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pseudowho · 11 days

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Cunt-Drunk

18+, MDNI, just a filthy little drabble...

For @delirious-donna , my Higuruma brainrot muse

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Hiromi didn't often go out with his colleagues. But one week, duty called, and he was obliged to attend karaoke and drinks with his firm's new clients. He was going to be out for hours. It was a Saturday night, and you were off too, and he was absolutely incensed because--

"They said no spouses allowed! Can you believe it?" Hiromi ranted, clattering around the kitchen in a strop, shoving scattered files into his briefcase, "It's almost like they think I'd spend the whole evening talking to you, and squeezing your thighs under the table, and--"

"--well let's be honest, Hiromi, you would--"

"--and who could blame me, really--"

"---Hiromi it's just one night, I won't be doing anything interesting anyway, just go, and have fun, and send me videos of you doing karaoke--"

Hiromi scoffed, clipping his briefcase shut, "I do not do Karaoke."

He stood staring down at you, straight, and tall, and serious for a moment. You bit your lip, barely hiding a smirk. Hiromi slumped dramatically, his face crumpling into a look of abject despair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and nose, head tipped back.

"...do I have to?" He whined. You did not answer. You simply sidled up to him, straightened his tie, and pulled him down by it, pressing a kiss of promise to his lips, so prophetic that he moaned into you.

You whispered against Hiromi's lips; "Off you go, my brave soldier. Have a drink or six for me."

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You worked your way through the usual bottle of Shiraz that you and Hiromi shared on a Saturday night, but, without him there, being drunk just felt sad. You took yourself to bed, in just one of his shirts fished out of the laundry, and fell asleep in the thunk way that only drunk women do.

You woke in the small hours of the morning with a jolt, feeling yourself dragged down the bed by two strong arms looped around your thighs. You squeaked, reaching down and tangling your fingers in a familiar shock of grey-streaked black hair.

"I-- Hiromi--" you started, mumbling and half-asleep. You heard a giggle from between your legs.

"Shhhh," Hiromi slurred, and giggled again. You heard a p-tuu, and felt a glob of warmth, slippery-wet, dripping down your labia. With little warning, Hiromi lathered his tongue between your folds, and you cried out, your body still sizzling with the wine.

"...missed you," Hiromi whined, nuzzling between your puffy folds, "...wanted...to see you...our S'day night...ruined...s'boring without you..."

"--Hiromi--" you panted, dazed and disoriented, "--just come to bed--"

"Shhhhhh," he whispered again, loudly, "m'fine...right here...pull m'hair...jus' hold onto somethin'..."

Hiromi ate your pussy without remorse, without restraint, as drunk as could be, and fucking the bed in his sloppy, rumpled suit. Hiromi moaned, pornographic and dirty, every time he fucked his twitching, aching length against the sheets.

Still suckling your clit between his lips, Hiromi reached down to hook his cock up to press against his belly, his cockhead frictioned deliciously between his black happy trail and waistband.

You had never been eaten out in a way that was so primal, with Hiromi fucking his tongue into your heat, massaging the area around your clit with his liquor-soaked lips, and rolling his tongue over the hard little pearl of your clit until you almost blacked out, your nerves stripped bare by the shock and wine.

Hiromi was rough, looping his arms over your thighs and dragging you back to his mouth every time you mewled and tried to crawl away from him. He'd respond with a sharp nip to the inside of your thigh, and an admonishing look, before rubbing his face savagely from side to side over your sopping cunt and clit, growling into the wet mess he'd made of you.

As you squirmed and yanked the roots of his hair, clamping your thighs around his head, Hiromi mumbled into your pussy, focusing his tongue and lips on your clit before abruptly sliding three bunched, long fingers into your hole, fucking you hard and fast with them until he felt your silky sweet spot.

Hiromi fucked the bed in time, imagining in his drunken stupor, that the wet squelches and frantic cries from you, were from his cock slamming in and out of you instead.

"--c'mon baby...in m'mouf, cum in m'mouf...good girl, so good, s'good...gonna cum...m'gonna cum...fuuuuckkk, shit--"

Dragging you with biting, sucking, growling urgency through your orgasm, Hiromi came in tandem; his ruts into the mattress, and his pitched, desperate moans became slower, and softer, as his seed poured out under his shirt, soaking the white fabric, sticky and cloying against his twitching belly.

His fingers still inside you, his nose and mouth still between your folds, face-down on the bed as you came down from your absolutely feral high...you heard a snore.

Rising on shaking elbows, you looked down the bed. Cum-soaked, drunk, and sticky with your arousal, Hiromi snored soft, drunk snores into your pussy.

In the morning, you showed him the photo you took of him, this way, before watching the video Hiromi's colleague sent you of him singing old rock songs while the whole karaoke bar cheered him on.

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circlebuttons · 7 months

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“No outside clothes on my bed” - Rafe Cameron

ExBf! Rafe Cameron x Gender-neutral! reader

Your ex shows up drunk at your door

warnings: mentions of relapse in sobriety, mentions of c0k3 use, mentions of drinking, explicit language

800 words - short fic

You were meant to stay far far away from your ex Rafe Cameron but when he's drunk at your door can you really turn him away?

You let him lean over you as you usher him towards your room, shushing him to hopefully keep your roommate asleep, and unknowing that you opened the door for your ex that you told her all about over a bottle of wine.

Once in your room you lay him down on the floor and take pillows off of your bed to keep him propped up on his side. You go to offer him a blanket, but his eyes are half closed as he begins to pout. It was endearing how he'd act all pouty and clingy while y'all were together, but just irritating now that he's your ex.

Somehow through that irritation your old feelings for Rafe were clawing at your insides. You harshly made him sleep away from you, but you still positioned yourself to where you could monitor him. You'd always worry about him dating or not.

You stare up at the ceiling, hoping to just try your best to get through the night as contradicting emotions pulse through your body and Rafe's presence making itself more than well known, even more so when he breaks the silence, "Can I sleep with you?" he asks, voice quiet and timid.

How could you possibly say no to him when he's in such a vulnerable state? Right? Instead you let that vulnerability fuel rejection, you can reason with yourself that he's not in his right mind, and that you need stay as far away from him as possible. "No outside clothes on my bed, you know that."

He doesn't respond right away and instead you hear him start to breathe unevenly with the occasional sniffle. You shoot up and look over at the ground, his back is facing towards you, "Rafe are you crying?" you whisper yell at him in shock.

"I'm so sorry. I'm drunk" he tries to whisper, holding back his tears, trying to hold onto any dignity he can be conscious of.

"I know" You sigh heavily and throw yourself back against your bed.

“And I'm in love with you” he mumbles quietly.

His words make you flinch, “Do not.”

“I miss you, I miss you so much, I'm miserable” his voice shakes and you shut your eyes to make his words hurt less.

“You broke up with me.” And you know why he did it too, the night he relapsed on coke he called you in a panic and confessed. You couldn’t even get a word in before he broke things off, assuming you were going to do it anyways. He was right to assume that you’d be upset about his relapse, but you didn’t know in what world he thought that you’d dump him at a low like that. You wanted to be there for him, you were going to be there for him, and he unknowingly pushed you away.

“I'm fucking stupid” he slurs out and begins to incoherently ramble.

“Get some sleep Rafe” you cut him off worried he’s about to choke on his tongue.

“I thought you’d hate me” he quietly whimpers, “That why I’m sober again” he breathes in a ragged breath before finishing his sentence “But I did drink tonight”

“I know you drank” You want to laugh at his obvious drunk confession, but instead make a confession of your own, “But I am proud of you for being clean again, always have been proud” Sarah and Rafe’s friends who grew close to you often updated you on how he was doing, so you already knew he had been strongly sober although going through the motions of grieving your relationship. His ego made him think sobriety would be linear, but you knew statistically he’d relapse and you were still genuinely proud of him.

“That’s all I wanted” his sad voice and new admission tugs at your heartstrings. All he wanted was just for someone to be proud of him, Rafe Cameron had been failed by everyone and was trying to pick up all the pieces by himself.

"Get in" You can see him sit up out of your peripheral vision, and he hesitates almost as if he thinks you’re joking. You lift up the comforter, making space for him and in almost an instant he’s in your bed hugging your waist with his head in your chest. His breathing slows down a lot more than before, but you can feel his tears soak into your top. They’re hot like his body, heated by the the alcohol in his system. You can feel him lift his head, but you just close your eyes, and rub circles into his back the way he loved “Well talk in the morning”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe angst #gender neutral reader #ex boyfriend #crybabyrafe #obx #softrafe #cw relapse #fluffifyousquint

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am-i-obsessed---maybe · 5 months

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Dark Glasses - Crowley x Reader (Platonic)

Sooooo, Nanowrimo was a bust, but you know what that means?

We're back with the fanfiction train! Choo Choo!

also reminder that requests are open! (just check out my guidelines first)

Wordcount: 1.9k

Summery: Friends support friends even when your friend is actually a demon but especially when your demon friend just got shot down by his long time angel crush.

The same man has been coming to your bar since you started working there five years ago. The other bartenders told you he's been around since you opened 20 years ago, he never gives his name and comes in with dark glasses no matter what time of day it is or whether the sun is out or not. Although unlike most regulars he doesn't have a specific drink he always orders. Sometimes it’s a rum and coke, sometimes he goes for a more classy bottle of wine, sometimes he'll even order a straight shot of liquor but he always tips well.

You call him 'Dark Glasses'. You could have called him redhead seeing as his hair was the most vibrant red you'd ever seen. There was no way it was natural but that wouldn't be fair to him. Some people can get very touchy about red hair.

Instead you called him dark glasses.

Dark Glasses came into your bar one day, sauntering over in the late afternoon, not an unnatural occurrence. The bar was basically empty with the exception of two friends that got a head start on the night's drinking.

Dark Glasses sat down and you could feel the loss and pain flowing off of him, not like how you can tell with people. It wasn't his expression or body language that gave you the impression though, it was as if you felt his emotions. As if they were ebbing off of him.

"Give me whatever's strongest" He said and you nodded, something told you he needed to drown out his sorrows.

“One bone dry martini coming right up” you said.

As you mixed his drink you periodically looked over at him, the poor guy was thrown over the bar as if it was the only thing keeping him from crying.

You walked over to him and handed him the drink.

"There you go sir" You said and he perked up only slightly, took the glass from you and downed the entire thing in one go.

"I'll need another one" He said, pushing the glass back in your direction.

You stared at him, "That, that was a glass of straight vodka. three shots of vodka." You said, stunned.

"I thought you said this was a martini" The man mumbled.

"Yes, the glass is coated in a little bit of vermouth, that's what makes it so dry... You just downed three shots of vodka like it was nothing" You said.

"Got a high tolerance, now can I get another one please?" He asked and honestly you were a bit too stunned to say no.

After two more though you knew he was done. Normal people, even those with a high tolerance like he apparently has can't drink more than 6 shots of vodka without getting drunk and he was drunk.

Mind you, not the fun kind he normally is. You're familiar with Dark Glasses when he's drunk. He slurs and gets very bold and flirty as well as clumsy, though not touchy which always surprised you. Now though, now was different. Now he was a sad drunk. Moping all around the bar. He could barely walk, instead he swayed from side to side and his flirting, something you could usually count on to raise your spirits, became lowley grumbling.

"I think that's enough" You said, taking what little remained of his third glass and pouring it out.

"What? No! I'm fine" He tried to say but struggled with the last word.

"No, you're drunk. You can stick around but the only thing you're getting is water" You told him and he made a face that almost looked like a snake trying to give puppy dog eyes.

"Come on Y/N, you know me, I can handle anything" He said, pulling you by the sleeve over the bar.

He's never initiated contact like that before. Not with anyone.

"Alright, that's enough. Go home" You told him and he deflated.

"Can't," He said.

"What do you mean can't?" You asked.

He had a home. He'd told you about it. A nice flat in mayfair with lots of plants.

"Can't. Don't live there anymore" He said and you looked genuinely surprised. Is that what has him so down in the dumps? Was he evicted? Did the bank repossess his apartment?

"What about that bookseller friend of yours in Soho? Can't you stay with him?" You asked and he shook his head.

"He's gone. He went to heaven" Dark Glasses said.

"Oh I'm so sorry" You said, maybe that was why he was so down.

"How about this, I finish my shift in a couple hours, you can crash on my couch" You told him. You'd never have said this to anyone else but you knew Dark Glasses. You knew he was sweet though he hated when someone pointed it out and you knew he needed help.

"You would do that for me?" He asked and you smiled.

"What can I say, you tip really well" You joked and managed to get a chuckle out of him before he went back to moping.

A few hours later He was leaning on you as you walked him out of the bar. Somehow still just as drunk as when you'd taken away his last drink.

"Wait, wait, wait, how are we going to your place?" He asked.

"Car" you said. He wasn't heavy but keeping him walking in a somewhat straight line out was difficult.

"My car?" He asked.

"No. You are not driving. My car" You told him and led him over to where your slightly beat up old car was parked.

"Now come on, in you go" You said, trying to help him in. It took a minute but he managed to shimmy in comfortably enough for someone with very little control of their extremities.

"I don't like this car" He complained.

"Too bad" you told him, got in and drove off.

"Why are you helping me? You're never this nice" He slurred.

"You're never this mopey" You retorted.

"Yeah but, but..." He trailed off.

"We're almost there just don't fall asleep the last thing I need is to try to drag you up to my place" You said and he nodded.

"Don't worry, I won't, I can sober up whenever I want" He said and you shook his head. Sometimes Dark Glasses said the craziest things when he was drunk. Sometimes he'd say them when he wasn't drunk but that was neither here nor there.

You eased him through the door to your flat and he smiled.

"You have plants, very nice Y/N" He said and you smiled.

"Thank you now you go sit down before you collapse all over my floor" You told him and he did as he was told, sitting down and then sprawling himself over your couch.

"He used to do this too, when I was too drunk, he'd bring me in and tell me to sit" he slurred and you turned to him, confused.

"Who?" You asked.

“My angel” Dark Glasses said. You came over to him with a glass of water.

"It's hard, when someone dies. Grief is a powerful thing" You told him and he shrugged.

"I wouldn't know" he said, slurping down the contents of the cup.

"Just sleep. You'll feel better in the morning" you told him, spreading a blanket over him and placing the cup on the coffee table.

"Try to make it to the toilet if you puke" You told him and went to bed yourself.

Crowley had never been hungover. He'd always sober up before it got to that point but this time he didn't. Even the thought of sobering up made him think of his drinking sessions with Aziraphale.

But Aziraphale left. He went to heaven and left Crowley to drown out his sorrows the human way.

The first thing you woke up to was the loud sound of someone vomiting.

"Please god let him have made it to the toilet" You said to yourself, throwing off the blacket and going to check on your mysterious guest.

She must have thought it would be funnier to scare you because Crowley in fact made it to the toilet. Luckily.

Crowley was practically puking his life out, once it was all out, at least for now, he heaved.

"How do humans do this?" He asked. He had half a mind to miracle it all away.

"With years of practice" You said, making your presence known.

"Ahhh!" He shouted, falling back on his butt only to rub at his head and groan, "Ugh". Now everything hurt even more than before.

He still had his sunglasses on, though the bathroom lights were off and the sun hadn’t even come up yet.

"I always thought you were pretty strange but now I'm starting to wonder if you're sane at all" You said.

"If you're worried I'll go crazy and attack you, you needn't be." He said quietly and you rolled your eyes.

"As if you could with the way you are right now, you look like you've been dragged through hell" You said and Crowley looked back down at the toilet.

"Oh you have no idea" He said.

At this point he was simply sitting criss-crossed in front of the toilet so you sat down on the bathroom floor next to him. Checking the time, it had only been a few hours.

"I know you've gotten drunk before, have you seriously never been hungover?" You asked.

"Never" He said.

"I don't think I believe you" You said.

“Well it’s the truth” He said.

“You are one strange specimen Glasses” You said.

“Glasses?” He asked.

“Oh, um, you never told any of us at the bar what your name was so we just called you Dark Glasses… cause you’re always wearing your dark—”

“Yeah I get it” He said. “It’s Crowley by the way”

“That’s quite the original name” You said.

“Used to be Crawley but that was a bit too” He made a hissing noise with his tongue and you noticed it was thin and split, like a snake’s.

“You know sometimes I wonder if you’re even human with all the strange shit that comes out of your mouth” You joked and Crowley laughed and then smirked.

“You wanna know a secret?” He asked.

You looked at him skeptically. “Do I?” You asked.

He shrugged, “It’s up to you really” He said.

“Then, yeah I guess”

“I’m a demon” He said.

You chuckled.

He didn’t laugh.

“No”

“Yes”

“I was the serpent of eden” He said, smiling.

“That’s not– no… cause that would mean that god” He nodded, “And satan” He nodded again.

“The world almost ended four years ago” He says. It’s almost as if seeing your reaction is helping him get his spirits back.

“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and move on!”

…

“How come it didn’t?” You asked.

“We convinced the antichrist that the earth was actually pretty nice” He said.

“We?” You asked.

“Aziraphale… and I” He said, his voice dwindling.

“He’s that bookseller friend of yours right?” You asked and Crowley nodded.

“He’s the one that died, I’m so sorry Crowley” You said, putting a comforting hand on Crowley’s shoulder.

“He didn’t die.” Crowley said.

You looked at him, “But you said he went to heaven” “He’s an angel, my angel” Crowley said, his voice wasn’t a white, it was more just, sad and full of grief.

“He went off to become the new supreme archangel of all of heaven” Crowley said, this time he was in fact whining.

“Well then, he could come back” You said but Crowley shook his head.

“Not after he said he forgave me” He said.

“Forgave you for what?” “Kissing him,” Crowley said sorrowfully.

Oh.

“I’ll go get us both some wine” You said.

#good omens x reader #crowley x reader #gn reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #good omens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #platonic reader insert #good omens crowley x reader

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renadactyl · 4 months

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𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕪 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕪𝕝 (ℝ𝕖𝕟/𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕞) (𝕙𝕖/𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪/𝕚𝕥)

𝔻𝕚𝕝𝕦𝕔 𝕩 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℕ𝕖𝕦𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕝!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

“𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕪 𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕪 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕥”

𝕋𝕎: 𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕞, 𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥��

Description: Two lovers in a bar, some juice, and a bard with… archons know how many bottles. Just a bit of tame fluff with a bit of comfort.

When the redheaded man sat down in his own tavern, curios to see who the new bartender Luka kept mentioning was, he didn't expect to see you, the one and only love of his life, serving a drink to a drunk bard.

"No wonder no one else has figured out yet that you're the almighty Lord Barbatos," you groaned as you placed a large glass of wine in front of him. "Enjoy your ninteenth glass of the night, bard."

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Venti replied with his trademark cheeky grin, hiccuping as he reached for the glass.

Diluc interjected, “shouldn’t you have cut him off by now?”

Your head darted up, your eyes meeting. "Oh, Master Diluc! Sorry, I didn't see you coming in. Do you want anything to drink?"

"Please, just call me Diluc," he responded with a warm smile, "and I'll get one Grey Valley Sunset, if you don't mind?"

"Sure," you shouted at him, getting the list of recipes out before turning back to the bard. "Just... gimme a second. I'm still getting the hang of things around here."

Diluc replied, "oh, don't worry. That's fine with me." He then hesitated before asking, "but really... how is Venti going to pay for all that?"

You shyly chuckled, embarrassed as you admitted, "he said he'd give you back the bottles of wine he stole from Dawn Winery yesterday and play a song for me if I treated him to a couple glasses of wine on the house."

Diluc scowled as he turned to the bard, glaring at him. "He did what?"

"It was only thirteen bottles..." Venti exclaimed, raising his glass up and waving it around as he defended himself, hiccuping all the while. Then he paused for a second as confusion flashed over his eyes. "Or maybe it was fourteen..."

"Oh great arch-" you groaned before stopping yourself. "Actually, I take that back. I wouldn't classify this round-faced drunkard as 'great'."

"Hey," Venti shouted, "you take that back right now, or I'll… I’ll…" His words were all slurred and broken up intermittently by drunken hiccups. He looked like he was about to faint as he started finishing the glass.

Diluc scrunched his face up and sighed, "you don't have to do this for me, (Y/N). I'll find a way to get those bottles back wherever he hid them, trust me."

"No, it's alright. It has already been done, there's no going back now," you replied with a sigh as you started walking up to Diluc with his order.

"Thanks, (Y/N)," he muttered as a small smile spread across his face.

"Don't mention it," you replied before chuckling, "it is my job after all."

Diluc began, "well then tha-"

Suddenly, a large thump echoed through the tavern. In an instant, both Diluc and you casted a glance towards Venti, who was now slumped over on the table and snoring peacefully.

"You really should've cut him off," Diluc muttered before letting out a load groan of chagrin.

"Yeah," you gulped, "I really should've..."

As you walked back to assist the passed-out bard, Diluc grabbed the Grey Valley Sunset drink and took slow yet generous sips of the juice.

You asked, "is the drink alright? I think this might be my first time making it. Almost everyone who's come to this tavern so far wanted some drink with alcohol. The only people that asked me for a cup of tea and coffee so far was actually Lisa and Jean."

"I'm not surprised," Diluc answered, "most Mondstatians do have quite the obsession with alcohol."

"After today, I finally understand why Diona is so persistent with her goal of making the worst alcoholic drink ever," you laughed, "this town needs to take control over their obsession with wine some day."

In response, Diluc let out a rare, deep chuckle before taking another sip of juice.

After a small, comfortable silence you spoke up. "So... you haven't answered my previous question yet. Am I really that bad?"

"Oh," Diluc exclaimed, coughing as he tried to quickly respond despite the fact that he was currently taking a sip of the juice. "No, of course not. It's quite good. Actually, it gives me a lot of nostalgia."

"Nostalgia?" You asked, walking up to him after finishing cleaning up the empty glasses of wine Venti was drinking from, skillfully moving around the bard as he snored against the table, arms sprawled out and drool dribbling against the wood. "How so?"

Diluc gazed out into space as if remembering some long-forgotten memory. "Believe it or not," he answered, "the first drink I ever made was a glass of Grey Valley Sunset."

"No way," you gasped, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting in it. His eyes quickly darted towards you as you asked, "seriously? Why did you make that despite all the other things you could've made?"

"Well," he sighed before quickly sipping the last of the drink, "no reason, really. My father was shocked too, actually. I was just remembering him. That's why I was feeling nostalgic."

"Oh," you replied, realizing you might've made him remember a painful memory. "Sorry about that."

"No, you don't have to say sorry," Diluc quickly exclaimed, "you didn't intend to do absolutely anything wrong. After all, I like remembering the good memories about him." He then let out a large sigh. "I just still miss him..."

"I know," you said. You gave him a comforting smile before rubbing his hand softly.

"Thanks for the consideration though." Diluc lightly smiled back. "It means a lot."

"And thank you for being in my life," you responded.

Those words took Diluc’s breath away for the quickest of seconds. For once, he felt unable to respond properly or make some witty remark.

"I don't know what to say to that," Diluc stated as he got up out of his chair, causing you to step back. "But I do know that that bard needs help.” As he spoke, he pointed towards Venti, who was beginning to fall off the table by now, mumbling in his deep drunken slumber. “We should take him back to Dawn Winery."

You nodded your head and laughed as Diluc and you walked back to Venti's sleeping figure. He helped you lift him up and wrapped Venti's arms around both of your shoulders before you two managed to drag the bard out of the tavern.

"By the way," Diluc began, causing you to stop walking as he gazed at you thoughtfully. "If there's anyone to thank for being in my life, it's you. I've never met anyone as kind and caring as you before, so I truly thank you for that. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin diluc #fanfic #fluff #genshin fluff #gender neutral reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc x gn reader

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darksiders-junkie · 10 months

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Good evening friend! I've had a bit to drink while replaying Darksiders 2 and have been wondering if death would be fun to drink with. Thoughts? I figure Strife would be hella fun at first then if he overdoes it he'd get a bit maudlin. Feel free to add on for other characters if you want to!

Appreciate your contribution to this teeny fandom! *Toasts you with drink of choice* ❤️

Sure thing! I'm actually going to do them all :))

War

He is not fun to drink with. Man has one drink and calls it a night. He doesn't like alcohol, and he hates feeling tipsy. It makes him feel like he's not in control of his own body.

If you do manage to get him to drink more, I'd suggest drinking at home. He loosens up and becomes way more talkative and he won't be happy if other people (strangers at that) saw him like that.

And when he becomes more talkative its really all slurred and jumbled together, you have to get him to announciate his words to try and understand him.

At the end of the night, you can bet he's throwing up and passing out on the floor. And since you wouldn't be able to move him, well just put a pillow under his head and drap a blanket over him. He'll be fine.

He wakes up to the biggest migraine ever, and will proceed to be 10x grumpy and scowly until it has passed. So make sure to give him plenty of water, migraine meds, and a big old greasy breakfast in the morning.

Death

He usually tries to avoid alcohol all together. You'll find he'll have a glass of wine for the silly human holidays you enjoy so much, but other than that he doesn't drink.

If you do manage to get him to drink, well you're questioning if he's been dumping out his glass while you weren't looking. He's hardly changed at all!

But no, he most certainly has been drinking it due to your wishes. He's just really good at seeming not drunk.

You can only tell with the slightest of slurred words, and the fact that there is no more bite in his tongue. He may sway slightly while walking, but it'd be hard to tell if you were also drunk.

At the end of the night he'll take a shower and brush his teeth (about time), to get rid of the alcohol smell. He'll pop into your room to make sure you made it to bed alright before finding his way to hiw own room. And if you do share a bedroom, then he'll crawl in behind you and be unusually a bit more cuddling than normal.

He'll be up way before you in the morning, having left some water and meds by your bed and being down stairs cooking up breakfast for the two of you.

Strife

He is hell of fun to drink with, in the beginning that is.

He'll laugh, crack jokes, and even nudge you when you aren't taking a sip. A real partier, so even if it's just the two of you, he fully expects you to yell "Chug Chug Chug" as he downs his glasses. Of course, he'll do the same if you decide to chug.

But eventually he'll flip on a dime and just start crying. It's the worst because there is no warning either. Just

"I'm the bestest friend/partner in the whole world right?"

"Do you love me (Y/n)? Because I love youuuu! Tell me you love meeeee!"

And he's also very clingy. He'll literally hang off you, quickly remind him that you are infact human or otherwise you'll end op on the floor with him.

To avoid this, either head to bed early so he'll do the same, or take him out drinking. If he's around people he won't be like that. Although the car ride home (either by uber or the other siblings. Uber definitely prefered if you dont want to hear a screaming match between siblings) would be a different story, but at least you got to have a longer time to have fun.

Although if you tuck him in, and even as his friend cuddle him through the night, he'll be less of a whiny bitch.

In the morning, he'll most definitely be sluggish and whiny. Keep him away from his siblings because they don't tolerate that shit no more lmfao. Make sure your Strife has plenty of water and meds, and order him food.

Fury

She'll often have a few drinks to get tipsy, but will stop drinking at that point. She doesn't enjoy the hangovers in the morning, and she's often been told she's a raging drunk.

She'll never turn that rage onto you. She thinks you're far too soft and pitiful to do that. No, instead, you'll find her screaming at the wall she accidentally bumped into for 10 minutes straight.

Or trying to pick fights with people, so I suggest keeping her away from her siblings at this time. She won't pick fights with humans though, but I still suggest staying away from bars as she will still find something to scream at. (Like the TV. Everyone is screaming about the silly game, why can't she?)

At the end of the night she will definitely soften some more, and make her way to her own bed. She will not give two fucks if you make it to your bed, unless you share a bed.

In the morning she'll be awfully quiet and just cluching her head at the table. Don't dare to comment on it, just give her some meds and water. You can try feeding her but she'll just push it away.

#darksiders fury #darksiders strife #darksiders death #darksiders war #darksiders #darksiders x reader

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always-andromeda · 1 year

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Drunk on Halloween || Calvin Weir-Fields x Fem!Reader

Calvin Weir Fields x Fem!Reader

Word Count || 3,195

Summary || Calvin is aching for one night of peace; a bottle of wine, a cheesy horror movie, and the love of his life. However, some trick-or-treaters have different plans in mind.

Author’s Note || can you guys tell that I'm a Calvin apologist with this one? can you guys tell that even though I think he can be toxic as fuck, I'd sell my left nipple for a dime to have him just for a night? am I writing this note at four in the morning and that's why it's so unhinged? mind your own business, perhaps.

Warnings || smut (minors, do not interact or I will dip you into an ooky spooky vat of acid <3), thigh riding, slight use of pet names (Calvin calls the reader a good girl like twice lol), Calvin is an uptight little freak, reader is just in for a good time (good for her), nothing else I can think of!!

"Work all night on a drink of rum, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

Calvin pulls away from your neck, nearly breathless, "Are you really going to do that?"

You continue singing quietly but dramatically from underneath him, "Stack banana 'til the mornin' come, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

"Are you kidding me?" He groans.

"Come Mister Tally Man, tally me banana, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

Hair flopping forward, Calvin's head tips downward, mere millimeters from being buried in your chest, "Wow. You're really committing to this."

You giggle at his expense, "It's not my fault you decided to start something right before the dinner scene."

With nearly every night having been a movie night, you'd waited for something like this. However, you knew that tonight was likely that night as soon as Calvin pulled out a bottle of red wine, insisting that he bring some modicum of culture to the table. A few glasses later and all he'd manifested was a heavy haze that came to smother both of your lazily lounging figures.

Calvin says in disbelief, "I've never seen this before, how was I supposed to know what this scene would turn you into?"

"You should know because you know me, Cal." you slur.

He sounds even more tired than he really is when he replies, "I doubt that more and more with each passing day." Then he shakes his head as if he's actually upset. Your lighthearted demeanor dulls.

Voice softening, your hand rests on his cheek, "Hey, why does it matter? We're having fun, right?"

Calvin watches your eyes go wide, staring at him wearily. It reminds him a little of how his mother would look at him when he was upset. Like he was a child who'd thrown a fit. The next thing he was expecting out of your mouth was something akin to, "There, there, Calvin. It's okay." He can't tell if that annoys or comforts him.

"I guess..." he sighs.

You ask, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The cogs in Calvin's head turn as he tries to figure out exactly what had ruffled him so much. You never let him get away with passive aggression. He's not even sure why he does it in the first place; there's something that tells him there's no chance that anyone would even care why he was frustrated. So why should he bother to even try verbalizing it?

Your dumb runs over his cheekbone, "Cal, what's wrong?"

He begins shakily, "You know...I like when things go to plan..."

Your tone is laced with a little giggle, "So you were just planning to fuck me ahead of time? Is that how all of our sexual encounters go?"

"Don't call it that."

Your smile turns into a full grin as you stare incredulously, "What? Fucking? You mean what we've been doing for months?"

Immediately clamming up, Calvin replies, "It's just...it's not romantic when you say it like that."

You laugh, "Ah, because having sex while drunk on your couch is peak romance." Calvin watches your finger slide down the bumped bridge of his nose before you tap the tip.

Something in the teasing action makes him lighten. Maybe it's the fact that he swears he saw you wink afterwards. Or maybe it was the way the light from the television and the shadows of the darkness twisting and tricking his imagination. Or maybe he's just sick of worrying; maybe he's finally hit the threshold between his nervousness and his want.

He mumbles, "It could be."

You scoff, "You're so silly."

"Says the one who wanted to put me in fishnets and a corset." He reminds you of the conversation that took place during one of your previous Halloween movie nights. The film: Rocky Horror Picture Show. You had laughed while comparing him to the hero of the film, teasing him with breathy repetitions of the line, "Oh, Brad." He'd scowled and rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered every time he heard it. It reminded him far too much of other sounds he'd heard you say.

"I stand by the fact that you were made to be Brad." You add daringly, "And I think you would've looked super hot in them. I probably would've gotten undressed half an hour ago if you looked like that." Then you looked at him; eyelids at half mast and finger running down one of his arms bracing the weight of his body over you. His skin shivers at the languid movements. He wishes he wasn't wearing a damned sweater so he could feel the soft drag of your nails.

He hears the resigned lyric of Brad Majors ring in his skull, Damn it, Janet. I love you.

Without a second thought he dives back in, delivering a swift kiss that quickly turns more fervent as he tastes more of the dark red wine from earlier. Or maybe the taste is on his own taste buds. He's not entirely sure and he's far too lost in the moment to really differentiate the flavors. All he knows is that the view of you beneath him is alluring and convincing him that his timing is auspicious. Your fingers tangle in his hair, bringing him impossibly closer to you.

He moans right as the song playing ends and breathes, "Can I touch you?"

Though you hear his desperate question just fine, you decide to taunt him a little bit more. "Huh?"

Calvin demonstrates an unusual level of assertion when he fishes around the top the couch and grabs the remote, mashing a button to lower the volume of the television until the movie was almost completely silenced.

You can now hear his khaki covered knee slide up the upholstery of the couch, slow as it eases comfortably between your own legs and presses just slightly against you. It's just enough pressure on your clit that you begin to ache for more. More movement. More warmth. More tension. He's close enough that you can practically see yourself coming down from your high already. Then Calvin repeats himself, rewording the question to reflect his insistence.

"I want to touch you."

You don't dare laugh now. You're too busy teetering on the edge of something big, you can taste it in the back of your throat.

"Please," you croak.

No matter how indifferent he can come off at times, Calvin can't be cruel to you. Instead, he's immensely satisfied with himself as he kisses you again, allowing his tongue to slip between your own lips. He takes as much as he wants and gives just a little more, allowing you some purchase from the heady tease of his knee grinding a little further against your pussy.

Wrenching away from the kiss, you regress into a pleading, mewling tangle of arousal, "Calvin, please-- please just let me...let me--"

His low voice bites you in an almost fatal way. "Let you what? Let you fuck yourself on my leg?"

You like the way the curse leaves his lips. Somehow, a man like Calvin can make the most vulgar words sound poetic even as he practically spits them at you. It makes more heat pool between your legs. It makes you fucking whimper for him. This is a rare form for both of you.

With you regurgitating the same cry of, "Please, Calvin, please..." He lets out his own chuckle.

"I'll let you move soon." He promises, "I just want to touch you first."

Calvin stays true to his word, anchoring a hand on your hip, rubbing circles with his thumb on your hip bone. Your sweater had begun to ride up your torso, exposing your soft stomach and the underside of your chest. Calvin lips curl at the sight of the pumpkin patterned sweater than matched his own. The idea of getting matching holiday sweaters had sounded terribly romantic; something he's sure he'd read in some romance novel as a teenager and simply filed it away in his subconscious. Now he finds his head filling with less than romantic thoughts as his fingers graze the hem of the brown, knitted garment and he realizes that underneath the silly sweater, you're not wearing a bra.

His hand wanders, caressing your side until it disappears entirely underneath the sweater. Cold fingers brush against your ribs and your breath hitches. With the television turned down, Calvin hears it and attempts to amend it by bringing his mouth to your jaw, peppering imprecise, open mouthed kisses along it until he reaches your ear.

He whispers that you're pretty. So pretty as you gasp when his hand finally reaches one of your rounded breasts. He wastes no time focusing on the nipple, swiping his thumb over it carefully. And there it is again: the want that is just dying to keep building. It leaves your clit feeling like it's been set on fire. Another string of miserable pleas leave your lips as you turn your head to the side.

You stare at the television screen now, watching as the titular Beetlejuice torments Lydia's father. Despite the volume being turned all the way down, you know the line that comes out of his mouth. But, even then, you don't have it in you to utter, "We've come for your daughter, Chuck." because fuck, you need to come first.

Calvin takes a hold of your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently turning your head back to stare into his eyes, blown out and glassy just from feeling your skin. Your breath is raggedly trailing through your burning lungs.

Pitying you just enough, Calvin grants you the permission you've been waiting for. "You can move now." He says simply, as if he isn't just as worked up as you are. As if he isn't just waiting for you to ruin his pants; as if he isn't already preparing himself for the gloating he'll get to do when he does laundry tomorrow.

You respond eagerly but not to get too ahead of yourself, not wanting to unravel the knot inside you too quickly. You rock against his knee with smooth, unwaveringly slow motions. Calvin notices your restraint and lets praise drip from his tongue like raw honey, "Good girl...good girl."

The pet name sounds marginally awkward coming from him, but you're too far gone to second guess it. You let it spur you on even more when your thigh brushes against his erection. Based on how solid it is, you can't even imagine how much control it's taking him to hold back from letting himself get off. And a part of you is proud that just the feeling of your supple skin under his palms and your breathy cries were enough to get him that good. So you offer him a little relief by pulling him down on you, giving your thigh more of a chance to graze him fully.

Beautifully, Calvin groans shakily at the friction. Though it doesn't compare to being inside of you in the slightest, the mere movements are just enough to begin brewing his own climax.

Before too long, you're a tangled mess, hopelessly humping against each other on the couch, the movie long forgotten as you both aim to reach your releases. It only serves to provide mood lighting that flashes against your faces, illuminating how Calvin's expression contorts gracefully with the pleasure. He squeezes your breast with every restricted stroke against your thigh, making you whimper. It's a slurry of heaving chests, uneven breaths, and messily placed kisses and you both inch closer and closer to the end.

You're ascending the final hill, seconds away from the peak. Every time your clothed clit brushes against his knee, you feel your climax slowly and steadily clicking continually, just about to slot right into place when--

"Happy Halloween, Calvin Weird-Fields!" you manage to hear the yell faintly through your lust filled haze. You try to ignore it and continue rutting against him. But Calvin's hand leaves the confines of your sweater, hastily pulling it down over your torso before scrambling off of you. Your climax careens backwards down the hill, leaving you high and dry and ready to tear your hair out.

"Wait--" you barely have a chance to get an extra word in when he sits up.

He raises a finger quickly, shushing you.

Then you hear it again, a similar voice screaming from outside, "Yeah, happy fucking Halloween, Weird-Fields!"

"You've got to be kidding me. Not again." Calvin groans to himself before clambers away to his front door, barely having enough of a grip on himself to smooth his hair back. With the movie and you and the swiftly fading arousal fading, the tension returns to his shoulders, promptly weighing him down.

By the time he gets out the door, the teenagers have gotten back on their bicycles. They pull Halloween masks back over their faces and have already begun to ride back down the hill. At the risk of sounding too much like his late father, Calvin holds back the urge to yell obscenities back at them. He can't even think of the words to accurately express his anger anyways.

He just turns back, staring at the stark white stucco of his two story home, now adorned with garlands of toilet paper. Right then, you emerge from the entrance, following him out to the little concrete sidewalk at the front of his home and looking at the damage. This time, the one thing keeping you from chuckling at the sight is the outrage clearly radiating from your boyfriend.

Calvin reaches up, only just tall enough to reach a strand that hangs down. Though he tugs on it gently, it rips off quickly, leaving him with two and a half pitiful squares of toilet paper in his grasp.

His voice wobbles with frustration, "Are you-- you've gotta be kidding me." He jumps a little this time, reaching for the same sheet as it flutters in the wind, pulling off yet another few squares that he crumples in his trembling fist.

You watch him begin to breathe heavily, his lip quivering as he only works himself up more and more.

You reach out to lay a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, honey, stop..." but that doesn't quite catch his attention. You repeat firmly, "Calvin, stop."

He whips around and shoots you a venomous reply, "What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?"

"I don't know. Can't you pay someone to come out and clean it up?" A guy as wealthy and with as many connections as he did had to know someone who would be willing to take care of the mess.

"How the fuck am I going to get someone out here tonight?" he continues to rant, "Why the fuck are those kids even allowed to be out after dark?

You raise your voice, "Calvin!"

"What?" he snaps.

"You don't need to worry about this right now. Why don't we just go back inside and--"

"What's the point?" he laughs dejectedly, "The night's already ruined anyways."

"It isn't ruined." you insist.

"Yes, it is. They fucked it up and I fucked it up even more and fuck it's all just fucking fucked." His tone only gets more irritated as he rambles on, dropping the crumpled toilet paper squares to the concrete and running his quivering hand through his hair once more.

This hadn't been the first time those teenagers had done something like this. It started with them leaving empty beer bottles on his sidewalk after drunkenly laughing on his porch all night. Calvin had heard the antics of course, but had been too hesitant to do anything. He just hoped they'd go away. So he simply recycled the bottle and thought that was the last of it. But they were spoiled rich kids that lived in the hills and were determined to make the pretentious author's life a living hell.

The last incident, weeks before this, had almost been the straw that broke the camel's back. They'd managed to get their hands on a copy of one of his books and torn the pages out, crumpling them up and littering the bushes in front of the entrance with them. Placed directly on his doormat was the bent and destroyed cover. They'd taken permanent markers to the duster jacket and written insults all over it. Most of them were childish scribblings. The one that stuck up to him most was the simple addition of an extra "D" in his name.

Thus came the creation of the most clever quip these teenagers had against him: Calvin Weird-Fields.

It was silly, he knew it and his cheeks grew red every time he thought about it. But it only ever reminded him of growing up being the prodigal genius. Most people thought he was brilliant. That presented a certain set of issues, all laced with a paradoxical sense of narcissism and self loathing. But the people that insisted he'd peaked during his teenage years? That opened up a brand new avenue of anxieties, ones that made him feel sick to his stomach every time he thought of them.

He really was nothing special. Just a kid who got lucky once. And he'd never amount else aside from that. Those bratty teenagers would probably do more than he ever had managed to do in his few decades of life.

Feeling your hands set on his shoulders once more, you bring him back into the moment. "Calvin. It's late. We can worry about this tomorrow. We're both kind of drunk and I'm sure we're both really tired. So why don't we go back inside and try to get some sleep?"

Eyes glazed over, he stares back at you blankly through his tortoiseshell glasses.

You continue, bringing your hands down to his and hold them tightly in yours, hoping he can feel your sincerity in the touch. "Honey," Right as you start, you remember his words from earlier. "Just because things didn't go exactly to plan, it doesn't mean everything is fucked. We're going to be just fine. We'll figure it out in the morning."

"We?"

Your head tilts bittersweetly, affected entirely by his tenderness and all too aware that he's still too used to going at things alone. You can't imagine what it's like being stuck in his head sometimes; caught between a self aggrandizing front and an inner voice that is probably far more critical of himself than even the harshest reviewer.

"Yes. We." you answer finally. "Now can we go inside? I'm getting really fucking cold. Maybe you can warm me up." With the chunky sweater you're wearing, it's obviously a complete lie. But you don't think Calvin notices or cares.

The anger starts to melt away and he squeezes your hands in his before bringing them to his lips and giving them a chaste kiss. You see his gloomy green eyes are misty with the beginnings of a few tears that he quickly wipes away with the sleeve of his own sweater.

"That sounds nice." he concludes quietly, letting you lead him back inside his apartment.

#danonation #paul dano #danocel #ruby sparks #calvin weir fields #calvin weir fields x reader #calvin weir fields x you #calvin weir fields x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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keithbutgay · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 2: Delirium / “They don’t care about you” ft. Chuuya

It’s been five years since the Flags died, and Chuuya is on his fifth glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Tipping the last of the drink down his throat, he calls for another as the world deteriorates into fog.

He feels as though he’s drowning. His ears ring, but it sounds more like a siren’s wail than a bell.

Isn’t that silly? Sirens don’t ring. He doesn’t know why he thought about that. The smog in his head is hard to think through.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pianoman’s voice echoed throughout the room as he moved Chuuya’s hair away from his eyes. “You could never be a monster.”

He can’t remember how long he’s been sitting here, wine in his hand and his friends in his mind. To be honest, he’s surprised he hasn’t passed out yet.

Maybe he has. Maybe this is all a dream. He doubts it would feel any different from the clouds he’s falling through.

He downs another glass of absurdly expensive wine.

Sitting on the couch, watching Lippmann’s movies.

Sharing random trivia facts with Doc when he was unable to leave his bed.

Raiding shops with Albatross. They never did get caught.

The bartender is beginning to look warily in his direction. Chuuya doesn’t notice as he calls for more and more wine. He needs to be more drunk. He can’t remember this. Not now.

Not when he’s successfully forgotten for years.

Drinking coffee with Iceman. He always preferred it black.

Talking about missions in the faded room.

Ranting about Dazai while the rest of the Flags looked on knowingly.

Water is closing in over his head. He doesn't understand what's going on, but he feels a glass in his hand and he takes another gulp. It doesn't matter what it is. The buzzing obstructs the taste, anyway.

A brief thought brings it to his attention that he should probably let someone know he's here. He's on his eighth drink and he's not here anymore.

He feels so high up that he'll never come down, but the memories won't stop. He doesn't understand.

The day he joined.

The day he started the gemstone black market.

The day they first told him they were proud of him. They were the first people to do so.

He somehow ends up with his phone in his hand. It's ringing, and he doesn't know why. He opens Dazai's contact again and again, calling him over and over. He doesn't remember a thing.

He tosses back another glass, and suddenly if you told him the sky was orange he would repaint every one of his works.

Mackerel, his screen flashes as it vibrates on the table. Mackerel. Mackerel. It's strange- he doesn't know anyone by that name. He reopens the contact, pressing the call button over and over. He might not know who they are, but maybe if they're calling, they care. He'd give a lot for someone to care.

But the screen keeps flashing. Seems no matter the price, he's not worth love.

He's suddenly aware of the bar doors banging open, a flash of cream white and sky blue and chocolate brown before he descends back into the depths. His head crashes onto the table as something warm attempts to catch him.

He leans into it, the warm thing cursing as it tries to hold Chuuya up. It's not doing a very good job, and a tired giggle escapes Chuuya's lips.

"Guess I got a little carried away with this shit, huh, Lippmann? Better take me to Doc. He’ll fix me up” His words fade into a slurred mess as his eyes close. He doesn’t feel the warm thing anymore. Maybe he was imagining it.

Maybe he was never here in the first place.

He giggles again, tears leaking from his eyes. Yeah. That’s it, isn’t it?

No one ever stays. No one ever fucking stays.

But if you never attend the party, you never have to leave.

#i haven't read stormbringer- hopefully everyone's not too ooc haha #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #the flags bsd #stormbringer #chuuya angst

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 7 months

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i need daddy kento to throw me around like i weigh nothing and call me all kinds of mean names and tell me that a bratty slut like me doesn't deserve his cock. but it's the only cock that could ever satiate my hunger. he's so mean but im here for it. i'd also totally ride his abs so hard he'd be asking if i think it's his dick. i need his cock DOWN MY THROAT ok i need his CUM INSIDE OF ME i need him IN MY BED OK i need this man in ways that CANNOT be explained. OK??? NO it's not OK bc HE'S NOT IN MY BED. i literslly wanna sob especailly because i know what is coming for my baby nanami. i just wanna hug him but at the same time have his dick inside of me. :((((

ANYWAYSSSS

imagine being a lonely housewife for a very busy man who often finds himself prioritising work over your needs. the kids are barely home and your friends are all consumed in their own lives. it seems peaceful - some might even say ideal - at first, however it starts to eat at you. especially on important events like your 16th annirvsary.

"i know i know, i promised but you have to understand that the meeting was pushed back and we still don't have the arrangements for the business trip. i promise i'll-" you cut off the phone before he could make another empty promise. you huffed, groaning as you faced the cold dinner you'd made for the two of you. it was the first meal you ever made for him when you guys first moved in together and unsurprisingly his favourite.

you walked back into the kitchen to pour yourself more of that special wine you saved for this day. you stared at the sink for a bit, letting your mind drift off, before hearing the sound of rushing water. you looked down to see water from the bottom of the sink rushing to your feet. you quickly scurried to the far side of the room, silently cursing under your breath. you grabbed your landline to phone your local plumber. much to your dismay, he was all booked out for tonight and you couldn't wait until the morning, however he mentioned something about phoning in the local fire station as most of the men were trained to deal with plumbing issues.

you placed your full wine glass down upon hearing the door bell ring. you checked yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall, running your hands through your hair and wiping the lip gloss off the side of your cheek, making sure you were decent.

"uh..Ms Y/N?" the tired man asks, his eyes hanging low as his peered at your appearance. to say you were an attractive woman was an understatement. your hair hung in loose curls that framed your face and your light blue nightgown accentuated your body shape. your baby blue silk robe seemed to flow and shift in elegance and grace. "this is she, are you nanami?" "yeah... kento nanami. i heard you've got a leaky pipe." he gestured towards the toolbox he carried with him. he followed your lead into the kitchen occasionally leering down watching your ass through the light fabric of the robe, his own shoes thumping to the beat of your own, matching house slippers clicking against the tiled floors.

"just what i thought, a loose pipe." he said grunting as he reached for his wrench. "you want sum' to drink, nanami?" you asked shoving the half empty wine bottle in his face. you were bored, alone and borderline drunk. he chuckled before shaking his head. "drink on the job? nah, no thank you," he sat up before he looked down and huffed. "oh come on, it's terrible drinking alone," you whine, slightly slurring your words, trying to convince the hot middle aged man to say a little longer. his sunken brown eyes bore into yours suspiciously. "you're alone? i thought i saw to dinner plates on the dining table," a sour expression immediately replaced your hopeful one. "oh right. it's my anniversary, but my husband got 'caught up' at work again," you huffed out annoyed.

nanami thought for a while. ever since his divorce, he hadn't come home to a freshly made meal. however he was here strictly for business and he needed to remember that. "well, if your husband isn't here, why let the food go to waste?" he smiled at you. your eyes lit up. it had been months since you'd ate with someone else. he smiled to himself as he watched you grab the dinner plate and popped it in the microwave. "and about that wine, why don't you pour me a glass to go with it,"

"my eldest was an easy baby. look, she didn't even cry when we pierced her ears," you pointed to the old picture of your daughter as nanami reached over to see your child in her infant years. "wish i could say the same. last time i saw my girl, she was always crying," he laughed light-heartedly before becoming silent as he saw your puzzled expression. "divorce. the missus got full custody," he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. you didn't pry further. you moved over to his side, rubbing his shoulders as bent over, silently reasaurring him. "i'll get more wine. here lemme take your plate," you whispered, taking the empty glass from his hand, your breath lingering around the back of his ear.

as you scrubbed the plate clean, you felt hot breath fan against your neck. "nanami, what are you doing?" you gasped as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. his lips moved up and down your neck sensually, moving in a rhythm that had you dripping through your laced panties as he groaned in response. "nanami, we shouldn't," you protested, however you made no attempt to get away from his grasp, even as his grip tightened. "shh, you're so under appreciated in your own home," he sighed in your ear before planting a kiss behind it. you whined as you subconsciously rubbed against his throbbing bulge. "nanami-" "call me kento, please," he spun you around with one hand to face him.

his chiselled face moved closer to yours and for the first time you could smell his cologne. hints of sandalwood, spice and jasmine tickled your nose in the most sensual way. your eyes locked for a moment, before you looked away. it had been so long since you'd felt the touch of your husband let alone a man. the sexual tension increased with every second you guys took staring into each others eyes.

he soft lips brushed against yours as he looked you in your eyes, your foreheads touching. "if you don't want this, just say the words. say the words and i'll leave right now. this would be our little secret," he whispered. you searched his eyes, but all you saw was a sparkle. a certain sparkle he hadn't had in years. a certain sparkle you haven't seen in years.

his warm tongue swirled in your mouth as his hand cupped your aching cunt. his other hand was at the back of your head as the two of you sloppily made out. your hands cupped his face, caressing it in your soft hands. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed a finger against your clothes clit. "m'gonna make you feel s'good," he sighed as he broke the kiss, moving down to your neck. you whined as he pulled his hand from your underwear. he took of his jacket revealing his broad shoulders and wide chest hidden beneath a white wife beater. his veins popping out with every movement he made. "come here," he whispered eagerly holding out his arms for you to jump in. he lifted you onto the counter, his tender lips somehow making their way back to yours again.

you watched eagerly as he lowered himself, face to face with your dripping hole. "look at you. she hasn't been fucked in weeks, has she?" he sniggered as he watched your face drop. he'd gone from a well mannered service provider to a man with a fucking filthy mouth. maybe you'll keep him around longer. your thoughts were interrupted by a warm and wet tongue lapping against your clothed cunt. "nanami...!" you squealed instinctively reaching to grab on his hair and shut your legs around his head. he laughed at your reaction, the vibrations stimulating your cunt further. he simply just ripped your legs apart with his big strong arms. "keep still f'me," he demanded. you whined but nonetheless followed his instructions.

his mouth reattached itself to your sopping pussy as he continued lapping. he made sure to suck and nibble on your throbbing clit even through your lacey blue panties. you groaned as his fingers moved to play around and rub your slit. you huffed, your sensitive pussy clenching around an empty space. your legs started to twitch as he moved his fingers towards your clit, rubbing firm circles. "wow, you close already? so filthy..." he whispered condescendingly. "kento...!" you pulled harder at his hair as his fingered moved faster.

your legs began shaking as it became too much too quickly. "what is it, princess? you gonna come for me, yeah?" he watches as you gasp and attempt to close your legs around his hand. but he was just too strong. you gasped as he moved his hand, leaving on the edge of your orgasm. "what the hell?" you shot up from the counter. "be patient. i said i'd make you feel good, didn't i?" he raised a brow whilst unbuckling his cargo pants and dropping his drawls. they fell to the floor as his hot bulge made your pussy leak even more. "fuck..." he sighed, finally getting his dick free. he pumped his cock a few times, smearing the pre-cum all over.

he pulled your panties off, slick sticking to your foiled panties. his thumb and index pulled your lips apart, watching as your stringing arousal stuck them together and your hole clench around the cool air. "how long since you been eaten out, babe?" he asks. "what?" you sigh, too cock hungry to register his question. your whining gave him all he needed to know. he clicked his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sore bud. his large hands held your thighs open, as wide as they could go. you squealed as his tongue lapped against your cunt.

the only time he broke away was to spit on your filthy hole, watching as it dripped down to your clenching asshole. he was sloppy. and messy. and loud. he groaned in encouragement, making sure to make a mess out of your sopping cunt. you cried out in ecstasy as he brought his mouth to your clit again, this time making sure to suck hard. he shook his head from side to side, eliciting a high pitched moan from your mouth. "kento!" you whined at the stranger in your home from the sensitivity of it all.

"fuck...ken- m'so close" he groaned his response as your brows furrowed and your eyes glossed over in bliss. your hips buckled against his mouth despite him trying to hold you still. "stop squirming, pretty," he grumbled. "look at the way she's talking to me. she's just begging to cum," he squinted before bringing you right into his mouth again and holding you there. "come on baby," he spat on your cunt before diving in further. "wait- wait- ken-to..." you wailed, attempting to push his head away.

your cunt wasn't used to the stimulation of being sloppily eaten. the sensitivity was getting to you fast. tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you began sniffing. his grip tightened on you as you squirmed harder. your legs shook and twitched around his head.

"ken! slow down, please!" he smiled as he watched you writhe in his tight hold. your stomach tightened and your breathe hitched. your toes started curling as you arched your back and pulled his hair for dear life. your held your breath as you came all over his face. "yeah...that's it, just like that," he watched as your legs spasmed and your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled mindlessly out of your mouth. "fuck..." you slurred slowly coming back to your senses. he pulled away and closely watched you come down from your high as he slowly rubbed on your sore clit.

"hah...that was s'good..." you breathed. "i told you i'd make you feel good," he whispered as he took your hand in his and took your shaky figure into the living room. his large hand wrapped around your waist. he sat upright on the sofa beckoning you towards his lap. you sat in between his open legs. "ride me baby, show me how much you've missed having a dick inside of you," he leered at your figure towering over him. you discarded the silk robe and kneeled over his stiff cock.

"ken it's too big, it won't fit..." you thought for a bit. he smirked before rubbing your back. "come on, we can go slow..." "ken s'not gonna fit!" you pleaded. "you're a big girl, take it like one," he sternly said. your pursed your lips. you took it in your hands, pumping it a few times before sinking down.

you winced in unison, your tight walls squeezing on his throbbing dick. he was thick and girthy. hitting you in all the right places. he had you drooling already. he tapped you thigh, breaking you from your dicked hungry state. "wow, you really haven't been fucked in a while," he chuckled.

you started grinding your hips, experimenting with different paces. his hand remained on your hips, before you started to bounce up and down. "there's a good girl," he sighed, watching your body move up and down, fucking yourself on his aching cock. "you like that, yeah?" you asked, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders. his hand moved down to your ass before landing a heavy handed smack. he rubbed on the sore skin, before squeezing it in his hands. "fuck yeah, i love it," he whined, his hips buckling.

you laughed breathlessly however your pace never faltered. his grip tightened as you began to gain in speed. your gummy walls gripped on his eager dick, clenching tightly. you gasped upon feeling his cock meet your hips. your wet cunt made it easy for kento to thrust up into you and he made sure you knew.

"hah...fuck kento..." you cried looking down at him. his eyes were glossed over in a cloud of lust and hunger. "keep going f'me girl," his fingers moved towards your clit, rubbing firm circles on the bud. "keep going, come on," he huffed sexily moving the hair from his face, with his free hand. you winced as his pace quickened. "fuck, keep squeezing me like that," he whined, throwing his head back. "fuck Y/N..." his fingers continued to play with your clit while his other hand landed another sharp slap onto your ass.

your eyes rolled into your skull as his hips angled towards the spongey spot deep in your cunt. "fuck!" you whine. your legs buckle as he watches you fall. "oh you like that?" he chuckles lowly. "yes yes yes! fuck kento!" your eyes roll back as his pace quickens. he fucks himself into you hissing every time you clench down on him.

"kento, m'close!" you gasped, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he watched from below as your face contorted into that of bliss as he kept hitting that same spot. "just like that," your cunt squelched with every thrust nanami had to give you. your tummy churned as his dick pummelled your gummy walls. your slick was running down your leg as you let out babbles and moans of pure nonsense. you legs began to spasm as you started drooling. "whose dick is this?" he said through breaths. "huh?" you whined too dick whipped to comprehend anything. he smacked your bum again, "whose. dick. is. this?" he said firmly in between thrusts.

"it's mine, mine kento!" you wailed loud enough for neighbours to hear. "there's a good girl," his large arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still against his hips. your babbles increased in pitch and your legs grew limp. "you close baby?" he asked raising a brow.

you nodded eagerly. "use you words f'me. tell me how bad you wanna cum," "uh huh, uh huh, want it so bad kento!"

your toes curled and uncurled as nanami kept his hips at the angle that had you coming undone. "yes fuck! thank you! thank you!" you babble out nodding your head, tears stinging in your eyes. "fuck, you're too tight, loosen up f'me," he whined, his hips were stuttering as he tried to move but you were just too tight. you were too fucked out on his hefty cock to even acknowledge his comment. "Y/N, you need to relax.." his voice became higher in pitch as he continued to thrust into your tight hole.

his thrust became sloppy and inconsistant as his legs started to spasm. "m'gonna cum," he huffed, thick cock throbbing inside of you. "inside kento!" you wailed incoherently. "inside? you want it inside, yeah?" you nodded sobbing as tears from over sensitivity started flowing freely down your cheeks. his hips stuttered one last time before he came in your sore cunt.

his eyes rolled back as he huffed. his arm around your waist tightened as he began to pull out. your cunt oozed with a mixture of your slick, cum and his cum. "yeah, that's it...look at that. your cunt is just leaking," his filthy mouth was back at work as the creampie ran down your leg.

he slid his tip between your folds smearing the mess everywhere. his thick cock left your aching hole gaping as he kissed your forehead. as you leaned in to kiss all over his face, the landline rung. "i'll go get the phone," you sighed that such a sensual moment was being ruined.

"hello?"

"hey honey, how would you feel about a trip to a resort in Miami for a week?" your husband suggested as an apology for missing your anniversary. you thought for a moment before facing the firefighter in your home. he lay on the sofa, smiling goofily to himself, with one hand placed behind his head.

"sure, why not."

"and again, i'm sorry i missed our anniversary, i won't happen again." he chuckled from the other side of the phone. you did start to feel guilty about sleeping with another man when you have a hard working husband, but then again, your own husband was out having his own escapades with various other women you weren't aware about. "i'm sure i won't," you replied slyly before hanging up the landline.

you walked over to the nasty fireman before sitting back in his lap.

"round 2?"

"i thought you'd never ask..."

2023 © swxxtsxcchxrine— do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome <3

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Congrats on 500! Would I be able to request the prompt “are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?” from angst with austin!elvis! Thank you so much 😘😘

thank you anon! 💖 you definitely can! general note, elvis did not really drink all that often due to the fact that he was a mean drunk and generally speaking, let's be honest, his mother was an alcoholic and he was at least aware of the possibility of him becoming one. why he couldn't apply that knowledge to pills is a fascinating case of well it's prescribed so its fine vs it's illegal/not given to me by a doc. but i digress. so that means it's austin!elvis x reader time though i could make a case for 50s austin elvis asking his mama that.

angst, "are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?" - austin!elvis ( see also: it's never safe for us not even in the evening 'cos i've been drinking )

tw: unhealthy relationship tbh. drinking, obviously. codependence. mention of elvis's drug use. a slight age difference. better than his normal but still oof.

it wasn't always like this. it wasn't always like this until it was always like this. it wasn't always like this until your husband proved time and time again you made a mistake. you made a mistake marrying him when you were 20 and in love and he had just come back from war, "oh please daddy, say yes, all he wants to do is marry me and we can have a family."

what you have is a daughter born too long into your marriage for everyone to not think there was something wrong with you and elvis. no, that hadn't been it, but to make a kid you have to be in the same room together. it wasn't always like this until your husband's affair with ann margret was splashed all over the tabloids.

"a pink bed, elvis? are you kidding me? this is humiliating!" you shouted.

"it ain't like that baby!" he roared back crowding you. "you know i wouldn't do that satnin."

truth is, you didn't know what he'd do anymore.

it wasn't like this until you were left alone at graceland for two movies and jerry tried to keep elvis on a leash but "it's getting bad." so you come to hollywood and elvis- he's exhausted but it's always that he's fine, he's got his medication just go back to sleep. as if you've been able to sleep worth anything without a glass of wine or five since the ann margret incident. it wasn't always like this and it wasn't like it at all when you found out about lisa. you had all his attention and every second not on set filming was spent touching your belly and singing songs to it. hell, he had even tried to regain some semblance of a sleeping pattern. it wasn't like this for the blissful year until it went back to being like this.

you drink heavily after she's born, enough that elvis hires a nanny because he can't wake up all the time with her and go on shoots and "goddammit woman, she's our daughter, stop this and take care of her."

he makes you quit right before the 68 special, something about how he has plans to reinvigorate everything in his life and that includes you and him. but there's something about those eyes and him looking like he has all the hope in the world that makes you do it. and so it stopped being like that for a while and you were happy. you both were so happy and lisa was trying to walk and seeing him tell her "up up up" has you blurting out "you should call it the lisa marie."

but then the colonel did exactly what you said he would and clipped everyone's wings. this was supposed to be the new beginning and now- and now it's ruined. elvis is strung out on god knows what any more. and you drink. and you worry. and you drink. and you worry. and you drink. and you have to leave, your parents will pay for another round of rehab or you'll make elvis do it in the divorce but its clear you can't stay here. your liver can stand being here any more.

you're drunk already. it's 11 in the morning and you know your words are mildly slurring when the driver asks you if you think this is a wise decision. it's the wisest one you're ever going to make you think. you're drunk already and it means you slame things a little harder than you should when you're packing up the last bit of stuff from the room you share- ha, that's a joke- with elvis. between that and the curtain opening up his eyes blearily blink at you.

"baby? y/n? what're doing?" his own words come out a little slow but you can't tell if that's from whatever downer he took to sleep or from his half asleep state. you figure it's both.

you take a deep breath and stand up a little wobbly. you can do this, you can tell him what's been on your mind and what you're doing. "i'm leaving you, and i'm taking lisa wit' me."

your own accent betrays you throwing away whatever training your mother instilled in you to try and be more more southern belle and less poor trash. it angers you to your core and has you half tripping in your heels before you catch yourself in the bathroom.

the noise your stumble makes has elvis up in a heartbeat like he wasn't just passed out not even five minutes ago. his legs carry him to the bathroom where he crowds you against the counter.

"are you drunk? i thought you stopped drinking?" he growls, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "you're not taking lisa like this. you're not goddamn going anywhere like this."

"i am." you spit back, actually letting a bit of spit hit his face. "and i've been drinking again for months you just haven't noticed. strung out on whatever those leeches have you on."

he shakes his head and lowers his voice to a whisper. "no i'd- i'd have noticed you drinking like mama again."

"not when you're not here. or when you're here you're a ghost. lisa's cried for you and i have to tell her daddy's passed out or daddy is in seattle or across town but can't visit because he's doped up." you whisper back, grabbing elvis's wrist in an attempt to force him to let your chin go.

he grants your request and once again shakes his head. "satnin. darlin'-" he stops himself and you can see his eyes tearing up. "i let you get that bad again, didn't i? i did- i'll stop. don't leave. we'll- go together. we'll go to that place you went to together."

you fell for this once, you think, back before the 68 special and you know quite well the colonel won't give elvis enough of a break to actually do what would need to be done for both of you to get healthy. you put your hands on either side of elvis's face and shake your head. "no, honey. i'm not- i'm goin'. my parents are taking lisa and i'm goin'."

there is no room for him in this equation and from his sigh he knows it. "come back when you do, please. i can't- i need my girl. please. i'll do something just come back when you're better. please don't leave me like mama. please."

you know he won't let you go if you don't say yes. you shouldn't say yes but you can't stop it coming from your mouth. "i won't, handsome. but you gotta let me go right now."

his hands drop to his sides almost like you were a general and he gave an order. he places a kiss on your forehead before wrapping you in his arms. "promise."

"i promise." you say.

you're not sure if you were lying or not.

#do not expect this speed all week.#y'all just don't. it was my day off and damn if i wasn't apparently super inspired.#austin!elvis x reader #austin butler #austin!elvis x y/n #does this actually count as a blurb? i don't know i couldn't find a stopping point or not.#w/e w/e my gala i do what i want.#ally's 500 follower gala #ally answers asks #austin!elvis angst

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btsgotjams27 · 9 months

Text

this is us ~ jjk | deleted scene

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend's brother ✨ playlist | ✨ if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: hi everyone. i thought it'd be fun to leave a little deleted scene for you. this is after their break-up and what i originally wrote, but ya know...things obviously changed lol. it's unedited and unfinished. i hope you enjoy it anyway!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

deleted scene | wc: 2.0k warnings: language, angst, kissing, drinking, oc is drunk and hungover

~ six months after the breakup ~

Six months have passed since you and Jungkook broke up. The days were unbearable, and nights became endless.

There were times when your heart hurt so bad. You almost gave in and called to see how he was doing or what he was up to, but you held back. It was dumb to think he'd want to talk to you because he was hurt. You had broken his heart for the second time. You shouldn't be surprised if he doesn't want to hear from you again.

You felt sorry for yourself and decided that the bar would be the best place to drown your sorrows, so you dragged Hyunie along with you. She was taken aback by your unexpected phone call, but she knew what had happened between you and Jungkook and didn't want you to be alone. You were too afraid to call Yuna. She was a mother with a newborn, and you had broken her baby brother's heart twice.

When Hyunie discovered you at the bar, she tried to stop you from ordering another drink. "How many drinks have you had?" she asked, pulling the glass away.

You snatched the glass from her grasp and held it up, mesmerized. "Mm...I think this is number two," you mumbled, holding up two fingers. "At the bar, you're number one. I may have had a little pre-game drinking...two glasses of wine at home." You slurred before downing the shot glass of tequila.

No matter how much you begged, Hyunie told the bartender not to give you any more drinks, and he agreed.

"Let me drink, Hyunie. I'm perfectly fine." You stood up like Bambi on ice with wobbly legs. It was a heartbreaking sight to see. You focused on your friend and blinked a few times.

"You're obviously not fine. I love you, babe, but look at you - you're a fucking disaster." She linked her arm with yours, pleading with you to leave.

You yanked your arm away from hers and sat down again. "We hadn't even shared a drink yet. Come on...take a seat,” you said this while patting the stool next to you.

"Jeez, woman...I can't do this by myself. I'm gonna call for backup." She took her phone from her purse and began scrolling through it. Then she grabbed your shoulder. "Stay here and don't leave. I'll be right back."

You chuckled. "Okay, bestie."

You slumped back in your chair, disappointed that the bartender wouldn't let you have more drinks per Hyunie's request. But that didn't stop you from asking the handsome stranger next to you to buy you one.

You snapped your head in his direction, shamelessly staring him down from head to toe. He was dressed in a black bomber jacket and black slacks, similar to what Jungkook would wear, but he was paler and shorter.

"You're cute."

The handsome man took a sip of his drink before glancing at you. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Buy me a drink?"

"Didn't your friend tell the bartender you couldn't have any more?"

You leaned in close and said, "You don't appear to be someone who abides by the rules. Come on..." You encouraged him, attempting to persuade him. "Pwetty pwease?" With puppy eyes and a pout, you inquired.

You figured a little motivation would help you when he kept staring at you and didn't move. You turned to face him, slightly spreading your legs apart, hands between your thighs, and leaning forward. "I would really love it if you bought me a drink." Your right hand is placed on his thigh. You were shameless. "Please."

He laughed and shook his head, flagging down the bartender. "Please, two glasses of single malt whiskey." The bartender was staring at you. "They're both for me," the man explained. The bartender was not easily persuaded but went to get his drinks anyway.

–

You told Hyunie you needed to use the restroom, and she offered to take you, but you declined, saying you were a big girl and could handle it. If Hyunie had seen you trying to walk to the restroom, it would have been a very sad sight. Your heels were digging into your feet, and your skin was starting to burn. You accidentally pushed the bathroom door too hard, causing it to slam against the wall.

"Whoopsies–"

You walked out of the stall after using the restroom to wash your hands. The door swung open, and you noticed the man from earlier flirting with you in the mirror. "I think you're in the wrong bathroom," he smirked, cocking his brow.

"And what's it to you?" you asked as you washed your hands and turned off the water. You were much more confident than usual, thanks to the liquid courage. You turned around, hands propped up against the counter, to face the devilishly handsome man.

"Am I too forward if I ask if I can kiss you?"

"That's funny because I was going to ask you the same thing."

The devil was approaching you, and you couldn't be more excited now. His eyes darkened as he examined you from head to toe, taking in every inch of your body. "I don't normally do this, but you're alluring."

A smug smile crept across your face, "Alluring? Or just drunk?" you asked.

As he moved closer to you, your cheeks turned bright red. His stature has now overtaken yours. The sweet smell of his cologne dominates the space between you and him. He smelled so good.

"Kook," you moaned.

"Name's Yoongi—"

You cut him off by covering his mouth with your hand. "You're ruining it by speaking–continue doing what you're doing."

"Anything for you, princess."

You hated when men called you that. "Shh–no talking."

–

The door swung open again, but a familiar voice called out your name this time. You pulled yourself away from the handsome man and looked up to see a raged, heaving Jin, ready to pummel someone.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Jeez, Hyunie..."

"Yah--what the hell do you think you're doing?" He took a step closer to you.

"I'm trying to fuck someone. Can't you see that?"

"Yeah, I can see that--come on, let's go." He stomped over to you and grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the filthy bathroom.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—who are you, and where are you taking her?" Asked the man you were just about to fuck.

"Man, stay out of it. You're really about to fuck someone who won't remember you the next day? Very classy, "Jin argued as he tightened his grip on your hand.

You were fighting him so hard that he got tired of it and threw you over his shoulder. "I swear to God, Kim Seokjin, if you don't put me down right now, I'll hurt you."

He ignored you as he carried you out and stuffed you into his car, ignoring your screams and tears.

When you arrived at his house, you finally quieted down from all the fuss you had made earlier.

(Go to oc's apartment)

"You're such a mess." (Jin)

"I miss him." (Yn)

Jin didn't respond to you. Instead, he continued to help take off your shoes as you lay helplessly on your bed.

"I miss him so much my heart hurts. Maybe I should text him, just to see how he's doing." (Yn)

(Jin takes away the phone) "No, that would not be a good idea."

"I'm so stupid." (Yn)

"I'm glad you finally figured that out." (Jin)

"You're so mean." (Yn)

"What? I'm just agreeing with you." Jin

"Do you think he still loves me?" Yn

"Of course he does." Jin

"Do you think I made a mistake?" Yn

"I don't know the answer to that. Only you do." Jin

"How...how did you know where I was?" yn

"Hyunie called Yuna. Yuna told Namjoon, and Namjoon called me." Jin

You were embarrassed now, knowing Yuna was aware of your downward spiral, even though it was your fault. She understood why you needed to end your relationship with him. Because it was her younger brother, she'd say the same thing to any other guy. She also wished to protect him.

You couldn't blame Jungkook for leaving after everything you'd been through with him. How could you possibly? To be honest, you'd most likely do the same. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out when everything went wrong with U-jin. You weren't sure if you could handle the humiliation, the questions, the shame. Obviously, you didn't force him to cheat, but you couldn't help but wonder if you did something to encourage him.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with ideas. Nights were the most difficult because they reminded you that you were alone. And, of course, your thoughts turned to Jungkook, wondering how he was, what or who he was doing, or if he ever thought about you. That's the terrifying thing about distance. You weren't sure whether he missed you or wanted to forget about you.

Jin thankfully left you a glass of water and sleeping pills. You found yourself needing them frequently these days, wanting to shut your mind down as quickly as possible. Since the breakup, the weight of your decision has taken a toll on you. That's why you fell off the deep end tonight.

–

The next day, Hyunie called to check on you, asking if she could come over because she knew you shouldn't be alone. You told her she was free to do whatever she wanted. She appeared on your doorstep bearing comfort food. The pounding headache from last night's shenanigans remained.

"I have porridge," she stated as she set the food containers on the table.

You grunted at her as you curled up on the couch.

"What are you doing, friend?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Surviving." Yn

"Surviving?" Hyunie questioned.

"Surviving this break-up."

"There are other things you can do to keep yourself busy,” Jin chimed in, holding two cups of coffee."There's no need to jump every man you see in a bar.”

"Oh god—" you moaned as the previous night's events came flooding back to you. Asking the man to buy you a drink, shamelessly flirting with him, and essentially letting a stranger feel you up in the restroom. A bit pitiful, if you should say so yourself.

"Yup--I basically found you about to fuck the guy," Jin retorted.

"Let's just forget about my stupid screw up, okay?"

Your friends were staring at you.

"Okay?!"

"Okay..." Both said in unison.

"And please...don't go telling Jungkook about any of this. It's bad enough as it is."

You were certain that Jin still spoke to him on a regular basis, given that they both worked for the same company. Yuna obviously knew something was wrong when Hyunie called her, so even if you hoped Jungkook wouldn't find out, there was no guarantee he wouldn't find out through the grapevine.

"We'll do whatever you want, okay? Just–let us be here for you, babe. You don't have to go through this alone," Hyunie said sweetly, holding her hand for yours.

You caught a breath in your throat, trying not to cry, but you could feel tears welling behind your eyes and a deep ache in your heart. "I know. I'm sorry. It just hurts. I just hate how this ended. I'm so fucking stupid, and it's all my fault."

"You're not stupid," Jin countered. "Look, I love Jungkook. He's like a little brother to me. But he left without a goodbye, without saying anything to you, and that's fucked up. And I've told him that several times."

"You have?"

"Yeah, I'm not afraid to tell him the truth. You didn't deserve that. Even though you guys were basically broken up, he should have said goodbye so you could have closure."

"However, I don't blame him." You shook your head. The time leading up to the breakup was hazy, with a lot going on - your mom in the hospital, Yuna having her baby, your TV show, and so on. "It's fine, Jin...don't lecture him about me anymore. He's most likely moved on by now."

Jin lamented, if only you knew the truth because Jungkook was just as unhappy.

When Jungkook left, you knew you'd messed everything up. That was the day you decided to stop living for others and begin living for yourself. You wouldn't let the opinions of others dictate what you wanted.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #TIU: deleted scenes #fic: this is us

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hello-nichya-here · 2 years

Note

no thoughts head empty only the blorbos bein' cute

---

Azula pouted, her pretty red lips jutting out. "Zuzu," she said, blinking her wide gold eyes, imitating a puppy hopeful for table scraps - a mental comparison that would have led Azula to burn Zuko if she was aware of it. "Please?"

Zuko was irritated. He had warned Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee a hundred times about the particular crew they were choosing to consort with tonight. Still - of course when he got a phone call from Mai, her measured voice just a little slurred, he was in the driver's seat with the key in the ignition before she could get out her request.

Dropping Mai and Ty Lee off together at their place- for them to saunter in together arm and arm - left Zuko chuckling. Leaving Azula at her empty apartment, rent paid courtesy of Ozai, was different. Azula was shaky on her feet and only semi-aware of her surroundings. The possibility of her choking on her own puke or otherwise falling and hurting herself was not lost on Zuko. So, that was how Zuko ended up half carrying half leading his baby sister to his bed in his apartment.

Now Azula was kneeling on the bed, pouting as Zuko entered the room with a glass of wine in hand. His laptop was opened and playing 'Forensic Files' - Azula's choice, of course, even in her drunken haze she called the shots.

"You're already drunk, 'Zula," Zuko said with a soft laugh, sitting on the bed beside her. "I needed a drink."

"BUT-"

"Hey, I came to pick you up" Zuko interrupted. "That was really nice of me. Let's get comfortable and watch the show." He didn't expect her to respond, but her inebriated state was leading to his own lowered inhibitions, and he made a pouting face. "Please?"

Azula giggled, pushing the pillows against the baseboard and pulling the blankets around herself. "Only because you're so adorable."Oh, that phrase didn't make Zuko's heart turn over or anything.

A few moments later, Zuko found himself watching 'Forensic Files,' leaning against his baseboard under the covers with his baby sister clinging to his arm and leaning against him.

Zuko chuckled, glancing over at Azula, who was hugging his arm and pressing her head to his shoulder, her entire body curled around him. "Someone's feeling needy," Zuko teased. "I'm gonna head to the couch to sleep, soon, okay?"

Azula drew away a little, looking at Zuko aghast. "What?"

"You don't want me to go?" Zuko asked, smirking.

Azula's sincere expression of hurt melted Zuko's heart. Her usual indifference and sarcasm were absent. "No."

"Alright, well, I'm ready to sleep," Zuko said, yawning. It had to be well after one in the morning by now. "Can we turn off the show?"

Azula leaned forward, closing the laptop. She was still in her 'going out' outfit from tonight. The silky, V-necked red dress with tank top straps was falling off. Zuko couldn't help himself but stare as she exposed her black, lacy bra underneath leaning forward. He grabbed the laptop, setting it on his nightstand in a hurry.

"Hey, you can't sleep in that," Zuko said, frowning as he looked over Azula's skintight dress.

Azula groaned. "Zuko, I feel like shit," she said. "Please, can I just sleep?"

Zuko smiled, enjoying her petulant look. "You'll thank me if we at least get the tight dress off."

Zuko had only meant for her to go back to her own room for a moment. He'd forgotten she couldn't stand right now. Instead, Azula turned her back, revealing the zipper. Zuko's stomach turned over, but he undid the zipper. He'd already been in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms when he got Mai's phone call and had not bothered to change.

Azula slid the red dress off her and tossed it to the ground. Zuko pretended to show no reaction as she lay back in the bed, yawning and closing her eyes. He laid beside her, his eyes running up and down her body hungrily. Azula was wearing only her bra and panties now and it was impossible to deny how beautiful she was. It was necessary to deny. She was passed out for Agni's sake.

Azula moaned out of nowhere, startling Zuko. Then she cuddled close to him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping an arm around him. Zuko swallowed hard, feeling her almost naked body pressed against him. She's your little sister, don't think like that.

"Zuko?"

"Mm?"

Azula kissed Zuko's chest through the fabric. "Thanks for coming to get us."

"Sure," Zuko said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "Anytime, Zula."

Azula hugged Zuko a little closer. She wrapped a leg around his hip, pushing her waist against his so that her entire tight little body was pressed into him. Zuko felt his body react against his will. Azula giggled, the sound slurred and half present as she pressed another kiss to Zuko's chest, sending a thrill of warmth through his core. "Best big brother ever."

Now, why did that phrase have such an effect?

---

(lmk if u want pt 2 or not maybe sometime this week idk?)

OF COURSE I WANT A PART 2! What a question! It's sexy, cutesy Zucest cuddles!

#asks #zucest #not safe for what

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ccaptain · 2 years

Note

look at me

cracks my fingers for the HURT -- @11fatui

when the anniversary of kaeya's greatest catastrophe hits, he finds shelter in alcohol. it's a pity and a blessing both that a certaint fatui harbinger seems to know this.

by the time the lock clicks, the form of kaeya is strewn on the floor, throat scraped raw by multiple sessions of vomit and the disappointment of drinks not numbing him enough to go comatose. the light, white blouse makes him prey to the cold floor and shivers. it's stained with wine, and his face feels sticky and stretched, no doubt with old, dryed wine.

he could be an easy target now; a quick dagger to the back of the drunkard's neck, right on the pulse, and kaeya alberich wouldn't be more than a life taken. it would just need a dagger, just that.

instead he's the target of gloved hands and strong arms picking him up, lifting him against a chest that scents familiar. kaeya's head lolls, and then drops heavily on childe's shoulder, like it was severed away from his body. strands of sticky, navy hair rest over sweaty forehead as he tries to take in his surroundings -- ' 'taglia?' he calls out, foggy brain istinctively recognizing his lover... or the hazy perception he has of a dream. surely childe couldn't be back with such a short notice, no? yes, this has to be a dream. there's no way that, in such an horrid day, he deserves childe all for himself. ' mmhey, ' he tries to slur, willing the room to stop spinning by closing his eyes. he feels heavy and bloated, but he thinks childe doesn't mind. ' 'mhappy to... ' a pause, fragmented by a sob. ' see you. '

his body is now sitting on whatever surface may come in handy, a damp, warm cloth pressed over his face to wipe away the stains of old wine. but kaeya alberich thinks of himself undeserving of anything in this moment, so he shakes his head away from it. ' stop, ' he calls out to him, but doesn't retract. ' d'n't... d'serve it, ' he tries to explain, and he's not aware of how small he looks right now.

childe must surely be, because there's a pressure of fingers against his chin, forcing his head up, with the command of looking at him -- kaeya obliges, gladly. at least ajax's serious face doesn't spin as much, and his eyes are... endearingly pretty. he blinks once and twice, dumbly, tilting head in the hold --

-- then reality comes crashing down in a smoldering, sickeningly poisonous wave of events, and kaeya hits the water at an ungodly speed, body breaking the calm surface of muddy dephts.

there's the reality that he hasn't left diluc a present because he didn't thought he'd keep it after all that happened -- and the vision of master crepus's torn body, an arm missing and blood strewn everywhere, coming to mind like a nightmare scenario; he remembers why he was trying to drown himself with drinks, and regrets not having done it sooner, brain ruthlessly bringing him back to the truth.

' gods... ' it's the only thing kaeya can utter before he cracks, creaks and then shatters like a broken mirror, pieces falling everywhere in the room; too sharp to be picked up by bare hands, too little to try and salvage with gloves. unredeemably hurtful, harmful to the touch like the shards are poisoned. too distant to recover, like he had been thrown into the void of forgotten things.

it's too bad that the void hasn't forgotten him, of all people.

he has been painfully, utterly sobered, and all he can do is get out loud, open-mouthed sobs into the gray uniform of his lover, here to hold him through the storm. each sob makes raw throat ache, but it's a pain he's willing to pay for the heartaches he has caused his family.

he doesn't think that ajax should be here, should provide him with an addicting comfort that he's past way of deserving.

but kaeya alberich is a greedy, awful man, and he'll always take what he can get and then some more.

#11fatui #alcohol ment ;;#ask to tag ;;#c: c: c: c: c:

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m0chaminx · 2 years

Note

hiii, if its not a hassle could you please write a bruno madrigal and reader where he gets jealous bcs someone is flirting with his girlfriend(reader)? and he gets all scary and intimidating and everyones like "woah!!" bcs no ones ever seen him that angry before?? totally fine if you dont wna write it but thanks!!

Sorry this took so damn long, wanted to do my Bruno justice

Request : hiii, if its not a hassle could you please write a bruno madrigal and reader where he gets jealous bcs someone is flirting with his girlfriend(reader)? and he gets all scary and intimidating and everyones like "woah!!" bcs no ones ever seen him that angry before?? totally fine if you dont wna write it but thanks!!

Prompt : None

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : drinking/intoxication, slight violence, Bruno being a blushy mess

Paring : Bruno Madrigal x F!reader

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : Bruno can get very jealous and protective, very quickly

656 words

I do not know any Spanish so I did use a lot of google translate, so if there's any mistake I apologize, just let me know ill fix it asap

Once Bruno came back to Casita properly, not inside the walls, he was beyond nervous, to say the least, but you had always brought him a sense of calm. You had dated Bruno for years before he disappeared and after a very sad, mad and confused reunion, a few months later your relationship was restored.

With Dolores and Marino getting engaged, and the town genuinely happy that Bruno had returned, Abuela threw a large party. Bruno was extremely nervous and was basically attached to your side for the night, which you didn't mind, because of course, Bruno needed to readjust to people. You were his rock, his everything, and he was yours.

"Hey, I'm gonna grab us some drinks yeah?" Bruno asked as his eyes caught a fruity drink table.

"Yeah, do you want me to come with you?" You asked while brushing Bruno's hair back. Bruno shook his head but promised he'd only be a few minutes. You nodded, promising you'd stay put so he would know where you were.

"Y/N?" A voice questioned. You turned around to see Diego walking towards you. "Holy hell, I haven't seen you for ages." Diego was drunk, if it wasn't clear by the half-drunk bottle of wine in his hand, then it would be the sway in his step or the slur in his words. Diego was an eccentric kind, overly so when he's drunk.

"Hey Diego," You said sweetly. "I think you've had enough." You reached for the bottle, but Diego pulled the bottle away from your reach, instead he simply placed a hand on your waist leaning in close to your face.

"You know Y/N, I've always thought you were the hottest girl around," Diego slurred his words, already trying to saddle up your side. The stench on his breath made you want to vomit, but when you tried to step back, he simply followed you. "I'm taken Diego, and you are wasted," You said sternly.

Diego shrugged his shoulders trying to lower his hand over your ass, but he was quickly shoved away. The familiar green poncho came into view and your eyes widened seeing Bruno standing in front of you protectively, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. The surrounding guests stopped and stared at the sudden outburst from the quiet man. "Listen, dude, I was trying to" Diego didn't get another word in as Bruno threw a punch at his nose.

"Bruno," You called to him, taking his hand in yours. His expression softened at the realization of what he had done. "Why don't we go back to your room yeah?" Bruno nodded, letting you pull him away.

As soon as you entered Bruno's room he sat on his bed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I didn't mean to- I don't why I- I shouldn't have-" Bruno rambled covering his face with his hands.

You knelt in front of him, slowly taking his hands away from his face. Bruno looked at you, eyes blown wide and his lips pulled into a pout, if you were honest he looked like a kicked puppy. "I'm going to be real with you, I never expected that" You spoke softly, almost as if you would scare him away. "But I understand and am very glad you did. He was drunk he wasn't in his right mind, who knows what he would've done." Bruno smiled softly at you squeezing your hands. "And if I'm honest, that was hot."

Bruno's face darkened immediately with a blush throwing his hands back on his face. "Why?" Bruno whined while tugging his hood over his head. "You can't just say that." Bruno reached out, tugging on your shirt making you fall on top of him.

"Do you wanna stay up here? I'm sure Abuela will understand," You offered, using your hands to hold yourself up. Bruno nodded frantically, rolling you to the side so you could lie next to each other.

Request : Masterlist

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myonepiece · 3 years

Text

"please don't leave me"

w/ kid and doflamingo

warnings: angst-ish

i didn't get carried away i promise

drunken, slurred lyrics filled the old bar; accompanied by the loud pounding of boots against the tables, bar, and floor. it was one of those nights, when everything feels perfect- you're free, powerful, and in love. it's almost euphoric.

sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the crowded, boisterous room, was the captain. the man you loved with all of your heart, and on his thigh, you sat happily. the redhead had his flesh arm wrapped around your waist, in the other hand he held a large mug of whatever the crew had gotten so energetic with- but kid was perfectly happy sitting down with you. the grin on his face expressed more happiness than malice, for once, and you could see that this is how he wanted to live.

looking up at him, almost having to peek over his broad chest, you beamed with admiration, careless to the teasing that was no doubt being thrown around. it seemed that at least one of the taunts had reached kid, because his chest rumbled with a chuckle before he looked down at you.

"what're you staring at?" he asked with a smirk, bright, fiery eyes locking with yours; they appeared filled with madness, but how else could kid love?

"please don't leave me, kid." you said, maintaining the twinkle in your smile despite the melancholia of your question. a pout formed on the captain's lips and a wrinkle in his brow.

"why're you saying that?" he asked, voice, laced with confusing. you simply continued to smile at him, though your eyes grew softer, more sentimental, as you stared into the burning timbers of his eyes. after a shared moment of silence, kid set down his cup and rested his mechanical hand on the table; then, turning slightly in the chair, he pulled you closer and ducked his head down, capturing your lips in his.

a series of whistles and cheers erupted throughout the bar. kid pulled away but tucked his chin next to your ear.

"i'd never leave you." he whispered gruffly, pulling away with red dusting his cheeks. slipping his legs out from under the table, he pushed the chair back a bit and propped his feet on the table, and theen grabbing your legs, he positioned you bridal style on his lap.

you settled your cheek against the warm skin of broad chest, placing your hand over his on your waist. the bar was alight with cheeers and whistles. one of the men raised his mug, with a booming voice he called for a cheers. the rowdy group of men cheerfully raised their mugs, and with a cackle and the menace returning to his eyes, kid picked his up.

sitting in one of the many luxurious items of furniture filling the palace of dressrosa, doflamingo sat with his signature coat discarded on the couch to the left of the chair. clad in only his white satin pajama pants, he brought the bottle of wine to his lips repeatedly until it looked like he wore smudged lipstick.

the door made an abnormaly loud creak when you opened it, most likely amplified by the quietness of the room doffy sat in. the glowing lights of dressrosa just managed to peak in through the window with the moon, casting light across the broad chest of doflamingo. he would have appeared to have not noticed you coming in, but you knew better than to think that. you silently slipped into the room and closed the door, walking across the room until you reached where doffy sat.

one of his arms rested just anough on the arm rest that you could see he had left room for you. you climbled in to his lap carefully, settling back against his warm chest. you peered up at him with a blank expression. doffy turned down to you, scowling and taking another sip of wine.

"doffy, please don't leave me." you whispered. at this, the blond stopped mid drink and removed the bottle from his lips. his face softened and he wore an unreadable expression. doffy had never thought he'd need to hear that, but just as you said it he felt a small piece of that heavy chain around his heart, fall away. a warmth blossomed in his chest and a lump in his throat. he lowered his head more, bringing his forehead against yours.

throught the glassess, you couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel them boring in to you. he gently rubbed his forehead against yours, before grabbing your feet that hung off the chair and swinging them over his lap. with your head resting agaisnt his shoulder, and his chin moved to the crown of your head, his lengthy arms encircled your figure and he finally found sleep.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid headcanons #kid x reader #kidd x reader #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo imagine #doflamingo headcanons

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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