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marvelfilth · 9 months

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Professional help (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, brief mention of Peter Quill x f!reader

Warnings: AU, gynecologist!Natasha, assistant!Wanda, smut, oral, fingering, cheating, Peter being an asshole

Summary: your boyfriend makes you see a doctor to get yourself "fixed", luckily Natasha and Wanda know exactly what to do

A/n: I'm not a doctor, so bear with me pls

Masterlist

You sit in the waiting room, anxiously waiting for your name to be called. Your leg bounces rapidly against the marble tiles of the clinic, drawing the attention of other patients. You cross your legs, sanding a sheepish smile to an old lady who's been eyeing you for the last few minutes, wishing your boyfriend just stayed with you like he promised he would.

He's the one who made the appointment after all.

You sigh for a hundredths time and check your watch, debating on leaving. Peter will be disappointed, sure, perhaps even mad, but you still can't stomach the idea of admitting something so embarrassing to a stranger.

You've been dating for almost six months now, and after a lot of persuasion on his part, you've finally allowed him to take your virginity. Your jaw clenches when you remember the night. It was very romantic, sure, the wine was expensive and as old as your grandma, the food was delicious and his jokes were perfectly timed, but when it came down to it, you were both left disappointed.

Peter is attractive, sexy, and you know any girl would kill to be in your place, but when he took off his clothes and climbed on top of your naked body you couldn't feel a thing. You went to sleep unsatisfied. He went to sleep with a bruised ego and a promise of getting you right the next time.

And now you're here, ready to see a gynecologist, because there has to be something wrong with your body, there's no other explanation.

"Y/n Y/l/n?" A voice pulls you out of your head.

You look up to see a young woman, smiling down at you politely, her green eyes sparkling in the blinding lighting of the hospital.

"Yes?" You speak up hesitantly, torn between following the woman and trying to make it for the door.

Her smile turns genuine. "Follow me."

You walk behind the woman, your eyes pinned to the intricate braid, strands of brown hair clinging to her neck. You swallow, looking away. It's definitely not the time to stare at a pretty woman. She leads you to the last door down the hall, opening it and following behind you once you step in.

"Take a seat." She gestures at the chair in front of the doctors desk. You swallow nervously when you notice a gynecological chair behind a folding screen.

The woman squeezes your shoulder

"Don't be nervous. Dr. Romanoff will take good care of you," she says with conviction. For some reason it helps you relax, your shoulders dropping. "My name's Wanda," she says, "I'm Dr. Romanoff's assistant. I'll be here the whole time."

You gulp. "Like… the whole time?"

She smiles, mirth flickers in her eyes.

"Yes, the whole time." Another voice enters the conversation and you crane your neck to see the woman striding into the room to take place in the white leather chair behind the desk. "Is there a problem with that?"

She eyes you intently. You feel like it doesn't matter what your answer will be, Wanda will stay either way. And now, looking at the stern looking woman you feel like you'll need Wanda's soft reassurance. Maybe that's why she's here in the first place.

You shake your head at last, not trusting your voice not to waver.

"Good. Now tell me what's bothering you." The redhead flickers through your medical file, barely sparing you a glance.

You look at Wanda for help and she sends you an encouraging smile, her hand sliding lower down your arm. "Um…" you start, not sure how to broach the subject. "Well, you see, me and my boyfriend, we-" you swallow nervously, and Wanda takes hold of your hand, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. "We've been intimate… a few times. But it seems there's something wrong. With me, I mean." You cringe, biting your lip.

You can feel their gazes on you.

Dr. Romanoff's eyes narrow dangerously and you feel like getting up and running away.

"What do you mean by that, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, her breath fanning your ear.

You gather your courage and meet her eyes. "I can't- I can't finish." Now that you've started, the words come out easily. "I mean, it doesn't bother me, not really, but my boyfriend-"

"It doesn't bother you?" Dr. Romanoff cuts you off. You feel small under her eyes, ready to fold in on yourself.

"N-no?"

She sighs heavily and closes her eyes for a moment. You feel like a child about to get scolded.

"So you're here because your boyfriend can't make you come." The words leave her mouth the second her eyes open.

You flinch, scooting deeper into your seat. Wanda wraps her other arm around your shoulder, softly nudging you to continue.

"He- he told me he's never had that problem before, and I… well, when I tried it myself, you know…" You look at Wanda and she nods in understanding. "It didn't work either, so he must be right. Can you help me?" Your cheeks are crimson red by now, you can feel how hot your face is.

Dr. Romanoff stands up abruptly, making you flinch. She walks behind the folding screen and you can hear her fiddling with something. Wanda squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and tells you to follow her. You do so without a second thought.

"Take off your clothes," Dr. Romanoff says, settling on a rolling stool.

You gulp, folding your arms in front of your chest. "A- all of them?"

Dr. Romanoff looks like she wants to roll her eyes before stopping herself and looking at Wanda, her brow quirking. You can feel Wanda inhale sharply behind you.

"Yes, sweetheart, all of them." Her tone's urgent. "You need a thorough examination."

Dr. Romanoff smirks at that, shaking her head almost unnoticeably.

"You heard her." She nods at you.

You look around for a spot to undress, but figure it doesn't matter if they'll see you naked anyway, so you hesitantly start to undress under their scrutinizing eyes.

"Let me help." Wanda's fingers skimp over your skin as she helps you take off your bra, your nipples hardening from the cold. Dr. Romanoff's eyes dart to your pebbled skin, her lips parting slightly.

And then Wanda cups your breasts from behind you, whispering, "I'll start right now, okay?"

You can only manage a small nod.

Dr. Romanoff must've noticed the state you're in, because suddenly she's kneeling in front of you, tugging down your pants along with your underwear, humming at the sight of a string of your slick connecting to your panties.

You close your eyes in embarrassment.

She cups your face. "No need for that, angel. You're doing good."

You shudder at the tone of her voice, slurty and breathy. Having no idea on why your body is reacting this way, you lean back against Wanda, granting her more acces. She massages your breasts, kneading and tugging until you're left breathless.

Then, as quickly as she came, she pulls away and nudges you into the other woman's arms. Dr. Romanoff leads you to sit on the chair and you swallow your embarrassment when she spreads your legs and puts them on the knee rest, sliding between your legs on her rolling chair.

You look away, wincing.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Wanda whispers from your side, taking hold of your hand, "Natasha is best at what she's doing."

You breathe out.

You think her name fits her very well.

"How long does it usually take?" You ask, not daring to look away from Wanda.

Faint scraping noises sound around the room as Natasha writes something down in your chart, humming in thought. She hasn't touched you, not yet.

"Not long, usually, but you're here for a special reason, aren't you? So it's going to take a bit longer," Wanda says quietly.

You nod in understanding, finally looking down to meet Natasha's eyes. She's holding a speculum. You shudder, backing away. Wanda pins you in place with a strong grip on your shoulders.

"Please, don't. Can you use something else?" You ask. Biting down on your lip, you look at the redhead pleadingly. The last time a doctor used that thing on you, you were hurting for days.

"I don't think there's anything else I can use. I promise I'll be gentle," she tries to reassure you, but you shake your head no, gripping Wanda's hand fighter.

"Please, just use something else. There should be something else, right?" You plead.

Natasha's eyes flicker to Wanda, a silent question swimming in the emerald pools. After a tense moment she gives the younger woman a brief nod. She slides away and Wanda leaves your side, taking Natasha's place between your legs.

Dr. Romanoff takes hold of your face, gaining your attention. "My assistant needs some hands-on practice and this is a perfect occasion, since you're adamant about the speculum. You don't mind her using her fingers, do you?" She rubs your chin gently, coaxing you to agree.

You wet your lips, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. Natasha's eyes follow your tongue, her pupils dilating. You nod your consent and Wanda wastes no time in spreading your folds open and teasing your entrance. Your hips jolt violently.

"Try to keep still, sweetheart, or we'll have to restrain you." Wanda fingers glide around your folds, barely grazing your clit and you're already drenched and gasping for air. "You're doing good so far, angel, keep it up." Wanda smiles softly, gently easing one of her fingers inside.

You bite back a moan, gripping the cushion below you with all of your strength. Natasha keeps taking notes, occasionally glancing down at your pussy and exchanging quiet words with Wanda.

Wanda's finger pumps into you at a gentle pace, hitting a soft spot deep inside of you.

You didn't even know you could feel that good.

When her finger curls you let out a loud moan. Your hand flies down to take hold of Wanda's, but it's intercepted by Natasha's, who pins you back down with surprising strength.

"You're not allowed to move, remember?" She scolds. You nod dumbly and relax in her hold. She nods in satisfaction and looks at Wanda. "One more."

Wanda obeys and slides two fingers in the next thrust, pushing down on your hips with her other hand. You try not to squirm, but your legs still shake from the way her fingers curl inside you. Your eyes begin to water as your stomach tightens, you feel like you're about to explode.

"How does that feel?" Natasha's whispers against the shell of your ear, her hair tickling your neck.

"G-good, so good," you whine, desperately clutching the chair.

"Mhm," she hums, putting her hands on either side of your breasts, rubbing the skin in soft circles. "You're taking Wanda so well, kotenok. Make me proud and hold it for me, okay?" She asks as her hands cup your breasts, pressing down on your nipples.

You don't have to ask to know what it means, you just shake your head desperately, not daring to touch her. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, making your vision blur.

"Please, Natasha, pl- ah!" You cry out when Wanda adds another finger, stretching you out deliciously. She thrusts into you hard and fast, making your body move up on the chair. "I can't-" you bite down on your lip, pleading Natasha with your eyes. "Please, let me come."

The doctor chuckles with mirth, rolling your nipples between her defty fingers. "Stop."

Wanda pulls away immediately, making you whimper. You want to cry out, you want to tug her back, but you do none of these things, obediently laying back and waiting for Natasha's instructions.

You pussy clenches around nothing while Natasha takes her time stepping around you and taking Wanda's place, the younger woman coming to stand near your head, wiping her fingers.

"Natasha's gonna take a good look at your pussy, sweet girl, just don't move."

Dr. Romanoff's fingers slide in without any struggle, immediately making you whine and buckle your hips in her hold. She spreads her fingers inside you, opening you up even more and you feel like you're about to burst from the stretch. You moan loudly when she adds a third finger.

"Keep quiet," she says, pinching your inner thigh.

You swallow back moans as she starts circling your clit with her thumb, the added pressure sending shivers down your spine.

"Such a perfect body," Wanda murmurs, trailing her fingers down the length of your torso. "You deserve to be worshiped." She leans down and licks a long stripe from your ribs to the underside of your breast, sucking the tender skin there.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers burying in her brown locks. She hums softly as her arm slides along your waist, holding you tight.

Natasha doesn't waste another second waiting and sets a rough pace, thrusting her finger deep and spreading them with each thrust. "Look at you, malyshka, your greedy pussy is swallowing my fingers," she smirks, bending down to kiss your inner thigh.

"Natasha!" You cry out loudly, your back arching. Lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently, and you choke on your moan, your pussy clenching around Natasha's slender fingers.

"You're doing good, baby, so good," Wanda mumbles around the pebbled skin, "You deserve to be filled to the brim. Fuck, you'd look so pretty with both of us deep inside you, sweetheart."

Your hips buckle to meet Natasha's thrusts and this time she doesn't stop you. She curls her fingers, hitting a spot you didn't even know existed and you come, your orgasm hitting you hard as spots of white cloud your vision.

Natasha's fingers don't stop moving inside you, if anything she thrusts faster, rougher, your sensitive clit pulsing rapidly.

"We're not done until I say we're done, got it?" She leans down to wrap her lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks, fingers moving inside you with a violent pace.

Wanda releases your nipple with a wet pop and focuses her attention on your neck, teeth leaving purplish marks on the tender skin. You cry out, another orgasm fast approaching and Wanda pulls you into a bruising kiss, your moans disappearing between her full lips as Natasha licks long stripes up your slit.

"You're doing so good, baby. Fuck I want to make a mess of your pretty face, sweetheart," Wanda whines and takes hold of your hand, pushing it past the waistband of her scrubs. You follow her lead and soon your fingers disappear in her wet heat. She gasps and bends to rest her weight on you as you quickly pump your fingers inside her.

Natasha pulls away to admire the scene in front of her, fingers lazily circling your clit before she plunges four of her fingers back inside, stretching you to the brim. Your back arches as you moan loudly, clenching around slender fingers. Wanda comes with you, burrowing her face into your neck as you both come down your high, gasping for air.

Dr. Romanoff presses a kiss to your thigh before gently prying strands of hair away from your face. "We'll have to schedule a follow up appointment, kitten."

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat #black widow smut #scarlet witch x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #professional help

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millyhelp · 5 months

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Lock the door.

DILF!Dick Grayson x wife!fem!reader

Request: hiii!! I love ur work for dick soooo much I'm actually foaming at the mouth😵‍💫 I was wondering if u could do these prompts 35. “Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear. Trying to tell me something?” 21. “Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.” with dilf!dick fucking his wife after putting their kid to sleep. thank you!!

warnings: boobsmilk kink!, breeding kink!, p in v sex, Dick called the reader "mama". Johnny is 2yo here. 18+ minors dni!

notes: I had to do this as a request and not just as a prompt! I just loved the idea!!

Taglist: @harleycao , @spectr3inl0ve , @sparklytoaster

You and Dick were putting Johnny to sleep. Today was one of the rare occasions where Dick arrived home from the station early and spent some extra time with Johnny and you.

“Lavenders blue, dilly, dilly. Lavender's green. When you are king, dilly, dilly. I shall be queen…” Your voice sounded sweet throughout the room, making the little boy sleep.

Dick watched the two of you closely with a smile on his face, he felt like the most accomplished man in the world. His eyes couldn't help but notice the blue pajamas hugging your body. He sighed and got up slowly so as not to wake Johnny and walked over to you on the other side of the boy's small bed. Dick needs you tonight.

He extended a hand to you and before you took it, you kissed Johonny's forehead and turned off the lamp. Taking Dick's hand, he guides you out of Johnny's room and closes the door silently.

The hand before yours takes place on your waist and guides you to the bedroom. Dick's bare chest presses into your back as the two of you walk to your shared bedroom.

Upon arriving at the bedroom, Dick plants a kiss on your neck and runs his nose along the extension shortly after.

“My favorite..." He finally said something and his voice sounded hoarse and low. You smiled and turned to look at him.

"Yes, the Chanel you gave me for my birthday." You giggled. Dick always loved the smell of perfume on you, and of course, you only wore this one for him. “I missed you…”

Dick’s hands went directly to your waist again, this time, pulling you into him.

“Yeah?...” He kissed your lips “Did my beautiful wife miss me?”

“Mhm” You looked into the intense blue eyes.

“And how much did she missed me?..." Dick's eyes looked at your mouth and your eyes waiting for a response.

“Why don't you find out?" You looked at his lips.

Dick attacked your lips in a needy way. His tongue dancing next to yours brought whimpers from your throat.

Dick's hands began to roam your body, squeezing, pinching and pulling. At some point he puts both hands on your ass inside your little pajama shorts.

“Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear.” His mouth was swollen from the kiss. He looked into her eyes, the pupils taking over the blue. “Trying to tell me something?”

“Yes... I told you to find out how much I missed you." Your fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck. "Does that answer your question?"

"Oh yes, that does." He nodded his head with a smile. Still with his hands on your ass, he pulls you up to give you momentum so you can jump onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He carried you to the bed and laid you down on it. Kisses were planted on your neck. Nimble fingers began to unbutton your pajama shirt so he could have more access to your collarbone.

“Oh God!” Dick groaned "No bra? My prayers have been answered."

You gave a small laugh. Dick loved your breasts, especially because you still breastfed Johnny sometimes. The little boy was only two years old and only nursed in the afternoon, but today, for some reason, Johnny didn't want to.

Your breasts were swollen and round from the milk. Dick could swear he felt drool run down the corner of his lip.

“Can I?” Dick looked into your eyes. His eyes sparkled with lust and anticipation.

When you nodded, Dick's lips closed around your left breast. The contact of his lips on your sensitive nipple made you moan.

Sucking the milk and licking the tip of your nipple, Dick felt high and very horny. His fingers guided themselves inside your pajama shorts.

He ran his fingers through her wet folds and moaned with his mouth on her nipple. Another whimper was heard from you.

“Hmm I need to fuck you!” He said after releasing your nipple with a 'pop' of his mouth. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. The scene was totally sexy. “Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want to Johnny walk in while I’m balls deep.”

You nodded and stood up. Dick slapped your ass as you went to lock the bedroom door.

"My wife is so sexy..." Dick looked at you as if he was going to fuck you, and he really was.

Walking back to him. Dick pulls on his pajama button-down shirt making them pop.

“It's okay, mama. I can give you another one.” And he was really going to give you another one, but before that, his lips went towards your right breast. This one he hadn't attacked yet.

Dick squeezed and the pressure of the milk in his mouth was greater. He moaned at the sensation. You could feel Dick's cock poking your thigh through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Dick, please.” You sighed. “I need you…”

Licking your nipple, he pulls away from your breast.

“Needing me, mama? Where do you need me?”

“Inside. I need you Inside.” Your hand passed over Dick's hard, needy cock. He trembled under your touch.

“Can you ride me? Huh?” Dick pulled up his sweatpants. He had no underwear on, which made his hard and heavy dick hit his stomach as soon as it was freed.

You nodded and took off your shorts. Straddling his lap, he fit the tip into your wet folds.

You slowly went down on his length. Dick and you always fit together. It was as if he was tailor-made just for you. His big cock, from the first time together, always filled you up.

A moan left your lips and Dick returned his attention to your breasts.

You started to move up, down and roll on top of Dick's cock. With one hand on your hip and the other on your other breast, Dick helped you.

"I'm going to keep you with my children... do you know why?" He grunted and looked into your eyes as you moved up and down. You shook your head. “So I can continue to suck that sweet milk of yours! You are so good to me, mama! So good!"

You moaned at his words. Dick could only imagine your belly being round and big again. You being sensitive and very horny during pregnancy. He wants it all again.

With his hands on either side of your hips, Dick helped you bounce faster on his dick. He felt you tighten more and more around him, the tip hitting the bottom of your uterus.

"Dick! Oh-Mhmmm!" You're close and Dick was too. Dick's hands still tightened on his hips.

“Close?” He asks and you respond with a whimper. “Good…”

Dick takes his hands to your boxes and he stands up with his dick still inside you. The grip on your thighs is firm.

He starts fucking you standing up. You weren't supported by anything other than Dick's strong grip on your thighs.

Deep and quick thrusts made wet noises thanks to the new position.

"I'm going to fill you with my children. Do you like how that sounds?" Dick grunted looking at your face which was red and sweaty. "Are you close, mama? I know you are. Cum for me! Let me feel you!"

Dick's pelvis hit her clitoris, causing friction. Your orgasm exploded hard and Dick came to you with grunts.

He sat back down while he still had his cock inside you. Your face rested between his neck and his thumb stroked your back to calm the spasms of your orgasm.

"You really missed me, mama." Dick whispered and you let out a small laugh.

“I did, and-”

Knock knock

A small knock on the door was heard, and soon after a crying voice.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Johnny's voice echoed behind the door.

“Fuck…” Dick sighed "I'll sort this out, lay in bed and I'll come clean you up as soon as I'm done with Johnny."

Dick pulled out of you making you shudder and he put his sweatpants back on.

In the end, Johnny just woke up startled by Mommy's screams. Dick took a while to convince the little boy that his mother was sleeping and that it was all his dreams. The two-year-old boy didn't stay long and fell asleep in Dick's arms.

Poor Johnny.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

I'm slowly coming back heheheh

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tonixe · 6 months

Text

mistress

a/n: Nothing for the moment, but I will try to set up a schedule for when I'm going to post my next fic so it can be organized. I lowkey love the mature version of coriolanus snow, he is like Daddy or like zaddy, just AHHHHHH.

warning: penetration, p in in the v, cheating, breeding kink, reproductive coercion, baby trapping, toxic dynamics, spanking, misogynistic coriolanus. (maybe considered as dark content)

pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

word counter: 2.4k

pt 2 of goverment hooker

taglist`` @slut4ethan

A few months passed, then years...

—since your sexual encounter with the gentleman you met at the bar, you had stayed on the low until meeting him, you wouldn't lie to yourself that your heart yearned to see him again, though being a peacekeeper couldn't guarantee if he was still here. Though you went back to your old habits, bringing in men and seducing them to fill your pockets up for sexual favors, you never felt anything inside the relationship. It was just a casual exchange for goods and pleasure.

If they were well fooled by you, they would do more to win your heart like gifting diamonds, jewels, fancy dresses, heels, and expensive, luxurious bags. With a card, always handwritten to you in black pen with a bouquet of flowers, maybe roses, peonies, or tulips. Usually red, or pink, colors that represent 'romance' or 'love'. You manage to catch on to when men would send you these gifts, you enjoyed being showered in lavish things but it would bore you a little,

Due to your interesting status, you manage to sneak into important parties, the fancy ones you like. The ones with champagne and the aged wine were expensive, the big chandeliers with jewels and diamonds hanging from them, and the huge halls with delicate porcelain vases and tiles. You got an invite from one of the fools of men you were messing around with, some known politician in Panem. Walking into the gracious hall, wearing a black cocktail dress, and some diamond jewelry given to you by your several misters, clutching onto your matching black purse.

Small chatter fills up the hall, as you steal a glass of champagne from the waiters passing it around. You still had to walk with the fool you tricked, holding onto his bicep lovingly, fluttering your lashes at him, and laughing at his empty 'witty' comments. "Darling, what is going on right now" You said, pursing your lips together, you knew he would answer your cute antics. "The new president of Panem is here," the man said, you looked at him, fluttering your eyes back at the new information. "Who is here, darling" You pushed your chest on his arm, starting to make him flustered with your inappropriate antics, "Sir Coriolanus Snow" he responded, your eyes widened at the family name, backing up from his arm. The name of the man you lay with years ago, "He's here?" you exclaimed, and he nodded. "Oh my," you stopped, "We will meet him, will we?" you twirled your hair, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

This would be your big chance, your chance at stopping boring yourself around useless men, your life would be filled with riches, a lavish lifestyle, and expensive jewelry. Even being the First Lady of Panem made you feel thrilled and better than fooling around with a stupid man who isn't faithful to their wife. "We will, my beaut," he said, before wrapping his around your waist, it made me feel disgusted. As we sailed across the halls, talking to other politicians and influential people, until we saw the devil himself.

Coriolanus Snow...the now-elected president of Panem. Your eyes sparkled in delight, though the encounter was long ago, he looked well-prim and mannered. He was wearing a red suit, a tucked collared shirt with matching dress pants, and his hair was longer than the peacekeeper's mandatory buzz cut. It looked like he was talking to another group of well-off people, you watched him as he talked to them and finished up their conversation. Before he walked away, it looked into the hall out of the ballroom. It was your chance to talk to him, maybe he'll remember you. Some part inside of you doubted but the other side was hopeful, "Darling, I need to powder up my nose, I'll be gone for a few minutes" You turned towards him, and he nodded. You clutched onto your bag and followed Coriolanus out of the ballroom.

Maybe just maybe he'll remember you, I mean how can he not. Not after a promise he made to you, well maybe a promise, you were too fucked to realize what he said but it was something.

It was awkward following him, would he think of you being a stalker, you weren't, you followed him until an empty hall before he stopped mid-way, "You don't have to follow me around, you know" He spoke, making chills run down your spine. Pushing back a strand of your hair over your ear, "You probably don't remember don't you?" You cocked your head to the side, you watched him as he turned around ever so gracefully on his heels, looking straight at you. Your cheeks flushed, he looked mature, rougher around the edges. His blue eyes iris looking at your e/c ones.

"Pardon?" He asked doubt starting to fill you up, "Not even the promise of you coming back to me, fill you with any ideas?" You cocked your eyebrows, giving him a little smile. Holding your hands together to your stomach, "Y/N?" his eyes widen at the new fact, "In the flesh" you smirked, raising your hands up. "You never were going to come back, weren't you" You faked a sad tone in your voice, flickering your eyes to your hands, walking up to him. He didn't respond, "Never thought a Peacekeeper would be the next President of Panem, " You rambled on, flickering your doe eyes at him, "So, how are you now?" you smiled, "I'm well off now" He responds, he put his hand inside of his pockets. "Well, I'm sorry what happened to your friend, I heard about the hanging" he sniffed, you watched if would tense up at the words, but he didn't at all.

"Well, he was setting up a rebellion against the capitol, so he would be punished for it" He finished, it was harsh for him to say that about a friend, you thought he cherished, it was a man that was from the capitol, never thought someone like that would care about district people at all.

"That was harsh, ain't it?" You pursed your lips, "No, it wasn't harsh enough" He said, his eyes flickering at you. You played with the bracelets on your wrist, "—And, you Y/N..." you turned your head at him as your name came out of your lips, "I have done my research on you fully"

"Oh really" you cocked your eyebrows, you were amused at what he was going to say, "Your the capitol's slut, a woman who slept her way through the capitol, with politicians, congressmen, and senators, how many do you trick for gifts and money" There was an odd tension between you it was thick, "Your right, but not as accuracy. I don't sleep my way through, I only trick, I'm not just a whore you know" you pouted and placed your hands on your hips. "So, does it make you think differently of me" You put your hand underneath his chin, surprisingly he didn't curve you or stop your attempt, his eyes looking at yours. Feeling his hands on the sides of your hips. "Not at all" He whispered, before he pulled you into a kiss. His tongue explored your cavern, and you felt yourself getting aroused by the hungry kiss. You knew your plan was bound to work, putting your arms around his neck, withdrawing from his lips. "We shouldn't do here, it would be improper" You looked away, feeling shy in front of him.

"The hall is going to be over soon, so tell your mister or whatever man you brought here to go home alone, you'll be coming with me" You felt his breath against your ear, making you feel sensitive underneath your dress. You felt his hands trailing your waist, "Alright" you flickered your eyes to him, "I will" you tracing the shape of his collar and coat.

The car ride was filled with tension, the car was luxurious though. You enjoy it very much. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks flushed. He was already wrapped around your fingers, it was an easy hook and reel. Feeling the car halting at a big manor, your eyes brighten up, "We're here" He stated, the door opening up for you, as you stepped out of the car, and walked with him inside the estate. The estate was beautiful, with blossoms, and freshly trimmed grass and trees around the houses. Stepping onto the perfect cobblestone path with him, you bit your lips at the thought.

The guard in front opened the manor's large doors, as you walked in, clutching your bag to your stomach. "It's a beautiful estate" your eyes darted around the luxurious manor.

"It is" he responded back, before looking at you, his heels trailing back to your front. "Let's go towards the bedroom" Your eyes brightened, as you felt his hands on yours pulling you into his chambers, your heels echoing around the large mansion. The door were closed by him and locked. He pulled you into a kiss, his hands rubbing your waist and your curves hungrily, the kiss making your knees feel weak. His hands trailing the zipper of your dress, you were too busy with his lips on yours to comprehend what was going on. Feeling the cocktails dress dropping and your lingerie being shown to him, as he withdrew. "You weren't going to show that guy, all of that were you?" He muttered, "No" feeling the strap of your bra falling to the side, "Not at all" you smiled, feeling his hands on your body, as he carried you. Your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, as he kissed you further.

He pushes you onto the enormous bed, his hands rubbing on you. His hands trailed down to your panties rubbing your clit harshly, making you mewl, "Corio" you whined, your chest heaving up and down. Finger dipping into you further inside, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers, you grind your hips to his hand, feeling your skin heat up, desperate for a release.

Squirming against him, "Your so desperate, aren't you" he mocked, His fingers plunging in and out of you several times making you feel immense pleasure. "Corio, please I'm close" you whined, feeling your hands gripping onto the sheets. Feeling a wave of pleasure coming down on you, squirting out. Your chest heaving, you looked at him withdrawing, his fingers dripping with your juices. Watching him lapping his tongue at his fingers, making you press your thighs together.

He took off your black panties, slowly. You lifted your legs as he fully took it off. "Take it all off, Y/N" He whispered, his eyes looking at your almost bare body, you clipped out your bra, dropping it to the floor, your breast being displayed to him. "Do you like them, Corio?" you fluttering your eyes at him, propping your chest up. You looked at his awaiting form, and your eyes dragged to his lower abdomen area tightened up in his dress pants. Cocking your head to the side, "I need you, Corio" you purposely slurred your words, "Please" watching him unbuckling his belt, and taking off his boxer before he mounted on top of you, your back on the bed. You spread your pussy lips for him to align himself in you.

Feeling him inserting himself into you, sinking into your clenching walls. Your throat ripped out a wanton string of moans, it felt like his cock got bigger, his cock stretching you out deliciously. His low growl tickled your ear before he started moving, massaging your inner walls. His cock fucking into your cunt, sloppy sounds filling up his chambers, everything feeling hot around you. Your plan was working out, no condoms just raw sex. You just need him to cum into you, and you were guaranteed to get something of Coriolanus. His hands on your hips as he thrust into you, feeling his cock brushing your cervix making you jolt, "Fuck" you cursed, opening your legs further for him, his pelvis slapping yours. His balls swinging onto your lower ass. You squirmed under his touch, his hands touching your chest. Rubbing your nipples, harding against his fingers.

His rough hands groped your chest, biting down on your lips. Your swollen clit, being abused with his hand and your chest. You choked out a sob, his brutal pace making you feel weak, your eyes dropping down. Your tongue lulled out, as he fucked into you, biting marks into your neck, chest, and stomach. Gripping onto your waist harshly, tears pricking on your waterline, his hands dancing from the swollen nubs of your chest to your neck, as he lightly presses, making you tense up holding his arm, your eyes rolling back, his hips rutting into you.

Your panting echoed through the room, his pace didn't stop at your tears going down your cheek, your black mascara bleeding through, your lipstick was smeared. Everything on your body was sensitive, "Corio, please—" you puff out, before he flipped you over, your face onto the soft pillows, your hips up in the air, the cool air hitting your pussy.

Before he continued to abuse your cunt, his hips fucking into you, his cock touching parts of you, kissing your cervix deeply, making you wail, the sheet already messy. His hair sticking onto his forehead, sweat dripping down from his body, your well-manicured nails grasping the sheet. "I'm close" He groaned, feeling his hands landing on your ass. Making you jolt, several of them onto the plush of your ass. The pain makes you squirm, your cunt dripping. His arms pulling you into a chokehold close to his chest, feeling hot thick liquid filling you up, looking at your flat stomach filling up your cum. Your doe rolling back at the sudden warm feeling that didn't stop. Before he released you, your body bounced on the bed.

Feeling him withdrawing from you, and cum dripping from you. your body trembling, feeling your legs numbing down. Coriolanus body on top of you feeling his soft member on your ass, "Don't even think about it" He whispered, pushing a strand of your hair over your ears, "I know that's what you planned for" He danced his fingers on your collarbones, 'N-no" you managed to stutter out, "Don't lie my dove, isn't that the reason you follow me or had your eyes on me" He trailed on, "I just missed you, Corio" you lied through your teeth, "Don't lie, it doesn't suit you.." he touched your chin.

"Why did you do it?" You mumbled, "How could I stop, it so hard not to imagine you swollen with my baby" He said, "Besides—

Thats all your good for"

526 notes · View notes

ryndicate · 1 year

Text

Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe

"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."

notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this

warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)

Rules/BYF/DNI

Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”

“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”

He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal.

But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.

Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”

He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.

“Why?”

The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?”

Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”

That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”

“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why.

“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”

“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.

He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”

The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."

Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job.

"See you tomorrow, sir?"

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him.

The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.

“That is not how this works.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”

“Give them back.”

“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”

Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.

You are painfully undeterred.

“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead.

“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”

You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”

Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts.

“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”

A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact.

Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.

“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”

“Yes, sir."

He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.

You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways.

“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head.

“I came of age a couple months ago.”

Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one.

Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”

"What's your usual?" You ask curiously.

"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong."

"Oh."

The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own.

"Not to your taste?"

"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."

"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort.

"Never had alcohol."

Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.

"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"

Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.

Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.

"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"

"You're not tired!"

Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.

Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."

"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing.

"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."

That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute.

"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.

"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow.

To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief.

"This sucks," you announce firmly.

Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."

He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him.

"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"

"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."

"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.

"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."

"Why?"

You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training.

He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are.

Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else.

"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.

You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see.

"'Cause I want to, sir."

"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense.

Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."

"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"

"Don't play coy with me."

You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side.

"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table.

Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"

Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."

Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you.

"And you're not goin' to tell me?"

Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."

Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul.

There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night.

Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."

So much for direct.

There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.

And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."

You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"

"Yeah. You've had plenty."

There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.

"What's that look for?"

"I was having fun, sir."

"Stop calling me sir."

"Why?"

"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Just Kishibe."

He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"

"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.

“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.

“Damn right.”

"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.

"Then yeah, drop the honorific."

"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night.

You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"

He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."

An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."

Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"

"'S a secret."

"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves.

"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."

Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.

Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.

He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.

The doors open into his “apartment”.

He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead.

Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.

“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”

“My place.”

“You live here?”

“Technically.”

He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.

“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.

“Yeah well, me neither.”

“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”

“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.

“No! ‘M just sayin’...”

“Yeah, whatever. Here.”

You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.

Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”

You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.”

Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."

The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.

“Pretty good lungs.”

“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.

“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.

“Hmph.”

You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”

Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.

He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”

“Night’s over. Time for bed.”

You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”

Sweet fuck.

“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”

Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him.

“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.

You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.

“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.

“You’re staying in here?”

He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”

“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.

Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.

You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”

“Well you need’ta try.”

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”

Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”

“So you spend the night at their place then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”

Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”

“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt.

“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.

“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”

“Kishibe.”

“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out.

His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”

“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”

There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”

He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him.

“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”

“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night.

Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”

“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him.

The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”

Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust.

“So…? Will you help me?”

He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”

You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”

“I’m not stern?”

“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”

“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.

Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.

“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”

Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”

"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.

Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.

He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now.

Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.

Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word.

"You want me to do this for you?"

"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.

"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.

"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.

"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?"

"Sir—"

"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye.

"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."

"You want me to choose?"

"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."

That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."

"Then please take care of me." Please.

This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."

He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.

Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”

He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.

Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”

“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence.

“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.

You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good.

“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.

You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.

Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.

Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade.

“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding.

“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.

“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.

The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making.

“Be more specific, sweets.”

But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”

An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”

This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease.

His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.

You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.

“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.

“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair.

You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day.

You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.

The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.

“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”

Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement.

"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.

Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it.

Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?"

You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart.

"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?"

Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently.

The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight.

When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?"

"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes."

"Tell me."

"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away.

"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.

“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo.

“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.

“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”

“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?”

You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”

“One to start?”

“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.

“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him.

It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.

“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.

“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady.

“Sit up for me.”

You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.

“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”

Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations.

Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish.

“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.

Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.

But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded.

“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”

The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.

His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.

Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”

“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.

One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.

You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.

Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.

He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—"

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.

"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please."

Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead."

You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that.

"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?"

"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface.

"If I press here you won't be able to stop it."

Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me."

Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar.

The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p—

"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit.

You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.

But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.

Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.

The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.

You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.

You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores.

Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance.

“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”

You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you.

“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”

Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall.

Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.

Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.

“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.

He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.

"I want that again."

His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen."

"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh.

"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again."

“So you regret it?”

Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”

"But then..."

"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me."

You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself."

"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh."

You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously.

"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly.

"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate.

"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.

"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature.

"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing."

"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out.

"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?"

You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.

"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.

Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."

It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far.

"Ya have to join the civilian sector."

He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.

"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.

Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."

"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him.

"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."

Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.

As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.

When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting.

“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.

“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”

Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”

You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.

“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.

Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”

Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.

He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”

You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.

“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”

#kishibe x reader #kishibe smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut

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sunshyni · 4 months

Text

big boy energy

Jisung × Fem!reader

notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous 😬 English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!

w.c: 0,7k

tw: none

I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!

Good read, sweeties!! ❤️

Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, “Her right dance partner will show up any minute”.

You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.

— Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed — Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.

It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.

You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.

— Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? — Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual — I've got a mission for you.

— I'm good, let's do it — Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.

— You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? — Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.

— I hate you both — You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancée, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.

— Did you miss me, shawty? — He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from “Shall We Dance?” while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.

— I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park — You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.

— I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.

— I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe — You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.

— I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true — Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids — Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?

You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.

— Like the old times, huh?

— But this time, I really wanna kiss you — Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.

— Andy...

— Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend — He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.

— When did you get this big boy energy?

— I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.

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abibliophobiaa · 3 months

Note

My sweet babes I'm so sorry allergies are kicking your butt rn ! My dear Luna , Can I pls get a small little look into what our gourgous buttercup and Eddie are up to ??

from the daylight universe

dad!eddie munson x mom!reader

requests are open (general requests for any eddie/steve and scenario, not just daylight ones)!

——

You tried everything.

A choo-choo train. A helicopter. An airplane. And none, absolutely none of the aforementioned options, intrigued your six-month-old. In fact, most of his mushy peas ended up everywhere but his mouth. Coated his high hair tray, his bib, his cheek — even his curly head of hair.

Because every time you went to offer a spoon to your son, his head turned at the last second, whiny cries spilling from pouty lips framed by chubby cheeks. Instead he was too interested in everything happening over his shoulder to even attempt trying a new food for the week, where mere feet away his older sister was playing air guitar with your husband.

“Eddie,” you grumbled, stirring him from his little concert, drawing his attention your way, “help?”

“What? Benny Boy doesn’t like his peas?” Eddie mused, slipping into the adjoined kitchen to press a loud kiss to Benny’s cheek, earning a gummy smile and the cutest giggle. Baby boy was enamored with his dad. “Someone is a little messy.”

He gestured to all the encrusted peas on every surface area of baby Benny’s feeding area. You huffed out a grunt as Elena barreled into your lap, never wanting to miss out on the extra attention of her parent’s.

“He’s your son,” you laughed, pinching at the bridge of your nose as Eddie dragged over a chair in front of Ben, “he doesn’t like anything green.”

“Mommy is being silly, isn’t that right?”

“Mommy always siwwy,” Elena giggled, earning a little tickle from her father before he turned back to his baby and waved the spoon near Ben’s pursed lips.

Ben, knowing what his father intended, pushed his head as far back as he could into the cushion of his high chair. Pushed his face into the furthest corner, eliciting an elongated whine.

“Daddy, sing song,” Elena said brightly, leaning forward in the circle of your arms to grasp at her baby brother’s hand currently waving angrily in the air. “Benny, vegebles make you grow big!” And then she turned to you as Benny broke into a louder cry of anger, “Mommy, why is he yelling?!”

Your hand glided down her head, brushing away some messy curls, “He’s just a baby; he doesn’t know any better. You used to cry when I tried to feed you foods you didn’t like.”

“I did?”

“All the time, sweet girl,” Eddie said, holding up the spoon to his son one more time. “Aww, Ben, come on, buddy.” Eddie cleared his throat, muscle in his bicep shifting as he tried one more time to spoon feed the baby, singing quietly, “Come crawling faster.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled at the sound of his father’s voice, head turning to face him. You grunted out a laugh, because both of your children danced away while they were still on the inside whenever Eddie sang to them. Figured now he recognized it and stood at attention.

“Obey your master.”

“I can’t look at you right now,” you laughed, bouncing Elena on your knee.

“Your life burns faster,” Eddie sang, and Ben giggled, bright and joyful, mouth opening wide enough for Eddie to shovel a bite in.

The moment of truth came in the form of Ben staring at you both, brows furrowed, a little bit of extra peas spilling out from his closed lips. Baby boy’s mouth moved, worked over the contents of his palate, and both of you waited on bated breath to see if peas would be on the menu for the foreseeable future.

Your answer? Food splattering from puckered lips, the sound of his normal bubbles he’d make, paired with the force of his breath sending green sputtering into his father’s face. Eddie closed his eyes, your own laughter unable to be stifled as Benny bursted out into loud, rising giggles.

“Da-ddy,” Elena trilled, her own laughter like little bells in your ears.

Eddie jerked his head over his shoulder, a little glum, sticky with baby food, grimace on his lips. “Not a word from you, Buttercup.”

“Got a little something…” you teased, thumbing at his stubbly jawline, “right here.”

——

“I feel like I still have peas in my hair,” Eddie grumbled later that evening, when both children settled down for a nap.

“Baby food is like glitter.”

You laughed, walking across the bedroom as he rubbed a towel over his wet hair, chest bare, gray sweats hanging low on his hips. Fingers slipped up and over his torso, forging a path over his shoulders, before your arms draped around the back of his neck to hold him close.

“Hi,” you whispered, leaning up just the slightest to press a kiss to his lips, “I’m happy you’re home.”

It had been a long couple of months. He’d barely made it in time for the birth of Ben, your contractions starting while they were just getting on stage for a concert, ramping up much quicker than they did with Elena. By the time you were allowed to push, Chrissy was there to hold your hand, moving out of the way only when your husband rushed in, still sweaty from his show, hair a mess, cheeks reddened like he’d ran from the venue.

You’d tried to come along to as many local shows as possible, but doing so with a newborn at the time proved difficult. Eddie had missed a lot of those first six months, a fact he grieved every day because neither of you planned for your second child to come a few weeks earlier than anticipated. But now he was home, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Missed me?” he teased, voice a low rumble against the curve of your neck, lips seeking out the places he knew had you preening for him in seconds. “Thought about you all the time while I was gone. My best friend, my wife, the mother of my children.”

His fingers dragged up the edge of your silky shorts, toying with the hem of your panties, along the wet spot already forming there, dragging a slow circle along your clothed clit. “Thought about you like this too,” he practically purred, forehead dropping against yours as you gasped against his lips, “when did Steve and Chrissy say they’re taking the kids?”

“Five,” you huffed out an exasperated sigh, craving nearness to him too. He’d only gotten back the night before, had walked over to your bed and face planted into it after holding both your babies tight until they’d gone off to bed. “And then it’s just us. And…a teeny tiny gift I might have gotten you.”

“Are you pregnant again?” His eyes twinkled at the thought, and you shoved him jokingly at the mere notion, though you’d love one or two more in the future.

“I’m going to need at least another year before we think about that — but no, it’s…” You paused, grabbing his hand to lead him toward the garage. “Remember how we’d both said we always wanted a dog?”

“Baby…” He couldn’t help the excitement in his tone, the way his eyes softened and then widened when he saw the golden poof of hair hidden in a box, a giant red bow around his furry neck. “You got me a puppy?”

“Shhh,” you giggled brightly, insides melting as your husband reached down to pluck the puppy from its box, “I haven’t told the kids yet. I wanted to show you first.”

Said puppy wiggled in his new dad’s arms, pink tongue rolling across his chin, his cheeks, his nose, making your husband burst out in laughter at the influx of pure love.

“Welcome home, Eddie,” you said, folding against his chest and patting at the puppy’s head. “I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head as the puppy leaned over to lick your nose. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

——

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 4 months

Text

In the dream, Dean walked through the bunker, or a facsimile of it, the hallways' angles not quite true, the rooms not quite plumb. His hands were bloody the first time he looked down at them, dusty the second time. It took him long minutes to walk up the metal staircase because there were twice as many steps as usual, with a curling ascent that made him a little dizzy. The heavy door was hard to open. With his weight against it, it opened with an echoing thunk; he fell into a field of knee-high grass and chicory as blue as Cas's eyes.

An empty field. His palms were still ashen.

The sorrow that tore through his body woke him more than the fall did. He blinked up at the wooden beams hatched across the farmhouse bedroom ceiling and tried to catch his breath. A tear slid down into his right ear and made him flinch. After a few swallows, he sat up and stretched. Rubbed his eyes dry. Noticed a strange brightness flaring around the perimeter of the bedroom's window curtain and let the ache behind his ribcage fade.

His feet registered the chill of the floor before the rest of him did and he skipped over to the window on tiptoe. With the curtain open the source of the light proved to be dawn illuminating the skim of snow atop everything in the yard – a powdered sugar dusting, surprising only because 24 hours ago it'd been 60F degrees outside.

He was gargling mouthwash when elsewhere in the house it sounded like someone was fighting off ninjas with a cookie sheet.

"You okay?" Dean asked at the kitchen doorway.

Cas, startled, dropped a metal pie plate (again) and groaned. "I'm sorry." He picked up the wayward pan and inspected it for dents before putting it firmly on the counter. "I didn't mean to wake you." He turned to give a more settled smile. "Hello, Dean."

Dean snuck in and wrapped Cas up in a hug before he could move away. "Good morning," he whispered into Cas's soft hair.

"Happy birthday," Cas said, his voice still smiling. He pulled back enough to look up at Dean, typical earnestness all over his face. "I guess my surprise won't be much of one now."

Dean blinked as the pie plate suddenly made sense. "Are you making me pie?" Delight bubbled up in his chest as Cas mouthed yes; Dean let his hands slide to Cas's waist and held on, anchoring himself there.

Cas ducked his head. "I was going to try." He glanced at a cookbook cracked open on the nearby table where they usually drank coffee and watched the sun rise, and beside it a bowl, a stick of butter, the canister labeled 'flour' and the canister labeled 'sugar', three loose eggs, a big wooden spoon, and a bag of nutmeats.

"Pecan. My favorite." Dean kissed the side of Cas's head. "Would you like some help?"

After a pause, Cas said, "No." He didn't sound sure of the answer. "It's your birthday. You should take the day off. I can manage." His hands on Dean's chest were another anchor.

"It is my birthday, so I think I should get to choose how to spend the morning." Dean quirked an eyebrow the way Cas often did when he was being bossy. "And I would like to help you make the best pecan pie either of us has ever eaten." He let his expression sweeten as a flush crept across Cas's cheeks. "Please."

Cas nodded, eyes shining. Dean gathered him into his arms again because he could. He was 45 years old and holding the love of his life in their tiny kitchen with the oven ticking, with snow sparkling through the windows. They were living their small, precious lives together in freedom, in peace (what 45 years had taught Dean the hard way: they could have both) and there was nothing empty about it.

They stood swaying sleepily for a couple of minutes before the desire for pie, and other things, started to eat away at Dean's brain. Low at Cas's ear, he said, "You know, pecan pie is best served room temp. We'll need to let it cool down after it's out of the oven before we can cut into it. Might take an hour."

"We haven't even started–"

"I'm just saying," Dean continued, "we'll need to find something else to do with ourselves in a little while." He cleared his throat. "Some way to pass the time."

Cas tipped his head up. "I don't think figuring that out will be an issue," he murmured, and pressed closer.

#birthday party for dean 2024 #spn #deancas #destiel #fic #snippetfic

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 3 months

Text

Home for the Holidays

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mentions of sex, mostly just fluff on fluff on fluff Prompt(s): From novelbear, thank you! 😊 Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You bring Casey home to meet your parents and siblings. Adorableness ensues.

Casey's leg bounced up and down as she stared out the passenger window of the rental car. You were only a half hour away from the Nashville airport, and already the crowded city streets had given way to fields, barns, and the occasional herd of cattle on a hillside. Bluegrass played softly through the speakers. You sighed contentedly, knowing just when to turn, just when to slow around a curve, just when to watch for deer crossing the road. You were almost home. Casey let out a shaky breath and you took her hand, pulling it to your lips for a quick kiss before lacing your fingers through hers. "Casey," you sang, trying to get her out of her head. She didn't answer.

"Honey, you're gonna be fine."

"God, I hope they like me," she muttered, her breath fogging up the car window.

"Of course they'll like you. What's not to like?"

"Oh, I don't know," Casey replied sarcastically, throwing up her hands. "I'm a lawyer. I'm blunt as shit. I probably swear too much. And I'm fucking their little girl."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not little. I'm almost thirty. So that'd be a dumb thing for them to care about." Casey said nothing. "Secondly, you're the only person I've ever brought home. If anyone's gonna be scared, it's them! They don't want to scare you off. Chances are not good that I'd ever bring someone home again." Casey bit at her fingernails. You batted them away from her mouth. "Quit with that, you just got them done."

"I'm just saying it's a lot of pressure!" she said, pulling at the strings of her hoodie.

"This is a lot of pressure!?" You laughed. "You made me meet your parents two months in! And you gave me one day's notice!"

"Yeah, but they live in the city, so it wasn't a big deal. I see them all the time. And it wasn't Christmas."

"Oh, don't even start. You were so butthurt when I went home for Thanksgiving without you."

You pulled down your street, houses twinkling with holiday lights, and waved at a neighbor walking a dog.

"Who's that?" Casey asked.

"I don't know."

"You just wave at people you don't know?!"

"Here? Yes. In New York? No."

You pulled to a stop in your family's driveway and grinned at their decorations–a giant pride flag, made entirely of Christmas lights.

"Wow," Casey said, gawking at the display.

"What can I say? They're aggressive allies."

You sat silently in the car for a moment, then took Casey's hand. "You ready?"

You nearly leapt out of your seats as two hands slammed on the driver's side door.

"Y/N!!! Come on, come on, come on!"

You smiled big, eyes sparkling, stimming quickly at your ears and shaking your head. It was your baby brother, Eli. Not such a baby anymore–16 years old. You threw open the car door and he barreled into you, squeezing his arms around your neck as tightly as he could.

"Who's here?!" he said, bouncing up and down with his hand on your shoulders. "Y/N's here!!!"

Casey watched you from a distance. You'd told her all about your youngest siblings–the twins. That they were, quite literally, one in millions. Fraternal twins, both born with Down syndrome. Casey knew, from you, that Eli loved Mario Kart and Les Misérables and called once a week to sing "One Day More" with you. She knew Winnie was a hotshot in the local Special Olympics basketball league (even at 4' 10"), a budding artist, and "kind of a bitch right now," as you'd told her on the way over.

"Can you say that about someone with Down syndrome?" Casey had asked.

You'd scoffed. "People with disabilities can be bitches just as much as anyone else."

Now, as she watched you with your brother, she got it. She got it when you said that they were your favorite people in the world which, until now, had made her ridiculously jealous. She got it when you said that you would give up everything to take care of them when your parents weren't able to anymore. Your face was alight with so much joy, so much connection. Connection that Casey knew you didn't get many other places, aside from her. And she knew then that she'd give up everything for you to have that, even if it meant moving to help you take care of your siblings when the time came.

When you and Eli finally separated, he turned his attention to Casey.

"Hi, Eli!" she said, bending down to be a bit closer to his height. "I'm Casey."

Unlike Winnie, who could talk the ear off a donkey, Eli was mostly non-verbal. He had autism, too, like you, and for this reason, you'd always felt a deeper connection to him. You knew you weren't supposed to have favorite siblings, but Eli was yours. So when he decided to use his limited words to talk with Casey, it was a big deal.

He looked first at Casey, then at you, and asked, "Girlfriend?"

You nodded, beaming. "Yep! Yeah, Casey's my girlfriend."

He stepped closer looking Casey over. After a moment, he seemed to decide that he liked her.

"Casey, big squeeze," he said, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Eli pronounced her name "kissy." You thought your heart might explode. She patted his back and looked to you for a translation.

"Big squeeze means he wants you to hug him as tight as you can. Like, really tight, to the point that you're afraid you might hurt him." She obliged and he laughed in her grip. When she let him go, he patted her on the back and jogged inside.

"It helps with, uh, autism stuff. The deep pressure," you explained.

"Does it help you, too?" Casey asked as you took your luggage out of the trunk.

"What?"

"The big squeeze. Do you like those, too?"

You smiled at her, quick and bright. "Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

"Come here." She pulled you into her and squeezed as hard as she could, using every muscle in her body to put pressure on you, flexing so hard you could feel her shaking. Your body, on the other hand, felt light as a feather, as if all the stress, all the tension in it was seeping out. When she let you go, you sighed happily, your body tingly. You felt almost high.

"Yeah, we're gonna do a lot more of that," Casey decided, observing how much you'd relaxed.

Tennessee wasn't cold, not like New York, but the warmth from inside hit you hard anyway. "Come on," Eli urged, impatiently motioning you toward the living room, where you knew your parents would be sitting. You helped Casey out of her coat, then took off yours, hanging them by the door.

"Mom, Dad!" Eli yelled. "Who's here!?"

Your parents walked into the kitchen, absolutely beaming at you. They'd never say it, but they'd given up on you dating. You just hadn't been interested. They'd gotten used to the idea that you could be happy without a relationship, after years of you sending them articles about asexuality. But you could tell they were happy to see you in love.

"Hey, y'all," your mom said, wrapping Casey in a huge hug that took her off guard.

You smiled as your dad did the same to you, kissing the top of your head. "Hey, sweet pea," he whispered. "Glad you're home."

Casey cleared her throat and reached out to shake your dad's hand. His biker-style beard and imposing height always made him seem scarier than he really was. "Mr. Y/L/N, it's very nice to meet y–" Once again, she was cut off by a bear hug.

"Welcome," your dad said, nearly smothering her. "We're so glad you're here."

"Where's Winnie?" you asked, looking around.

"Upstairs on her iPad." Your mom rolled her eyes. "Want me to get her?"

"Nah. She'll figure out I'm here eventually."

You all made your way to the living room, where Eli promptly got on his own iPad, put his headphones on, and proceeded to perform a series of silent, choreographed dances in front of the Christmas tree. Casey watched him, amused and delighted that neither you nor your parents seemed to find this out of the ordinary at all.

"How was your trip?" your dad asked, lowering himself into a seat next to your mom.

"Good," you said, taking Casey's hand in yours when you noticed she was picking at her fingernails again. "The airport wasn't even too bad."

"I bet it'll be a shit show tomorrow..." your dad mused, thinking about Christmas Eve flights of years past.

"So, Casey," your mom started, clearly eager to get to know the only person who'd ever managed to turn your head. "Tell us about yourself. Y/N says you're a lawyer?"

"That's right." You squeezed Casey's hand as she spoke. "I'm an Assistant District Attorney at the Manhattan DA's office. I prosecute cases for the Special Victims Unit."

"Special Victims?" your dad asked. "Like victims of assault?"

She glanced at your brother who shimmied in the background. "Uh..."

"He can't hear," you told her.

"Yes. Assault, rape, sexually-motivated homicide, child abuse, things like that."

"That's gotta be such a hard job," your mom empathized.

"It's admirable work." Your dad nodded approvingly at Casey, and she seemed to relax a bit. "Those pieces of garbage deserve to rot in hell. But jail's a start."

You rolled your eyes. Your dad was a passionate man, with a tendency to turn more aggressively passionate at any mention or hint of violence toward women and children. Come to think of it, Casey reminded you of him in that way.

"I couldn't agree more," Casey told him.

"You met playing softball?" your mom asked, clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

Casey's face brightened. "We did!" She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into her, blushing a little. Your parents shared a glance; they had never seen you this close to anyone. "We're on the same rec team. Y/N's the catcher and I pitch."

"Still got that catcher's gear?" your dad joked, winking at you.

You shot him a glare. "I know I'm not that much taller than I was when I was twelve but, no, Dad, the gear from my middle school team doesn't fit anymore."

"Ooh!" he exclaimed, sitting up and pointing at Casey. "Has Y/N ever told you about her softball nickname?"

"No, she hasn't," Casey said, smirking at you.

"I coached her team when she was little. She played catcher, of course." Your dad leaned forward, as if he and Casey were in on a delightful secret together.

"But she would jump forward to grab the ball," he continued. "Which was obviously a terrible idea because–"

"She's gonna get hit," Casey finished, nodding.

"Exactly. She was really good, but she always jumped out and we kept telling her, 'You can't be pouncing like a tiger, you're gonna get hurt.' And one day, sure enough, she leaned forward and bam! She was laid out. Thank god she had the helmet on, or it probably would've cracked her skull."

Casey laughed, but placed a hand absentmindedly on the side of your head, as if checking to make sure you really were okay, all these years later.

"After that," your dad chuckled. "Word got around with other parents and the girls on the team, and they started calling her El Tigre. For the rest of her softball career–El Tigre!"

Your cheeks were burning as Casey and your parents laughed together, but your heart was warm, too.

"Okay, okay," you said, "I'm gonna go say hey to Winnie." You looked at Casey. "You want to come?"

"Sure!" she said, standing next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back as you moved toward the stairs. You looked back at your parents to see them watching you intently, holding hands, nearly bursting with happiness. They liked her. You could already tell.

As you emerged upstairs, you gently grabbed Casey's waist and pressed her lightly against the wall.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I thought we were going to see your sister."

"We are," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss her softly. You felt her body melt into yours, the stress of the day dissipating. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay first."

Casey sighed contentedly and brushed your hair behind your ears. "I'm good. They're really nice people, your family. They really love you."

"Yeah, well," you scoffed. "Wait until you meet this one."

You knocked on Winnie's door and threw it open when she called, "What!?"

Winnie sat at her desk in all her diminutive glory, Special Olympics medals hanging from a cork board and Usher's "Yeah!" blaring from the speakers.

"'Sup, nerd," you said, standing in the doorway.

Winnie gaped, looking from you to Casey.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" she finally said.

"Uh, it's Christmas?" you responded.

Winnie pointed at Casey. "Who are you?"

You could tell that Casey was holding back laughter. "I'm Casey."

"You're Y/N's friend?" Winnie asked, leaning back and swiveling in her desk chair.

"No, I'm not her friend. I'm her girlfriend," Casey said as the two of you took a seat on the edge of Winnie's bed.

Winnie seemed to think very deeply about this. "Her girlfriend?"

You both nodded.

"Like, when you have a crush?"

You blushed.

"Yep," Casey nodded, patting your leg. "I have a big crush on Y/N."

Casey shot you a cheesy grin. She was loving this.

Winnie smirked and waggled her eyebrows. "Do you kiss!?"

"Oh my god," you groaned, rubbing your forehead.

Casey on the other hand, seemed to be living for this conversation.

"Oh, absolutely," Casey told her. "I do kiss Y/N. I love to kiss her."

Winnie scoffed and turned back to her desk, fiddling with her iPad.

"What about you, Winnie?" Casey continued, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. It blew your mind that Casey seemed to be getting along with Winnie so well. Or maybe Casey just liked pushing people's buttons. God knows, Winnie was nothing but buttons to push these days. "Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?"

The look of absolute condescension on Winnie's smug face finally drove Casey to the edge. She burst out laughing. "Why are you looking at me like that!?"

"I don't have time for that," Winnie said. "I have to work out." She pulled up her sleeve and flexed her bicep.

"Damn!" Casey exclaimed, standing up to squeeze Winnie's arm. "You are strong!"

Winnie pulled her sleeve back down. "Yeah, I know."

"I hear you're really good at basketball," Casey said conspiratorially, squatting down next to Winnie's desk. "I'm more of a baseball girl myself, but you wanna play tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" Winnie exclaimed, genuinely excited before she remembered she was too cool for us. "But I'll win."

Casey raised her eyebrows. "That's some big talk."

Winnie shrugged. "I can't help it that I'm the best."

"You got me there."

You gestured to Casey and she followed you to the door.

"Y/N can't play, though," Winnie added, glancing back at Casey.

"Aw, why not?" Casey protested. "I love playing with Y/N."

Winnie shook her head. "She is really bad."

"Ouch, Winnie," you said, glaring at her.

Casey cracked up again, and you elbowed her in the stomach.

"Good night, loser," you called as you shut Winnie's door.

"Good night, dork!" she yelled back.

Casey had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

"See?" you whispered to her. "I told you. A little bitch."

Casey grabbed your face in her hands and pressed her forehead to yours. She kissed you quickly, then laughed, a wide grin on her face.

"What's this for?" you asked, as if you needed a reason.

"Oh, it's nothing," Casey said, serious, before giggling, "I just have such a big crush on you."

"Ugh, stop!" You pushed her away. "That's so dumb."

"It's cute!" she protested, and you didn't know if you'd ever seen her this giddy. She came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing her face into your neck. "Come on, you say it, too."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "I have a massive, huge, heartstopping crush on you, Casey."

She buried her face into you, planting kisses up and down your neck as her fingers tickled your stomach. You squirmed and giggled and shushed her as you both headed back downstairs. You didn't want to seem too in love. Your parents would never let it go.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak drabble #casey novak one shot #casey novak fluff #law and order svu #svu #autistic #neurodivergent #casey novak x autistic reader #x autistic reader

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dietmountaindewbae · 5 months

Note

young Al anon again, when I mean Dom. I meant horrid cocky piece of shit 20 year old Alex being merciless because he sees the reader as just a groupie from his new fame

xxi. your band is all the rage

alex turner x reader

word count: 6348

summary: Glastonbury festival (2007) was here, you and your friends adventure into the festival, but on the way you get lost, and you run into the boy that was taped to your bedroom walls (fwn! Alex) you didn't expect what would happen next...

warnings: sp*t, or*al, dr*gs, alc*ohl, degr*ting

song recommendation: paper planes by M.I.A

───── ୨୧ ─────

The lingering pre-euphoric feeling of being in Glasto watching and hearing your favorite band live with your most real friends, drinks being poured down your throat like water, and breathing pot smoke like part of the oxygen was magical, it would be hard to forget this year, you recently moved to London for college living in a little flat with your two best friends, and a small puppy that was like your son, staying up late and sleeping until the next day, you had saved up enough for Glasto, all the money that was for the rent ended up in there, but it was worth it, the muddy boots, thick leather jackets, long belts, short skirts, and broken tights, busted knees.

"For fucks sake!" You screamed trying to find a signal in the middle of the field, looking so lost and silly with your arm up high in the sky all stressed up, you had lost your friends after Amy Winehouse went up the stage, and you spend hours trying to find them, and you began to feel worried, and paranoid, the whole day you were stuck together like glue, but then drinks swung one after the other and you were pissed throughout the concerts and suddenly you were alone singing with Amy, somehow you managed to find a spot with one bar of weak signal, you choose to follow that signal until it was getting stronger which let you thru some bushes in the darkness you battled your way out, you walked for a few moments depending on your phone's light for illumination until somehow, you managed to find the camp where everyone who headlined was, you sneaked around when you saw some security walking around the place, you sneaked your way thru some bushes until you found reception again, the trailer that you were hiding behind, for your luck had the door unlocked and you hide from security.

"Shit, shit, shit..." You whispered over and over again, as you tripped over something that knocked you to the table, the moment the lights went on your heart dropped to your stomach as your paths crossed with none other than the boy with a shaggy and short haircut that you've been crazy about for years wearing some denim jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, the one with his face all over your room, you looked for him in magazines and in person he looked just like a normal human.

"Um... excuse me... who are you looking for?" He was alone with his eyes a bit swollen and his hair made a mess as if he had just woken up and was trying to decipher wether he was dreaming you or not, you didn't realize how stupid you were by going inside the trailer, face red, you looked everywhere and anywhere for a quick answer since your brain couldn't develop one.

"I- um..." You awkwardly giggle, "I'm just lookin' for my mates, I lost them or they lost me... I-I dunno... I-I'm sorry I should go, I'm such a prick" Your knees were bruised, but you managed to get yourself up and fix your dress.

"But... how did you get here?" He said, looking at you like you were the dumbest person alive.

His eyes roam your body with no shame, his breathing short as he sees the way your mouth moves as you speak, how your eyes have this little sparkle whenever he looks at you, and how you couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second, your brain taking pictures of his faces, "That's a good question, I've been wondering that myself too... I just found a little bit of reception here, and-"

He clears out his throat cutting you off, "You know what? It don't matter... you can stay, just don't go inside anyone's trailer like that again doll, you can get in serious trouble" He called you a doll, and you smiled to yourself at the fact that Alex fucking Turner had called you a doll, "Want a drink?" Holly fuck, you cursed into your head.

"Sure... yeah that'll be cool" You walked around the monkeys trailer as Alex turned on his blender, throwing on some ice in two cups, all the things that you wanted to say, and scream simply couldn't be spilled out of your mouth as your mind took pictures of every bit of the messy trailer, you could spot Matt's drumsticks, and Nick's bass, you were more than excited when you saw Jamie's owl strap hanged in the settee, and when your eyes ran across Alex's little hard covered open notebook, you wanted to read it so badly.

"Margaritas!" He handed you over a cool red plastic cup, sitting beside you on his olive green settee, "Cheers, love" He watched you pour his margarita down your mouth with the biggest look of relief, he smiled, eying you up and down from the side, you bet you were looking dirty and sweaty, your dress didn't hide much of your body, it made your legs longer with your gold dress and leather belt around your hips, with your dirty rain boots, and your trashed eyeliner with gold sparkles on your eyelids, but not only was your face that captivated him, your smooth legs with bleeding bumps on them, if he looked more higher he could see your pair of black knickers.

"Fuck, I never thought this would happen..." You admitted, pushing your hands through your hair, the palm of your hand on your forehead.

"What?" He leaned in closer.

You sighed looking down at your cup because you couldn't look at his face for long, "It's my first festival" You said with a smile, "Well it's our first festival, and I dunno... I saw this coming but I was hoping it wouldn't happen, losing all of my girls just like that" You snapped your fingers.

"This is what happens when you give young girls more booze than they can handle" He chuckled while you awkwardly laughed at his comment, maybe that was his sense of humor, he saw you smiling so he took that as a sign that you were getting into him, his body began to close the space between yours very slowly, leaning in, "To be honest, I'm sort of glad you crashed here," His arm rested on the head of the couch, his fingers lightly touching your shoulder, "To finally have someone that's easy to talk to" You smiled not quite sure to take what he said as a compliment but you politely took what he said as something possibly positive.

"Well... thank you," You said, smiling and resting your head on his hand, his fingers intertwined with your hair, you felt embarrassed about the way you had rudely woke him up just a few minutes ago, you thought it was the right moment to apologize since he had gone quiet, but what he did was admiring your face, "When I... crashed here, where you asleep?" You asked kindly, he nodded his head, "I'm sorry for waking you up" His hand pats your thigh gently, and you look at him in the eyes, and he shrugs with a smile.

"I'm happy you did though, I dunno why but whenever I'm 'bout to play at any festival I just have terrible nightmares, then you came and I thought I was still dreaming" You blushed at the comment, even if it was a cliché, he was just as you imagined he would be, sweet and shy, handsome as well with a touch of cockiness for some spice, you noticed he wasn't as smooth sometimes when it came to flirting but at least he didn't say anything stupid, he was a dork.

"What was it about?" He shrugged smiling to himself again, he stared into your eyes, something in them thrilled you when they shine.

"About me shoes...." You both break into laughter, he sees that familiar spark in your eyes, your smile charming him, so he decides to leave behind his shyness and take a chance with you, "Can I tell you summat?" You nodded, "This is me first Glasto too, so why don't we make it unforgettable together?" Your head raised when he proposed you to stay with him, his hand landing on your knee.

"You reckon?" He said yes with his head, "Really?"

"Yeah, I can write your girls on the list, we'll have a party after the show ends," With no doubt, you said yes, "You're welcome..." You told him your name and you heard him say it back at you with a smile, you pinched yourself to prove that you weren't dreaming this, but this was real, Alex Turner knows about your existence and asked you to stay with him.

"I don't think I need an introduction, right?" You giggled saying no, "Right then, follow me doll, we're almost up" He put your margarita down, and grabbed your hand turning off the lights of his trailer and grabbed a black coat on the way out, on the walk backstage he never dropped your hand, properly holding it, fingers intertwined, his hand soft, and his fingertips bumpy and thick, you went thru the woods his hand gripping yours tightly until you were at the back of the big pyramid, it was so strange looking at it from that angle but it was still magnificent, there was a big white tent right next to the stage, security stopped you and Alex before going inside.

"She's with me, we also have more people coming with us," Out of his pocket he took out his wallet, sliding some money into the palm of his hand, the big man that was twice the size of you and Alex, nodded his head.

"Names" That's the only thing he said, you wrote them down on a piece of ripped paper he gave you and went inside with ease, the place was poorly illuminated but you recognized everyone, your pulse speeding up when you saw that iconic 60's bee hive black hair of hers, walking towards you with her black tank top, leather belt around her waist and beautiful red skirt and her big eyeliner.

"Aye, kiddo!" Amy approached the both of you with a cigarette trapped between her teeth, "It's wild out there, I just wanted to tell you to have fun, it's big and I'm sure after this you lots will only go up and up" She blew the smoke at your face, you were honored, "And who is this?" She greets you with a big friendly hug and kiss on your cheek, you tell her your name and she scans you up and down, "You look very fit"

You internally screamed, "You were amazing out there, me and my gals were-"

"Meh, a bit shit," She said making you laugh, "But have a nice night, I'll see you at the party right?" She repeated your name and you were only able to nod your head and she said goodbye to you, walking to her trailer with her security.

"Shit, I can't believe that just happened" You covered your mouth, "Amy, just... bloody hell" Alex laughed along with you.

"I know, big fan as well, she's just lovely... come to meet the rest" The rest? you were about to enter into a coma if you met the rest, "There's a signal here as well" Shit, you forgot about that, you walked away for a moment phoning your girls.

"Chelsea?" You yelled, there was a lot of noise but when she said your name you were relieved, "You won't believe what just happened but I'm in the back of the fucking pyramid with Arctic Monkeys and I just fucking saw Amy!" Your friend began yelling like a little child but you managed to explain to her how to get there, "Find Gracie," She promised you she would and to phone you when she was there, you finished the call, and Alex waved his hand at you with a big smile, you ran to meet him, your heart rate speeding when you saw the rest of the guys together.

He pulled you in, his arm around your waist, sticking your body next to his, and introducing you to the guys, "Lovely to meet you" Nick said hugging you and padding your back, Matt and Jamie did as well, and Katie who's Jamie's girlfriend gave you a big hug.

"Finally, a girl! I was tired of all of that testosterone and cologne" Katie pulled you away from Alex, "You don't mind if I steal her away from you for a couple of minutes, do you Al?" He looks at you and back at Katie, she practically had already claimed you.

"Mmm, just don't take long, I want her to see our set" Katie raised her beer and nodded.

"Sure you do... come" She grabbed your hand pulling you to a corner, "I've been dying to fix my hair and makeup!" She said, "Do you mind holding your light and my purse?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" You held your phone up, as she took her lip gloss and mirror out from her little Prada purse, "Shit, I don't know where my bag is" Her laughter was contagious, you were put at ease by her presence.

"You're lovely, do you mind?" She gave you her mirror and you held it up for her as she fixed some gloss on her lips, and some powder on her face, patting it gently on her nose and under her eyes, "Here, have some too," She pats it into your face, taking out some of your runny makeup with her fingers, she put some pinkish lipstick on your cheeks and her cheeks, lastly applying more gloss on your mouth, "Done, let's go back before Al yells at us" Your phone began to buzz like crazy.

"That was fast, my mates are here, I'll be back" She held your hand, she was compromised not to leave your side.

"I'm coming with you" She quickly put her things back in place and ran with you to the entrance hand in hand pushing everyone away with a lot of 'excuse me' and 'sorry', you hugged both of your girls tightly, all of you relieved you were back together, all in one piece.

"Fuckin' hell, where did you guys go?! You left me!" You yelled at them and Chelsea hugged you so hard your lungs ran out of air.

"Gracie saw me running to the bushes to throw up and then we lost you, and then she lost me but I'm fine now!" When Chelsea got drunk she acted like that, that's how your friend was and more than being mad at her you were happy that now you were together.

"Girls, this is Katie!" Katie kindly hugged the girls and all of them already knew who Katie Downs was, the rockstar model girlfriend, a goddess to many girls, all of you looked out to her for pulling Jamie Cook, and now when you went back inside, and saw Alex with that evil cocky smile on his face you could tell he was looking at you shamelessly, when you walk into the room it was hard for Alex to not picture those black knickers falling to your ankles, and that dress to the floor, or your bruised knees getting new ones, you were something else, and Alex wanted you, when he saw you so messy, and so sexy, he just wanted to get to see more of you, get a peek of what was behind that dress.

This time when he saw you, his arm possesively around your lower back, his hand falling to your hip gripping it tight and playing with the studs on your belt. Chelsea quickly caught up on him and the way he was whispering things to your ear and making you laugh, his nose taking a sniff of your scent, he was desperate for the party to come.

"Monkeys!" The staff announced, and Matt alongside Nick were the first to go running up the stairs. Before Jamike walked in, he pulled Katie to a dark corner in the staircase to kiss her deeply gripping her sides tightly, you and Alex crossed looks with each other as you saw them kissing, you blushed when Alex pulled you away to a dark corner before he came up the stairs, caging you in between his arms.

"Aren't you gonna wish me some luck?" One of his hands dropped to your ass gripping it lightly, he bit his bottom lip with a smudge smile, looking at you needy like a teenager, you smiled, taking a step close and kissing his cheek.

"Good luck Al" That's all you said, his smile was quick to come off when he didn't get what he wanted, you could see it crystal clear but you wouldn't let that man go without something to hold on to, you grabbed his hand stopping him, "I'm not done with you yet..."

"Alex!" They yelled but he ignored them when you put his hands on your lower back, your arms wrapping around the back of his head, living a lingering kiss on his mouth, opening it to slip your tongue inside his mouth, his hand went up to your neck, his grip loose around it but his thumb caressed your skin, you took your lips off from his mouth, and he leaned in for more, but you attacked his neck nibbling on his skin, and whispering in his ear, "Would you sing one for me, Al?" Your eyes tender, he smiled and gave you a peck.

"Mmm, yeah babe... just wait for me, I'll show you summat else after I wrap it up here, enjoy the show" He went back with the rest, all of their heads turning to you and Alex, of course, they knew what was going on but you couldn't care less.

"Be careful" Chelsea said, she was more rational than Gracie who was more boy obsessed, she loved boys so much that she, of course, would support your decision to stay with Alex, "You know rockstars, they hit it, lit it and quit it," You hummed as a yes, you were cornered, in the wonder, would it be worth it to spend the night with Alex or to hit and run before he does that to you?

The crowd screams wildly as they see them walk onto the stage, without saying a word they begin to play, everyone recognizes the song in the very first strum of his bronco, and the crowd sings the lyrics along with Alex.

"So who's that girl there? I wonder what went wrong so that she had to run the streets she don't do major credit cards"

As the show settles down after the first song ends, the next no one begins back to back, Alex shared his excitement with the chanting crowd you were dancing and jumping thru the whole gig, "We'd like to play a cover for you Glastonbury, ladies and gentlemen, it's like I said before, you know it only happens once...we're fucking like thrilled, thrilled and we just wanted ...like make it out for everyone to have a good time you know?"

He kept smiling whenever he looked at you in certain lyrics that he dedicated to you when he sang 'Diamonds Are Forever', you had no words to describe how euphoric you felt when you turned 18 you thought your life as a teenage girl was over but you still feel like that young girl that hopelessly wore her heart on her sleeve, when Alex looks at you, a fire in your belly spreads wildly, you couldn't control it, you wanted to be all over him, you didn't care anymore, it was pure young lust, and it was something he wasn't hiding either. At that moment, when he saw thousands of people waving their arms, chanting, clapping, jumping, and throwing themselves, the monkeys felt that they'd made it, all of them had an itch inside their tummies, and all of them could feel it in each other, this was it, this is their moment, this is when they begin.

Alex's lips leaned in closer to the microphone, announcing the next song, "This is called 'Leave Before The Lights Come On' ladies and gentlemen.... and I should stop saying ladies and gentlemen, that must be about the fourteenth time" He quickly turned to see if he had made you laugh, he knew he had embarrassed himself in front of thousands of people but when he saw you smiling he felt fine.

[...]

His intentions were clear, right as he came down from the stage bathed in sweat his hands landed on your hips, there was a spark in his eyes that was hard to control, that fresh concert euphoric bliss that had his eyes so deeply dilated, that angst he couldn't control like an itch on the roof of his mouth, he couldn't console, he wanted to do you and only you.

"Mate, everyone's going to Lily's tent, we'll see you there, reyt?..." Matt said, Alex just nodding focusing your eyes on you.

"Shit, Chelsea and Grace!" Little did you know that they were also hooking their selves with the guys from Fratellis, specially Chelsea as you imagined, you turned to look at Alex and you fetched them.

"Lily's... now" That's the only thing you said but everyone was gonna be back in the trailers of course, either way you managed to get them all, including Kasabian, Fratellis, Amy, and The Killers were there too, you were baffled by the amount of people you met and all the pictures you took with each of them, but it didn't take long until you had to get out for a necessary cigarette break.

Just when you had relaxed and sat on your legs to enjoy your cigarette you heard someone say, "There you were" Your heart speeds when you see Alex, and you quickly stand up and keep smoking.

"I lost you, with all of those girls in there... I thought you had forgotten about me," You said with a hint of annoyance, he nudged his head to the side and said no.

"I'm not finished with you yet... I could have all of them and you know that, right?" That was very hard to accept but who were you kidding? He was right, then he took your cigarette away, pulling you in and pressing your body against him so you could feel how hard he was, he blew the smoke into your mouth wrapping you up in a poisonous and addictive kiss, "Don't flatter yourself" Your cheeks painted dark red without you noticing it, he grabbed your hand and let your way to his camper, both of you knew exactly how things were going to go down.

Alex couldn't wait any longer both getting excited by the anticipation, the ride to his campsite was too far for him, his need for you was too hard, and he needed to get it out of his system, the kiss was enough to get him hooked, he couldn't get you out of his head the whole gig, and the euphoria, and the bliss, and you... he knew you were more than willing, he pulled you to a bench, settling you on top of him.

He pulled your face to his, slipping his tongue inside you the moment your lips parted to kiss him, his hands gripping your ass tightly, your dress riding up to your hips and that was enough for him to take advantage of, feeling your smooth skin and digging his nails into your ass, you sighed when that piece of thin fabric in your body rubbed against the roughness of his blue denim jeans, "Quite needy" You whispered, at that moment he thrusts his hips, you felt that piece of hard meat coming in direct contact with you, your underwear was so thin, you could feel him entirely.

"You couldn't expect for you to just leave me like that, now do you?" He chocked, "I know what you want" His eyes look down to his bulging boner, you oblige, knees on the ground, your hands on his jeans, stroking him, but he already had figured out exactly what to do with you in his mind, he quickly unbuckled his belt, he didn't want to waste more time while you just wanted to warm him up and tease him to get him more worked up, he took out his cock from his belt your eyes widening at the size, you looked up at him, he was impatient pulling your head down to his cock.

Your mouth closed around him but barely did anything, a big sigh of relief left his lips, and you smiled your eyes coming in contact with his, "I don't have all night" He said demandingly, you began to gather up a steady pace, sucking hard but not going too fast, swirling your tongue around his red tip, while your hand strokes the rest of his dick, "Are you gonna blow me or what? You're wasting me time"

He pulled your head back and your hands gripped his thighs to not let him go, "No, no! Wait... I'm sorry" Here you were, down on your knees being the one that apologized to him because you weren't doing a good enough job in Alex's eyes, but he still had a little trace of goodness, and the chances of him treating you more like shit would make you better, he could see how hard you tried, how much you wanted to please him, he wouldn't let down a chance like this, a girl that would beg to suck his dick.

"Sorry won't make me cum, just get down you fuckin' cunt" You leaned in forward, pushing your hair behind your ears, sliding his cock down your throat, he chocked out a groan, his whole body relaxing on the bench, and sighed and said, "Fuckin' finally..." You tried your best to keep your breathing steady, but you couldn't stop gagging around him, his size too thick, you drew some of his cock back, going back to rimming his cock with your tongue, he pulled your head back, and your mouth drooling, "Hey, is this your first time sucking a dick, you lazy whore? Don't act like you can't do better than just gag," Sliding back your comments about his arrogance you took him in.

Alex moaned as he kept watching you suck him more harshly, your cheeks hollowed the outline of his cock could be seen on your cheek, the exaggerated moans that fell from his mouth could tell you than more than enjoying your warm, wet, and greedy mouth he enjoyed himself, he only saw you as that, as something he could use to play with, to make himself feel higher, more confident, and you liked that, you liked how much he enjoyed himself so you began to do the same, your hand sliding down in between your legs, and it was obvious, you were soaking wet by now, you enjoyed giving him head so much, him fucking your mouth like it was your pussy, and possibly spilling his cum down your throat, and how much of an asshole he was with you, how little value he gave to you, it pushed you to be wilder, to try harder, to not be scared of him being more rough, you could vividly picture him fucking you, your walls contracting around nothing by the thought, your clit swollen from rubbing it in harsh circles, the vibration of your moaning making him moan louder and louder, he smiled when he saw you touching yourself.

"You're a dirty little slut touching yourself like that, you like how I feel in your mouth huh?" He asked, "You'll like it more when I fill it up" You moaned loudly as your fingers slid in easily, your fingers fucking your hole harder, "You dirty fuck, I'm gonna fuck your mouth until you can't breathe" He pulled your head down, gathering your hair into a ponytail, thrusting his hips, your screams muffled by his cock, you couldn't stop him, he had lost it the moment you kissed him, and now you were paying for it.

Then, the moment you heard people approaching Alex quickly drew back his cock from your mouth, putting it back inside his boxers and zipping up his jeans, he grabbed your hand picked you up from the ground, and dragged you around the tent, behind a three, both of you could hear the music close, and at any moment, anyone could see you two together and that was so thrilling, it's not like he cared, but he wanted to remain some things private, he leans in forward slowly, backing you up against the tree cupping your cheeks, "Kiss me" You closed the space between you and his body, at first he enjoyed the deep kiss, tasting your warm mouth, something about you was quite addictive, you didn't know if it might be the tiniest trace of nicotine or the fact that he just wanted to feel your insides more than just wanting a simple blow.

Alex flips you, face against the tree, his hands dropping to your hips pulling them forward, "Are your little fantasies coming true? You can't lie to me, I knew you were thinking of summat like this... just wanting me inside you this whole time... and you didn't say anything..." You heard the sound of his zipper coming down, you gripped the wood tighter as Alex pushed your dress up to your back, he finally saw what was underneath your golden dress, that thin pair of black knickers, he pushed them aside, and pressed his fingers down on your clit making you sigh, he smiled to himself gathering up a slow tempting pace.

"You're such..." You were cut off the moment his fingers finally made their way into your panties.

"Such a what?" You couldn't stop gasping as his fingers began to fuck your hole more vigorously, deeper, you couldn't stop moaning his name out loud, even if you tried, he filled you up to the top, your legs losing balance, "Such a good fuck, babe?" You whined when he took himself out of you, rimming his dick on your cunt, spreading your wetness all over it.

"Mhm" You whimpered, the tip of his cock was used to rub your weakest spot in circles, you could feel him smiling to himself, whatever happened to that 19-year-old boy that won your heart with his shyness in his interviews, reserved, quiet, a sweet kind smile, now he was all over you, treating you like a trashy whore, but you loved it, it boosts his ego, but nobody had seen this part of Alex Turner, or even felt it, "You are Alex" You whimpered.

"Be quiet sweetheart, or they'll hear you..." He enters you and keeps fucking you like a doll, pressed against you so tight you were seeing the stars in the black sky shining like diamonds, reflecting in your eyes, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach, his lips pressed against your neck, sucking on it harder to leave his little stamp, his mark, "I bet everyone would be glad to know you got fucked by me..." You didn't know how did he have the strength to keep talking to you while he fucked your insides so good. His lips were so soft against your skin, his cock reaches to a place that covered your flesh in goosebumps, his nose tickling your nape, his hands gripping your tits, squishing them together, kneading them.

"Oh... Alex," You gasp, he had such a delicious rhythm that burned your body and his, the tension making the air thicker, harder and harder for you to catch your breathing, you trembled, your cheeks burning hot as your pussy only got wetter, and nipples got hard.

"I felt that... tell me what it is..." He drawled, but you couldn't sound a syllable, you grabbed his hand, sliding down in between your legs, your back arched as his fingers press down on your clit, your head on his shoulder, your long neck so beautiful in his eyes, his other hand chocked your neck, he kissed you as best as he could, rubbing your clit harder as he feels you contracting, your pussy made a mess, wetting your inner thighs, feeling those tickles, and his dick was pushed deep inside you, only to make you finish all over him, your eyes turning white gasping for some air, making you feel lightheaded, and he let go of your neck before you passed out, but you were sure it wasn't because you couldn't breathe, it was because he fucked you so well, "Now is my turn..." He gathered up a giddy pace, so fast that the sound of his hips colliding against your body sounded like applause, your ass turning tender and soft like a piece of dough, he was coming to an end, and so did you for the second time, he pushed himself harder, "Cum all over me cock, you dirty cunt... fuckin' do it" He flicked your clit and you came again, not being able to stand on your feet any longer, he pulled out of you fast to cum on your back, the warm fluid dripping down your hips and bum, "Shit, shit... oh fuck" He gave himself a few strokes to squeeze everything out when he opened his eyes again he began to panic a bit, he researched in his jeans for something to clean you up.

You quietly giggled and kicked your panties off your feet, "Just use these" You panted, he grabbed them and he pushed his lips together.

"But I'm gonna ruin them" He pouts, you wave it off and he cleans up your back, once he is done, you take your coat off, wrapping it around your waist, he feels bad about it, and you can see it on his face, "What's wrong?"

"Ruined a sexy pair of knickers," Your fingers brushed the hairs on his forehead, and you kindly smiled at him, pecking his lips.

"It was for a good cause," You made him laugh, and it was the silliest, sweetest, and most contagious laugh ever, you've heard it before on the radio when they interviewed them, but it was nothing like real life, "Besides, I always keep a spare on my purse" He pushed his eyebrows together, smiling, his smile was the one that made your insides melt.

"Now I'm curious to see what's inside that magical purse of yours," You looked at him with a hint of sadness in your eyes, knowing that maybe it was time for you to go your separate ways as you walked together, but at least for today, he didn't want you to just disappear, so he grabbed your hand and you walked back together, you found a bathroom in the way where you could change, and he waited patiently outside for you, telling your how sorry he was over and over, but you truly didn't care.

You had the time of your life, partying with him and the monkeys, Lilly Allen had turned the party into a costume party, you saw Alex changing into a green dinosaur onesie, drinking beer, and dancing with you dressed like an angel, with sparkles in your eyes and a white dress that Amy lend you in exchange for your golden dress, you kept dancing and drinking until the sunrise with him, smoking some weed with him and Matt in the back, Alex played with you, he stuck with you throughout the whole night, pinching your bum, kissing the back of your head, but mostly he spent most of the time craving the taste of your mouth, kissing you with angst and possession since there was another guy, James from Klaxons that wanted to kiss you, he wouldn't leave you alone, both of you felt like you were flying like planes running and rolling around the grass watching the sun peek behind the giant pyramid. And then, your memory went blank, you had woken up from the floor with your knees and elbow bleeding, blood on your wings and broken fishnets, Chelsea lying on your thighs and Gracie hugging you close, you glanced at your clock, it was 8 in the morning, you woke Chelsea and Gracie up, taking them with Jamie and Katie who kindly gave them water and some food, then you had another worry, it was Alex.

"Have you guys seen Alex anywhere?" You slurred to Jamie and Katie, then Jamie grabbed Katie's hand and went outside with you, you heard the sound of Alex's grunts, and you followed them until you saw him wrestling James in the mud with his dinosaur onesie, his eyes just as red as yours, "Alex!" James was in the mud and Alex quickly went running back to you zigzagging, you couldn't help but laugh so hard it knocked you to the floor, your body and head still felt light, he laid down next to you staining your costume with mud, "What the fuck, Alex?"

"That fucker wanted to kiss you!" Alex's voice sounded a pinch higher when he was drunk, he was annoyed that you kept laughing, "What? He needed to know that you're mine, he can't kiss you"

"So brave!" You teased him, cuddling close to him, "How much grass did we smoke? Jesus... I'm so tired" You turn your head to look at him but he is already staring at your lips, stealing a kiss from you.

"We could go back to the trailer," He pinched your chin, his thumb caressing it gently, and a smile crawled to your lips.

"You're not that tired, are you?" He said no with his head, his hands sneaking to pinch your bum, making you giggle like a child and blush hard.

"I'll do everything, you just have to lay down... and look pretty just like now" He kissed your temple, piggybacking you back to the trailer, closing the door shut.

A/N

Happy Alex Turner day everyone! 💘

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys one shots #alex turner fan fic #matt helders #alex turner one shots #jamie cook #nick omalley #indie sleaze #indie rock #glastonbury 2007 #indie parties

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