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cutielando · 2 months

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Charles reminds you that you are his 👀

you're mine | c.l.

warnings!!: 18+, SMUT, p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm denial, edging, dom!Charles, sub!reader, overstimulation, dirty talk, degradation (only slightly), teasing

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You hadn't realized you had done anything wrong.

The two of you had been partying at an exclusive club in Monaco. celebrating his home win. You had been dancing the night away, drinking cocktails on the side.

But Charles had a whole other take on what you were doing that night.

You were a little tipsy after your second cocktail and were taking your sweet little time talking to the bartender when ordering another one.

Leaning against the counter, your cleavage practically spilling out of your dress, your dress hiking up your thighs and threatening to flash anyone who looked closely enough.

He couldn’t deal with that. You were his and only his, nobody else was supposed to even look at what was his.

Which is precisely why he decided to cut the night short, saying goodbye to your friends and dragging you out of the club at merely 2 in the morning.

“Why are we leaving? I was having fun” you pouted as you let Charles drag you towards his parked car, his grip on you tight.

“Yeah, I saw how much fun you were having with that bartender” he grumbled under his breath, making your eyebrows furrow.

Your brain couldn't process anything he was saying, too fuzzy because of the cocktails you had drunk. What bartender? What fun?

"Did I do something wrong?" you asked as you got to the car, not getting in while Charles held the door open for you.

He looked at you, your eyes wide and innocent, your lips jutted and nearly wobbling.

Charles could feel his anger and jealousy slowly dissipate from his body when he looked at you, but he was determined to make you forget about anyone else as soon as he got you home.

"Just get in the car, amour. You did nothing wrong" he said as he hurriedly pushed you into the passenger seat and fastened your seatbelt.

You were far too tired to think more of it, satisfied with his answer as you settled into the seat, taking off your shoes with a sigh.

Charles was pent up as he got into the driver's seat and started the car up, your teasing from the entire night letting itself known through the massive boner he had. He had so many things to say about the way you acted that night, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

He would only show you what he truly meant the moment he got you home.

You were in your own little world the entire car ride, your head resting against the side of the door as the fresh air from outside helped you sober up gradually. Your head was more clear now than it had been the entire night, and bits and pieces of the night started coming back to you, making you realize why Charles was mad.

The silence continued all the way to his apartment, the tension between the two of you brewing with each step you took.

Charles had stepped into the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, starting to unbutton his shirt while you stood behind him and watched, biting your lips once he got his shirt off and you could see his back muscles tense with his every move.

“I’m sorry for being a brat tonight” you whisper in his ear as you step close to him, your arms wrapping around his body and running up and down on his chest.

Charles’ breath hitched, the feeling of your manicured and delicate hands rubbing smooth motions on his already hot skin driving him crazy.

He turned around, making your arms fall to your sides as you stared up at him with wide and expecting eyes.

“It seems like I have to remind you who you belong to, ma chérie” he said, tracing a finger under your jaw.

You couldn’t utter out a single word under his intense gaze, so you did the next best thing. You nodded and bit your lip, which sent a wave of goosebumps on Charles’s skin.

“Strip” was the next thing he said, taking a step back and retracting his hand from your face.

You gulped, his voice commanding and firm. You silently began removing the straps of your dress, letting it fall to your feet before you stepped out of your heels.

He admired as you stood before him, bare except for a black lace thong barely covering your bare and dripping pussy.

“Get on the bed” he followed up, watching you walk towards the bed and kneel in the middle of it, your lip between your teeth and your hands running up and down your thighs.

Charles sucked in a breath as he started unzipping his pants, his boxers now uncomfortably straining against his ever-growing boner.

“Are you going to punish me, daddy?” you asked sweetly, your voice innocent and your eyes hungrily eyeing the outline of your boyfriend’s cock.

He didn’t answer, instead walking closer and kneeling before the bed. He took a hold of your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, now face-to-face with the soaked fabric of your panties.

"You're so wet" Charles whispered against your soaking core, his minty breath making your cunt clench around nothing.

"Do something, Charles" you whined, getting frustrated with his slow pace. Couldn't he see you needed him to fuck you?

And still, Charles took his sweet time with you. He slowly started peppering kisses on the inside of your thighs, biting your flesh occasionally as he slowly, but surely made his way to where you needed him the most.

He pulled your panties off slowly with his teeth, grazing your hot skin and finally freeing you.

"You're not allowed to touch me. If you touch me, I will stop, understood?" he spoke, settling between your legs and hiking your legs over his shoulders.

You furrowed your eyebrows and went to argue, but seeing the look in his eyes made you only nod, biting your lip in anticipation.

Satisfied with your nod, he immediately dived in, not wasting a single second before burying his tongue deep into your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit repeatedly.

You couldn't remember ever being eaten out with so much drive, your body not even knowing how to react to the sensations you were feeling.

"Oh my God" you gasped out as Charles sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue lapping at your soaping center.

You were fighting the incredibly strong urge to wrap your hands in his hair and tug, bury him even deeper into your pussy for your own pleasure. But you knew he would stop, you knew he would let you suffer with the ache between your legs with no mercy, so you instead fisted the sheets in your hands, panting as your legs started trembling and the coil inside of your stomach started building up.

"You're gonna make me cum" you whimpered, biting your lip as you felt Charles insert two fingers inside of you, your walls clamping down hard at the feeling.

He hummed against your core, the vibrations making you squeal and your toes curl. He was relentless, pistoling his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace as he continued to suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling the way your walls were clamping down on his fingers.

And then, just as you were about to scream out in ecstasy, your mouth agape and your eyes rolling in the back of your head from the intense pleasure you were receiving, everything stopped.

"What the fuck" you all but screamed, watching Charles wipe his chin and stand up like it was nothing.

"Bad girls don't get to cum when they want to, do they?" he asked nonchalantly, pushing you upwards on the bed so he could kneel between your legs once again.

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the bed. You had been so close to that feeling of pure ecstasy, to that sweet release you had been craving all night, and he denied you that. You wanted to cry from the frustration alone, but you knew it would do you no good.

Stealing a glance at Charles, your eyes naturally gravitated to his cock, his tip an angry red while leaking precum all over the sheets. You bit your lip and went to wrap your hands around it, give your boyfriend's delicious cock some sort of release, but he slapped your hand away before you could touch it.

"I said no touching" he warned, making you pout and settle back down.

"I need you to fuck me with your cock" you mewled out, running your hands over your breasts, hard nipples brushing against your skin.

Charles ignored you, spreading your legs wide open to inspect your pussy. Your clit was furiously aching, your cunt clenching around nothing in anticipation.

"This pussy is all mine" he growled, slapping it bare, making you yelp and shudder. "Say it. This pussy belongs to me, nobody can fuck this pussy as good as I can, was made just for me"

"This pussy is all yours, daddy. This pussy only needs your cock, please fuck my pussy, daddy" you were practically begging him to fuck you at this point, but you didn't care.

You needed his cock, and you didn't care what you had to do to get it.

Charles wanted to tease you for a little bit longer, but he couldn't resist the ache of his rock hard cock anymore. He took his cock in his hand, giving it a few pumps before lining it up with your soaping entrance, teasing you by only putting the tip in.

You squirmed as you felt his tip inside, eager to get his entire cock inside of you. You rocked your hips back and forth, hoping to create some friction and finally get his length inside of your desperate walls.

"Please fuck me, daddy. I can't take it anymore" you whimpered, your nose scrunched up and your eyes closed.

Charles smiled to himself, satisfied enough with your pleads. He took a hold of your hips and kept you in place as he slowly sheathed his entire length inside of you, closing his eyes at the feeling and hissing while you arched your back and moaned loudly.

"You're so tight for me" he groans, opening his eyes to take in the imagine of you.

Sprawled out on his bed, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes closer, your hand toying with your nipples, ready to be ravaged by him. Just how he liked you.

"Please fuck me" you whined, opening your eyes to look at him, all in his glory with his hard cock deep inside of you, his abs glistening in the dim light.

Charles didn't say anything, but he slowly started moving in and out of you, helping maneuver your legs so your knees were to your chest. His touch sent fire through your body, the feeling of his cock stretching out your pussy and reaching depths you never thought possible, everything made you see stars and your brain to go numb.

The room was filled with moans and groans and the slapping of skin on skin, the brutal pace Charles was now fucking you at leaving you breathless and without words. He was so deep inside of you, hitting your G-spot every single time his long and girthy cock pounded into you.

"You're doing such a good job for me, my little slut" Charles cooed at you, feeling your walls flutter around him and hearing your delicious moans intensify. "You liked being called my little slut, don't you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to talk, the words long gone as now your noises were reduced to moans, whimpers and squeals when Charles would hit that spot inside of you at just the right angle. You only managed to nod, fisting the sheets between your hands in order to ground yourself.

The bed shook with the intensity Charles was fucking you with, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust. Your breasts were bouncing up and down, prompting your boyfriend to grope them in his hands and leave hickeys all over the skin of them.

As you laid there, letting Charles fuck you dumb, you could feel the coil inside of you building again, this time more rapidly than the first.

"I'm gonna cum" you warned Charles, your legs starting to shake as you arched your back off the bed.

"Come on, amour. Cum for me, cum all over this cock, make a mess" Charles spurred you on, his hand dropping to your clit, where his rough thumb started rubbing quick circles.

"I'm cumming!" you squealed, the burning coil inside of you finally snapping and overflowing your entire body with adrenaline.

Your walls were fluttering wildly around his cock, making him groan as he struggled to push inside of you and fuck you through your orgasm. Your legs were shaking around his waist, your eyes rolled in the back of your head as the nerves in your body reveled in the post-orgasmic bliss.

Charles sped up his thrusts, holding tightly onto your hips as he watched your breasts jump up and down with the force of his thrusts. He could feel his balls tingling, his cock growing even longer and harder inside of you as he neared his release.

"I'm gonna cum so deep inside of you, remind you who you belong to and who owns this fucking pussy" he growled in your ear as he hovered over your body, thrusting fast and hard 3 more times before he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, his muscles tensing up as he shot rope after rope of cum deep inside of your cervix.

You both moaned into each other's ears, the feeling of his cum inside of you triggering another smaller orgasm, your spasming walls milking him dry for all he was worth.

The two of you laid there for a while, with him on top of you kissing every part of your body he could reach, his softening cock still inside of you.

"You know I love you and only you, right?" you asked, finally snapping out of the fucked-out brain you had had ever since you walked into the apartment.

Charles lifted his head from where he was kissing the underside of your boobs, smiling at you.

"I know. I love you too, mon amour"

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zzencat · 3 months

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Your Person When They Realize They Want More With You (+ character traits) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. Choose the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Applicable to a current or future person. This is someone that wants to be someone more to you. Warnings: tooth-rottingly sweet. Some suggestiveness. Some angst.

BEFORE YOU CHOOSE. Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

———————————

Pile 1. “If we’re both still single by 30, let’s get married.” “Deal.”

•you could be coworkers OR someone who goes in the same direction as you in the morning

• one day, a thought will cross their mind when they’re ordering your favorite so-and-so, maybe coffee, maybe favorite pastry, OR they randomly keep remember weird details about you(?) like “oh y/n likes this…”—cuz they’ll be like “wait…why do I know that? lol why did I just randomly rmr that…” they’ll laugh it off,,,,and then they see you again later and their heart beats a different way…

• they honestly did not see you like this before…

• ear muffs and black sweaters…puffy jackets…perhaps it’s cold/snowing when it hits them how radiant you look

•honestly a very sweet fs. if you’re okay with vanilla people, this is def for you. if not, let’s spice it upppp (you gotta do it)

• it’s weird bc it hits them gradually too. like thinking “why are you still single…why am i still single?”

• you guys have a mature vibe. ^^(relating to previous point) a lot of this pile’s fs will realize their feelings too late or will realize when you’re both financially stable

• maybe you give the vibe you’re not interested in them or you don’t have the intention of getting married—at some point you may have mentioned this to them, sober or drunk, and they rmr it so their being cautious and gauging how you could feel about them, if you feel anything for them at all

• childhood friend kind of energy. I really don’t think you see them in this way either, not until they start acting weird around you. All of sudden, they’re not smiling as much anymore and maybe they’re averting their gaze more

• it sucks bc you’ll question why and will feel weirded out when they start avoiding you, turning down your requests to hang out…

• I’m getting a very empty feel. Either you feel empty without them or they’ve been on dates with other people in the past (you’re wondering how tf they still haven’t settled) and it’s bc they’re not feeling that “unidentifiable”…spark. Like the one they should be feeling on dates with new people, but no…it’s just…dry. They don’t know what it is tho. All of these people are attractive and share the same interests, yet there’s just something missing…

• if you give this a try, you will fall very fuckin hard

• ^^ having thoughts like “how tf do they know how to cook? were they always this hot?” lawd…noticing the small things about them and it’ll get you blushin

• honestly…there’s gonna be a huge difference in communication. you’ll probably be a bit pissed- like “why are you acting so weird? have you been avoiding me?”

• they’d give you all these excuses of why they can’t hang out, and that’s bc they wanna be a lone with their feelings. They’ll try to suppress it at first because there’s just no sign that you like them back, no indication of you even feeling anything romantic towards them, and it kills them…

• I honestly see this person suffering alone from it. They’ve got all this worry and bad energy and it’s not even your fault, so the energy is just going inwards. They can’t express it- they don’t even want to verbally acknowledge it bc they’re THAT sensitive to the fact that they like you and the potential of you not liking them back. It’s really just their own mind and doubts being the bad guy

• why is this happening in a car? 😳 you might have to conjure up a little ruse to get them in one place bc they are definitely avoiding you

• I’m really getting the feeling that you were oblivious. Like it had NOT occurred to you once that they could’ve had feelings for you. The most you would’ve thought of your relationship with them is a friendship

• ^^ bc ngl a prominent portion of this group think the fs is too good for them, like out of their league—both in physical and status

• they could be tall and wear glasses, or fit and good facial bone structure

• if you mention another person (that you could possibly interested in) they’ll purse their lips and play up that they’re happy for you (but trust me, it’s fake as hell and you’ll see it). Like they won’t even be able to hold a real smile bc they’re already hurt by the possibilities. OR they just go quiet and say “oh, really?” *looks down, hands in pockets* if you’re both standing up. If you’re one of the oblivious bunch, you’ll notice their tone change but you won’t understand what’s wrong. (there’s also a split amount of you that would ask what’s wrong and others that won’t)

• BUUUT there’s also a handful of fs in this pile that will look down at their feet, hands in pockets, maybe even wearing a beanie, and will avoid your eyes while passive aggressive shooting down the other person. For example, if you compliment this other person, they’ll quietly be like “well, they’re not THAT good…”

• if you’re not giving any signs STILL? then this person will try to suppress their feelings even more and will start going on dates again. this person isn’t the most optimistic when it comes to this—which I can’t blame them for bc I think you treat them TOO much like a friend or family and joke around too casually with them that they think it’s permanently stuck like that—EVEN THO you haven’t even rejected them. there’s also a chance you’d never even friendzoned them. Perhaps when you two were younger, you were like “ewww 🤮🤮🤮” to the prospect, but now that things are different, you’re not totally opposed to it…maybe it’s crossed your mind once or twice, but you didn’t think much of it really…

•hella puppy vibes from this person tho. either they look the part or act it

•I feel kind of sad for your fs only bc some of you could friendzone them or at least have given off that vibe to them. you would go out to events with this person, even 1-on-1 and not even think of it romantically while your person is feeling this one-sided love

• it’s up to you guys if you want to date this person or not, but if you do, they will literally do EVERYTHING for you- esp the planning

• very strong cold weather, scarves, hot drinks, cold region

•this person tries to invite you out often

• i will also mention, this pile is more likely to date this person than pile 3 is to date theirs

• if you do end up dating, in the beginning stage of this relationship, they’re just shy as hellllll and you’re like “what? 😃” when you catch them staring at you — in the beginning stage, they’re prone to laughing/giggling a lot when yall make eye contact and looking away so you don’t see how flustered they are

• you could be an extrovert OR if not, you just really enjoy being around this person. their personality and presence balances out yours

• you might be unsure of what you want in a romantic partner, open to different cultures/people, kind of in your own world(?) —> like not fixated on one thing or it’s easy for you to get caught up with multiple projects/easily distracted and this person keeps track of you/keeps you grounded

• if you figure out that they have feelings for you, you’ll start to feel bad for not seeing it earlier, you’ll start to hella ruminate about it and the more you think abt them, the cuter and more appealing they seem to you

Points of Interest: infj? overthinker for sure, introvert but still good with people, the color gold, “we’re just hanging out,” going to dinner often, getting mistaken for a couple, 7:43 pm, *shrugs* “idk maybe” (from your side), unwarranted sass (from both sides), no hookups—this person wants a genuine relationship with you, “you have shit taste in love interests”(lmfao???), car fights, “wifey” *takes Snapchat selfie while sitting in the passenger seat with the more feminine energy driving*(…nah listen, if the more masc energy be saying this? dude is immediately submissive), curly hair or FLUFFY hair, lots of thick hair, you make this person feel like a kid…like you bring them back to when they didn’t have to worry about jobs and taxes, financial stability, maturity, miscommunication, amusement park dates, trench coats, “I’m feeling kind sick. Sorry 😞”, excuses, excuses, excuses, “why haven’t you been answering my texts?”, catching them try to shamelessly avoid you at the parking at their workplace, going to movies with this person and them treating it like a date (even when you don’t see it that way), when will they make an actual move??

——————

Pile 2. “What are you looking at?”

• yooo have you been to this person’s house before? 😳👀

•idk if you realize this pile 2, but if it was just the two of you, alone, with some dimmed down lights and faint jazz in the background? it could get down and dirty real quick. but only if you’re not sober and not a stubborn person. otherwise, this person isn’t who you’d initially think of as spouse-material

• I’m pretty sure this person has thought abt it before. 200% sure. Not sure if you’ve caught this, but they check you out a lot. They’ve had their eyes on you for a while…

• idk if they’re a huge flirt or just really gives off sensual vibes, but this person is hot…damn

• something about their eyes. They always look so sensual? Or they look really seductive? They’ve got *those* eyes ykwim? They’re also very laidback so that adds to their sexiness

• I think I lot of people wanna sleep with this person, so you’re in an unsaid “competition” — or at least the people around you see it as such. you might get a few dirty looks or sneaky glances your way from jealous people and it’s honestly tiring. you won’t care but it’s just an extra bug on your shoulder

• an issue tho is that you could find this person untrustworthy or not ready for commitment. they’re just hot AND THEY KNOW IT, so if someone asks them for a piece, they’ll easily give themselves — BUT what you don’t know is that a lot of the fs, NOT ALL, in this pile are very picky with who they want

• if you’re smart, this person could tease you for it. only bc they find it super sexy tho. You’re not exactly friends, just acquaintances/partners in business? People who know of each other because of mutual things or people. They know you secretly want them tho even if you try to keep composure

• I’m sure a lot of this pile thinks this person is conceited as hell or you could even cringe at how they are, and you wouldn’t admit in front of them (not even to yourself) that you do find them attractive

• if you’re stubborn, possess a lot of self control, or perhaps hold yourself and others to a standard, maybe it’s just hard for people to get into your pants in general—but this person will like that. they think you have substance to you and you’re not like the rest

• This person likely has a bunch of yes-men around them. It’s a pretty privilege thing

• pretty mysterious and even prettier eyes

• smth about those eyes man… you’d blow up if you look too long or steam might start coming outta your ears

• a lotttt smarter than they play out to be

• if you’ve never been with this person sexually, they’d be so down. if you’ve hooked up once, they’d hit you up again

• even tho this person seems noncommittal, once they commit, they REALLY do

• this person might be wealthy or has grown up in an affluent space

• OR they’ve grown up playing sports

•I don’t think they view people as “pawns” necessarily. I think you perceive them as super popular but in reality, they only consider a handful of friends, real friends. this person isn’t dumb and they know who kisses their ass

•your deviance will intrigue them. not conforming to what they want and what the people around them are like. you do what you want and they like that. they like that you also don’t settle for less.

•but I have to say, these people don’t chase. If you end up with this person, it’s bc you grew the balls to ask them out and they, impressed, agreed to it. Outside, they LOOK the same- like carry the same expression on dates, but inside, they know there’s something more to you

• it’s most likely an ego thing. They don’t do the asking out if you’re someone minding your own business

• both of you guys have an ego thing tho. This person beats you by a smidge but you think they get too much credit for just…existing.

• they’re thinking how people usually try to get with them, but bc you haven’t yet, that kind of…tugs their attention a bit. (Their spirit doesn’t want me to make it obvious that they’re lowkey affected by it lmfaoo). It’ll hang in the back of their mind, yes, but it’s not something they think about randomly in the middle of the day

• this person has found or will find success early in life…in their 20s or even before. Some of it may be due to their looks getting them the opportunities, but they haven’t done modeling. At least, not for the sake of modeling. I don’t think it’s an interest of theirs. Heavy on business person tho or someone pursuing a profession in business/finance/economics

• this person’s jaw is nicely shaped. they don’t have too much fat around their jaw

• weirdly, they can be smart for their age. I think they feel a bit of pressure from being praised for so long for looking so good that they have to perform at that same level

• there will be chances for you to actually speak to them regularly, but they will seldom make the first move. they want you to pursue so it doesn’t hurt their ego. if they can’t take it anymore, they’ll approach you (preferably at an event or somewhere where youre kind of…disillusioned? stood up, standing alone somewhere feeling insecure abt something…not in the right state of mind/unbalanced mind

•i’m not getting too many extroverts here. high chance a lot of you are introverted and would rather not be at this event. you either pushed yourself to be here or you HAD to be here. the people at this kind of event are not for you…you don’t like a lot of them and some of them feel the same towards you. you don’t care too much tho (maybe a little but not to the point where it hurts your self esteem)

Points of Interest: suits, symmetrical face, blessed features, POSSIBLY MIXED RACE, hazel colored hair, brown or tan skin, hair that compliments skin color, eyes with soul, kinky as hell, realllly good looking, switch in bed, there’s a lot of emphasis on this person’s looks, “don’t try to fight it,” 50 shades of grey (😂?!?), “if you want me, just say so”, any slow Chris Brown song, some fs here has stubble, laidback, single hand in pocket, isn’t scared to make eye contact with you, will leave a conversation with their friend midway to talk to a potential lover/partner in bed interest, zayn malik is not leaving my brain, very slow and sensual vibe, the color black or darker shades, tons of eye fucking (from them to you), intense gaze and especially intense eyes (the staring into your soul type, full of desire and curiosity type), black clothing, mysteriousness, unable to look away, intj vibes

———————

Pile 3. Best friends forever.

• This one feels more sad than the other piles bc it’s just straight up unrequited love (from you). they’ve got the fattest crush going on but you may not feel the same way.

• ^^ damn yeah…i’m getting a mixed bag for this. some of you are open towards it but the other half of you are really not interested

• This person has to have started out as a friend first and then started making subtle, almost too subtle and friendly, gestures that they’re interested in you

• similar to pile 1, you won’t be able to tell that they like you. UNLESS, they get super (very obviously) shy when asking you to go somewhere with them, like a movie or something — and you’ll be able to tell with the stuttering and head scratching and fidgeting, might struggle to make eye contact but will try

• ^^^ The biggest distinction between this pile and pile 1 is that this person is a full on FRIEND. pile 1 is more of friends that fell apart and are reconnecting, while not considered to be a part of your friend group or close friends. in pile 3, there’s an obvious disconnect, like some kind of veil between you two, and it’s really bc they only see you, but to you, this person is a ghost. someone that you really only feel platonic towards.

• they could be soft spoken or has a very… “non-aggressive” voice when speaking to you specifically

• tries to send you funny stuff or make conversation on text — 50/50 answering you right away bc they don’t wanna seem desperate/obvious, but they’ll remember to respond in the same day

• i think they hold back a lot tbh. like they have to sling back to composure whenever you’re around

• stares at you a lot in a group setting

• this person is sooooo similar to pile 1, but more…masochistic? lmfao I mean as in…wanting to be around you even when they know that they don’t have a chance or even after you’d straight up rejected them

• to be honest, there’s a chance you don’t like them that way because of their looks? the personality is perfectly fine but they’re not the type of person you’d go for if you’re looking for someone super attractive (this might be a bit harsh, but maybe a big part of why you’re comfy around them is bc they’re not someone that has model type looks? like it makes you less nervous around them than you would be around someone crazy good looking)

• stalks your social media a lot, doesn’t look at other people. you literally occupy their mind around the clock

• some people here might date this person, only for a little time tho bc there could be someone else you’re interested in, so you end up breaking up. for everyone else, you’re just really unlikely to date this person bc they’re too far from what you consider a romantic partner

• in a monogamous relationship, these are the type of people that would forgive you and welcome you back into their lives if you cheated on them

• an extremely SMALL portion of you, and i mean very small, will actually see this person for who they are and will decide to stay with them. idk if this is out of pity, “oh it’s bc I feel bad for them 🥹”, or possible regret- like “if I don’t date this person, I might regret it”—looking at it like a missed opportunity?? if you genuinely like them and grow fond of them, it will come later and like I said, an extremely small amount of you (~99.9% nonexistent)

• in rejection, this person takes YEARS to get over it. even if they try dating someone else, they’ll think about you and will show care towards you — some will try to be less obvious like “it’s fine i’m over it 🙂‍↔��” but nah, you can feel it. at some point, you could feel annoyed about this

• there’s a small chance that they believe you’ll give them a chance after rejection so they won’t date easily—unless you end up dating someone else and they know abt it, then they’ll do the previous bullet point

Points Of Interest: emotionally masochistic bc they keep wanting to be around you even when they’re hurt (if rejected, this person NEEDS to take some months away from you. idk if they’ll do that right away or not), “nothing else to say”, “that’s okay, I can wait”, awkward, unrequited love, unbreakable loyalty, “aww you’re so sweet”, this person is super rebound energy, gets their heart broken and welcomes the heartbreaker in again, snapback, acne, crooked smile, possible mbti involved (you or them): enfj, enfp, infp, isfj, esfj

———————

Teddy Note: Enjoy this one guys!! As always, thank you for reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t :)

Teddy outtt 😎😎😎

#tarot blog #tarot reading #daily tarot #relationship pac #love pac #divination #pac tarot #tarotblr #intuition #pick a pile #pick a card #love reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #tarot masterlist #tarotcommunity #pac reading

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grugruel · 10 months

Text

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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navillee · 1 month

Note

hiii i've been an avid fan of your tumblr hehe and i've been meaning to request you this >< so we know that zayne is a teetotaler but BUT do you perhaps have any ideas/headcanons on how he would act if he's drunk? bet he can get drunk with just a sip of an alcohol and be a clingy mess towards mc 🤤

Oh, sweetie, it will be a pleasure to tell you Zayne has different dimensions depending on the levels of alcohol on his blood. The facade of his demure behavior would start presenting fissures, escalating to a total decay.

❆ Level 1 tipsy Zayne ࿐

• As a person who's not into any sort of vice — despite being ready to fight a god just so he can get laid by his woman every life possible, that doesn't count — Zayne only drink alcohol at social gatherings, more specifically, when someone makes a toast or when his colleagues bother to insist;

Zayne doesn't drink for two reasons: he thinks alcohol is very much overrated — sugar taste better 100% of the time, it doesn't need to keep forcing ingestion to start feeling palatable — and second of all, he's terrified of not being able to control his own mind;

But surprisingly, when he participates in a toast or just gives a little sip on some drink, he doesn't lose composure at first. Rather than that, he feels even more shy. He's trying too hard not to sink into the suave fluttering sensation that small sip of champagne/wine gave him;

He feels like he's committing a sin. How dare him? Making himself so vulnerable to his own profane thoughts, lingering into his brain like a sweet, sweet poison, making his eyes remain seconds more on your frame at the other side of the room;

He's a sinner. His pure as the driven snow facade falling abruptly from grace when he realized he's already unable to control his body temperature. That evil poison flows through his blood, making he feel so hot. It's like the room is gradually turning into a representation of hell, where sinners like him belong to;

The things gotten even worse when you approached him again, randomly giving him praises such as "pretty" or "handsome" just because he's wearing a suit you picked out for him. Oh, that heat comes up from his torso to his ears and cheeks. He's not the confident demure Zayne anymore. That's why he can't look into your eyes like the sober version of himself. He's just a corrupted shadow from a twisted world where everything is just in flames, and he's not able to control his own body temperature nor face you;

Make sure to make him look into your eyes, watch that needy glimmer on his eyes while his cheeks and neck turn into a pretty shade of red. He'll try to avoid you, but again, the warm feeling is so good that he knows that he physically needs to let the control go at some point;

He wants to let go. But would you accept him as your devoted? When all he is, is nothing but a dirty sinner?

❆ Level 2 tipsy Zayne ࿐

That's a level further, that, just as level 3, only you had witnessed. It's already rare to see level one tipsy, so you got surprised when you watched that dimension of Zayne blooming in front of you;

It usually happens when you two go out together to a new restaurant, especially the ones that have Italian or French cuisine, the ones that offer high-quality wine cellar. When you got sweet-grape-based alcohol drink and a doctor's sweet teeth together, you know, because the next day is his day off, that you're the one driving Zayne home tonight;

It takes the right conditions for him to get himself that tipsy; it's like seeing a double rainbow or else;

Tipsy Zayne is the dictionary's definition of a simp;

If he was already crumbling on level one, at level two, he's a whole new demeanor. That's the level he's not able to hold his thoughts — and tongue — anymore, so even though he's still a blushing mess, he will share with you how needy he truly is;

Zayne will compliment you, confess that the fact you didn't send him any sort of message/meme/emoji during his shift got him worried and upset, would reveal how many times he thought of you that day...he just will keep mumbling in simp language;

"Mamit- Manipja***...that's a word. learned last week? ...can't remember. It'sooo trusfating...I feel that every.time. we'retogether." *intensively blushes while looking deep into your soul. Looks away, all blushed and randomly change the topic.*

Will land you his coat anyway cause this man can lose an arm he'll still be top tier gentleman;

Zayne would grab your hand from the other side of the table and kiss it, rubbing his cheeks on the palm of your hand. It's a sign to head home;

The last time you delayed heading home when he start doing that hand kissing thing you two ended up fucking in the car;

Zayne is more desperate when he's like that. He always gets this urge under control when he's sober. However when he's tipsy, his beggingmometer would have a lower resistance;

Entering his home, stumbling on every corner, not knowing if it is the alcohol effect of the heat of the lustful kiss you're both sharing that's making his mind so foggy;

"Hmm...oh, fuck~~ᝰ.ᐟ𖹭ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢ Let me kneel, yeah? P-please let me kneel for you? I-i promise will be a good boy~ᝰ.ᐟ"

He would get more vocal, moaning depravedly, mumbling sweet nothings and revealing how much perverted thoughts he has;

Zaynw would get overwhelmed more easily, so he probably will cry during sex by how good it feels, and he can't take anymore orgasm denials;

It would be a total mess at the end, but a total cuddly boyfriend, asking for praises and drooling all over your collarbones at the aftercare;

Zyane would be an adorable vulnerable needy mess that deserves all the love and praise.

❆ Zayne Drunk level ࿐

It was only once in your lifetime that you witnessed this side of Zayne. And you never want to see it again, at least not at the setting of events that make it occur;

It was when you both had given at time to your relationship, not knowing exactly if you two would actually come back to each other. You and Zayne had broken up in some bad terms after a huge argument involving jealousy at work environment, plus you being wreckless as a hunter;

Two weeks after the break up, you decided to get back your things that still remained on his house;

When you entered his house — you still had the extra keys with you — you couldn't witness something more unexpected: the house that used to be all tidy up all the time was in a state of calamity. Zayne's dress clothes remained on the couch or careless on the floor, unwashed. There's work papers on every table surface possible, together with some high alcoholic elixir bottles here and there. All empty.

When you heard erratic steps walking towards you, you turned around to see Zayne failing his own gravity center when he tried to get closer. He was in a pitiful condition, the puffy red eyes announcing he probably had been crying or severely sleep deprived;

When he saw you, his eyes lighted up, and he desperately fell into his knees, begging forgiveness;

Even when he's on his most pathetic self, Zayne would never forget to kneel to you. After two weeks of trying to distract his mind, exhausting himself with work and alcohol, all he wanted was to have you back into his life again. He couldn't bear the idea of his life without your presence. So he cried and begged, and you hugged him, petting his hair, comforting him. He trembled on your embrace, warm tears soaking your neck as you, just like magic soothed him down. Poor doctor, bad as handling alcohol just as not being on mc's loving arms.

*** mamihlapinatapai: word to describe the feeling to people have when they're staring each other face a face, they wanna take action, but at the same time they both know none of them will make a move.

#l&ds #love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne #zayne l&ds #zayne love and deepspace #l&ds zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #sub!zayne × dom reader #sub zayne #headcanon #smut

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hyuckiefluff · 1 year

Text

drunk in you | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)

part 2

A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.

"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...

Oh my god, what happened last night?

8 hours earlier…

Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up.

Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you.

Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.

Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.

Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath. But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops.

Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.

"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.

But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.

You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him.

"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.

"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you.

So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him.

He looked hot as fuck.

It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.

"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.

You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.

In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.

Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.

"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.

"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.

The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.

Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.

Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?

Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived.

"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.

Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.

"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.

"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.

"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."

An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.

Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.

"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.

"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.

"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.

You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.

The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.

But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.

"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.

Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."

You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.

"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.

"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.

When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.

"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.

"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.

a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it

also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol

part 2

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct imagines #nct smut #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #nct moodboard #mark lee x you #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream drabbles #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic

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leahkentwriter · 20 days

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Backstories for girls and women in stories that *don't* involve sexual assault.

I beta read a lot, and am involved in writing communities of various kinds, and I briefly taught English way back in the day, and I consume storytelling media in general - and one of my biggest pet peeves is sexual assault backstories. While I think this is improving, it's still annoying to me that a lot of writers (of all genders, but particularly men) fall back on a sexual assault backstory whenever they need to make a girl or woman in a story complicated or haunted or fucked up in some way.

Unless your story is dealing with the topic of sexual assault in some way, please don't use it as a way to give a character depth or angst.

Here are some prompts, just to get you started with some ideas.

Why would a woman be trying to escape her past? Why would she be seeking a fresh start?

She hated her small town; the people there didn't understand her and she never felt like she fit in - she's queer, she has a weird birthmark, she's got unique interests, she has magical powers, etc.

She's a criminal - she robbed banks or stole cars and she wanted a fresh start

She was an addict and hurt people, and she wants a fresh start now that she's sober

Her parent is a criminal or an addict and she's trying to outrun the stigma of being related to them

She didn't get along with a stepparent and skipped town as soon as she turned 18

She had big dreams of being something else, and left to pursue them

Her childhood home was haunted, but no one believed her

She got married young then divorced, and wants to start over somewhere that no one knows her

Heartbreak of any variety - she's leaving a place that reminds her too much of someone she lost or couldn't have

She wants better; maybe more money, or a career, or simply a higher quality of life

Some other violent tragedy occurred - a school shooting, an explosion at the plant, police brutality, her best friend was killed, etc.

Her hometown no longer exists (climate change, the main factory shut down, it was overrun by rabid squirrels, etc.)

What would make a woman distrustful of others?

Heartbreak; being lied to, cheated on, left for her best friend, etc.

A big betrayal - her former best friend told everyone a secret about her, someone weaponized her trauma or her past or a major flaw she's sensitive about, etc.

She witnessed a traumatizing event as a child

Her mother was a grifter and used her as part of her scams

One parent cheated on the other and broke up the family

Her older brother isn't dead after all, he was disowned for being gay and now she's questioning everything her parents ever told her

She has problems with her memory, and is never quite sure what the truth is

She's bad at reading people and has been taken advantage of

She finds out a dark secret about someone she loves and is having trouble processing it

She gradually comes to see that someone she idealized as a child is not at all what they seem

Someone she thought was a good, kind, and genuine person is arrested for a terrible crime

Spiritual abuse - the worldview she was taught was right turns out to be exploitative, represses women, etc., so she leaves

What would cause a woman to have mental health issues?

Any form of abuse - doesn't have to be sexual

Her parents had really high expectations that she couldn't live up to

It simply runs in the family

Survivor's guilt - she survived something that someone else did not

She was bullied and no one protected her

Her parents were very controlling and destroyed her confidence

Her sibling was the golden child and she was the scapegoat

She's had issues since childhood but her parents refused to admit there was anything wrong with her, so she didn't get help

Being a part of any oppressed group of people who experience discrimination - she's a person of color, she's an immigrant, she's got a disability, she's queer, etc.

Any major trauma, either witnessed or being a part of - weather events and natural disasters, infrastructure collapse, crashes and accidents, fires, a shooting or a murder, etc.

You're a writer - get creative. There are lots of ways to traumatize and haunt a girl/woman character without having to resort to a sexual assault backstory. You can even make her the problem! Maybe she's the one who did something bad and is trying to outrun the guilt.

Let's also let go of the idea that it's meeting and falling in love with a man that saves her from her trauma. Let her have a healing arc that doesn't involve a man - a love story can still be there, but it can't be the magic healing balm that fixes her. Make her have to save herself. Give her autonomy to both make her own mistakes, and improve her own situation. Don't let your man go into savior mode - let him get frustrated with her. Let her push him away without him clinging to her in a desperate bid to show her what unconditional love is. Don't let him be a martyr to her trauma.

Women are complicated for many reasons. We have trauma for many reasons. We have mental health issues for many reasons. We may want to escape our past for many reasons. We're angsty and weird for many reasons.

Please pick literally anything other than sexual assault.

#writing #writing prompts #writing women #writing girls #how to write women #how to write backstories #backstories #writing advice #how to write #writing tips #writing characters #writing help

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spaceydoo · 1 year

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Blurred visions

drunk!ban who always has to be the loudest in the club and just says nonsense to anybody who’s willing to listen.

drunk!ban who picked a fight with some rando who he thought was trying to take a peek under your dress when he just so happened to drop his wallet right beside you. luckily, you broke the fight before anything got serious.

drunk!ban who brings you on the dance floor which you agreed to while he just grabbed your ass the whole time swaying left and right while he kept his head buried in your neck even though you were supposed to be “dancing”

drunk!ban who suggested that you take more than one shot so when y’all went home things would be “spiced up” but one of you had to be the sober one to drive so you declined.

drunk!ban who does dumb shit like saying everyone’s drinks were on him which you had to turn down cuz he wasn’t gonna spend all that money on something like that.

drunk!ban who makes you sit on his lap, back facing him whispering how much he loves you and placing kisses all on your neck letting soft moans out since the music covered them.

drunk!ban who knows what he’s doing to you from his intoxicating smell, his drunken eyes, the taste of alcohol in his mouth after a passionate kiss and his growing member.

drunk!ban who decides to ditch the club and do a little something in the car with you.

drunk!ban who brings you to the backseat, and strips you down to your underwear and lays you on your back, licking his lips at the meal in front of him.

drunk!ban who licks your soaking pussy while your panties were still on making you frustrated from the lack of contact.

drunk!ban who gets tired of this quick and rips your panties off you and eats you out as if he had been starved for days (he ate you out yesterday)

drunk!ban who is immediately pussy drunk and moans into your pussy, the vibrations sending you off the edge.

drunk!ban who adds one finger then two to your pretty pussy and curls it in just the right places.

drunk!ban who picks up the pace of his fingers and mouth when he knows you’re close and uses his other hand to massage your breast which made you grip his hair desperately needing more of him.

drunk!ban who gets squirted all over and laps it up while you ride out your high, bucking you hips against his tongue, shaking from how intense your orgasm was.

drunk!ban who never seen you shaking so much after being ate out which he took as an accomplishment.

drunk!ban who gives you a look that say “we bouta be here all night”

drunk!ban who begins to line himself up to your hole before crashing into with such force that you were already loosing your vision.

drunk!ban who fucks you fast and gives you kisses while you moan into his mouth unable to kiss him back.

drunk!ban who gets scratches from you on his back which he loves to admire in the mirror.

drunk!ban who sits up to admire your figure under the street light, still keeping his same pace when you pull him back with your legs wrapped around him to feel him at a whole different level.

drunk!ban who is grunting and moaning just as loud as you were when you both were getting so close.

drunk!ban who is slurring praises in your ear and how y’all should cum at the same time <33

drunk!ban who has never been this vocal in bed which surprised yo since you almost never hear him moan like this

drunk!ban who only had to fuck you a little more until you squirted on his cock, soaking the car seats while he came inside you.

drunk!ban who rested on top of you fucking you slowly as he spilled his seed into you

drunk!ban who gives you about a minute to rest until he began fucking you without mercy while tears were forming from overstimulation and your moans gradually became louder which he hid with sloppy kisses

gotta love drunk ban <3

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saintgoo · 9 months

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Tomorrow, Today, and Yesterday ☆

PARING: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Best friend's brother trope, angst-ish

WARNINGS: Forced kiss (not from Rafe tho)

wc: 1.3k ★ ... masterlist

Okay, maybe you shouldn't have drunk so much. Maybe you were too stubborn to take Sarah's advice and drink less, and maybe you were just realizing that now.

With clumsy steps, you got up from the bathroom floor after vomiting, heading to the sink washing your mouth and fixing your makeup. When Liam followed you like a dog the entire time at that party, you knew you would have to give him as little attention as he could let go of you, you just didn't expect to have to dance all night with him and be offered a kiss, and it was still 11 at night!

When he asked you for a kiss during the dance, all you could do was excuse yourself and go straight to the bathroom to escape the situation for a bit. The alcohol in your system should have given you the courage to refuse and maybe even finally tell him how unbearable and inconvenient he was being, but apparently all that drinking just made you more shy.

Locking the bathroom door, you were taken by surprise when the urge to vomit came out of nowhere, leaving you even a little more sober afterwards.

You sighed deeply when you finished adjusting, unlocking the door and walking slowly to the living room, where Liam was waiting for you. You saw him sitting on the couch next to Topper and a few other people you didn't know. When he saw you he smiled and walked towards you, hands stopping on your hips as if you were close friends or something else.

"Are you okay?" He asked, you didn't miss his peek at your chest, making you feel disgusted. You nodded, putting your arms around his neck reluctantly. You hated yourself so much at that moment for not speaking up for yourself. “So…” he continued after your lack of words.

“Do you wanna kiss me?"

You swallowed hard and looked away at Sarah on the stairs, holding the phone to her ear, as if she were on a call. “Look, Liam…” You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking of some way to politely decline.

Liam gradually lessened his smile, a frown appearing between his two eyebrows and he bit his lower lip when you took too long to respond. Suddenly, he took one of his hands from your hip to place it behind your head, forcing your mouth into contact.

You gasp in surprise, pushing at his chest trying to push him away. Until a sudden force separates the two of you, seeing Liam being pushed hard you look at the source of the confusion, Rafe with a deadly look at the boy. The brunette falls hard to the ground and Rafe points his finger at him, his voice showing his anger “Don’t lay a finger on her, you fucker!”

And so, he takes your hand brutally. Without much implication you let him take you, just confused and grateful for him getting you out of that situation.

Raffe led you out of the house, taking you away from the party. There was a look of anger on his face, and his grip on your hand was tight. You were grateful for him getting you out of there, and you didn't know what would have happened if he didn't. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice how strong and protective he was. He had always been there for you, even thou you were just his sister's friend.

He took you to his car parked in front of the party house, opening the door for you before going around and getting into the driver's seat. Rafe sighed deeply, closing his eyes and laying his head on the back of the seat, his fingers with rings touching his face.

Silence surrounded the car, only the party music muffled in your ears. You turned to look at him, trying to memorize all his features bathed in lunar light. "Are you okay?" You asked, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He sighed, removing his hand from his face and looking at you with a tired look. “I should be the one asking you that.” he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. "Are ya okay? Did he hurt you?”

Rafe looked at you with a concerned look, his eyes searching your face for any signs of distress. You shook your head slightly, but something about his gaze made you feel safe. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face again, and you were struck by how gentle his touch was. You glanced over at him, and a wave of heat rose within you as you saw how his strong fingers caressed your cheek.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of heat rise within you as Rafe's fingers caressed your cheek. He was treating you like a fragile flower, and the touch of his fingers on your skin made your breath catch. You wanted to look away, but his eyes were so intense you couldn't look away, they were like magnets. His gaze made you feel like the most important thing in the entire world, and you felt like you could melt into a puddle of goo right there on the seat.

Your breath slowed, and you felt the tension that had accumulated during the situation with Liam start to fall away. As Rafe's touch on your skin continued, you felt your tension melting away, leaving you feeling relaxed and at peace. His touch was a warm and gentle reminder that someone cared for you.

"I'm fine. But why did you come to the party anyway?” Confusion evident on your face as he had said he preferred to stay home when you invited him to the party.

“Sarah called, said some guy was bothering you.” he sighed, running his hand lightly over your face and then taking it away. “Look, I'm sorry if I was too harsh there, I just couldn't control myself watching the scene.” He explained himself.

You looked at him confused, why did he care so much? You noticed how rude he was to everyone, even his own sister, but with you he seemed like he had taken a tranquilizer, you can't remember even once that he had treated you badly. He seemed to hate everyone except you.

“Rafe,” You caught his attention, “why don’t you hate me?”

“Do you want me to hate you?”

He looked directly into your eyes, but you did not meet his, instead looking down, trying to control your nervousness. “I… I don’t understand. Why do you treat me so well? Why don’t you hate me like everyone else?”

He sighed deeply, looking out the car window. “Why would I hate you? I never hated you. I love you tomorrow, today and yesterday.”

“Love?!” Your voice caught on the word. It sounded strange to you, coming out of your mouth. For the first time in your life saw Rafe nervous, or maybe he was shy. What mattered was that you realized how nervous he was in your presence.

Summoning all your courage, you called him again, making him look at you. “Would you be mad if I kissed you?”

And with that, all of Rafe's forces were gone. All he could think was that he had been waiting for this for so long, and when the opportunity finally arrived he embraced it tightly. Rafe put his hand on your face and desperately kissed you, and you both felt all the emotions hitting you hard.

He held your waist and you jumped into his lap, your arms around his neck and his hand on your waist. Panting, the two of you broke apart, bodies and foreheads pressed together.

“I love you, [Name],” he whispered, his mouth touching yours, “tomorrow, today, and yesterday.”

Send me a request! ☆

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kuroppiii · 2 months

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apple bottom jeans ᵕ̈ timeskip!hq men ( atsumu , shōyō , oikawa , ushijima ) that i think can actually dance at the club ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : and i DON ' T mean just ⋮⋮ two-stepping to the music blasting, ⋮⋮ jesus christ no!!!

📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ( ? ) ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛 ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 ♡ # ~500 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 ♡ # 𝙘𝙬 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 ! ( 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 ) + 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

🎶 on shuffle " dare " - gorillaz

🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ thought of this while listening to gorillaz 💪 someone take me out partying pleaseee i need to dance and sweat and get buzzed again !! ”

︴miya atsumu ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

big frat guy energy but unfortunately he gets away with it because they way he looks at you, drink in hand, as he's bumpin to the beat is HOTTTT

like guys... c'mon now

with the top buttons of his shirt undone and like a chain on yes pls

the type to look straight into your eyes as you two sing along to songs line for line, BAR! for BAR!!!

lots of action with the arms and elbows from him (yeah frat energy i fear)

hand on your ass as you two vibe to the music, definitely, no question

he'd be hyping you up too with like one of those stupid cartoonish-ass whistles AHHHH THE DEMONS ARE MAKING ME TYPE THIS

also he can get into it without even drinking like just let this man dance!!! (but ofc he has a few shots it's a fucking party lmao)

beige flag: he will jump up and down to some carti or kanye or some shit and he will look a bit corny if you really squint

︴hinata shōyō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

A LITTLE MUCH AT TIMES like babes this is not magic mike chill with the body rolling bud

but also the redheads got some good moves, good for him!

it's all in the shoulders 🫡

like think that timothee chalemet edit that went viral during quarantine (💀💀💀)

likes to spin you around and really dance with you y'know

holding ur hands the whole time aw

just wants to make sure yall are having a good time

watch out for when those latin songs come on tho because this boy will go HAMMM

shoyo my brazillian king x bad bunny? YUPPPP

p.s. he would def end up crowd surfing somehow

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

one that sways along with you from behind so that randos can't sneak up on you (romance is so back!!)

hands always on your waist, holding you close

talks to you by bending down and mumbling into your ear barkbarkwoofbarkwoofwoof

like a chiller 'tsumu bc i don't think he's really the type to be belting lyrics with you like that but he's definitely feeling himself LORD

don't be scared, shake some ass on him, he don't mind 🤷‍♀️

if he ends up in front of you, gets really close to you, like all up in your personal space, still dancing ofc

but he can't help his eyes RAKING you up and down when you two are like that heart eyes

if a nikki minaj song comes own he definitely knows all the lyrics OOPS WHO SAID THAT NOT ME

︴ushijima wakatoshi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

HEAR ME OUT

he needs a few drinks to get there BUT!!! he can get a little loose you feel me?

it's starts out gradual, bc completely sober he's definitely a two-stepper booooo

but as the alcohol kicks in, and they especially play the more fun and carefree songs not so much the tiktok thirst trap type tracks lol–he starts opening up more!

and its kinda cute like his skillset is kinda limited to dance moves straight out of a coming of age film dance montage

lowkey the toby maguire dance from spiderman 3 is gonna make an appearance (ushi secret geek agenda but that's my ted talk for another day)

i can see him getting turnt to some chappell roan (him doing the hot to go! dance 😭)

but but but the BEST part's when he's fighting back a smile as he's dancing, you two feeling like you're the only ones on the dance floor together

or your arms up and around his neck and his hands on your hips, him not being able to keep his eyes off you, feeling the bass hitting in your chests... yeahhhh

⇩ ⇩ ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::

︴nishinoya yū + tanaka ryūnosuke ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

i HAVE to put them together in an honorable mention because you bet if one of them is dancing, the other is holding their phone flashlight up, shining it all on the other

they both pull up in shades even if the club is inside 💀💀💀

dance circle? THEY'RE GETTING STURDY IN THERE

THEY'RE DOING THE WORM

GETTIN DOWN LOWWWW

maybe even hitting the gritty? who knows? ironically ofc (not)

like yeah they obviously can dance well with someone each on their own

but the amount of money i'd pay to go clubbing with the both of them? embarrassingly large amount i'm willing to give up

trulyyy life of the party when they're both on the dancefloor together

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blushedfemmes · 20 days

Note

didn't even realize i was into intox before your blog, now i fantasize about showing up drunk at your place enough times that when i start showing up sober you feel comfortable resting a hand on my bulge while pouring shot after shot down my throat, and when i start slurring my words you know it's time to straddle me and push your nipple into my mouth

(went a little wild with this one, 1.3k words. butch/masc reader x femme dom)

my place just so happens to be within walking- or rather, stumbling- distance of your favorite bar, so i’ve grown accustomed to your late-night texts, ‘hiii im drjnk cna i come ovr’

you don’t know how much i enjoy the way you cling to my doorframe and grin at me, greet me with a “heyyyy,” face flushed, before staggering inside to flop onto my couch and sleep it off.

sometimes you stay awake for a little while, loudly recounting your night or complaining about work. i coax your head into my lap, playing with your hair until you fall asleep, drooling into my thigh. more than once you lunge into me for a sloppy kiss, and you have not the slightest clue how wet i am at the haze of booze on your breath, how much your clumsy searching hands turn me on.

you have no idea.

in fact, you’re thinking you’ve pretty much been a total ass.

so you show up sober one evening and really make an effort to show contrition: you’re freshly-showered, sharply-dressed, sheepishly holding a bouquet of flowers. hard-packing, too, hopeful that i might let you show me you actually know what you’re doing when you’re not all stupid with booze.

i pour us some wine and we talk. gradually you feel more at ease. you don’t think much of it when i keep topping off your glass- i’ve always been such a kind host, haven’t i? if anyone’s overstepped boundaries, it’s you, and the idea that i might get you drunk on purpose is the furthest thing from your mind. you’re not getting drunk off wine, anyway, you’re too grown for that. you’re just feeling very warm and very glad that i’m not mad at you. on the contrary, i seem to be happy you’re here. i’m flirting with you. wearing something silky that clings to my curves and sitting very close to you, walking my fingers up your arm, making your face burn and your dick throb. you struggle to focus on my words, what with my softness pressed up next to you and my breath fanning across your neck. “i just got some really nice mezcal, have you ever tried it?” you admit you haven’t. the next thing you know i’m bringing out the bottle, setting it on the coffee table with two shot glasses.

you chuckle, a bit uncertain. here you were trying to be a gentleman for once, trying to be classy. show me that i’m not just a couch to crash on after the bar. i pour two shots. you’ve had like three or four glasses of wine, it was hard to keep track when i kept refilling your glass, and you’re solidly buzzed, veering into tipsy. you’re trying to find the words to politely refuse, but then i put a hand on your thigh when i offer you the shot glass. you take it. just one, you tell yourself. just to try it, to be polite. it’ll be fine. we cheers, and you toss it back. it burns nice. smoke, a little whip at the back of the throat, plus a subtle sweetness. warmth pools immediately in your chest. you smile. “mm, that’s good-” you stop. you cock your head. “hey, you didn’t take your shot.”

i climb into your lap, and grab your jaw to force your mouth open, nails digging into your cheek. you’re a little confused and a little scared but way, way too turned-on to think straight. that shot went right to your groin. my silky dress is riding up around my hips as i straddle you and you’re getting a really nice view of my tits.

“that’s because it’s not my shot,” i tell you, in a cheerful, firm voice. “it’s yours.” i pour it down your throat.

you swallow most of it, but gag a little in your shock. you cough, sputtering. i grab the bottle and pour another one, chuckling at you. “that wasn’t very smooth. better give you another chance.”

your head is spinning. all the blood that was in your brain has rushed elsewhere, on top of the alcohol, and suddenly you sense this situation is getting away from you. “um, i don’t know if-”

my nails shut you up, sharp along the tender underside of your jaw. i tilt my head. gaze down at you like a cat toying with its prey. “y’know, i’ve really enjoyed your late night visits. but i think i like this even more. c’mon. show me you can hold your liquor, sweetheart.”

the pet name and the soft command in my voice has you opening your mouth and swallowing it all down. i grin. “good job,” i purr, and you’re throbbing so much it’s almost painful now. you can’t resist rubbing your hands up my thighs, underneath my dress, around to squeeze my ass. i hum in approval, grinding back into your grip. i settle myself a little lower, to press my heat into your bulge, separated only by the thin lace of my lingerie. your eyes roll back, groaning.

“you feeling good?” my hand curls around the back of your neck.

you nod.

i dig my nails into your neck, hard. “i need a full sentence, hotshot.”

“yeah, i’m- uh… feeling good,” you manage, and you have to take a little more care to form the words.

“good. that means you can handle another one.”

after the third shot, you’re dizzy and so very warm. i unbutton your shirt, to help you out. my hands are all over you, soft and smooth and slightly cool. delicate fingers and sharp, sharp nails. i press a hand to the center of your chest, another around your throat. “your heart is beating so fast,” i murmur, in mock sympathy. “how do you feel?”

it’s all hitting you. like an anvil to the head. your tongue is thick in your mouth. “feelin’ kinda tis- tisp- tipsy, jeez,” you laugh. “think ‘m good.”

i’m already pouring another shot. “you tap out after three shots at the bar?” i scoff.

you want to point out you’re usually not doing shots on a belly full of wine, but you can’t quite get the words to line up. i’m not wearing a bra and this fact is taking a good amount of your focus. you’re mesmerized by the jiggle of my tits as i move and the way my nipples peek through the fabric. i reach down and squeeze your bulge, rub you gently. it feels so good. it’s so easy to give in, when i hold your face and tell you sweetly, “drink up, there you go,” as shot number four slides down your throat.

“lissen’, i wanted- fuuuck.” you tip your head onto the back of the couch, letting out a heavy breath as i keep rubbing your bulge, holding onto your shoulder. a pleasurable, torturous ache builds inside you. you close your eyes, mumbling, “wanted‘a do things right, be a-” you try and fail to swallow a burp, “‘scuse me. be a ‘gennelman. wanted’a be good- uhhh…”

you trail off, slack-jawed, because i slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders while you were talking, let the fabric fall, revealing my tits. i grab one, and tilt forward to put it in your open mouth. you start sucking instinctively, eyelids fluttering. you feel comforted by the weight of me in your lap and my soft tit in your mouth and my nails in your scalp, anchoring while the room tilts and spins around you.

“don’t worry. you’re being so good for me, sweetheart.” my voice is honey in your ear. you know you’d take another shot, you’d take whatever i give you, just to keep me talking to you like that.

you can hear my smile when i say, “this is exactly how i wanted you.”

#clarke answers #intox #intox tw #cnc tw #forced intox #godddd yeah um 🙈 this was so fun ty for the prompt anon #intox story

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saulocept · 3 months

Text

a streetcar named desire

pairing: kenji sato/reader

rating: g

summary: “Do you love him?”

You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve in the entirety your life. You know that, of course, know it still, even now.

But now you’re not so sure.

notes: timeline's a little wonky here. set after the film, with a sprinkle of spoilers if you haven't yet watched :)

tags: pining. mostly.

Even now, you’re still not entirely sure how things had ended up this way. You’re not even supposed to be here, staying over at Kenji’s apartment – colder and emptier than his previous one – nursing your glass of wine, listening to him tell you stories about his career, littered, as always, with his theories of kaiju existence in America.

It’s supposed to be a quick visit, just to help him get a feel for his new home, and yet you’re still here, watching as the seconds tick by on the clock, taking a slow sip of your wine as you listen to him ramble on and about something. You’re not entirely paying attention now at this point, especially when he doesn’t sound too sober anymore. Even his topics have become a jumble now, jumping from one to another, without you having to say much.

At this point, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself, but he’s far too adorable to stop. And besides, when’s the last time the two of you have got together like this? As children, you’re both inseparable, talking about anything and everything – no secrets in between. But as adults, you’ve both been terribly busy. Him with his career, and you with yours. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d heard his voice outside of your television, blaring cool and confidently through your speakers, masking the fact that he’s anything but in real life.

With the news of your engagement reaching his ears, he’d promptly told you off through a phone call, refusing to answer any of your calls and ignoring all of your text messages, no matter how times you’d told him you’re sorry.

You know you’re supposed to tell him first; he’s your best friend, after all. Of course, you’re supposed to tell him everything first, every news, no matter how good or bad, long before anyone else. You’d both made that vow since you were children, and yet with everything piling up on your plate: wedding preparations, work demands, you’ve just never had enough time and gradually forgot about it.

At first, you’d been terribly afraid he wouldn’t talk to you again, so you’d flooded his inbox with a bunch of messages, each one an apology, varying the spelling just a tiny bit, so none of them would get flagged as a spam mail. You can’t tell if you’d succeeded; after all, he’d never replied to a single one of them.

At one point, you’d even entertained the idea of flying over to visit him, just to personally apologize, but your upcoming wedding had made that practically impossible.

And then before you knew it, there was a knock on your door, unbidden and unexpected. You’d expected it to be a robbery; in this part of the city, nothing’s impossible, after all, and it was two in the morning – anything could happen, but what you didn’t expect was to see a familiar face, slightly changed but still the same as you remember. Kenji Sato.

Kenji Sato, crashing over at your apartment at two in the morning, exhausted from the flight and slightly tipsy, because yours was the first address he could recall. Or at least, that’s what he’d told you. You’d never got quite the chance to ask him about that, especially when he’d promptly passed out on your couch after roughly a minute of conversation.

He’d left the morning after, quickly finding himself an apartment despite your protests that he could stay with you for as long as he needed.

And now here you are. Enjoying a drink, conversing with him like there’s nothing’s changed between you. Like old times, when you’re still just college kids sneaking out late at night for impromptu study sessions, and for a midnight snack at the nearest McDonald’s.

But now you’re both older. And something’s changed between you, even if you’re not quite sure what it is yet.

“How long will you stay here for?” you ask, resting your chin against your palm, trying to make conversation. Absently, you watch the lights flicker against the glass table. A new one, not the one from his old apartment. You’ve half the heart to ask him about it: where’d it go, whether he’d sold it or left it be, but stop yourself at the last second. It’s not wise to pick at old wounds, no matter how curious you get. He’d tell you when he’s ready, you tell yourself,

He sits across from you, distant, farther than you’ve ever had him. Was he always this far from you before? Did you just never notice? “Just for the month,” he says, his eyes almost glimmering in the dim light. There’s something else in there – some meaning, some implication, hidden behind the shortness of his response. Just for the duration of your wedding. Nothing else.

“And then you’ll be off again soon.” It’s not a question, but rather a remark. When he’d left a year ago, you’d assumed it had been for good. A permanent decision, one that you would have no say in. He’d told you as much before, on the phone, just a night before his flight. He’d never told you what ultimately pushed him to do it, and you’d never had the heart to ask. Back then, the loss of his mother was a fresh wound, raw and bleeding. But now, it feels like a distant memory, an old scar that lingers about him, a miasma you can’t quite fix, and a ghost he can never get rid of.

“Mm-hm.” He shrugs, leans back against the couch, raising his glass his lips. He takes another sip of his wine. Not an agreement, but not quite the opposite. He looks away after a moment, stares blankly at the wall, lets the silence stretch between you. You follow his gaze, note the lack of pictures, portraits. His old apartment had been more vibrant, colorful, littered with a thousand photos, his childhood trophies arranged in a neat row, dusted and polished every single day. Well taken care of, no doubt by his mother.

And yet this one’s emptier. Duller, more lifeless. Granted, it’s a new apartment, and you’re still helping him arrange his stuff, but it still doesn’t change the overall vibe of the place.

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask all of a sudden, breaking the silence between you. You lean forward, placing your empty wine glass back on the table, staring at him in earnest, watching his face for some kind of reaction. You can’t help but be curious; he seems different somehow, more sullen, melancholic, and you’re not sure why. Is there something he’s not telling you?

He snorts, looks up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing about the corners of his. Familiar, and yet not quite the same. “You’re my best friend. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you’re the last to hear about my engagement?”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” he says, waves his hand dismissively like it’s no big deal, like he didn’t just ignore your texts for a whole week. “I’m busy, you’re busy. We both have stuff to deal with. I get it. It’s all part of life.”

“And yet you’re still childish enough to believe in all those kaiju stuff.” You don’t mean to say it, not really. You know how much he believes in those; even when you were both children, he’d told you all kinds of stories, sketching an incomprehensible doodle at the back of your math notebook when it’s clear you couldn’t understand a word he’s saying.

He narrows his eyes at you, looking almost annoyed. “You want me to ignore you for a week straight again?” There’s no real edge to his voice, there never is, just a playful sharpness that has you biting the inside of your cheek in an attempt to stifle a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” you say, playing along, reaching for your glass and then the bottle of wine, filling your glass just halfway before placing the bottle back on the table. “Please don’t back out of the wedding. You know you’re the only one I can trust there.”

“Maybe I will,” he says, almost tauntingly. His voice drops, grows into a whisper, more serious. “You know I’ve never liked that fiancé of yours.”

You know that, of course. He’s never kept that a secret from you; even back when you and your fiancé had started dating, Kenji’s never failed to voice his disapproval out loud, as though he could somehow get you to change your mind before things are too late. You’ve almost lost count how many times he’d talked shit about him to your face, making fun of everything: from his name (“Sylvester. Really?”); to the way he stands (like he’s one minute away from constipating); to the way he dresses (like his grandmother’s wallpaper).

You shake your head, sigh, take another sip of your drink. “We’re about to get married soon, you know. You can’t just talk shit about him like before.”

“You can still back out now.” He sounds serious, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. You pause, look up at him, searching his face for something. His eyes are dark, his expression opaque. You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, or what he’s feeling, but all you know is that he’s serious about this.

“But I—” you begin, stopping as soon as you realize you’re not entirely sure what you’re going to say. But I love him. It feels like an instinctive response, a kneejerk reaction rather than the truth, something you’re supposed to say instead of something you actually mean. You stare at him for a long time, mouth agape, suddenly at a loss for words.

He doesn’t wait for you to finish, find the right words. “Do you love him?”

You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him; Sylvester’s a good man, a good boyfriend – he never forgets the important dates, the important details. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve. You know that, of course, know it still, even now. At the time, it had been enough.

But now, you’re not so sure. You’ve never really sat down and thought if you truly loved him. You’ve never really had enough time, and confronting the truth of the matter seems more than you bargain for. You’re comfortable with him, yes, but is that enough to call it love?

When he’d knelt down and proposed to you in front of an audience you never quite felt comfortable with, you just said yes. Automatically, instinctively, mostly because that’s what anyone in your position would say. But love’s never been part of the equation. Not when it comes to him, to this.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice jolting you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, he raises his glass to his lips, downs it all in one go. Quickly, he grabs the bottle from the table, fills his glass to the brim, the liquid nearly overflowing. “You know I’m not trying to ruin your wedding.”

“I know.”

He brings his glass closer to yours, gives you a tentative smile. “Peace?”

“Peace.”

You clink your glass to his, then, following his example, you down the liquid in one go.

This is a bad idea, objectively so. At the back of your mind, you’re well aware of how terrible it is to stay longer in his apartment, getting drunk out of your mind. You have a meeting in a few hours with your boss and it wouldn’t do well for you to arrive at work with a hungover, or slightly drunk and nursing a headache.

But you can’t help it. And you can never say no to him.

You should’ve stopped after a few glasses. You’ve told yourself you’ll stop after the third one, but for some reason, you’re still here, taking a languid sip of your drink, cringing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. You’re not even sure what you’re drinking now at this point. Vaguely, you’re aware that you’ve emptied all the wine you had a few hours ago, and now you’re drinking something else. Something darker, bitter.

Stronger too, from the looks of it, as evidenced from the buzzing in your head.

Not that Kenji’s faring any better. If anything, he seems even drunker than before, more than you even. He’s lying down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his glass sitting innocently beside him, nearly empty. He’s always been worse at holding his alcohol than you are – having no coach who tells you what you should and shouldn’t do definitely helps with the tolerance, though it’s not a feat you can brag at parties.

“So,” he begins, hiccupping a little, pointing at something you can’t quite see. Slowly, he turns to look at you, raising his head so he can look at you. “You believe in kaiju?”

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. There’s a buzzing in your head, an incoming headache. Maybe you’re getting older and reaching your limit. Or maybe you’re just losing your touch. You sit up straighter, gently rubbing your temples, trying to ease the feeling. “Not real. Didn’t you watch the documentary with me before? The one where they debunked it?”

“What if…” he begins, pauses, hiccupping once more. “What if I told you they’re real?”

You raise an eyebrow, resting your chin against your palm as you stare down at him, watching him in amusement. “And you got proof of that, mister?”

“Yep.” Quickly, he stands up on the floor, swaying a little from side to side. He wobbles to his feet, and he only manages to take a few steps before he’s stumbling about, losing his balance in the process and falling face-first on the floor. With a laugh, you stand up from your seat, helping him up and gently guiding him back into the couch, placing him on the empty space beside you.

“Come on,” you say, laughing. “You’re clearly drunk.”

“Not drunk,” he says, shaking his head. He shifts a little, lays his head on your lap, his feet dangling at the edge of the couch. He stares up at you, his eyes hazy and unfocused, absently taking you in.

You hum under your breath, smiling at him. “Hi.”

He’s quiet, doesn’t say anything. Slowly, he reaches out, touches your cheek. He’s a little clumsy this time; more than a few times, he’s nearly poked your eye out, but there’s a practiced gentleness behind his touch, a muscle memory he can’t quite forget even when his mind is slowed by the alcohol. His palm is rough, callused, no doubt from years of practice, training, littered with scars you’re not quite sure where he got. You take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together, marveling at how perfectly your hands fit even after all these years.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Stop that.”

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence, just to poke fun at him, though you still don’t let go of his hand, enjoying the warmth of his hand against yours. “You’re the one who touched me first.”

He shakes his head, ignores your remark, frees his hand from your grip, lets it rest against his stomach. “I’ve seen kaiju before,” he says, his voice growing softer, quieter.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, eyebrows furrowing a little in thought. “Uh. Huge?”

“Like in the movies?”

He rolls his eyes, looking almost offended. “Those movies suck.”

“You’re the one who told me to watch them!”

“Well, I’m telling you now: they suck.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “What do you mean they suck? You loved them when we were kids!”

“I’m not a kid now, am I?”

“That hasn’t stopped you from acting like one.”

“Very funny.” He turns to glare at you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest not to laugh. A moment of silence settles between you: warmer this time, more comfortable. Familiar. As if all that gap between you has suddenly disappeared, leaving nothing but this old familiarity behind. This is how it’s always been between you, isn’t it?

You’ve missed this, more than you could even think of. You’ve almost forgot how it feels like: the casualty of his affection, the warmth of his touch. How you fit perfectly together, like complementary puzzle pieces. Like two halves of the same soul.

Instinctively, you lean in, reaching out to brush a stray strand away from his face. This close, you could see every little detail on his face: the dark circles beneath his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows. The fullness of his lips. How soft they are from this distance.

You’re not sure what possessed you to do it, but you’re doing it long before you could think twice. Curiously, you run a finger along his lower lip, gently tracing the outline; it’s a little chapped, though nothing too bad. Maybe you should buy him a chapstick as a present?

Just as quickly as that thought crosses your mind, you pull back, jolting your hand away from him as though you’ve been burned. He stares at you, his eyes dark, his expression suddenly unreadable. You bite your lip, looking almost ashamed. “Sorry—”

He doesn’t let you finish. Without warning, he reaches out, grips your wrist with one hand, pulling you just the slightest bit closer. This time, he meets your gaze head-on. “Don’t marry him.”

“I—what?” you ask, blinking at him a few times, looking a little uncertain. Gently, you try to shake your hand free from his grip. He lets you go easily enough, and you’re not entirely sure why it leaves you feeling cold, empty. “Ken, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer your question, doesn’t say anything for a long time, his expression still as opaque as ever, unreadable. You stare back at him, eyebrows furrowing a little in concern. “You’re not sick, are you?” you ask, frowning; slowly, you lean in, placing your hand against his forehead, trying to get a feel for his temperature.

He’s a little warm beneath your touch, though you can’t quite tell if it’s from a fever or it’s simply from the alcohol. You sigh, shaking your head, staring at him worriedly. “I told you drinking’s a bad idea.”

He snorts, as though in amusement, then leans away from your touch. “You know what I wish for every night?” he asks, his voice growing softer, quieter that you have to lean close to hear.

“What?”

“For that fiancé of yours to get eaten by a kaiju.”

A nervous laugh escapes you, forced and awkward. “Come on, Ken,” you say, poking him a little at the cheek, trying to catch his attention. “You know that’s a childish thing to say. I know you never liked him, but you can’t really wish for that.”

“Can’t I?” He meets your eyes then, his expression serious. He doesn’t seem drunk this time, only honest.

“Of course not,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re supposed to wish us well, you know. And be happy about it.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.” He sounds almost sulky now, childishly so, like a kid who hasn’t been given a candy. You’d laugh at the sight if it isn’t so ridiculous.

“Are you serious?” you ask, voice growing louder, taking on a higher-pitch. You rub your temples soothingly with the pads of your fingers, trying to soothe the incoming headache. “Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean—”

He frowns, cuts you off before you can say the rest of your words. “You don’t understand.”

You give him a level look. “Then make me understand.”

“I—” he begins, stops. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops, hesitating. With a sigh, he shakes his head, looks away. “Never mind,” he says, and his voice is colder now, unfamiliar. He glances at the clock, at the flashing red numbers on the screen. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”

And just like that, the veil is back once more, the distance between you growing farther and farther. Slowly, you stand up from the couch, untangling yourself from him in the process. A hollow feeling follows you afterward, lingers around you as you stumble about in his apartment, trying to find your belongings: your coat hanging on the makeshift rack at the door; your shoes at the doorway.

Quietly, you slip out of his apartment, locking the door behind you, teeth chattering from the cold wind that breezes past you. By the time morning comes around, he’ll forget about this – hopefully – and everything will be alright between you. But for now, you’ll go back to your apartment, grab a bottle of wine from the shelf, and drink yourself to oblivion.

At least until you manage to stop thinking about everything.

#renwrites #kenji sato x reader

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thedomesticanthropologist · 5 months

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this is it yall I DID IT!! today's the 100TH DAY of my sobriety

Thank you so, so much to everyone here who has commented, replied, sent asks, private messaged me throughout this journey sending me support and love - it means more than you know 💕

In the last 100 days I have been able to write and draw more, I have been gradually less anxious and my dark brain thoughts have spiraled much less than when using. I got my dreams back, literally- it had been years since u recalled draming at night and now I remember every couple nights dreams.

I learned that for an addict, getting sober doesn't mean not wanting to drink/smoke. I may always have the desire to. But now I know I am strong enough to fight back and win.

100 days!!!!

#clean and sober #sobriety #cannabis addiction #addiction recovery #addiction #alcohol addiction #100 days sober

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lacunazai · 5 months

Note

I get that tbh so let me give you this:

Drunk and clingy Chuuya who won't let anyone touch him besides his beloved <3

oh drunk clingy chuuya my roman empire ( while writing this I realised gradually that i was not at all prepared to write this evening. oops. ) (( it's fine the post won't get far I think ))

it's just a port mafia party, some celebratory banquet for completing a rather large tradeoff mission. of course chuuya is the one that cracks open the fanciest bottle. the one with a few too many digits and zeros for any normal person to glance twice at. but he's always been an extravagant guy, and the more expensive it tastes the better quality it is. that's what he thinks, anyway.

he doesn't particularly bother trying to limit the glasses he intakes, why should he? koyo was staying sober, so was hirotsu, enough people that he'd be perfectly fine if anything severe happened. might as well enjoy the night as it lasts.

It's when his vision starts to blur that the first problem arises. his movements are more staggered as he struggles to keep his balance - and he lets out an almost embarassingly high pitched whine of frustration to avoid when koyo reaches out a hand to try and help stabilise him.

chuuyas knees hit the ground, a few heads turn, but its nothing too interesting. the executive had been known for not bring able to handle his alcohol too well, after all. It's when koyo leans down to help him up, and her hand is slapped away - that more people have their eyes on the scene before them.

after all, nobody who'd responded to her with violence was treated kindly in the past.

but she knows different. chuuya wouldn't do that to her - the 15 year old she spent nights trying to teach basic table manners wouldn't hit her with aggression in mind. so it had to be something else.

she let's out a gentle sigh as she calls your cell. if anyone had noticed how chuuya has a painful softspot for you, it was her. if anyone could help with a situation like this, it'd be you.

the conversation doesn't last long. a simple polite request for you to come pick him up, to see if he'll let you pick him up. and when you arrive, he obviously sees you before you spot him, a slurred whiny call of your name cutting through the crowd. one that'd have a sober chuuya breaking brick walls with his skull to forget about it.

you move over to him, listening to his unintelligible blabbers as he clings to your leg. the gentle sobs as he nuzzles into the fabric of the trousers you'd lazily thrown on. the whimpers of "I missed you s'much.." "where were you?.." "my pretty thing.."

it takes a moment to get him onto his feet again, feeling his full weight lean into you as you do so. you call a thanks to koyo, hearing her gentle giggle as you lug your boyfriend out of the party. a response of "good luck with him!" rings past the music on the speakers.

getting him home was an effort. dragging him into bed with his entire damn weight on you should've got you an olympics medal. but seeing his hazy eyes search for you, a blubber of your name as he spots you. and those gloved hands reaching like you're the only thing he'll ever need in life. it's hard to stay mad.

you settle beside him in bed, letting him wrap around you like a koala. chosing to not comment on the smell of his breath as he whispers love to you for the simplest things. he's always been sweet to you like that.

you feel the way his hands still as he drifts to sleep. from idly fiddling with your clothes to completely stone on your side. listening to the way his breathing relaxes. he felt so safe around you. it'd always been you. that's how he liked it.

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haitani-maki · 5 months

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𝙳𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚎?

•Rindou Haitani mild ANGST, betrayal (by Rindou), slight mentions of alcoholic beverage (Rindou), he is a loser

•English is not my first language

Who would have thought that of the Haitani brothers, Rindou would be the one who would betray his partner?

But what did you expect, he was always out drinking or in clubs. And he didn't keep good company...

You trusted, of course you did. He was attentive to you, he was a good listener and took time for you

He was soft with you making you feel safe.

A year of dating and you thought everything was going well while Rindou had been seeing someone else for 3 months...

Everyone knew except you. Why would anyone tell you? You were the joke of the group.

But someone was starting to get tired of it.

Once again your boyfriend spent the night out, it had been hours since you had heard from him

You thinking he must have come home drunk and gone to sleep… How innocent you are.

It was already afternoon when you received some messages, taking out your cell phone excitedly thinking it would be Rindou

It's ironic that this happens on a good day for you.

An unknown number sent photos and videos of Rindou and another person, the most recent photo being of him sleeping in the same bed as her.

She was wearing the same shirt he wore last night, the same one he had on when he went to see you before heading to the club.

A feeling of pain burns throughout your body, your world has fallen apart.

Your eyes filling with tears, you didn't want to believe it. Even though the evidence is there, how could you believe it?

Someone who was good to you wouldn't do that, would they?

You've analyzed every damn photo and every damn video, finding out what day some of those things happened.

Uncovering why he made up some excuse not to do something with you

Uncovering that right after you leave, the other one arrives and then you become the laughingstock of the people gathered there.

What an overwhelming feeling to hear those jokes and laughter.

At night you felt exhausted, your eyes burned and your throat hurt from crying, you ignored any messages or calls after that

You didn't want to see or talk to anyone, least of all Rindou.

Unfortunately, your doorbell rang once, twice, three times and you already imagined who it was. Why of all people, did it have to be him? If there was ever a time when he should be away, this would be it.

But you get up, you open the door for him and you don't say anything, he was the only one speaking

You didn't want to listen to him but you needed to put an end to this fake relationship.

He talks, asks questions but you don't answer

How can he be there in your living room, in front of you after everything he's done?

What did you really mean to him? Was everything he told you a lie?

And then you finally speak, you let out all your doubts even though you know the answer will hurt

At first he denies it and then you show him the messages

Then he blames it on the drink, but how could it be the drink's fault if they were together even when Rindou was sober?

And then he confesses, he tries to blame it on you, he tries to make you feel bad. You were nothing more than entertainment for him, you would never be like her.

He tried to blame you but it wasn't your fault, you tried to get along with his friends, you tried to get along with his brother

You tried not to smother him, you didn't want him to feel bad, you have been a good partner.

Yes, you were good, he was the one who didn't deserve you.

Rindou leaves leaving his heart torn

You collapse into tears

You find yourself in a shitty position

You hate him

Dark days and difficult months

You will gradually overcome

There was no more news from him and you really didn't want to know, you blocked him from everything and got rid of his stuff

You are finally moving forward while on the other side things are getting worse.

The person Rindou was seeing cheated on him with some of his friends, the same ones who were laughing at you

Was it worth it?

Was she everything he expected?

She broke up with him a few months after what happened between you two

Rindou was her fun.

He became the joke of his friends

He remembered you and realized the mistake he made, Rindou finally realized how he felt about you and how good you were to him

How ironic

Now he's the one who finds himself in a shitty position.

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whalesforhands · 1 year

Text

cats and cats (satosugu x reader)

warnings: crack(?), fluff, smoking, dedicated to that really old geto cat anon that i never replied to, i wasn’t totally sober when writing this, romance?

“…Shoko, what is that?”

“Cigarettes.” The girl pulls out a stick from the plastic packaging, twirling it in-between her lithe fingers as she patted her pockets for her lighter, her eyebrows furrowing as she struggles in her search for it.

“Ah, I’ve got you.” Your hands produce a lighter from within your blazer’s pocket, light pink with the body being decorated with a character you’ve been obsessing over lately. You flick it, a flame coming to life as you hold it to the cigarette that had now been placed between her lips, getting exceedingly close to her, proximity intimate as she entranced you with her usual lazy gaze and smirk upon her kissab-

A bump against your legs. You ignore it in favour of smiling back at the beautiful girl in front of you.

“I think you should stop smoking so muc-“

Another bump. More insistent this time. Paired with pained mewing and the sound of claws extending from a pair of paws that were desperately trying to get your attention.

You look down, looking the rather large, stark white Maine Coon purring and pawing the length of your skirt as it starts to get your attention in the eye. It’s (?) fur long and fluffy, puffing up even more as it meowed at you, huffy crystalline blue eyes looking annoyed.

Cute.

The black Turkish Angora is by its side, brown eyes shut as it continued rubbing its head against the fabric of your socks, a strand of its fur hanging over the cat’s face, reminiscent of a familiar black-haired sorcerer you knew as it purrs adorably in content.

Extremely cute.

You squat down to your knees, resting on the balls of your feet as you started to pet the two, scratching behind their ears and below their chins as they cuddled deeper into the palm of your hand, licking the skin with their sandpaper tongues and snuggling even closer to you now that they had your undivided attention.

(The white one attempted to get under your skirt. You moved away, punishing it by giving more affection to the black cat, who definitely wasn’t complaining, given the smug look on its face.)

“Shoko-“

“Wanna take care of them?”

“…yea.”

——

Sugu laid upon your lap, furry body stretched across as it lazily went to sleep on top of you, purrs sounding out from his throat as you continued to scratch his head.

Sato sat before you, using a dainty paw to rub at his eyes, squeezing them shut before abruptly opening them, before another paw was hurried pressed to his head.

“Do your eyes hurt?”

He quickly nods his head. (So smart.)

You think for a moment, looking around the room before spotting an extra pair of Satoru’s left behind sunglasses… There’s no way that could work, right?

…but they look so similar, it’s worth a shot.

——

You’re poking at the exposed belly of the white one, the cat laying on its back with his paws in the air, borrowed sunglasses over his eyes when you started prodding at its soft and plushy body.

(You honestly can’t believe the glasses worked.)

It’s purring so loudly, revelling in your touch as you scratched and rubbed at the flattening cat, so satisfied, so happy he looked as if he was starting to melt into the ground.

Such a healthy gait.

“You’re kind of fat, aren’t you, Sato?” An afterthought that had been unwittingly voiced out. “Did your previous owner feed you too much?”

His purring slows to a stop as he gradually realizes the meaning behind your words despite your comfortable pats. A yowl escaping as he jumped onto his paws, turning his long body away from you as he ensured that his fluffy tail smacked into your face, fur obscuring your vision before you hear the angry padding of his feet.

Is he… Pouting?

“Are you upset?” His tail is swishing in the air as you ask him, back still turned to your face as he refuses to meet your gaze, ears flattened against his head as he trots away with angry swishes.

(You’re absolutely losing it internally. So precious…!)

“W-wait, I’m sorry? Don’t go!” You’re holding back your laughs as you tried to coo the mass of fluff back onto the floor or into your arms, the crabby feline having decided to strut away from you, choosing to try and get a sleeping Shoko’s attention by pawing at her hair from her position atop the couch.

“Sato? Don’t bother Shoko, darling…” You try cooing again, staying still as Sugu shifts around in your lap, stretching himself out and yawning as he begins waking up.

Sato is giving you the cold shoulder still. Oh my, how petulant.

You look down at the cat still in your lap. “Looks like it’s just you and me, huh?” It meows back at you as you kiss its head, tucking that peculiar strand of his fur back, only for it to bounce back into place, incessant purring and licking at your hand as he seemed to beg for another one.

“Oh? You like that, huh?” You land another sweet kiss upon his forehead once again only for his paws to hold your lower jaw in place when you try to move away.

“Aww, you’re so cute!” You’re absolutely gushing over him, bombarding this cute little cat with kisses all over his face as he lets out mewls and meows of content within your embrace.

“I can’t believe anyone would ever believe you’d be bad luck.”

The white cat has paused its ministrations on the still asleep Shoko, who had used a lazy hand to shoo the disturbance away. He’s staring at the both of you as the frown on his face seemed to deepen.

(Is this affecting him?)

“Sugu~” You’re kissing all over his face as the black cat stood on his hind legs, toe beans digging into the meat of your thighs with front paws upon your chest as it snuggled his head into your throat, meowing delightedly as you scratched and pet him.

Sato lingered close to you, nudging closer and closer but far away enough whilst acting like snob, turning his cute pink nose up at you everytime he think your eyes are on him.

(He’s just like the actual Satoru…)

You pay him no mind, letting Sugu purr into the valley of your chest, letting him nudge and cuddle into you freely with no restrictions as you stroked his back leaving more gentle pecks on the cat’s closed eyes, plainly ignoring the stubborn Maine Coon.

(You’re not paying attention to him. You’re. Not. Paying. Attention. To. Him! Sugu wasn’t paying attention to him, how could you both not shower him in love?)

He was now brooding in the corner, an aura so gloomy and sad surrounding him as he sat on his haunches, tail drooping and ears flattened against his head at the lack of attention.

He’s absolutely deflated. (But still not giving in.)

Sugu meows up at you, a way to get your attention before he tuts his head to the side, mercy in his actions as he tries to get your attention to his sulking buddy.

You misinterpret him.

“Aww, you wanna cuddle somewhere else?” Your voice had grown so soft, so tender and gentle and lovely as you cooed at him, so distracting and so flustering that he short-circuited, nodding his fluffy head.

“Let’s go to my room, then!”

Sato never got out of his corner so quick, jumping onto his feet as he started running after the both of you, circling your feet in quick circles as he yowled and meowed, sunglasses falling off his face as he placed his front paws on your skirt, eyes begging and pleading and remorseful as you continue to coddle Sugu in your arms.

“Someone finally stopped being grumpy, huh?” You attempt to scoop the second cat up, grunting as you feel both their weights in your arms as you cradled them both like babies, both so abnormally large that their bodies were shrouding you in a mass of fur.

(You could honestly die happy here.)

masterlist KOFI pt.2

Notes:

The lighter was a gift from Shoko.

Guess who named them? You did. The boys were meant to be off on a mission together, and weren’t supposed to be back until next week.

Satoru’s cat form is not overweight. Just really fluffy.

“You’re both cats, aren’t you?” Shoko’s eyes are closed and upturned, a tight smile on her lips as she places a can of wet cat food in front of the feline duo.

“Woogle said that wet cat food was better for dealing with overweight cats.” You murmured under your breath, hand placed under your chin in thought as you watched Sato poke at the meal with a claw.

“But with how much that can was, I really hope the owner quickly finds them soon…”

“Well, boys,” Shoko begins again, her grin growing ever wider as a self-satisfied look made itself home on her face. “You heard her. Wasn’t cheap, and she went allllll the way to the local family mart to buy it for you, ya know?”

“Ah, it wasn’t actually that far-“

“Wouldn’t want to waste her hard work, do we?”

Her stare is pointed at the trembling black cat and disgusted white one, their forms unsteady as they physically gulped at the sight of the slimy can of raw tuna in front of them…

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fluff

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