#so having to see it on my side bar is a good tipping point to maybe turning the Radar off

[bleaksqueak]

I haven't been online most all day, and now I log in to see AI generated junk on the promotion radar. Ew.

[grugruel]

Save a Horse

Pairings: cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Its girls night out, but when you see a handsome cowboy, you have no other option than to take him for a ride.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, Pet names (girl, ma'am, doll, sugar (once), darling), slight praise, body worship, cowgirl, pinv sex, southern Bucky, cockwarming, creampie, sundress kink.

AN: I lied, I was so excited to write cowboy!bucky so I posted it first.

The sounds of heels hitting pavement surrounded me as I held the door to the bar open, letting my girls pass me. We were out for our typical ladies night.

We sound like a gaggle of hens as we enter, giggling and gossiping as were already a bit drunk from dinner. The sound of music and crowded voices fill the gloomy, yet cozy lit bar.

Our group steps up to the counter, placing our orders when one of the girls nudges me, 'Honey, be descreet ok? That stud over there.' She says quietly, nodding her head to the right of us, 'Hes totally checking you out.'

I furrow my brows, doubting her words and all girls turn their heads at the same time, checking out this supposed stud.

And boy, was she right.

Sat by his lonesome, brooding and hunched over his drink, his gaze was observing me from under his hat. When he notices us all staring he chuckles and smirks, nodding to the empty seat next to him. The girls whisper to me in various terms of encouragement and surprise like 'Holy shit!' And 'Go get him, girl.'

I shake my head and laugh, mouthing "Later" to him. 'Lets just get a table.' I tell the girls with a bright smile.

The night goes on, but unable to keep my eyes to myself. They drift toward the handsome cowboy by the bar and more often than not, I find him already looking.

'Girl, if you dont want him, we'll take him.' They say, all agreeing with the statement.

I look at them with round eyes 'Oh my god, fine.' I snicker.

'Hurry!' They shout as I stand up.

'Im going, im going!' I assure them, and make my way to the bar. I look behind me, to find the girls giving me thumbs up and waving their hands in shooing motions.

I hear a low whistle coming from the pool table nearby, and turn to see a man looking at me up and down. Staring at my bare legs and slightly seathrough dress, it was the middle of summer after all.

I wink at him in good spirits as I turn back and saunter toward the bar, sidling up to the handsome cowboy. He observes his whiskey glas and says 'I was startin' to think you'd never come.' A charming smile on his lips.

I sat down, 'You doubtin' your abilities?'

He shook his head and met my eyes, 'No, ma'am. I just dont like being presumtious.'

'Confident, not boastful. I like that.' I told him truthfully.

'I was hopin' so.' He said, that charming smile making its way back to his lips, 'You seem to be a popular girl.' Eyeing the man who whistled at you.

I wave the bartender down, 'That bother you?' I ask, and give the bartender my order.

The cowboys eyes drift over my body, admiring what he sees. Nothing the way my leg is poking out of the slit in my sundress. 'No ma'am.' He jerks his head, then says under his breath, 'I can see why.' And smiles to himself.

'What was that?' I asked, the sound of a crowded bar dulling my hearing.

He points at the bartender, 'Told him to put it on my tab.' He lazily excuses. The bartenders nods hesitantly, looking at me for confirmation.

I hummed in agreeing, a smile tugging on my lips, 'I can pay for myself y'know.'

'I never doubted.' He said with a genuine smile, 'Please, let me be a gentleman miss.'

I put my hads up, 'Well, alright.'

He tipped his hat to me in gratitude. I observed his features as he did the same, 'You never told me your name.' I tilted my head to the side, looking deeply into his eyes as if I could tell the name from the hue of blue alone.

'My real names James, but they call me Buck out here.' a gleam of mischief appearing in his eyes. Making me eager to know why, I already had a few guesses. 'And yours, miss. . .?'

I shook my head, looking at him through my lashes in challenge 'Now, that. . . You'll have to earn.'

He nodded and pursed his lips, my answer seemed to humour him, 'Thats a challenge im willin' to accept.' He told me.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our drinks. The tension hung in the air around us, and so did the origin of his name, acuriosity eventually got the better of me.

'So, why do they call you Buck anyway. If I may ask that is.'

He laid one arm on the bar, holding his glass and leaning against it for support 'You may guess, I'll tell you if its right. Scouts honor..' He answered, his voice cheeky.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile threatened my lips, 'S'pouse thats fair.' I studied him, his clothes were well worn, nicely fitted but roughed up and dirty. 'Farmer maybe-' I began and he was about to cut in, to answer for me, but I stopped him, 'Hold on, thats not my final guess.'

I reached for his hands, opening them to look at their state. Big and calloused, 'Hard worker, it seems. Your hands are at the very least.' I pointed out and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes.

'Thats a promise darlin'.' He said earnestly, but with a hint mischief in his tone. And supposedly nothing ulterior behind his words. I took his chin between my fingers, moving his head so I could get a good look at his face. A few scrapes, same with his hat.

'Can I look at your hat?' I asked, and he obliged, taking it off of him.

He leaned forward, his eyes ruefull 'You can try it on if you want.' He said in a low voice, ment for my ears only.

'Is that right?' I teased, pleased expression on on face.

'I think it'd suit you.' He told me, shrugging.

'Could you roll your sleeves up for me?' I asked him, ignoring the latter. Nothing ulteiror behind my words either, supposedly.

But man, as he rolled them up and I saw those strong veiny arms? Something definitley set aflame inside me. But I also noticed a big bruise under his forearm, leading up to his elbow, as if he'd fallen on it.

'It wouldnt be my first time wearin' a cowboys hat, boy. Not my first rodeo either.' I said. A smile spreading across his face as he nodded, approvingly. 'Speaking of, you do rodeo dont you?'

'Yes, ma'am.' He said, impressed by my deduction.

'You strong in the saddle, that why they call you Buck?'

'I stay on, most of the time.' He admitted.

I hummed, 'Theres something more to it though, isnt there?' I asked, and he nodded. 'You got a reputiation for bucking cowgirls out of the saddle?' I joked.

He laughs, but doesnt deny it.

The bartender cuts in, 'Indeed, he does.' And winks at me, I return a flattered smile. He leans toward me, resning his forearms on the counter 'Next drink 's on the house, little lady.' He whispered, a flirtatious smile on his lips.

'Why, thank you.' I said politley, ignoring the bad flirting.

The cowboy looked between the two of you, chuckled, then settled his gaze on the bartender.

'Careful there Chief, I already had my eyes on this one.' He said and nodded his head in my direction.

The bartender, whos aparent name is Chief, smiled at Buck, 'Yeah well, you cant have em' all.' Chief said in a gruff voice and gave me a quick look, smiling confidently. When he looked back, the cowboy had raised his eyebrows in question, wordlessly comunicating something along the lines of "You sure you wanna do this?"

The bartender licked his lips, thoughts of regret circling his head.

'Boys, boys. . .' I tried, a bad attempt at calming them.

The bartender closed the distance between him and Buck in long pompous strides, leaning over the bar slowly, settled his head next to him in a calm and collected motion, then kept his voice low but hasty 'C'mon Buck, you can get any girl you want. Let me have this one, please.' He begged, his voice betraying him as its high-pitched nature shone through.

His bad attempt at a whisper made me giggle, and earned me a smirk from Buck.

'I believe that fine lady over there can hear just fine, bud.' He whispered back, making the bartender look at me in horror. Quickly rebuilding the facade of confidence over his face and the flirtatious smile to go with it. However, nervousity was making it crack. 'Besides.' Buck continued, 'Nothing says she'll chose either of us.'

I looked between the men, it was an obvious choice. 'Reputation or not, I'll accept that challenge.'

He met my eyes with a grin, grabbing the top of his hat and placed it on my head. He pulled my hair back from my face and laid it behind my shoulder so he could see my face better. I could hear chearing from our left, we both looked and saw the girls whooping and clapping.

The bartender backed off in defeat, but a smile clad his face.

'So you were a scout?' I teased, a humored expression on my face.

'Yes, ma'am.' He nodded, forgetting he didnt have his hat to tip. So I did it for him.

I laid my hand on the nape of his neck, burrying my hand in his hair, 'So, how about it cowboy. Wanna take me for a ride?'

He smiled and bit his lip, 'I thought you'd never ask.'

He took my hand and led me to his car in a hurry, we ran through the dim, rainy night and next thing I know im sitting on top of him in the backseat of his truck.

I kiss him fiercly, eager to taste him. Hes trying to slow me down, but im aching for more him. 'Girl.' He says, trying to grab my attention as I kiss his jaw. And when I dont stop, he cups my face and pushes me backward so that he can get a look at me, 'Slow down.' He whispers, stroking a strand of hair behind my ear as he studies my face. 'Theres no hurry. I want all of ya', not a second.' He says and smiles.

I wasnt used to this, I had one-night stands before for sure. But they we're always in a hurry, using me for my body and nothing else. Bucks comment made me blush, suddenly shy. I had to turn my face the other way as I realised that he was actually paying attention to me, and not just chasing his own pleasures. 'Sorry.' I said under my breath.

'No need to apologize girl.' He assured, hand reaching for my chin. Gently taking it between his fingers and turning my head to face him.

'Youre a real gentleman, arent you?' My smile was faint, as I thought about previous encounters. Memories making me appreciate his soft touch.

'I try.' He grins, not in an egotistical way, but rather proudly. 'Thats how I was raised.' He nodded, stroking a line over my lips with his thumb, 'Just, beautiful. . .' He mumbles, as his eyes follow his thumb, observing the movement of my lips.

'They did one hell of a job.' I say, kissing his cheek.

'They'd appreciate that, I was one hell of a gangster growing up.' He chuckled as his hands fell to my shoulders, and continued sliding down my arms, taking both straps of my dress with him.

'A gangster with manners, who treat women right.' I pointed out, a sigh leaving me as his touch aling with the cool air prickled my skin.

'Well.' He paused, his eyes flickering over my exposed skin as he squeezed his way down my arm in massaging motions. 'I would be nothing without the women in my life.' He says, kissing my shoulder 'Men would be nothing without women, to put it simply.'

His words caused me to bite my lip, a pulse settling deep in my uterus. I lean into him, unbuttoning his shirt and slide my hands underneath. Feeling his warm skin and strong muscles under my fingertips. His shirt catches on my wrists and I slide it off of his shoulders, then drape my arms around him and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. 'Just when I thought you couldnt turn me on more.' I whisper and kiss him gently.

He grunts appreciatively, 'Oh how you'll take those words back when youre screamin' my name sugar.' He says and kisses his way along my neck. Stirring the butterflies in my stumache.

I kiss along his jaw as his lips reach my cheekbone and eventually we meet lip to lip, ghosting eachother as he leans his forehead against mine. 'You're perfect doll.' He says under his breath, his air alone tasting divine. I blush and close the final distance between us, kissing his lips.

Heat builds within us as our movements grow hungry. His hands roam my body, rubbing my thighs and grabbing my waist. 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, desperation in his voice. Whimpering almost, but not quite.

'Mhmm.' I hum, and slide the straps down my arms. The dress falls down my torso and bunches at my hips. A sharp intake of breath comes from him as his eyes study me, the curve of my breasts, waist, and everything else. This time, however, I dont turn shy. Because I know that there is nothing but admiration behind his gaze, his eyes basically turning heart-shaped.

'May I?' He looks at me, pleading, begging.

'Yes, please.' I Whimper.

And in the flash of a second, hes on me. Hunching down to take my breasts into his mouth, hungerly sucking. I moan, my breaths heavy as the smacking and slurping sound of his mouth on my flesh symphonises. The windows begin fogging up, clouding the view of the parking lot, hiding our identities but showing our intentions.

His hands slide over my thighs and under my dress, toying with the hem of my panties. Pulling on them and then letting go, making them snap back and sting my skin. I yelp from the sudden sensation, he let's out a muffled laugh against my skin. I bite my lip and burry my hands in his hair to gently pull at my pleasure.

His hands move under my panties, holding my hips in place. I grind down on his lap and immidietly, my core touches his erection. We both freeze, he let's go of my breasts and pull back to look at me. Our eyes meet, gazes flickering between eachothers eyes in silent communication. Eventually, we both agree.

Under the sound of rain hitting the truck, we clash together in a feverish kiss as I unbuckle his belt and zipp down his jeans, he rips my panties apart and pulls his member out. Our movements are hasty and filled with want, needing the other so incredibly bad. I sit up as Buck lines himself up with my entrance, we lock eyes and I slide down onto him, his size filling me perfectly.

We gasp in unisome as the sensation sinks in, smiles chasing our lips.

I start moving and he grips my hips to help my movements. Soon, we have set a needy rhythm, both chasing our highs. He leans back to take in the sight, my breasts bouncing along with the rest of my body. I move my hands to take his hat off, but he shakes his head. 'That hat shows your mine, girl.' He says between the smacking of our skin, luring a smile onto my lips, 'And Id like to keep it that way.' Panting, a grin spreading over his face.

My knees grow weak as pressure builds within me and my movements grow irregular, a whimper manifesting in my throat. Buck circles his arms around me, pulling me close to him and suspends me above his lap as he begins thrusting into me roughly. 'I got ya', such a good girl.' He whispers, doing the all the work for me.

My stumache flitters from his words, 'Fuck.' I moan, 'Just like that, Buck.' My breathing becomes ragged as his strong arms hold me.

I rest my head on his shoulder, his thrusts rocking my body entire body. My gaze drifts to the condensation on the windows, observing how the water droplets bunch and grow bigger as they slide down the glas. My vision blurring, 'Im close, Buck.' I whisper, 'Fuck me.'

He lets out a breathy chuckle, 'Thats what I've been doin'.' I adjust my hips, so that I can grind my clit against his abdomen. I shut my eyes hard as I'm tipping over the edge.

'Let me hear you doll.' He moans.

I moan a string of curses, screaming his name as I topple over the edge. He's thrusts falter and he grunts as his own orgasm arrives right after mine. He comes deep inside of me and let's up on his hold around me. He moves his hand to my back, gently massaging circles while the other stokes hair from my sweaty forhead. I slide down onto his lap, member still inside me as we exchange exhausted breaths.

Suddnely-

A knock sounds on one of the windows, startling me terribly. I yelp, 'Holy shit!' pushing myself closer to Bucks chest in an attempt to cover some of my naked body.

'Sorry!' The man said, 'Didnt mean to scare ya' lady.' hastily turning his face away, profile cloudy through the window. He cleared his throat and continued, 'It's getting rowdy in there Buck, I could really use some backup.' His voice reminding me of the bartender.

'Fuck. . .' Buck sighs, 'I'll be right there chief.' And the bartender leaves. Hastily, but not rushing, he helps me dress, pulling up my dress straps and reaching into the passenger seat for his worker-jacket to wrap around my shoulders.

I smile, 'Thank you.' And pull my arms through the sleeves, 'You really don't have though.'

His eyebrows furrow, 'Of course I do.' He says matter of factly, sounding very confused.

'But you'll need your jacket.' I protest.

He grins, 'So? You'll be returnin' it tomorrow.' He grabs my waist and lifts me off of him, the sound of his member sliding out of me making a sick suctioning sound and he tucks himself away.

I tilt my head in question, my turn to be confused. 'Tomorrow?' I ask, as he opens the truck door and steps out, holding his hand out for me to take and looking at me expectantly. I give him a slanted smile, his kindness making me feel undeserving, I forget his earlier statement. I slide my hand into his and shake my head, almost in disbelief. 'You're too kind.'

'I'm not, and you'll learn that you're worth it.' He says, meeting my eyes and shutting the door behind me. I blush, and look away. But he grabs my face and turns me to face him, he smiles and strokes my cheek with his thumb. 'I was hoping you'd stay over, I'll take my jacket tomorrow when it's warmer.'

Warmth spreads inside me, partly because of Bucks seed still in me. I clamp my walls shut to avoid it leaking out while I'm standing. 'I'd love to cowboy, but I gotta tell my friends, and use the bathroom. . .'

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, then it hits him, 'Oh right.' He chuckles, grabbig his hat to ruffle my hair with it. 'Yes ma'am, of course.' He says and kisses my temple, then laces his fingers together with mine and lead me back towards the bar.

'Hey.' He says, stopping in his tracks 'Have I earned your name yet?' He gently yanks me back, snaking his arms around me.

'I'd say so.' I chuckle, standing on my tiptoes and leaning closer, whispering my name into his ear. Then stand back.

Buck grins, 'Just as beautiful as the rest of ya' he says, and pulls me into a kiss.

[drak3n]

ELECTRICIAN!TOJI

CONTENT WARNINGS: fwb to lovers trope, fluff, smut, he fucks you in your kitchen, single dad!toji, he’s a little possessive, reader is implied to be a bit younger than him (5+years)

sena’s note: i was going to write mechanic!toji first but changed my mind after seeing too much of that on tumblr. tattoo artist/piercer!choso is up next!

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who was going to enjoy a saturday home with his preschooler, having told his employer specifically that he wasn’t going to take any jobs today

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ended up getting an onslaught of calls by said employer anyway and nearly slammed his fist into his phone screen if it wasn’t for megumi sitting next to him and watching a cartoon on the tv

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who grimly pulled up to your house in his car with megumi sitting in the back, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding megumi’s hand with the other

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI whose scowl faltered at the sight of you opening the door, looking nervous yet thankful at the same time; who couldn’t deny that your little smile tugged at his heartstrings

“i’m so sorry, sir. i wouldn’t have insisted for your employer to send someone if i had known—”

this was the fifth time in a row you’d apologized to the man while he was busy checking your outlets and wirings. he had immediately noted that the outlets you were using were burning hot, his nose picking up on a faint burning smell you were somehow oblivious of.

megumi was seated on your couch, kicking his chubby legs as he chewed on a chocolate bar you had handed him after his daddy agreed.

“it’s good that you insisted, ma’am. check this out,” his gruff voice cut you off as he beckoned you over with his finger to check behind a loose outlet in your bedroom. you gasped as you bent over, just to see a cable inside the outlet that was severely melted and had darkened in color. “that… i never plugged anything in that lately. how did that happen?”

toji set his toolbox down on the floor next to the outlet, shaking his head at how the outlets were wired in this apartment. whoever was here last, or at all, had done a shitty ass job, that was for sure. “when’s the last time you had an electrician over?”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who gaped when you told him you never hired an electrician ever since you had moved into this place, which was a little over two years ago

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who felt bad about the state your place was in and how clueless you were, and did something he never thought he’d do — pausing when he spotted your leaking tab in the kitchen, and fixing it as well without expecting anything in exchange, earning himself a million words of gratitude

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who noticed how sweet you were to megumi, offering him snacks and talking to him about school and his friends, and who soon found out that you worked with children

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who left your place the same evening after having denied a hefty tip — something he had never done once in his life — and having gotten invited to come over for dinner next saturday along with his little boy to repay him with a homemade, nice meal =)

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who found himself coming over more often, with or without megumi, and whenever it was the latter, it ended with him being balls-deep inside of you at some point

“t—toji, r—right there! fuck, so good!”

the older, bulky man took it as a sign to dive his hips harder into your tiny body as he bent you over the kitchen counter. he could tell you had never really been satisfied by a man before. it was no wonder; men your age just couldn’t do it the way an experienced and older man like him could.

the harsh fabric of his work pants rubbed against your bare ass with every thrust, and you mewled and squealed as his thick cock hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly.

“mhm? say what, princess?” his veiny, calloused, huge hands were on either side of your head and your hole tightened embarrassingly at that. toji was a sexy man, and he fucking knew it. guys your age could never compare to who was rearranging your guts right now.

“never… never had a dick as—good as yours!” you were sobbing at this point, delirious from the pleasure he was giving you. “n—no one ever fucked me this— shit! ‘m cumming!”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who explicitly told you he wasn’t the type to commit, that he was the type to hook up and move on; and who was first delighted that you didn’t seem to mind fucking with no strings attached either

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who soon grew displeased when he came over one day to see a shirt that was not his (it was obviously too small for his muscular built) in your room

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who never fucked you any rougher than he did on that day, and who didn’t even look into your face once

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who stopped visiting you in hopes of forgetting you, knowing it was just him thinking with his dick whenever you crossed his mind, who denied having actually grown fond of a woman’s entire being and not just her pussy

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who begrudgingly came to the realization that he couldn’t look at other women the same anymore after he met you; who would always lower his gaze when other female clients who were obviously attracted to him tried to show off their bodies or charm him, which left him cold and unaffected

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ditched his useless pride for once and showed up in front of your door one noon to take you out properly, and not spend time in your shitty and malfunctioning apartment

[starboye]

starring: rafe cameron x male reader

request: rafe cameron fucking his slutty bubble butt boyfriend after catching another man grinding on him at the club and rafe spanks him until reader is crying and at some point rafe makes him twerk while he’s still fucking him and if he stops he gets spanked

warnings: smut, cursing, drunk sex, alcohol, semi-public sex, dacryphilia, ass slapping

rafe decided to treat you to a night out at a club so you could have some fun after him not hanging out with you for a while, the music was loud and the drinks were overwhelming but it did help you loosen up from your tenseness "c'mon rafe just dance with me" you beg trying to pull him from the chair he sat in but he wasn't budging "nope i'm good right here, plus i like watching you dance instead" rafe said sipping on his beer in hand.

"fine" you huff letting go of his hand and walking to the dance floor, swaying your ass for his eyes as you walked away, you both knew you were a pro when it came to teasing him and with the way those shorts were riding up your ass it was getting hard for him to control his urges, wanting to drag you to somewhere private and fuck the hell out of you but he held back and let you have your fun for now.

he noticed his beer was a little empty and rose from his spto to get a new and in this brief moment somehow he came back to see you grinding up on some random man, the second he saw this his jaw clenched and it looked like he could break the bottle with how tight he was holding it, placing it on the table side and pushing his way through the sea of people to get to you.

he grabbed your arm snapping you out of your quite dazed and drunk state, panic setting in your face when you realized you were grinding your ass on another man "who the fuck are you" the man spoke "his fucking boyfriend" rafe sternly said holding back from punching the man in his face and just dragged you away and out the bar "and you question why i don't take you to the bar" rafe mutters pinching the bridge of his nose as you whined at him taking you from having fun.

"and was the fun you trying to fuck another guy" rafe asks in an enraged tone "i wasn't gonna fuck him i was just a little to drunk" you shyly mummer, rafe looked at you and then looked around to see an empty alley, dragging you to it as you stumbled over your own feet "well since you wanna have some fun then lets have some fun" rafe says pushing you onto the wall and unzipping his pants to let his hard on fall out.

he pulls your pants down to reveal you nice ass for him, he lathers his tip with some spit and slides into you with a moan, you letting out a small whimper, rafe holds your hands above your head as he thrusts into you with some but not a lot of force "yeah so fucking good f'me" rafe mutters as his hips begin moving on their own into you, he lays a small slap on your ass to watch it jiggle on his dick, making a small tear fall on your cheek which catches rafes attention.

ha smacks your ass again making you whine and another tear to drop, he was getting pleasure from punishing you for being such a slut "yeah you're such a slut right, just love throwing your ass on men right" rafe asks turning your head to look at him, your eyes having a coat of water over them as tears brim in the corners "mm mm" you shake your head "well then what would you call that in the club" rafe asks.

"since you can do that to him you can damn sure do it for me right" rafe smirks stopping his movements into you and slapping your ass to make you fuck yourself on his cock, you slowly move back and forth on him, slowing for just a second making rafe slap your ass once more "keep going" rafe demands and you obey, resuming your actions slowly with the sweet degrading words of rafe, him leaning his head onto your shoulder and grabbing your chin to turn your face to slightly look at him.

"such a good fucking slut for me right baby, just love the way my cock fits in you" he lowly says kissing your neck, one hand keeping your ass moving around his dick "just want me to fill you with my cum huh" rafe asks moving his hand to jerk you off "might just keep you home, fuck you so your don't have to go out and try to fuck other men" rafe says in a sultry tone tightening his hand, wanting you to cum with him.

"m'close" rafe says and you nod signaling you are too "f-fuck" you croak before you cum into rafes hands with a small moan and rafe soon following behind as he spills his load into you making you both feel so good "rafe" you say before falling into rafes arms "let's get you home light weight" rafe laughs bridal carrying you to his truck and driving home.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being in a secret relationship with the one and only Gojo Satoru.

Imagine sitting in a bar, colored light pointed everywhere as you silently stare at your surroundings. Casually taking a sip of your drink as you lean back on your seat, head bobbing up and down along the music. How boring.

"He's been staring at you ever since we came here." "Who?" You raise a brow but did not spare your friend a glance and proceeds to take another sip of your drink. It was sweet, alcoholic but sweet. "Gojo Satoru from business department, you know. That guy with white hair, blue eyes-" "And the one who always wears tinted glasses, right. Who wears that indoors and not to mention at midnight." You chuckle, setting your empty cup down before standing up. "Gotta go to the bathroom."

Imagine looking at the mirror, your own reflect staring at you as you turn your face to the side to take a good look at your features. Unlike the other day there your hood and glasses would hide away your face, it was one of those days where you feel like stepping out of your shell and have fun. Well, more like to pissed off your boyfriend that was surely waiting for you out of the door. Making sure you're presentable as you arrived, you take one last glance in the mirror before walking your way out in the bathroom.

"Hey there." There was your boyfriend in his fitted white shirt that was hugging his body so well his well toned body could be seen. "Why hello to you too, Gojo." You smile at him before walking past him, if only he didn't block you on your way back into your friend's table. "No baby, you ain't going anywhere." He said as he grab a hold of your wrist pulling you at the back as you just stare at him in amusement, looking around for a moment only to find his best friend, Suguru shaking his head at the scene of you two before looking away like it was none of his business.

"So?" You cross your arms, looking directly at his eyes underneath those tinded glasses he was wearing. Something you will never understand at the same time you do kind of appreciate it. Because you know as soon as he remove that, people would be all over him, going crazy at his baby blue eyes. "What please do I owe you?" "You told me you're going out for some fun, what are you doing here?" "Pfffff" "Why are you laughing?" "I think it's funny how much a lo- heh, how someone like you could meddle in my life like this."

Imagine the way he flinch under your watch, his jaw tense as his hand curl into a fist. "What?" You laugh, one hand reaching out to touch and trace his jaw. "Are you mad, Satoru?" You chuckle before your hand travel on the back of his head and tugging him down harshly so he was on the same level as you. At the same time, his other hand lean on the wall for support, his glasses on the tip of his nose on the verge of fallling. This time, he was glaring at you like crazy. "Remember this is your arrangement not mine and just like how you don't want me to meddle with yours, I advice you not to meddle with mine to or who knows what could possibly happen." You push him away, about to walk of but he just won't move.

Imagine it's not like you wanted this to happened. He was the one who wanted to keep your relationship a secret, the one who said you cannot meddle with each out in public. And to be honest it's not that you didn't see where he was coming from, you were just this normal person, one among the crowd in the campus. Living differently from him who lived so well off along side his buddies. He was the heir into the Gojo industries. And you, you're just you, someone who have nothing to lose, nothing to offer.

"Move." You repeat when he doesn't move, trapping you between him and the wall. "Satoru move, others are starting to look." You whispered, gripping on his close before taking a deep breathe and relax. You tap him twice in the chest, refusing an eye contact as you gently push him away. Going in this bar was definitely a bad idea. You shouldn't have come out of pettiness. "Satoru, your fiancée is about to get over here, move." As soon as he said that, you felt him when stiff before immediately pulling away from you. "Well talk later." "You're coming home with her, we have nothing to talk about." "(First name)-" "Come to think about it. It's about time." "What do you-" "I'm done being your secret, goodbye Satoru." "... wait-" "Satoru!"

Imagine without thinking too much about it, you walk back in your booth like nothing happened and immediately drown yourself with more drinks. It's not like you don't understand where he was coming from. You knew that he loves you. You knew that damn well that he was hurting too. But while he got the whole world around his palm, you only have him. You only have him yet you cannot even call him mine. You're tired. You love him but you're tired.

Imagine if you knew that loving him would hurt like this. You would have turn the other way around the first time you saw him. Loving him was a losing game. "Hey, thats enough."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

[theemporium]

Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.

It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship. 

He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.

And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.

Until he met you. 

The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.

Luke was the first to notice something really odd.

“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.” 

And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”

And then it was Nico.

“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.” 

It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.

But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes. 

It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.

“Are those your own skates?” 

You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.

“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”

“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.

“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes. 

“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?” 

You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head. 

“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”

Ellen simply smiled in response.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression. 

“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.

“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.

You watched him closely. “Jack?”

“Hm?” 

“How much did these skates cost?” 

The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over. 

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up. 

“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”

His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”

“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”

“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.

You shot him a look.

“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”

“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”

Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”

.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

your first time on omegle wasn’t that bad.

warnings: male masturbation, a bit of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

word count: 2.2k

the idea came to my head when i was working, lately i've been struggling with writing. maybe i'll turn it into a little series, idk. hope you enjoy it :3

you never thought about joining omegle ever. you saw compiled videos of people who entered, a simple platform that connected people from different parts of the world. it seemed fun, a perfect pass time. besides, you could meet someone nice. not that you're looking for it in the first place, but it was something you would accept if it came along. 

but you were aware of the cons. your friends used to say that it was a trap, especially because of the perverts on duty. for every 10 people you find on omegle, at least 7 are men masturbating in front of the camera. a proper “hello, nice to meet you”.

anyway, you decide to take a shot. friday night, your parents went out for dinner and you had the whole house to yourself for the night, or at least until 11pm. it was the perfect opportunity, you didn't want to be interrupted or that your parents knew that you were talking to strangers on the internet.

you were in your bedroom, the dim lights of the lamp bring a more comfortable environment to your room. you closed the curtains, then went to your small table that you used to study, picked up your laptop and placed it on the mattress of your bed, right between your legs.

it didn't take long for your laptop to turn on. your eager fingers typed on the browser's search bar to access the website. you wondered if it would be a good idea to show your face on camera. maybe not at first. so, you took your laptop from between your legs, placing it next to you while you pulled the covers up to cover yourself up to your nose, leaving only the area around your eyes visible.

you didn't really know what to expect, if you could stay there for just 1 minute or 1 hour. but you were determined to try. because, besides being curious, you were bored.

without wasting much time, you clicked to enter the website.

almost 30 minutes and you only had a five minute conversation with a girl from wisconsin because she saw your poster on your wall. the rest, just disappointing, even disgusting. it was really impossible for you to skip to the next conversation with someone else without a cock appearing on your screen, almost slapping on your face, if it were possible.

at this point, your finger was glued to the mouse, just clicking to skip the chat, without even introducing yourself or letting others introduce themselves. then, when you clicked on the next one, already thinking about passing, you came across something a bit unusual, but not so different from what you had seen before in previous "conversations".

yeah, it was a guy masturbating, naturally. but in a way, it was different. it wasn't as explicit as the others; it was something more shy, more subtle. the lights in the room where he was were like the ones in your bedroom, dim and cozy, but they didn't leave much to the imagination because his monitor screen illuminated what was in front of you.

he must have had a laptop like you, but it wasn't in a bed, but on a desk, perfectly positioned so that he could sit in a comfortable chair on his side. his toned body wasn't very lit, leaving little to your imagination. his left hand was on the desk, probably to use the mouse or keyboard, while his right hand was lowered.

oh, you were mesmerized, even though you hated to admit it.

the way he was moving his right hand torturously slowly, showing so little. you could only see its pink tip glistening, his thumb sliding easily there in a caress while the other fingers were wrapped in the rest of his length that you couldn't see. and just like you, he wasn't showing his face. he was just there, touching himself slowly, his chest rising and falling in the same calm rhythm. somehow, you liked that. you didn't know if you should say something, if you should leave.

you felt like you were interrupting the moment, but hey, if he was there on omegle, he wanted to be seen, right?

your eyes watched him intently, until you saw his left hand typing something on the keyboard. soon, the message popped on the chat.

''too stunned to speak?''

you blinked a few times, shaking your head and deciding to answer him without typing on the chat.

''kinda.'' you replied shyly. he chuckled lowly.

''i can show you more if you want.'' he replied back, his voice was low too, a bit rough.

''i think it's good like this.'' you said and he hummed, not showing more than you wanted to see. well, at least he was respectful. you thought he would move on to the next chat, but he just kept doing his thing, aware that you're watching him.

‘’you have pretty eyes." he said at one point. you raised your eyebrows. you weren't expecting a compliment at that moment.

''thanks. uhm... you got a nice... well...'' you said, trying to compliment him somehow, but you didn't know exactly how. a nice cock, definitely. at least from what you could see.

‘’a nice cock?’’ he chuckled, as if he were reading your thoughts. ‘’yeah, most people say it.’’

''you've shown it many times, i suppose.'' you replied, and he chuckled again. there was something about him chuckling that left you with a pool on your lower belly. something warming inside you.

''well, not that often. i'm a shy guy, ya' know?'' he said, his thumb pressing right on his slit, making him hiss and you shifted on your bed.

''a shy guy who shows his cock to the camera but doesn't show his face.'' you said, feeling bolder.

he hummed, his head lowering a bit so you could have a glimpse of his chin. besides having a nice cock, he also had a perfectly shaped jaw.

''guilty as charged. but what can i do? 'm just some guy trying to have some fun for free on the internet, don't mind me.'' he said, his forearm flexing a bit when he closed his fist on his tip, sliding down, the foreskin also coming down to show the tip more.

you're lucky he couldn't see your face from the nose down, or else he would see you licking your lips like you were looking at a full meal in front of you. you couldn't help yourself. he was teasing you, and he knew it.

''what about you? what are you doing here this friday night? no slumber party with friends?'' he asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

“i'm bored. i just wanted someone to talk to.'' you shrugged. you weren't lying, actually.

‘'kind of hard to find someone to talk to around here, huh?'' he asked, chuckling about the situation.

''yeah, but... we're talking now, aren't we?''

''while i'm jerking myself off, yeah.'' he added. ''hope you don't mind.''

''i don't mind, don't worry.''

''and why don't you mind?'' he asked, genuinely curious. not even you knew how to say that. at the moment, you were actually enjoying talking to him. especially since you could also see what he was doing.

you didn't need to lie, you were strangers to each other there. at worst, you could just skip the chat and he would be gone forever.

''i kind of liked watching you touch yourself. you're not like the others, explicit and stuff. i like how you do it.'' you replied, watching how his grip on his length seemed to tighten a little. he seemed to like what you said. fueled something inside him.

''yeah, you liked it, eh? that's good to know. i'm glad i'm being able to fill your boredom.'' he said, his hand moving up and down in a controlled rhythm. oh, you wish he could fill more than your boredom. ''you know, i like your voice. can you keep talking to me?''

''what do you want me to say?'' you asked, his left hand gesturing for you to say anything you wanted.

''anything. tell me what you like to do.'' he said, his hand keeping the pace, his breathing a bit ragged. fuck, you thought that it was so hot, you barely could think on tell something about you when you saw him touching himself like that.

‘’i like to read, to take some lazy afternoon’s strolls, listen to some old tunes from the 80’s and…’’ you listed, but you could barely concentrate. the sight of him was lingering in your mind more than you cared to admit, making you feel warmer and warmer, rubbing your thighs together under the blanket to get some kind of relief.

''mhm, keep talking, darling.'' he said in a whisper, his head was back against the back of the chair, his adam's apple was protruding even more as he swallowed hard, his chest moving up and down at the same pace as his hand.

you could praise him. you should praise him.

''and i like your body. the way your hand moves. pretty endearing and...'' you said, biting your lip slightly.

''oh fuck, i bet you wished that it was your hand here, eh?'' he hummed, his voice had a deep tone, a bit ragged from his breathing.

“maybe. i think i could take care of you in no time.” you countered, his hand moved faster, letting out a strangled moan as he came, the thick and slimy release hitting his chest, making a mess on himself.

“oh, fuck, fuck…” he panted, standing still for a few moments, his chest rose and fell rapidly, his hot and fresh cum running down his chest like tears of pleasure. 

you couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the scene. not that you've never seen it before, but somehow it was different. he was different.

“gotta clean this mess.” he muttered to himself after regain some of consciousness, looking at his own mess on his body. you watched as he got up, catching a brief glimpse of his boxers which were pulled down to mid-hip.

you kept silent, somehow thinking you should wait for him to clean himself up before you could say something. 

“just for the record, that never happened before. i mean… it usually only happened when the person was also doing something, touching herself, anyway..." he said as he sat again, holding a tissue on his right hand. he seemed kind of embarrassed that it had happened, and you felt sort of proud. you didn't needed to do anything more.

“it's okay, i liked it.” you replied, reassuring him as he wiped the last restraints off his stomach. then, you could see his face since he was looking down. 

he might not have even realized you saw his face, he was too worried about cleaning himself and you were too worried about seeing how handsome he was.

“you’re pretty.” you let it slip out your lips. he widened his eyes slightly, his eyeballs glanced at the screen, and soon he let out an awkward laugh.

“you weren't supposed to see my face, you know?" he chuckled, crumpling the tissue into a little ball, throwing it directly into the trash can where it was. 

“you faltered, i guess.” you shrugged. he repeated your motion, adjusting his camera so you could see him properly. pretty eyes, pretty lips. such a pretty and big nose. “pretty handsome.”

“yeah, too bad i can't say the same to you.” he teased and you frowned. “you're not showing your face, silly.”

it was a good move. you chuckled, wondering if it would be a good idea to show him your face. it wasn't like you were going to see each other again, was it?

you pulled the blanket off the other half of your face, showing yourself to him. he let out a low whistle and you rolled your eyes, slightly flattered.

“nothing special here.”

“how dare you? your face is as beautiful as your voice.” he complimented you. you couldn't help but feel the butterflies in your stomach do a flip. “i'm alex, by the way.”

right after you said your name back to him, you listened to the sound of your parents' car pulling into the garage of your house. you sighed, muttering a "shit" that he couldn't help but hear. 

“your parents arrived, hm?" he deduced and you gave a crooked smile, nodding with your head. 

“yeah, i have to go.” you gave a slight pout and he mimicked your gesture, eliciting a chuckle from you. you didn't want to leave, you wish you could talk to him more.

“yeah, don't worry. it was nice to talk to you.” he said, giving a slight and shy nod as if he wasn't jerking himself off a few minutes ago in front of you. 

you could listen to the footsteps of your parents around near the house, your father's heavy footsteps contrasting with the dry thud of your mother's heels as she came closer to open the front door.

“um, before you go…” he said before you could exit the site. “i'm here every friday night.”

“is this some kind of 'see you later', alex?” you raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging your lips. he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but you could notice the flicker in his eyes, like a silent hope.

“only if you want to, love.”

[springgirlshowers]

ok what about drunk reader getting so wasted to the point where she doesn’t recognize joost but it’s not like angst it’s funny cuz he’s trying to get her home and she’s like “nuh uh i got a bf pal”

My Boyfriends Pretty Cool

Pairing: Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

CW: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, reader being drunk as helllllllll

WC: 1004

A/N: happy monday everybody, hope this helps you get thru ur week <3

You were sitting in a small booth in the corner of the club, Joost had gone out for a smoke with his friends, promising he’d be back soon.

Your friend, who was sitting with you originally, had gone up to counter of the bar, talking to a guy she met earlier.

Now you were sitting alone, waiting for either of them to return.

Joost came back in with the hood of his black jacket up that was wrapped around his waist before due to the cold weather outside, dark and squared sunglasses covered his eyes, dimming down the harsh and colorful light from the dance floor.

He freaked out a tiny bit when he saw you sitting alone, knowing you were already a bit drunk.

“Hey, where’d your friend go?” He asked as he walked up to the table. You looked up at him with a strange look on your face.

“Uh, she just went up to the counter to get some more drinks.” You lied, not recognizing the stranger under the dark glasses and hood.

Joost just gave an understanding nod, sitting down next to you. Noticing the way you scooted away from him.

“You really shouldn’t be sitting so close to me, I have a boyfriend.” You slurred.

“You do?” He tilted his head, catching on.

“Mhm. I don’t think he’d like some random guy sitting next to me.” You raised your brows, taking a drink from your glass.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. What does he look like?”

“He’s got superrr blonde hair. He has a lot of silly tattoos. Anddd he’s very tall. He’s easy to spot in a crowd.”

“Silly tattoos? What do you mean by that?”

“He has one,” You stopped your sentence to giggle, “of crazy frog!” You let out a full blown laugh. A giant grin formed on his face, he began to feel the butterflies in his stomach at the sound of your laugh.

“I used to think it was a dumb tattoo. I kinda like it now. I like to trace them with my fingers when he’s sleeping.” You said, wiping your watery eyes from how hard you were laughing.

Joost was surprised by this new information, he never knew you did that when he was asleep.

“What else is there about him?” He rested his head on his fist.

“Well, he wears glasses a lot, ones kinda like yours.” You tapped your nail on his sunglasses. “But he’s been wearing these pink ones a lot. He’s a fashionista.” Joost laughed at the name you unknowingly called him.

“He puts a lot of effort into his outfits, but I think it’s cute.” You tipped your head against the leather booth.

“Oh! And he’s a musician! He makes music all the time!” You sprang up, so giddy about this subject.

“Wow, really? What type of music?”

“Gabberpop. It’s really weird music, it’s really loud, has a lot of bass and big sounds.” His face hurt so much from smiling, a small laugh leaving him when you tried to sing an instrumental of one of his songs.

“Do you like his songs?” He felt a bit strange, taking advantage of your state to see how you really felt about him. But he always had that bad thought in the back of his mind that you didn’t like a lot of things about him, and he wanted to know the truth.

“Hmmm, I thought they were really weird at first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about them. But I like them a lot now!” His sunglasses hid the blush forming on his face. “I listen to them all the time when he’s not around, like in the car, or when he’s not home, or when I’m out in public with my earbuds in, or when he’s traveling and I miss him.” You giggled as you rambled on, words slurred.

“That’s good. Is he a handsome dude?”

“Absolutely! He’s the prettiest boy I’ve seen.” You sighed happily, rocking side to side.

“Really?” He mumbled nervously.

“Really, really. I love him.” You gazed up, looking like you were daydreaming.

“You seem more interested in him than me.” You looked back at him, narrowing your eyes and whispering.

“Maybe I am.” He shrugged and tilted his head.

“Hm, you’re very kind but I won’t share.”

“That’s understandable, I wouldn’t share either if I had a girl like you.” He said before he got up, giving you a handshake and goodbye.

By the time he was out of your eyesight, he took off his glasses and jacket, wrapping it around his waist again.

He waited for a second before returning to the booth.

“Hey liefje, where did she go?” He asked, referring to your friend.

“She went to go talk to some guy.” You said truthfully this time, feeling safe at the sight of your boyfriend.

“She just left you here alone?” He said as he sat down in the same spot he was just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah. A guy came up to me though.” You muttered awkwardly.

“Huh? Who?” He pretended to look concerned, acting a bit jealous as he would if he did see an actual stranger flirting with you.

“I don’t know. I never got his name, but don’t worry. I told him I already had a boyfriend.”

“Oh. Was he flirting with you at all?” Joost continued on with his facade.

“No I don’t think so, he seemed more interested in you. Asking soooo many questions about you.” You smiled, teasing him.

“Really? That’s strange.” He hummed.

“Maybe, I think he wanted to flirt with you instead.” You giggled again, laying your head down on where your arm was on the wooden table.

“But I was glad he was asking of questions, I like talking about you. I’m just worried I said too much and now he’s gonna try and steal you from me.” You said through a hiccup.

“Oh, no one could ever take me from you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

[marigold-hills]

@wolfstarmicrofic | August 25th: win | 1000 words

CW: attempted mugging, mentions of broken bones

Remus Lupin is well aware what he looks like: the wrong side of lanky, with a nasty scar across his face from falling off a bike at five, and a nastier one down his sternum from heart surgery at fifteen. Weak knees, weaker ankles. Breakable wrists. He surrounds himself in soft things, wears sweaters and cardigans even in the summer, when his varied blood deficiencies keep him cold in the heat.

He doesn’t usually go out in the dark. His library desk job keeps his work hours to a respectable 9-to-5, and he’s not one for bars, or clubs, or any other sort of entertainment that would require him to be out in the evening.

Today? Well, there was a book signing at the library. It run late, and he was having a nice chat with the writer, managing to keep his fan-boying to a minimum (it was the James Potter, after all). There was wine, which he doesn’t usually partake in. So: it’s well past his work hours, he’s pleasantly buzzed and on a high from a successful social interaction. Then he sees him.

It’s probably the most beautiful human specimen Remus’ has ever seen. He was stunning in the library, where he accompanied the James Potter for the signing, and he is just as lovely now, in the dim unflattering streetlamps. The hair, the bone structure, the shoulders. Everything about him made Remus decide not to say a single word to him, only gape half-open-mouthed and watch from across the room.

(Doing it now, as he as good as follows him down darkened South London streets, feels roughly stalkerish. Again, Remus knows what he looks like. He’s got too big ears and slightly too big front teeth and definitely too big a nose. He wouldn’t even try to talk to someone like this, not for all the embarrassment in the world.)

Remus is slower, especially with the crutch he has had to use since he broke his ankle a month earlier. His foot is still in the awkward boot-cuff. There should be no way of him catching up, so no chance of an interaction, successful or, more likely, otherwise.

Out of the shadows, appears a figure. Hooded, wide-shouldered, knife-wielding. The beautiful friend of James Potter doesn’t notice until the man is almost on him, knife pointed at the Nirvana logo on his T-shirt.

Remus can’t hear what’s said, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s lived in South London all his life, from Lambeth to Peckham - he’s seen his fair share of muggings.

Something comes over him. Maybe the late hour, maybe the wine. Maybe the impossible wrongness of a man so pretty being in such a situation. Whatever it is, before he even thinks about it, he’s somehow caught up.

Next thing he knows, he’s behind the mugger.

Next thing after that, the heavy, metal leg of his crutch makes heavy, violent contact with the side of the mugger’s head.

He falls to the ground in a heap of limbs and dark fabric and dropped knifes and for a terrible second Remus thinks:

“Fuck. I think I killed him.”

Through the wine-haze or adrenaline-haze, or maybe your-dodgy-heart-finally-gave-in-haze, he realises he said it out loud.

The pretty man leans down and checks the muggers head, then his pulse. “He’s fine. Well. He’s probably concussed. That was a mean hit,” he looks at Remus with something like appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Remus. Lucky you were here, or he’d have probably made off with my phone.”

“You know my name?” Remus asks rather dumbly. The answer is obvious and self evident because the man just said it.

“Of course I do. I’ve been watching you all night,” the cheekiest smile Remus has ever seen. The man prods the prone mugger with the tip of his shoe. “Who knew it’d take something like this to actually get you to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Remus says. (He has a degree in literature, he should really be able to string a sentence together with some intelligence, but apparently it has abandoned him.)

“Should probably call an ambulance.”

And that brings Remus out of his stupor. “You’re hurt?” He just stops himself from checking the man over, hands itching to reach out and feel for the damage.

“For this one. Can’t really leave him just lying on the side of the road.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“And they’ll probably arrest him, while they’re at it. Win-win.”

“Silver linings.”

The man – Remus doesn’t know his name – laughs at that. It’s oddly dog like and on another person it’d be too much, too loud, but on him? Perfection. Remus wants to ask to record it. Maybe playing it in the evenings will cure his insomnia.

Adrenaline wearing off, Remus realises that his broken ankle hurts way more than it should. More than it has for a while. The same amount as…

“I’ve re-broken my ankle,” he doesn’t mean to blurt out loud. There’s immediate concern in the man’s face. Remus half-sits half-slumps down to the pavement. “Yup. I’m pretty sure I’ve re-broken my ankle. Fantastic.”

That’s what he gets for chasing down would-be-muggers down the streets of London. It’s probably some cosmic price to pay for hearing that laugh. It must be delirium: Remus thinks it’s worth it.

There are gentle hands on the side of his face, guiding it upward, and gentle eyes full on sincerity. “Thank you for helping me,” the man says again, “let’s get you to the hospital, alright?”

Through the pain-haze or wine-buzz-haze or maybe you-just-assaulted-someone-haze, Remus becomes shameless. “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” the man says and the way he looks at Remus? Like he doesn’t have too-big ears and too-big a nose, or the scar, or the hair he can never get to behave.

Remus, more than shameless: “forever, then.”

The laugh he gets in return is somehow even better. There is nothing mocking about it. Instead, agreeable. “Alright. Forever.”

NOTES:

does this count as a meet-cute?

[racinggirl]

promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

[ooffmlsorry]

Hold Me Closer

Law x reader

2.4k words, slow burn for a tumblr post i guess??

A/N: Law is such a touch-starved disaster in this god bless him. Don't worry...this is my last drunk post. I don't wanna accidentally promote alcoholism on this good Christian hellsite I just need to write my fav blorbo drunk and in love once and then I'm good.

CW: drinking, drunk behavior

"You know, for as smart as Law is you really can manipulate him into just about anything," Nami says. "He's no better than Luffy, as soon as you tell him he can't do something he has to go and try it."

"Huh?" You're drunk, and by the look of the Straw Hat's navigator significantly more so than her. (What are the Straw Hats' livers made out of? Steel?)

You follow your gaze to your captain, Trafalgar Law, and feel a giddy bubble of laughter make its way through you. "I'm just happy to see him cut loose for once," you say. From the looks of it he might actually be tipsy. Law’s cheeks are flushed a little and he’s talking animatedly about something. The shine in his eyes captivate you. 

Yeah, you're definitely feeling the effects if you're openly giggling at the sight of him.

Despite your last thought you take another sip of your drink. It stopped tasting sweet and sharp a while ago and is starting to taste more and more like I should be next to him.

"He's so beautiful when he's happy," you mutter.

"What?!" Nami presses her hand flush to her chest and turns to look at you. A mischievous grin passes over her tipsy face, "beautiful, huh?" She pokes your side playfully and giggles. "What's that supposed to mean?”

"Nothing!" You flinch away from her and drain your drink to quench your suddenly dry mouth. "You like seeing Luffy happy! It's the same thing!"

She laughs so loud and so hard she nearly falls out of her chair. "Oh yeah! Sure! But have you ever heard me call Luffy beautiful?"

At that exact moment you watch Luffy snort with laughter and shoot beer out of his nose. 

"Point taken.”

“He’s not my type, that’s for sure,” Nami says.

“No, your type is Alabastan princesses,” you tease back. 

“Hey!” Her ears pink a little more. “It’s not…” she stammers. “You know what! You’re getting me my next drink just for that!” She pushes her empty mug towards you. “Chop! Chop, Y/N! I’m thirsty!” 

You roll your eyes. It’s true all the Straw Hats are bossy in one way or another, no wonder they exhaust Law. You grab her mug and yours and head to the bar for another round.

Your eyes move back to where you last saw Law talking with someone, except he wasn’t there anymore. Where did he go? The room’s crowded with people talking and laughing, yelling and singing. Between the alcohol and another raucous round of Binx’s Sake sung across the banquet, it’s hard to focus. Did he leave already? Disappointment washed over you, but you weren’t surprised. That would be your captain, Trafalgar Law, ever restrained. 

You sighed. Hopefully he didn’t go back to the ship to get more work done. You fill up yours and Nami’s cup and start to head back to your seat. 

“You’re drinking poison, you know that Y/N-ya?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the hot breath against the shell of your ear. Then, you process what was said to you. Poison? Instinctively you reach for a weapon, and then remember you left it behind. 

“What? Law—” 

Barely have room to turn around, he’s standing so close to you. The flush in cheeks is darker than you realized and his dark eyes have lost some of their sharpness. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips. “And you tell me I need to lighten up?” You’re not met with the level of seriousness you normally expect from your captain. “This,” he holds his mug up, only nearly sloshing its contents, “is poison. It’s the ethanol. That’s what slows you down, it’s not all that different from slowly poisoning yourself.” He puts the cup up to his lips and tips it back. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, the muscles of his neck visible to you until they disappear into his collar bones. You wish you could run your fingers down the column of his throat and watch goosebumps rise in your wake. If he would even have anyone.

It must be the drinks. That’s the only reason you can think of to explain why you want to place your hand there and feel his skin. To touch him. 

“Neither of us should be drinking this, Y/N-ya,” he says. There’s no sterness in his tone like he would if he was lecturing you, in fact, you realize your captain’s likely joking with you…in his own way. 

“Well, sometimes you have to die a little to live a little.” You wink at him. 

Law’s lips part a little and his eyes widen. “I–You–” He looks away from you and takes another sip. “That’s your justification? Ridiculous.”

“It sure is!” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you take a small step closer, deciding to tease him a little. After all, he started it first by sneaking up on you, “what’s yours?”   

Law stares at you—speechless. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” You don’t have time to hide your laughter except behind your hand. “You don’t need to justify yourself, Law. I’m just happy you’re here!” 

Warmth spreads across your captain’s face. It travels up to the tips of his ears which look crimson next to his spotted white hat and down his chest to the heart tattoo that rests there. For a moment you fixate on his skin, the ink swirling across it, the blood pumping underneath, a sign that he’s alive and solid, standing in front of you. Curiosity rears its untameable head, how can you know he’s solid if you’ve never touched him? A missing piece of Law sits in front of you and you want. 

“Just don’t drink too much,” he says quickly and side steps to walk around you. 

You watch him go, shaking your head with a smile. “I would say, hope he does the same, but it’d be funny if he didn’t.” 

“Y/N!!” Nami calls. “Where’s my drink!?”

“Coming!” 

Later…

Oh yeah, you’ve done it now. Somewhere between fruitlessly trying to keep up with Nami, drowning your thoughts of Law, and enjoying the party, you’re certain you’ve overdone it…and you’ve only accomplished the latter. 

“That’s enough or I’m gonna die,” you stand up and your head swims. You use the chair you were sitting in to stablize yourself. 

“Boo!” Shachi says weakly. Although his head is resting on the table, barely awake.

“Yeah, Boo!” Nami repeats.“Who’s gonna watch me drain your crew of all their money?!” 

 You shrug,“Bepo will.”

The first mate of the Heart Pirates was laid out on the floor asleep. 

“Any chance you know where Law is?” 

“Last I saw him, he went outside,” Penguin says. He grins and laughs a little before slipping out of his chair with a thud.

Safe to say the Heart Pirates were a crew of light weights. 

You stumble toward the door that leads out to the balcony. Outside the night air is cold enough to send a shiver through you, but Penguin didn’t send you out there for nothing. Law is sitting with his legs between the balcony bars, his head leaning on another. In the light of paper lanterns you saw his hand moving in quick small movements. Next to him sat an empty bottle of umeshu.

“Either you’re jacking off out here or you’re working. Only one of those things would be disappointing to me,” you say. In the back of your mind you know you’d never say something like that out loud but alcohol makes your lips loose. 

The sound Law makes is less than controlled as he jerks a book shut and sits on it. “NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN!”  

You start laughing and fall down next to him unceremoniously, nearly landing flat on your back. “I’m sorry, captain! I couldn’t–I couldn’t help myself!” you howl with laughter. “Please! I didn’t–the joke was just right there!” 

You hear Law grumble-slur something, but he’s either too drunk or too tired to get up and leave you because he stays where he is. 

“I mean it,” you say, catching your breath. “I am sorry. I just came out here to tell you I think the party’s dying down. You can come inside if you want to. It’s only supposed to get colder tonight.” 

“I will when I’m ready,” Law slurs. 

“As always,” you sigh heavily. “I’ve learned to stop expecting you to do something just because I think it’s a good idea

That wins you a brief smile from your captain, a rarity, surely brought out of him by the drink alone. “You…you can stay,” he says quietly. “If you’d like to. I don’t care either way. Really, I don’t. ” 

Normally, you’d at least begin to believe him, but you know your captain…and he’s already draped half of his long blue coat around you. The scent cologne and antiseptic envelope you. 

“You probably should’ve said that before you put your coat around me, Law.” 

He tenses for a moment. The brim of his hat hides his eyes. “Forgive me, Y/N-ya I’m being ridiculous,” he mumbles.

So shy! 

“I was going to stay anyway,” you say, before he can pull away. “And thank you, I’m probably chillier than I know.” 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while connected only by this moment and Law’s coat draped over both of you. You can feel the warmth radiating from his arm, his side, his thigh, all nearly touching you. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

“As long as I don’t remember any of this tomorrow, you can tell me I did.” 

“Good!” You chirp. “I’ll take it!” 

Law picks up the bottle and takes a long pull. “Did you?” 

“Yup! It’s the first party I’ve been to in a long time. Actually, I haven’t been to any, but that’s another story from before…well, everything.” 

Law snorts, but he doesn’t turn back to leaning his head on the guard bars, instead he stares at you with an expression close to contentment. “Good,” he says. 

Your faces stay a few inches from each other. There’s an eyelash resting on his cheek, just out of your reach and before you can think you gently cup your captain’s face and swipe the eyelash away. 

In an instant he’s solid. Smooth skin and bone rest just below your fingertips. And somehow, despite the sharp angles of Law’s face all you feel is softness and warmth against your skin. To your surprise he doesn’t move away. 

“I’m sorry, you just had an eyelash…” You go to pull your hand back and Law catches your wrist in a grip that’s nearly too tight.

His eyes flutter as he rests his face in your hand. “It feels so nice,” he says. He doesn’t stop you when you slide your fingers up his sideburns into the silky spikes of his hair. You remove his hat and place it beside him. 

Contact between you and Law has been minimal, even after you explained your devil fruit only works on inanimate objects. You think he’s been especially cautious around you not to touch you–even if by accident. Touch doesn’t come easy to you, unconsciously building a wall between yourself and others, with Law being the same that wall felt doubly thick. Only to come crashing down over drinks and an errant eyelash. Touching Law plugs a hole dug out of both want and curiosity that you’ve been ignoring.

Law leans into you as if being pulled down by magnetism until he’s almost on top of you. Your thumb settles behind his ear along the nape of his neck and rubs back and forth slowly. 

You look down at him, his eyes shut and lips barely parted. If it weren’t for the fingers working up the back of your shirt, you’d think he was asleep. Law’s hand stops at the small of your back, resting there like a warm patch. It feels so utterly right having the captain of the Heart Pirates in your arms, as if holding Law was one of the many things they were made for. 

Honesty takes over you. “I think I like being close to you, Law. It feels…warm…good,” you speak softly. If you could be like this all the time you wouldn’t complain. You receive a throaty rumble in response, not unlike a purring animal. “You must be drunk,” you chuckle.

“Extremely.” 

You’re not sure if you feel like you’re spinning from all the alcohol or because of this moment with Law. Eventually you begin to hum softly, and sleep begins to take hold of you. 

“Y/N-ya,” you hear Law say groggily. 

You hum a sound in response to show you’re still awake to listen to him. Law’s arms tighten around you and you understand instantly what he won’t let himself say. Against both your better judgment you drift off to sleep together on the balcony.  

The Next Morning…

Law awakens to dawn’s blinding sun and a pounding headache. His mouth feels cottony and his stomach roils in a way that doesn’t immediately threaten vomit but could. The second thing he takes in is that he’s outside; he never made it to his bed or any bed for that matter. And third, you. 

You’re still asleep, your chin nearly touching your chest and soft snore escaping you with every exhale. You don’t stir as he pulls himself away from you. The realization that he slept on you rocks through him. The sun’s barely risen and his heart’s already racing.

What did I do? 

He rubs at his eyes and scrubs a hand through his hair. Where’s my hat? He quickly finds it and pulls the brim down low enough to block the sun. 

Law takes off his jacket and covers you with it, only when he’s wrapped it around your shoulders do you grumble and smack your lips sleepily. “Don’t worry, Law. All’s good, had fun,” you mumble. 

He freezes. Out of everything he thought you would say, reassuring him didn’t cross his mind. 

Your eyes crack open just enough to look at his stunned face. “Yesterday’s already forgotten.” Loose limbed, you make a sealed lips gesture as if to say your secret's safe with me. 

Law stands and grabs his journal. He takes one more glance at you and feels butterflies flutter from his stomach up to his chest. That's the second time he's felt safe around you, he notes. It's information he chooses to ignore.

[shotmrmiller]

Maybe dessert first.

Pairings: Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x afab!reader

MDNI 18+

TW: explicit content, oral sex, MINOR religious depiction or talks of it and heavy scott slang that i couldnt tell you if its right or not. anything else yall know da deal please lmk anything i need to put on here.

Johnny on leave loves taking you out on dates, which is how you ended up stumbling through your apartment door right after a movie and a couple of drinks at a bar—his fingers hooked in the belt loops on your jeans to pull you towards him and you bring your arms up around, pressing your clothed chest against his.

Johnny places open-mouthed kisses on your jawline, trailing down to below your ear, and your fingernails lightly dig into his scalp as his attention erupts your flesh in goosebumps. Teeth biting down on your shoulder, his stubble rubbing your sensitive skin raw— your nerves feel exposed, you’re so hypersensitive. 

“Ye look positively bonnie t’night, lass.”

“I’m wearing what I usually wear, Johnny.”

“Aye, and you’re as beautiful as you’ve always been.”

Knees bending, Johnny picks you up by the back of your thighs— fingers digging into the meat of your hips— as if you weighed nothing. Your mouths come together, fervent and hot as he walks the both of you to the dinner table. You open your mouth to ask why he put you here when he hooks his thumb over the back of your bottom teeth, forcing your mouth to stay open. Your reaction to this is visceral. 

Johnny’s crystal eyes flick from your own down to the saliva drop at the tip of your tongue that drips onto his thumb. He lifts a corner of his mouth and snags his bottom lip with his teeth as he tips his head to the side, admiring his work.

“Yer a work of art, sweet girl.”

He finally leans in and drags his tongue up along yours, at the same time grinding his covered length against your center and you’re keening. 

“Anno the filthy way you love to be kissed, bonnie, I haven’t forgotten.” 

Stepping back a bit, he tucks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and knickers and you lift your hips to remove both articles of clothing in one go. As if he could read your mind Johnny says, “ Yer here because I’m about to eat and mi Mam always said proper folk eat dinner on the table.” 

This man is gonna be the death of you. A small death, if anything. You recline back to support your upper body on your arms behind you as you see Johnny kneel between your legs with a look of reverence as if your hips are an altar— and if Johnny had anything to say about it, you are his place of worship. 

“C’mere, lass. Dinnae keep a lad waitin’.”

You scoot closer to the edge of the table and his hot breath fanning out over your leaking pussy has you clenching around nothing almost desperate. Johnny presses light prickly kisses on your inner thighs and he works his way up to where you need him and yet he won’t give you attention where you need it most. Your thighs are trembling as he skims over your clit to love on your pussy lips and with every exhale his breath stimulates your nub and it’s so good but still not enough—

“Johnny, baby plea-”

And he finally, finally licks from the bottom of your slit to your clit, pointing his tongue to move it in circles before he goes back down to stick his tongue in and he curls it, collecting your slick like a parched man finding an oasis and he moans into your pussy before moving back and you can see him savor your nectar before he says, “My lass never has to beg me fer nothin.’ I’d lower the stars and have you walk with heaven at your feet if ye asked me.”

If his words didn’t almost have you about to bawl and ruin the erotic mood, you’d find his current actions crossing his adoring words almost lascivious. He brings you back to the moment with his hands underneath your ass, bringing you closer to him and his honeyed tongue. He encircles your clit with his lips, then flicks his tongue out, again and again. 

You’re digging your nails into the table as you get closer to the edge, biting your lip to keep from being too loud and Johnny is having none of it. Hand going up to your face, he uses his thumb to pull your bottom lip from in between your teeth and says,  “Absolutely not. Let the neighbors know who’s doing this to ya, bonnie.” and goes right back in. 

You're dripping onto the dinner table, orgasm building under his mouth, and you swear you hear Johnny moaning as loud as you— and you’re so close, it feels like a rubber band ready to snap— and as he slaps your ass to get your attention and make eye contact, he tucks the pointed tip of his tongue under your clit and closes his lips around it and sucks.

You chant Johnny’s name like a prayer as you come— head tipped forward, chin dropping down to your chest as you shake— and Johnny flattens his tongue on your clit to feel it pulse, like a heartbeat, and the extra stimulation of it lets you ride out your pleasure. 

Resting heavily on your arms, body completely boneless, you see Johnny pull back and his mouth and chin are dripping slick, and you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He puts his hands on your knees and grunts as he pulls himself up from the floor and of course, Johnny’s the type to be even harder after eating pussy for half an hour. His erection twitches in his pants and you have no doubt he’s painfully rock solid but his face is that of a cat who's got the cream. And you suppose he did get cream, didn't he? 

“Dinnae worry, lassie. I won’t fuck you here. I’d hate to break this table, knowing how much you like it.”

 ♡  ♡  ♡ 

[scratchandfriends]

Shut Me Up (+18)

This is my formal application to join the Holy Rolan Empire. Who do I need to talk to about this?

Pairing: Rolan x Female Tav (human sorceress in mind because that’s my tav lmao)

WC: 3000 oops

Summary: All you do is save the day and yap. It drives Rolan up a fucking wall. He absolutely cannot stand you… or so he is trying to convince himself. This would be so much easier for him if you weren’t so damn cute. 

Content Warnings: alcohol consumption, angry sex, face fucking, teasing, oral m receiving, unprotected sex (don't), creampies, making out, aggressive kissing, hair pulling, PRAISE KINK GOOD BOY ROLAN (because somebody needs to tell him), he just has a big fat crush on you.

— — 

First, it was killing the goblins attacking the grove. 

Then, it was defending Last Light from the cultists. 

Then, it was rescuing the gnomes and tieflings from Moonrise Towers. 

And on top of all that, you just had to save his sorry tail from the Shadow Curse. 

Jaheira had given the go-ahead to dip into the extra supplies for a bit of fun to increase morale and celebrate the safe return of the captives… and of course, much to Rolan’s dismay, you were the belle of the ball. Even his own damn siblings were fawning of you and your rowdy companions, but he let his annoyance lie since you did save their lives after all. 

He should be grateful, shouldn’t he? You brought his family back together and saved many more from death or a lifetime of grief. You kept Last Light safe from the Shadow Curse and were planning on defeating Ketheric and the Absolute yourself. Your heroics were not lost on him, and judging by your behavior here at the party, they were not lost on you either. 

Rolan sat at the bar nursing another bottle of wine alone as he watched you with a scowl. You had discarded your usual robes for a glittering, light-blue party dress, no doubt stolen, Rolan thought. You danced energetically with that massive, brutish tiefling woman, both of you spilling wine all over yourselves and the floor. Your long, blueish silver hair cascaded down past your shoulders and just kissed the exposed skin above your lower back, the milky skin shown by your backless dress peeking out at him as your hair moved when you danced. 

“Enjoying the show, brother?” Cal’s teasing voice comes from behind Rolan’s barstool. 

“We could be killed at any moment, hardly a time for anyone to be enjoying anything.” Rolan remarked as he straightened his back and his eyes were peeled away from you. 

“Always such a stick in the mud. Would it kill you to have fun for once?” Lia appeared on the opposite side of Rolan and rolled her eyes. 

“In this situation? Perhaps. Someone should be aware of their surroundings at a time like this.” Rolan quips. 

“Judging by how much of that bottle you’ve drained, I wouldn’t say you’re entirely aware.” Cal says. 

“I have to tolerate the company somehow.” Rolan snorts and takes another sip. 

“Well I’d practice your manners, your favorite little sorceress is coming this way now.” Lia says with a smirk. 

“Come on, we’re missing you all on the dance floor! I’ve tipped Alfira greatly, I think my favorite song is coming up soon!” You sidle up to the bar across from the tieflings and put your elbows on the bar top. “Missing even you, grumpy.” You flash Rolan a cheeky smile. 

“I’m perfectly content here. Drunkenly frolicking like an imbecile isn’t relevant to my interests.” The wizard snips at you with a frown. 

“Aaah, I see! Makes sense. So you won’t be needing this anymore, then.” You say as you snatch Rolan’s bottle of wine off the counter in front of him and take a heavy swig. 

“Give that back.” Rolan says with a slight snarl, baring pointed teeth. Rolan reaches an arm out across the bar to grasp towards his stolen bottle. 

“Oh, this? You want it back?” You say with a giggle before taking another sip from the neck of the bottle. You smile and take the opportunity to wedge the bottle down the front of your dress, lodging it tightly between your ample, exposed cleavage. “Why don’t you take it?” You ask with a devilish grin. 

“Go on, then!” Cal goads with a laugh, slapping his brother on the back. 

“Hmph. Keep it.” Rolan sits back on his barstool, feigning disinterest in your antics. “I’ll just have the kids bring me another.” 

You sigh and pull the bottle from your chest. You lean onto the bar, pushing your breasts together in the process. It doesn’t escape you how Rolan’s eyes are glued to your tits resting on the countertop. 

“You’re no fun.” You lean in close to him and whisper in a sultry tone. 

You take your stolen bottle of wine and return to your friends who were still reveling in Alfira’s lute playing. 

“What in the hells did you say to the cranky bastard?” Karlach asks while pulling your hand and spinning you around in a twirl. 

“What do you mean?” You inquire with a bit of a smirk. 

“The poor sod’s tail is twitching! No doubt something else is too. You flash him or something?” Your large friend questions. 

“Almost!” You laugh. “Just trying to see if I can get him to crack… he’s quite handsome!” 

“Try complimenting his horns, male tieflings really like that. They pride themselves on those things almost more than their cocks.” Karlach adds. 

“Hmm… good to know…” You say as the intrusive thought of Rolan’s cock enters your mind. You’d never laid with a tiefling before and you were desperately curious. Something about this wizard’s unfriendly, pompous nature intrigued you and you wanted to see what was underneath his prickly exterior. You always liked a challenge. 

— —

Another hour or so of partying goes by and you find yourself both sufficiently drunk and sufficiently bored. You sneak a glance at the bar and find Rolan standing behind it, rummaging through the shelves no doubt searching for more booze. You slink up next to him and try to peek into the cabinet he’s looking through. 

“Need help?” You pipe up. 

“Agh!” In surprise at your sudden appearance, Rolan knocks his head on the wooden cabinet door. 

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” You giggle and put your fingers to your lips. “Don’t want you hurting those horns of yours. They’re quite the handsome pair, you know. Best of anyone here-“ 

Rolan slams the cabinet door shut and turns to look down at your shorter figure. 

“What the hells is your problem?” Rolan seethes. “Every second of peace I have is somehow disturbed by YOU each time! You are positively infuriating!” 

“I’m just trying to be pleasant, Rolan.” You remark. 

“I am not interested in pleasantries. I’ve given you plenty of gold, I don’t know what other gratitude you want from me.” Rolan says, frustrated and annoyed. 

“Well…” You purr. “Just as you’re not interested in pleasantries, I’m not interested in gold.” You slowly move closer, your chests almost touching. You expected him to push you away, but surprisingly enough he stands in place. “Perhaps you can thank me in a different way…” You cock your head to the side flirtatiously and raise an eyebrow. 

You see Rolan’s Adam’s apple bob nervously. 

“Tav.. I.. ” He stutters. You cut him off. 

“If for whatever reason you find yourself unable to sleep tonight, I’ll be in room 104. Upstairs. Alone.. and my bed is always warm.” You wink before slinking off to the stairwell leading to the inn’s guest rooms. 

— — 

You had swapped your party dress for a short, white nightgown with lace trim and slits high up on either hip. You sat on the feather bed, brushing through your hair that had gotten tangled from the night of revelry. You had made sure to freshen up your perfume in the hopes that Rolan would take you up on your lewd offer of late night companionship. 

*knock knock*

You smirk at the gentle knock on your door. You waltz excitedly over to the door and open it. 

Sure enough, Rolan was standing in your doorframe. 

“I was hoping you’d-“

Your snarky comment was abruptly cut off by a clawed hand gripping the side of your head, tangling in your hair, while the other hand forcefully grabbing your waist to spin you around. The door slammed behind you and you were pushed against it roughly. 

Rolan pulls you by your scalp and smashes his lips on yours. 

There was no grace or eloquence in the kiss, much unlike his usual way of speaking. It was a gnashing of wet tongue and clacking of teeth as he ravaged your mouth, his grip on you never faltering. You froze at first, shocked by his boldness, but eventually you relent and open your lips further for him. You wrap your hands around his neck. 

Having had his fill from your lips, Rolan eventually moves his mouth to trail messy kisses and sharp nips from your jaw to your neck. 

“Wow, eager are-“

“Do you ever shut UP?” Rolan pulls back from your neck and growls, shoving his knee between your legs further, causing you to instinctively grind your bare sex onto his trousers. He brings his hand from your hair to grip your neck. 

“You’ll just have to shut me up, then.” You choke out with a smile, his clawed hand around your throat gently squeezing the sides. 

“It would seem so.” Rolan’s nostrils flare and he picks you up and tosses you on the bed with surprising strength for a wizard. 

You strip your nightgown over your head excitedly and lay back on the bed in as seductive of a pose as you could muster. Expecting to be either insulted or pounced upon, you sit up on your elbows in anticipation. Surprisingly, Rolan was standing at the foot of the bed, mouth agape, seemingly entranced by your nude figure laid before him. You take this opportunity to shift the tides in your favor. 

“What’s wrong, Rolan?” You say as you slowly spread your legs, exposing your swollen, dripping cunt to him. “Hellcat got your tongue?” 

This snapped him out of his daze. 

“Brat.” He scoffs before frantically shedding his own clothing. 

As he strips, you sit up on your knees on the bed so you can get a better look at your new lover. Geometric infernal ridges covered his chest and abdomen, almost guiding your eyes downward to his erect cock bobbing desperately in front of you. It was long and bright red, leaking tip more pointed than you were used to, but its most unusual feature were the prominent ridges decorating his shaft. You were dying to know how it felt in your hand… your mouth… your cunt… 

“Stop gawking, it’s not polite” Rolan says, less aggressive now than he previously was now that he was stark naked in front of you. Was he blushing? It was hard to tell. 

“How pretty you are… you have to let me play with it.” You purr as you lower yourself on your elbows, pushing your ass high in the air, wiggling it and successfully distracting Rolan from your advances towards his member. 

“Play? Is that how- shit!” Rolan gasps and curses as he feels you wrap your soft hand around his cock and stroke it slowly. 

You loll your tongue out of your mouth and place his hot tip on it, all while staring up at him lustfully. Rolan lets out a low growl and bucks his hips into your face, pushing his cock past your lips and into your eager mouth. You happily wrap your lips around his cock head and begin to slide up and down his ribbed length. His hand comes up to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guides you along his cock. Drool pools in your mouth and dribbles out the sides and you groan in approval of his roughness. 

“Ah ah, no talking with your mouth full.” He smirks playfully down at you. 

You try to reciprocate the smile, but can’t manage much do to your mouth being forcefully stuffed full of cock. Rolan must have noticed they way your thighs were tensed and rubbed together impatiently. 

“Touch yourself. Get yourself ready to take me.” He commands. 

You spread your knees and bring one of your hands down your front to play with your wet sex. Supporting yourself on one hand, you circle your clit in time with your sultry bobs on Rolan’s cock. You slide two fingers into your soaking hole and moan around his length. You continue to work yourself up, pushing and pulling on that special spot inside of you, whimpering and sharply inhaling as you slobber all over Rolan. 

“What a sight… Gods, such a messy girl…” 

You nod happily, not removing him from your mouth. You can’t help but notice as the rough grip on your hair becomes… softer. His thumb began rubbing against your head soothingly, as if to gently encourage you to suck him off instead of demanding it. 

“That’s enough, I'm going to have you now.” He says as he cups your chin and pulls you off him, a long string of saliva still connecting the two of you. You eagerly push yourself onto your back and spread your legs wide to make room for him. 

Rolan climbs over you and teases your clit with the tip of his cock. 

“Pretty little thing you are…” He says as his eyes rake over your body. 

“Be careful, wizard, that almost sounded like a compliment.” You chide and buck your hips up into him, wordlessly pleading for him to penetrate you. 

“I would tell you to hush…” He positions himself at your entrance. “But I think now I’d like to hear every little sound that comes from those sinful lips…” 

Rolan presses into you finally and you gasp at the ridged intrusion, unlike anyone else you’ve ever laid with. You arch your back and rake your hands down the infernal ridges on his abdomen. Once you feel his hips flush with yours, you look up and see the wizards eyes screwed shut in concentration, clearly trying not to let this moment end too soon. 

You grind your pelvis into his, beckoning him to start moving inside you. 

“Nine Hells… so fucking wet…” Rolan remarks with a sigh as he starts thrusting shallowly. He grips your breasts as leverage, teasing your nipples with his thumbs. You wrap your legs around his hips, encouraging him to fuck you deeper. 

“Gods Rolan, you feel so good…” You moan out to the ceiling. 

“Y-yeah?” Rolan asks as he picks up the pace and intensity of his thrusts. 

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so good!” You cry out in pleasure as you feel those gorgeous bumps along his shaft caress your walls so deliciously. 

“I-I’m good? Say it again..” He asks shyly. “Please tell me again…” 

Suddenly, you feel his tail wrap tightly around your leg, squeezing it possessively. It was like he was holding on for his life...

“You’re so fucking good Rolan. Your cock feels so perfect inside me. Fuck me harder, you’re going to make me cum…” You feel his cock inside you twitch and you could have sworn you heard him whimper. He obliges your request and pistons his hips into you harder. You feel the familiar warmth of your impending release tingle throughout your lower half. 

Rolan slinks an arm underneath your lower back, leaning over you further in the process and cards his other hand into your hair splayed out on the pillow beneath you. 

“I’m so close, please Rolan, you’re such a good boy. I want to cum on you. Fuck, there!” You moan and pant up at him as you bring your hand up to cradle his face in your palm. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the sight above you was too delectable to miss. 

“I-I am a good boy.. please cum for me…” Rolan pathetically whines and pleads to feel your release coat him. 

“Yes Rolan, my good boy… I’m- shit!” You cry out and feel your walls begin to convulse in anticipation of your climax. With the next thrust against your sweet spot, your dam breaks and you let out a vulgar moan as your orgasm overtakes your body. 

“Fuck, yes, your good boy!” Rolan pants and fucks you through your high. “I-I’m close.. where should-?” 

“Inside. Make me yours.” You say breathlessly, still delirious from your powerful climax.  

Rolan could no longer hold back, groaning loudly as he spills himself entirely deep inside of you. He grinds himself into you as he continues to cum, seemingly endless ropes of spend decorating your wet walls. 

Once finished, Rolan gingerly slips out of you and collapses tiredly onto the mattress beside you. 

You spent the next few minutes catching your collective breaths, nothing being exchanged but soft pets and tender touches as you calmed yourselves. You were stroking Rolan’s cheek with your thumb gently when he finally spoke. 

“Nothing to say now, then?” He smiles softly, teasing you. You return the grin.

“That was incredible.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Rolan.” 

“Wizards are full of surprises.” He jokes, pulling your body into his, rubbing circles into your hip. “There’s certainly more where that came from…” You notice his glowing eyes dart away from yours with uncertainty. “… If you’d have me.” 

You place a tender kiss on his lips. 

“The night is still young, isn’t it?” You nuzzle your nose against his. 

“I don’t just mean tonight.. come see me in Baldur’s Gate. I.. I can show you around, if you’d like?” He still can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes again. 

“You won’t be too busy with your apprenticeship?” You question. 

“I… I can try to make time.. if it’s for you.” He says sheepishly. 

You press your chest closer into his and tilt his chin up to meet your gaze. 

“What a good boy you are.” You smirk and pull him into a deep kiss. 

— — 

[cal-kestis]

HOW TO: Make an iPhone Layout + Downloadable Template

Hi! I've gotten a few messages asking for a tutorial on my iPhone gifsets — but instead of only doing a tutorial (that would probably be triple the length this one already is), I decided to turn my layout into a template with all the bits and bobs! In the "tutorial" under the cut, I'll share everything you'll need, a free template download, and quickly go over how to use this template. :)

Disclaimer: This template uses Video Timeline and this tutorial assumes you have a basic to intermediate understanding of Photoshop.

PHASE 1: THE ASSETS

1.1 – Download fonts. These are the fonts used for all assets I've included in my template: – SF Pro or SF Pro Display (Regular, Medium, Bold): Either version works, they look nearly identical. You can download directly from https://developer.apple.com/fonts/ or easily find it via Google – Bebas Neue: Free on Google Fonts, Adobe Fonts, and dafont – Times New Roman (Bold): Should be a default font in Photoshop

Make sure to download and install any of the fonts you don't already have before opening my template. That way, once you open the template file, all the settings (font size, weight, spacing, color, opacity, etc.) are as intended.

1.2 – Download my template. Before you use my template, all I ask is that you don't claim or redistribute it as your own and that you give me proper credit in the caption of your post. Making these iPhone gifsets takes me a longgg time and turning this layout into a template took several hours too.

DOWNLOAD TEMPLATE VIA KO-FI ← This template is completely free to download (just enter $0), but if you feel inclined to tip me, I appreciate you! 💖

BTW this template also includes some of my frequently used icons!

NOTE: If, for some reason, you open the template and see the pop-up shown below, click "NO" — otherwise, the fonts will be all messed up:

And if you see this triangle with an exclamation point by a text layer, don't double-click it — it'll mess up the font as well:

PHASE 2: THE GIFS

I'm just going to briefly go over gif sizes and my recommendations. Also, keep in mind when grabbing your scenes, you'll want all of these gifs to be the same amount of frames.

2.1 – Background Gif: 540 x 540 px. I recommend this size so you have a good amount of visibility for the gif behind the iPhone wallpaper. I also recommend making this black and white (or in my case, black and white with a slight blue tint — idk I just like the way it looks) so the wallpaper coloring can stand out.

2.2 – Wallpaper Gif: 230 (w) x 500 (h) px. Keep in mind the very narrow dimensions of the wallpaper! And also keep in mind that you'll have a bunch of apps and widgets covering the image. I try to use wide shots (or layer my clips into looking like wide shots). Also, keep in mind your color scheme for your set and your character's aesthetic! I tend to focus on one or two colors for the wallpaper.

I usually position the wallpaper to the side with 20px bumpers, so there's lots of space to see the background:

2.3 – Large Photo Widget Gif: 201 (w) x 96 (h) px.

2.4 – Small Photo Widget Gif: 94 x 94 px.

PHASE 3: THE TEMPLATE – "IPHONE" FOLDER

In this section, I'll try to quickly walk you through how to use this template and some bits that may require extra instructions. I'll be going through each folder from top to bottom.

3.1 – Status Bar. Time, Service, and WiFi are pretty self-explanatory. In the Battery folder, you can use the shape tool to adjust the shape layers labeled "Fill (Adjustable Shape!)" to customize the battery level.

3.2 – Message Notification. Again, these are pretty self-explanatory. I've already masked the circle for the contact photo, so you can simply import any photo and use the transform tool to shrink it down. The circle is 24x24 px. If you don't want to use a photo, there's another folder called Default Initials.

If your message text can't fit the text box, the message should end with ellipses which is how iOS caps off long texts.

3.3 – Blurred Banner (IMPORTANT) This folder is easy to miss because there's only one placeholder layer in there. On iPhones, the area behind a banner notification and the dock get blurred (including the wallpaper and any apps).

What to do: Make a duplicate of the apps in Row 1 and/or widgets that intersect the message banner, convert them all into one smart object, apply a Gaussian Blur filter (Radius: 3.0 pixels) on the smart object, and move the smart object into this masked folder!

(There's another masked folder in the Wallpaper folder for the dock which I'll go over in that section.)

3.4 – Apps Turn off the yellow guide if you don't need it to keep things aligned and turn off layers you don't need by clicking the eye icon. Replace the "App" placeholder text with your app name, change the color or gradient of the square to compliment your color scheme, and add your custom app icon overlay!

If you can't find an app icon you need from the ones I provided, flaticon.com is a great resource. Also, if you can only find the filled version of an icon, check out this tutorial for how to make any text or shape into an outline.

Also, each app folder has 4 notification bubble options (1-4 digits). Again, you can toggle these on and off as you need!

3.5 – Big Widgets I like using these when my wallpaper has A LOT of negative space to fill. I included the Photos and Books widgets in my template, but there are lots of widgets available on iPhones. You can check some of the other ones I've done here, or if you have an iPhone, simply try adding some widgets to your phone!

There are also widgets bigger than these, but they would take up half of the phone screen which is why I don't use them for these edits.

3.6 – Small Widgets The only thing I'll say about these — because they're pretty straight forward — is there are a lot more weather themes than I included in my template. Also, if you set your character's phone to evening, the weather widget will show a dark background (sometimes with stars), so keep that in mind.

Speaking of, I've included Light Modes and Dark Modes for, I think, every applicable widget.

3.7 – Page Dots These barely perceptible dots indicate that your character has more pages of apps than shown in your gifset (so if an anon tries to come at you, you can just say "it's on the next page of apps" /j /lh)

3.8 – Dock Again, the dock has notification bubble options and I've included the default app designs, custom filled designs, and custom outlined designs for iMessage, Phone, Email, and Safari (there's also a FaceTime alternative if that's how your character rolls). These are usually the apps people keep in their Dock, but this is fully customizable too. So, if your character is, like, super obsessed with Candy Crush or something and needs it in thumb's reach — you can put it in the dock.

3.9 – Wallpaper This whole folder is masked already to a 230x500 px rounded rectangle.

Inside, you'll find another "Blurred Portion" folder for the area behind the message banner notification and the dock.

What to do: Duplicate your gif layer and place it in this folder, remove any sharpening filters, and apply a Gaussian Blur filter (Radius: 3.0 px). Be sure to add any coloring/adjustment layers ABOVE this folder and your original sharpened gif layer.

PHASE 4: EXPORT

We made it!

I hope this template makes it super easy for you to recreate this layout! If you decide to try it out, feel free to tag me with #usernik.

If you notice anything wonky about the template, kindly let me know so I can fix it! And if you have any questions about how to use this template, please don't hesitate to send me a message! I just ask that you try to be specific in your question so I'm able to answer you the best I can!

[ryndicate]

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.”

[rapunzelbro]

Hi! Could you write an Angel Dust x Reader (Platonic) oneshot. Where the reader comforts him after his day with Valentino. And in return, he comforts them when their feeling sad

I find comfort in you…Angel x Reader

An: thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this. I accidentally made it longer haha. Enjoy it! Any feedback’s appreciated.

Masterlist Taglist

If you had a penny for every time you comforted Angel after meeting him, you'd have a room full of pennies, and then some. Angel was super protective of others seeing his true feelings, he didn't want to have to risk the people he cared about getting hurt by being his friend, he didn’t want Valentino to find out by any means. He kept his guard up a lot around you when you first met him. But after time of just talking, he finally slowly started opening up to you, which led to him finding comfort in you.

The first time he came to you, he was a crying mess, you instantly rushed out of your bed wrapping your arms around him, he instantly did the same back. You gently hummed trying to soothe him the best you could. You never seen him like that before. Ever. You guided him to your bed, not letting your hand leave his side, he didn't want to let go quite yet. “Angel… Angel please look at me” you softly spoke, wiping his tears. He looked at you still a mess of emotions “Please just, try to copy my breathing” you said before taking some emphasized breaths, trying to get him to calm down. Thankfully it ended up working, averting his eyes to look at the light blue blanket that rested on your bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you start looking at him with concern. Angel sighed, not saying anything for a while, leaving you two in a comfortable silence “It's my boss Val, he is a piece of shit you know?” he finally spoke looking at you, you just nodded letting him continue “He always has me as his little fuckin toy and I can't get out of it if I wanted to” Angel laid back on your bed,groaning as he focused on the ceiling now. “Y/n, do you ever wish you could go back to the past and prevent yourself from doing something stupid?” Angel glanced at you “Believe me Angel, I really wish I could, everyday I do” you muttered laying back too, looking at the ceiling with him, gently squeezing one of his hands “But then we’d never be friends you know?” you smile, earning a chuckle from Angel “You make a good point.. Thank you..” You let out a hum in response just laying there as Angel scrolled on his phone.

This became a common occurrence for you two. He always came to you when he was upset, he felt like he could trust you and you were more than willing to be there for him. While he was open with you, you didn't often show your feelings to him. He had enough issues as it was, you didn't want to add yours to the list, which leads back to when he first comforted you.

Angel arrived back at the hotel late. Putting it simply, he looked like shit, but you’d never say that. Sitting at the bar. You held your head up with one arm that rested on the table of the bar, while the other hand swirled the ice cube that remained in your drink using the tip of your nail. You could hear him walking in, but you didn’t look at him just watching the icecube. “Did he hurt you again?” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear, you sounded tired.

Angel walked over to you, obviously put off by how blunt of a statement you made “Straight to the point toots?” he sighed before going around the bar and grabbing a whole bottle of vodka, sitting next to you. “Yes, but nothing I couldn’t handle, ya know? Hey wait, are you okay?” Angel paused trying to look at your face, noticing you haven’t looked at him since he walked in. “Angel don't worry I’m fine” you looked up from the glass, removing your nail from the glass, drying it with your shirt. “Cut the shit Y/n, what happened?” Angel looked concerned, noticing your usual makeup was smeared, like you were crying.

You stood up wanting to walk away from this conversation but Angel grabbed your hand before you could leave “Oh no you dont, you deal with my shit, I deal with yours too. What happened?” His voice was full of concern as he felt your hand start shaking, that's when he pulled you into a hug, you not returning it for a while, until you started to sob holding onto him like you'd lose him if you didn’t. He picked you up with one of his many hands, taking you both back to his room, before putting you on his bed, grabbing a box of tissues for you.

He’d never seen you like this, you never seemed upset around him, or anyone in the hotel. I'm sure the only other person who would've gotten any light clue of the feelings you hid would be Husk, being the way he is. Angel comforted you the best he could, he honestly didn’t know how to be of much help except by keeping too close to him, waiting until you were ready to speak. “I just, I feel so lonely okay?” you finally spoke hiccuping as you tried controlling your sobs

“I know that.. Everyone at this hotel cares in their own way, and I know you do, but I cant help but feel like everything I had while I was alive is just, all I ever had'' you stared down at your shaking hands, Angel taking one of your hands just listening to you “I don’t regret anything I’ve done, but what if what I did was all for nothing?” you muttered looking at Angel “I feel like that too darlin.. All you really can do is focus on the future.” He started “Look I’m.. not the best when it comes to comforting someone, but if anyone has changed things around here for the better it’s you” he smiled slightly at you. “And so what if you didn’t do enough while you were alive? You have another shot here, and that’s enough ya know?” Looking at Angel you gave a faint smile looking at your friend “I think you’re doing great Y/n” he finished before you gave him a hug, which he returned

Angel would check on you often after this, and you would continue to check on him. Sure you both ended up in hell, but you're glad you were in hell with him. And he was glad you ended up with him too.

Angel dust Taglist @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness @fizziepopangel @saitisfied @the--rebel--fae @mcueveryday @rainbowbunny15 @molaroo @bonkbonkbobk