you like that before having sex was the best thing he could ever have, he thought, clamping your ass with his hand and deepening the kiss.

Shit, were you growing wet again? You had just cum.

"Wait, wait, Peter." You inhaled loudly when he let go of you. "Why are you doing all this? We've agreed if I play your little sister, you'll be good to me."

"That was when you were in school."

The thick, already leaking with precum tip of his cock was slowly entering your throbbing pussy as you whined, Peter's arms preventing you from moving away again. Shit, he was serious. He was going to fuck you.

It was easier to take him after such an intense orgasm, but still a bit painful, and the boy stilled, letting you get accustomed to his length while he was kissing you feverishly. A coil was tightening in your belly again, your body growing hot. Damn, you adopted brother was having his way with you, and you just layed there, moaning and unable to move. Why did it feel good? Why did your body welcome him?

"You're such a good girl." He cooed, and you tightened around Peter, drawing a quiet moan from him. "See? There's nothing scary. When I make love to you it feels so nice, right?"

You groaned at him, irritated, but bit your lips when he moved inside you, forcing you to clench the bed sheets. He was right, it felt so good to have him inside, rubbing the sensitive walls of your pussy as Peter pounded into you, watching your expression change. It was making you even weaker, forcing you to feel yourself so small and helpless with him on top of you, his gaze dark and receptive. It was making you feel like all you wanted was to be taken care of, stop protesting, and relax while Peter was making love to you, looking at you so possessively and lovingly at the same time. God, what was this boy doing to you? Why did it feel so good?

"Tell me you love me." He suddenly asked, pressing himself closer to you and kissing your face. "Please."

He sounded so needy, biting his lips as he stared down at you. For a second you felt pity for him, snuggling closer to you and asking you to give him at least a little love. Sighing, you twined your arms around his neck and reached out to him, pecking his lips. The boy stilled on top of you.

"I love you, Peter." You said quietly, looking into his deep dark eyes, still refusing to believe you were going to say it. "You scare me, but I think I do."

For a minute you just stayed like that, staring at each other's faces and feeling your warm bodies touching. With his arms on your pillow, Peter wasn't forcing you to stay beneath him anymore, yet you didn't move, watching him, your gaze hazy. When you blinked, you suddenly saw his eyes watering and realized Peter was crying.

What?

He turned his head away immediately, but it was too late as you furrowed your brows at him, laying your hands on the sides of his face. Why was he crying? In the middle of having sex? Was it one more of his tricks to make you pity him or something?

"Peter, look at me." You demanded as you turned his face to you, watching his eyes getting red as tears were streaming down his face. He didn't say a word to you, but you thought he looked... ashamed. Unwilling to show you this side of him. Confused, you gently wiped his cheek with your fingers, unsure of what to say.

As he couldn't bear looking at you, the boy clinged to you, hiding his face in your pillow and slowly starting to move despite still crying a little, and you squirmed beneath him. You couldn't stop him - not that you wanted to do it at this point - but wrapped him in your arms, trying to give him some comfort. Did you do something wrong? You had never seen his eyes wet before except that time when your father accidentally stepped hard on his foot.

"Shhh." You cooed softly at him as Peter slowed down his pace a bit. Caressing his hair as if he were a little boy, you kissed his cheek and heard him sob. Oh dear, he was really crying. "It's okay, Peter. I don't like things you're doing, but you're my family. You will always be."

"Don't you like it?" He whispered as he thrusted partically hard, and you mewled, biting your lower lip. "Like that?"

Moaning, you closed your eyes as he sped up again, kissing your face with his swollen lips, his balls slapping against your pussy with a lewd sound. You didn't know what he had given you last evening, but this thing made you so much more sensitive you couldn't stop mewling, melting from his touch, wanting Peter to do it more, your head still clouded.

"Peter, ahh!" He was becoming more and more relentless, kissing you, hiding his tears. "P-peter, I like it... I like it so much... but it's not right." His tongue tentatively danced with yours as he deepened the kiss to keep you quiet.

When you orgasmed again, the boy kept thrusting down as he chased his own release, growling lowly at the feeling of your sweet pussy tightening around him. Soon he finished too, freezing on the spot as you milked him dry, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing heavily. Despite your worry that he finished inside, he coated your thighs with his hot sticky seed and groaned, finally falling down on your bed.

You spent a few minutes in complete silence, listening to each other's heartbeat slowing returning to normal.

"I thought you didn't care." You whispered to him when Peter cuddled with you again, his hands caressing your back. Your gaze travelled down your body as you looked at his cum glistening on your skin.

"Of course I do." He said, averting his eyes. "I know what you think of me, but I do care about you."

There was desperation to his voice as the boy hid his face, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You thought he was hugging you like a kid. God, were you seriously warming up to him? Peter was still creepy as hell, and you were pitying him now.

You sighed, burying your fingers in his soft hair and closing your eyes. You had no strength left to try proving something to him - or yourself. You would think about it later, you decided. Now you only wanted to rest.

In a minute or two Peter had finally let go of you, and you felt cold without him by your side as you shivered, covering yourself with a blanket. The boy smiled at you, taking a pack of napkins from your table and snatching a pair. Then he returned to you and carefully put a blanket aside, gently wiping his seed from your thighs. You didn't expect any aftercare, but, apparently, Peter could be way more considerate than he seemed.

"What are you going to do after?" You asked, eyeing him with curiosity.

"Mm? I'm going to return to bed and sleep with you for a couple of hours." He smiled, and you rolled your eyes.

"I mean what are you going to do after that? Do you think you could keep this a secret from mom and dad?"

His smile became even wider, and the boy chuckled, leaning closer to kiss your belly.

"Not sure about dad, but I think mom knows about you and me. Like, she knew from the start." You really wanted to smack his head to wipe that stupid smirk from his face, but his gentle kisses made you too comfortable to react like that, and you simply gave him a pat behind the ear.

"I'm not buying it, Peter. She would never let you do this to me."

"Well, maybe she doesn't know about this yet. But she had definitely accepted what we feel for each other."

"Peter, you're mad. You're my older brother."

"Adopted older brother, that is. Biologically speaking, we're doing nothing wrong."

As he grinned at you, throwing used napkins into a bin and getting back to bed, you just sighed loudly. He was damn impossible.

However, it felt so good when he leaned to you again, covering both of you with a blanket and murmuring something quietly in your ear while you relaxed against him. His warm little touches here and there were pleasant, and you involuntarily pressed your lips to Peter's temple, making him grin.

"You do realize once I return to normal I'll try to kill you for all this?" You asked tiredly and yawned, getting yourself comfortable on the bed. "What did you give me?"

"Don't worry, it was perfectly organic!" The boy hurried to explain and you shushed him, asking him to be quiet as you were slowly drifting off to sleep. "The effects will wash off soon, so you'll have a chance to murder me in cold blood when you wake up."

His gentle laugh was the last thing you heard before you finally fell asleep, your head on Peter's chest as he caressed your hair lovingly.

____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskaty @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

No Letting Go

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Coco Cruz x Black!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Coco has been your best friend and rock since childhood. You’re having a problem learning to share him with the club, specifically a certain club member who happens to be your ex who you may or may not still be in love with.

Warning(s): 18+ only, smut (the sex!), foul language

Word count: 3,493

Author’s Note: This is for my fellow girls who’s love language is talking shit LOL. Also I’ve made this fic pre-season 1. EZ is in jail. This was two parts before I just decided to make it one fic. So it might be a little disjointed BUT just go with it okay? I’ve missed y’all and I hope you like this. Hopefully I’m not too rusty. Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome. My inbox is open. Enjoy!

Your childhood wasn’t the most stable, drive by shootings and cracked out parents didn’t exactly leave room for normalcy, but there was always one constant for you and that was Coco. His mother was also an absolute train wreck. You guys kind of grew up taking care of each other. You remember Leticia being born while he was in jail and trying to talk some sense into Celia about giving the baby a better life. You remember when he got out of jail and joined the Marines. Just as you got him back, he was gone again. It was extremely hard not having him around, but it forced you to really take care of yourself. No more Coco to lean on. You only had yourself.

So after high school, you went to cosmetology school and got yourself a beauty license. You’d taken care of your hair for years and it’s important to you to teach others how to take care of theirs. Natural hair, wigs, weaves, braids, or whatever. You helped your clients with it all and showed them how to keep up with their hair. You got a job at a local shop and you were taking care of yourself. Things were good but you missed your best friend.

Then he was back. Coco was discharged from the military and you thought you’d have him all to yourself, but then he was telling you about joining the Mayans and you barely heard from him for months. Well, you weren’t just about to accept that shit.

You banged on the front door, “Coco open the fuck up! You know who it is! Open this damn door, Johnny!” You yelled, as you pounded your fist against the door.

The door whipped open and Coco stood there with an irritated look on his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Don’t bang on my door like that. You know better.” The look on his face as well as the growl in his voice would have terrified anyone.

You just stared at him before breaking out into a smile. “I missed you.”

Some of the irritation left his face and he actually sighed at you. It was the closest to a pout he’d ever get. “Yeah, yeah. Get your ass inside.”

“I hear you grumbling, but this is what happens when you keep ignoring me. Imma stay on yo head boy!” You told him, walking into his living room before sucking your teeth when you saw who was there.

Angel. Reyes.

It was bad enough that Coco joined that damn club and was busy being their prospect. It’s been even worse since he’s basically become best friends with Angel, who happened to be your ex boyfriend. Well, maybe ex fuck buddy was better. He started to push for more and as someone who hated being cornered (and someone with serious reservations about his lifestyle) you broke things off with him. It was infuriating. You finally got Coco back, but he was taken away from you again and with the one person who you wanted to avoid. Feelings were still there, but you hid them by egging him on. Were you acting like a kindergartener pulling someone’s hair they had a crush on? Maybe. Using sass to hide your emotions? You’re a pro at that. Coco had no idea about y’alls past.

“Don’t you have your own place to live? Why the fuck you always over here?” You questioned, setting your purse down in one of the empty chairs.

“Hey! Don’t start Y/N.” Coco interjected, already knowing where this was going. It was equal parts exhausting and entertaining watching those two go back and forth.

“I do. I just like being over here. It’s more opportunities to run into you.” Angel replied from where he was sprawled out on the couch. He had a cap sitting backwards on his head, a gray sleeveless shirt on, jeans, and his legs spread wide.

“You giving off real scrub vibes right now.” You rolled your eyes at him before directing your attention back to Coco. “So where you been? See when you don’t return my calls you make me have to pop up on your ass. So wassup?”

“Nothing is up. You gotta chill. You know I’m prospecting with the club now. I got a job at the scrap yard and everything. I’m just busy living.”

“Mmmhmm...so you’re too busy for me now?” You asked, letting the spoiled brat come out of you a little before deciding it was safer to just change the subject. “ANYWAY, Leticia texted me.”

That caught Coco’s attention. “Why? What’s wrong? Is she okay? What the fuck did my mom do now?” He asked, worry clear in his tone.

You waved your hand to dismiss his concerns. “She’s fine. She has a school dance coming up and she wants me to do her hair. I think perhaps you should drop by and check on her, maybe have a small discussion about the birds and bees…” You implored, and he immediately began shaking his head.

“Nah. You should do it.”

“I’m not family.”

“Yes, you are. Plus you’re a woman. Y’all can talk about shit I don’t get.”

“It would still be good for her to have a male’s perspective. One to tell her how a respectable gentleman acts and better yet, shows her.” She has always pushed for Coco to spend more time with Letty. She knew it was hard from him, but she knew the girl truly loved her older brother.

“Who the fuck is Leticia?” Angel asked, clearly confused.

“His sister.” “My sister.” You and Coco answer at the same time. You both maintained eye contact as you basically glared him into submission. Your eyes conveyed the words you’d never let slip from your lips. ‘Spend some time with your fucking kid, Co’ was the thought written clearly on your face.

“Fine, I will stop by and check in.” He conceded and you smiled widely again. You loved it when you won.

“Y’all are so cute.” Angel teased, a small smirk on his face because he knew it would get under your skin.

The small smile on your face was quickly wiped away at his words. “Shut up. That’s my brother. Period.”

“I still have a chance then.” His smirk turned into a grin. He loved getting a rise out of you.

“Psh.” You scoffed, the retort leaving your lips quick and snappy. “A chance in hell.” 

“Then I’ll meet you there, sweetheart.” He always loved that fire in you. He missed not having it around as much. He felt bad about keeping the relationship from Coco, but he figured he’d bide his time for now. He still wanted you. He could remember the nights spent laid up in your bed as he watched you braid your hair or helped you lotion your body. His favorite thing to do was lather you up because it always led to him knocking your walls down.

You stood up from your chair and walked to where he was seated so you could stand over him. Your hands were on your hip and you just stared at him for a moment. He was so blasé about everything. You wanted to make him stumble just once. “Eat shit, Angel.”

“Only if it’s yours.”

You wanted to laugh so bad. He had such a quick wit and y’alls banter was something you have yet to experience with anyone else. Still, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so you turned away from him to keep your smile in check. “You goofy as hell. I don’t have time for this shit. I have appointments. Just needed to make Coco promise me to my face.”

“All that whining about me not returning calls or having time for you and you can’t even stay and hang? You’re so fucking fake.” Coco chuckled and you laughed as well.

“Don’t hate. I do what I gotta do. Walk me out bestie.” You grinned, walking toward the exit and grabbing your purse on your way out.

“Bye mamí.” Angel yelled at you and you merely lifted your hand to give him the finger. His answering laughter warms you up and you can’t help throwing him a look over your shoulder.

Coco walked you out the front door and closed it behind him.

“If you think that ‘tough bitch’ act is putting him off you’re so wrong.”

You stare at Coco with your eyebrows raised giving him that ‘you should know better’ look before going, “Who is acting?”

“Alright, Y/N.” He just shook his head and decided to let y’all figure it out. No way was he gonna jump in the middle of that. He knew it would resolve itself eventually.

xxxxxxx

The next time you got to see Coco things were an absolute mess. You don’t know exactly what happened but the gang got into a shootout. Coco was injured and your heart was beating against your chest so hard as you raced toward the scrap yard. This was out of your comfortable zone completely, but you needed to see that he was okay. 

Even though on the inside you were freaking out, you tried your best to keep a calm outer appearance as you came face to face with the gang. You went through the basic introductions and then you found yourself crouching in front of a passed out Coco.

“He always said he didn’t really have family so we didn’t know who to contact until Angel told us about you.” The president explained, as you studied the bandages on Coco’s chest. 

You tore your attention from Coco to look at Angel and saw him already looking at you. It was like he was studying you. You gave him a small smile, trying to convey your gratefulness that he contacted you. He just nodded back at you.

“Thank you all for everything you do and did for him.” You looked back at the president, Bishop, and all the other guys.

“He’s our brother.”

“He’s my brother too.” Your gaze went back to Coco, a soft look on your face that made Angel want to just wrap you up in his arms.

Luckily the bullets just grazed Co and nothing vital was hit. You could only sit still for so long before your anxiety got the better of you and you stood up, striding out of the door. You inhaled deeply once you felt the fresh air. 

You would have been so heartbroken if Coco had died. Just the thought made your hands start shaking. You curled them into tight fists and closed your eyes as you focused on slowing your breathing. Your eyes only shot open when you felt someone touch your elbow.

“Hey, you okay?” Angel asked, his eyes soft as he gazed at you so you diverted your eyes.

“I’m fine.” You replied, the sigh you let out in the end betraying your words.

“You want a drink?” He offered and you perked up a little.

“So badly.” You admitted. 

“Come on.”

He led you to the little trailer that was parked on one side of the scrap yard. You wanted to say something smart, but you’d been to his home and knew he didn’t stay here. Plus your heart just wasn’t in it at the moment. He grabbed two beers out of the fridge and opened them before handing you one. You immediately took a big gulp of it.

Angel went to lean back against the fridge and you saw him wince. It dawned on you that he was also in the shootout with Coco. You were so focused on your brother because they said only he was shot, but Angel looked hurt too.

“What happened to you? Don’t tell me you got shot too.” You set the beer down and invaded his personal space. You lifted up his shirt and noticed some bruising there and your head lifted back up quickly to look at him.

“I didn’t get shot. Just got the shit kicked out of me.” Angel explained, staring at you as you fussed over him. 

You let out a loud sigh. “Well you need to be icing it and resting. I can’t have both of y’all fucked up at once.” You murmured, eyes dropping back to his bruises for a moment.

“Are you admitting to actually giving a shit about me now?” Angel inquired and you immediately dropped your grip on his shirt and took a step away from him.

“Don’t start this right now.” You pleaded. It was easy when you two were bantering back and forth, but his face was so serious. You knew the conversation was going to get heavy.

“Don’t start what? So you still want to pretend we don’t know each other? That we didn’t spend nights wrapped around each other for months?” He stepped closer and closer to you as he spoke. “That you didn’t become mi corazón before you took it all away? I’m tired of pretending.”

As he stood directly in front of you, you felt your heart racing. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You knew if you looked him in the eyes you would fold. He knew as well so his hands caressed your cheeks before bringing your face back up so you would look at him.

“I know you love me and I love you. We should be together right now.” He was beyond frustrated. This game has gone on for too long. He wanted you back.

“Why? For what huh? So in five to ten years you can get yourself killed and leave me a widow? So I can have another person I love ripped away from me? So all I’m left with is bittersweet memories? Nah. Coco is laying on a couch with bullet wounds at this very moment. Fuck that.”

“I never would have taken you for a coward.”

“I’m a coward for wanting to live my life with as little pain as possible? Fuck you, Angel.” Your eyes blazed at his words.

“No you're a coward because you’re scared to face the fact that you love me and want to be with me. I can’t promise nothing bad will ever happen, shit something could happen to you and it would absolutely break me. But I’m willing to take that risk. I promise to make you more than just comfortable. You deserve to feel loved, cherished, appreciated, and fucking happy. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. Don’t you want that?”

Tears filled your eyes and you closed them as some spilled over. 

You weren’t ready to have that conversation with him. Not right now. You wanted to feel good. Your eyes met Angel’s briefly before you were surging up and connecting your lips to his.

His arms slid down your back to attach themselves to your ass, pulling your body against him. You felt every part of him. He wasn’t too muscular, but he was solid. It felt good to be back in his arms. The kiss got more passionate as your tongues tangled with each other. He was a fantastic kisser.

He turned you around and propped you up on the one table in the trailer. Your hands worked his kutte off and you let your fingers run under his shirt and feel his chest again. His kisses ran down your neck and you moaned as he sucked on that spot on your neck. You began unbuckling his belt ready to feel him inside you.

“Eager huh?” He teased, his lips at your ear. You pulled back to look him in the face and stopped what you were doing.

“Oh I’m sorry. Would you like to sit down and talk about our feelings more or would you prefer to feel this pussy wrapped tightly around you?” You asked cockily, one eyebrow raised.

Angel looked at you and smirked. “Continue.” Shit, who was he to turn you down? He never really could. You got his jeans undone and your hand was in his underwear and stroking his dick while kissing his shoulder before he could say anything.

“Ah, shit.” He moaned, as you stroked his dick and felt it harden under your hand. You squeezed it a little just to see if his breath still caught in his throat and you smirked against his neck when you heard the sound.

“Don’t get cocky.” He whispered, rubbing your pussy through your jean shorts. Your hips jumped a little at the contact and you felt your panties getting more wet than they were before. He kept rubbing; the friction of your jeans and panties rubbing perfectly between your pussy lips had you squeezing your thighs closed. 

You leaned your head back to look at him. “You’re gonna ruin my jeans, stop it.”

It was his turn to smirk as he took a small step back, your hand falling off him. “Then let’s take them off.” He peeled your shorts and panties down, spreading your legs so far apart that your right foot slid out of your pants. Your shorts and panties dangled around your left ankle.

“Oh baby, that pussy is still as pretty as ever.” He popped two of his fingers in your mouth, slipping them a little down your throat so he could hear the always beautiful sound of you choking before he stuck those fingers inside of you.

“Fuck..” You groaned, your hand squeezing his arm. 

“And you still feel like Heaven. I gotta feel you around my dick again. That’s what you want right? You want me to fuck that attitude right out of you.” He asked, though it wasn’t really a question. He was just talking. “I know what you need, mami. Always have and always will.” He let his pants fall and in a quick and smooth move he removed his fingers and replaced them with his dick inside of you.

He had both hands squeezing your thighs as he kept your legs apart. He had you open wide for him. Your nails were digging into his arm and your other hand was bracing yourself on the table. There was so much in those thrusts. It was all his feelings in one. He was conveying how mad he was, how much he missed you, and how much he loved you. 

“Angel,” you moaned, head thrown back as you got lost in the feel of him. You couldn’t focus on anything, but him. He still knew exactly how to fuck you and drive you over the edge. Your stomach was in knots as you felt your orgasm building. He could feel it too and he slowed his strokes down to more shallow ones.

“Look at me.” He demanded, and you tilted your head down until you made eye contact with him. “Look at me fucking you. Look at me giving you what you need. I’ll always give you everything. All you have to do is ask. Tell me, mi dulce. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I-I wanna cum Angel please.” You begged, barely able to get the words out. You knew that he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He kissed your lips and sped back up his thrusts as the pressure built back up in your stomach. He kept kissing you, his tongue tasting every inch of your mouth as he fucked you. With a shaky hand, you reached down and rubbed your clit to push yourself over the edge.

You moaned into his mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm. As you clenched around him, the tightening of your walls around him helped to trigger his own release. 

Angel tucked his head in your neck and placed kisses there and along your shoulder as you both came down from the high. “Will you let me take you to dinner, mi dulce? Por favor.” He pulled his face from your neck so he could look in your eyes.

You didn’t shy away from his eyes this time. You held his face in your hands as you gazed at each other. His words echoed over and over in your head.

“You deserve to feel loved, cherished, appreciated, and fucking happy. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you happy. Don’t you want that?”

Mind blowing sex and one beautiful love declaration does not fix everything. You still had your reservations about the relationship. You were still scared. You were still worried. You were still unsure. But when you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but his love for you and his certainty. He was so sure it was you for him. You could picture a wedding and children in your future. Maybe even growing old together. Suddenly, you knew you wanted to try.

Don’t you want that?

With all that in mind, the answer was simple:

“Yes.”