#He makes them look so appetizing

[softquietsteadylove]

Proposal AU

Thena takes care of a very exhausted Gil!

Something sweet and soft 🤭

Gil groaned, trying to turn his face away from the light.

"It's almost over."

He blinked, finding his nose buried in a head of blonde brighter than sunshine. He could have just nestled in further, which was damn tempting of course. But he groaned, adjusting in the...hammock?

"You know, you're actually quite lucky," Thena continued in a whisper. Her fingers ran through his hair. "Had I not joined you here, I'm sure your mother or sisters would have no trouble awakening you for what is actually our own party. But with me in here as well, everyone thinks we're too wrapped up in pre-marital snuggling to bother you."

"You're doing an awful lot of talking for someone determined to let me sleep."

She gave his cheek a poke. "I know very well you're awake. You stopped snoring."

"I do not snore," he grumbled, moving his head so she could pull away and look at him. He pouted.

"You snore a little," she broke it to him gently at least, poking his lip back into place. "But I'll forgive you because you're so exhausted."

He yawned completely reflexively, but he at least pressed it into the shoulder of her cardigan. "How long?"

"A couple of hours."

That scared him. He jolted, not that it did much in their hanging basket arrangement. "No."

Thena nodded, though, confirming the statement that had sent fear shooting through him. "Just over two hours, assuming I found you relatively close to when you fell asleep."

"Thena, no," he groaned again, attempting to drown himself in the fabric suspending them off the ground. "No, no, no--my mom worked her ass off for this party, I can't have been asleep for that long."

"Sh," Thena hushed him from those soft lips again. She was being awfully tender with him. "I told her that I was the one who lulled you into sleep. If anyone is to blame, it's me."

He whimpered, though. "I'm a bad son."

"On the contrary," she had the nerve to laugh at him when he was upset. "You are the son who cooked every morsel of food at this party. If you happened to spend most of it in a hammock with your own fiance, I can't imagine she would have anything to say about it."

Well, she had a point. He did cook all of the food. And Ajak was always telling him to try and relax - with Thena - more. He sighed again, unfolding his arms from around himself and resting one over the curve of Thena's waist. "Guess I can't argue with that."

"You haven't missed much," she informed him. "Ajak announced how pleased she was for us."

Gil snorted, pulling Thena closer to him as a breeze rocked the hammock faintly. "That wasn't what she said when I first told her. Nearly took my ear off demanding to know why I hadn't said anything until now."

"You have a lovely family, Gil."

He opened his eyes again to look at the woman in the hammock with him. Some of their relatives had arrived early for this party. They were distant, some more family friends than anything. But it was certainly an escalation to their little lie. They were having to do couple-y things more often. A 'love you' here, a 'missed you' there. A brush of his hand over her shoulder--that kind of thing. He smiled, "are you actually in here avoiding them?"

Thena didn't deny it, which was basically a confirmation. She slid her hands up his chest and nestled her head closer again, approaching a position to tuck it under his chin. "Your mother knows a staggering number of people."

Gil chuckled, tucking her against him so she wouldn't have to close the gap herself. She happily accepted his invitation, practically settling into him like a cat in a sunbeam. "Sorry I left you to handle them all yourself."

"I gave up rather quickly," she lamented. "Said I had to find you to ask you something for the wedding. It worked to help me avoid anyone for nigh on half an hour."

"We're both bad hosts."

"Indeed," Thena agreed, not seeming all that upset about it. She sighed, her hot breath hitting his throat. "I'll apologise to your mother later."

"I'm pretty sure you can do no wrong in her eyes," he assured her. He had just had a pretty solid nap, but it was way too comfortable to continue lying there with Thena to even think about trying to roll out of the swaying hammock. "You'll be her first daughter-in-law. To her only son, no less. An eldest son I'm pretty sure she was getting worried wouldn't be settling down at all."

"Hm."

"Hey," he called to her before she could slide down that slippery slope of regret. He rubbed small circles in her back, "don't worry about it."

She didn't say anything else, but one of her hands slipped around his side and to his back, clutching a fistful of his shirt. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

He sighed, ready to settle into sleep again, feeling the familiar position of Thena cuddled up to him. He was nearly there when he heard a grating voice getting closer and closer.

"Yoohoo!--lovebirds?"

Gil kept his eyes closed, not in the mood for his showboat cousin who probably wanted to make some dramatic speech about them or drag him up in front of everyone.

"Gil, mom's lookin' for you!"

Thena stirred but he cradled the back of her head with his hand and held the small of her back. "It's a trap."

She puffed out some air at his joke before whispering, "diabolical."

"Very," he whispered back, eyes still closed.

"Here they-oh!"

Gil resisted the urge to tell his brother - in every way that mattered - to fuck off and not wake his fiance. He held Thena firmly, determined to appear asleep.

"It's so sweet!"

"Let them rest, you two--Makkari, put the stick down!"

His youngest sister was no doubt about to poke him in the face with it. His sweet and elegant mother had raised a bunch of animals.

He only cracked his eyes open when he heard them padding away, complaining why he got to skip out on the party duties, like entertaining guests and cleaning up as things started coming to a close.

"We can't sleep in here all night, you know."

"Why not?" he grinned, immediately pulled back into the little world that was the high sides of the hammock bending around his weight. "It's comfy."

"I would hardly call this lumbar support," she argued, although he was pretty sure she wasn't that far from dozing off herself. "And what if it rains?"

"We're in the trees, it's fine," he laughed. They weren't exactly in the depths of the wooded area surrounding the house, but they were away from everything else enough that they weren't the easiest to find in here.

"Gil," she scolded, but made no attempt to get up, or even separate herself from him.

"Mom wouldn't let that happen," he reassured, although it made her go quiet again. "Fine, just a few more minutes."

"Five, not a second more."

"Deal," he smiled. She sounded like she did when they were at work. It felt so far away, they'd been here so long. Not that they didn't deserve the break. And Thena had even more paid time off than he did. He was pretty sure she never took a day off.

Unless she was sick. In which case he would rush home from work and cook up his most healing chicken soup and noodles for her.

Thena didn't stir as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. If anything, she nestled closer to him, "five minutes."

"Five minutes," he repeated, moving his lips down her cheek, closer to her lips. He didn't close the distance quite yet, but Thena didn't pull herself away either. And he didn't need the next five minutes to make his decision.

It was chaste, just the barest brushing of lips against lips. It was like a peck. Thena didn't make any sudden moves or any sounds at all. Only she could lie perfectly still and straight postured in a hammock. "Was that your attempt at bartering?"

He grinned, their heads still too close to really see each other, breath mixing and lips twitching to meet again. "Depends if it worked."

"No."

"Fine," he conceded, moving his hands to her cheeks. He gave her another little peck before she tucked herself into the crook of his neck again. This was just another couple-y thing to add to the list, apparently. Not that he minded.

[robotsafari]

i also watched the riku and terra limit cut scene and BOOOO THATS WAS SO NOTHINGBURGER AUUUGHH

[darnell-la]

𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧

pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader

warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.

request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.

note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.

teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…

———

How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.

“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.

“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.

“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”

“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.

“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.

“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.

“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.

“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.

Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt

“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.

“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.

“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.

He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.

Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.

“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.

Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.

“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.

“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.

“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.

“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.

“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.

“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.

“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.

“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.

“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.

“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.

Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.

It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.

He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.

“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.

Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.

“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.

Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.

The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.

Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.

Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.

Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.

“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.

“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.

“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.

Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.

Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.

“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.

“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.

She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.

“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.

“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.

Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.

The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.

The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.

“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.

Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.

Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.

[zephyrchama]

MC gifting the Obey Me! cast the same button-up shirts and asking them to wear it when they go out to dinner.

Mammon is the first to show up. He doesn't like to be away from you for extended periods of time keep you waiting, and he wants to get some use out of that fancy new shirt you gave him.

Leviathan is the next to arrive, wanting to cement himself in a seat before more people show up. He doesn't notice at first, but Mammon certainly does. Mammon is not very happy.

The two start bickering over free breadsticks as the twins walk in. Beelzebub is too distracted by the scent of appetizers to really care, but the situation gets a chuckle out of Belphegor. "You both look stupid," he tells Mammon and Leviathan.

They quip back, "Like you're one to talk!" and "You're wearin' the same thing, moron!"

"Shh, shh. It's funny. Be quiet, I think someone else is coming." At your behest, the table settles down.

Solomon's usual smug self is knocked down a peg when he sees everybody in the same attire. "I don't think this is mere coincidence," he surmises while taking a seat. "Did you give these to everyone?"

You nod, and finally Solomon smiles. "This will be good."

Within seconds of arrival, Satan is able to quickly connect the dots. He's not happy to be matching with Lucifer, but knows the look on the eldest's face will be worth it when he walks in and falls for the prank. Satan readies his phone camera to capture the occasion.

Simeon gets a good laugh when he shows up. Him and Luke are used to matching from time to time, but dressing up like the brothers reminds him of their days in the Celestial Realm. "I like your shirts," he jokes to an audience of eye rolls.

Luke presents you with a thank-you gift, a shirt he specially picked out for you. He understands though that everyone needs to match for this dinner, and eagerly awaits everyone else's reactions. Being included on these kinds of pranks is so much fun.

Asmodeus is temporarily stunned that you've managed to get everyone in matching outfits. They only humor him with such a treat once every handful of centuries. This is genius. After putting his things down he immediately gets to work adjusting buttons, smoothing collars, and demanding selfies. In the scramble to get the first of many group photos, Satan's phone is knocked out of his hand just as Lucifer walks in.

He's not alone though. The surprise was already foiled when Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer decided to come together. "I knew you were up to something," he sighs. Yet, he wore the shirt anyway. The three look like they've walked out of a commercial.

"What a wonderful surprise! This makes my new shirt even more special." Diavolo is clearly thrilled and more than happy to take selfies with Asmodeus while Barbatos asks the waiter for a round of drinks.

"That's cheating," Leviathan says. "You guys figured it out ahead of time."

"Unfair," Belphegor agreed. Satan just seethed quietly while waiting for his entree. He really thought Lucifer would be caught off guard this time.

"Good to know I pull it off best though." Mammon was confident in his looks and winked at his reflection in a spoon. Asmodeus scoffed, adding "in your dreams, maybe."

[kiwanopie]

Overnight Lovin’

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: smut, alcohol mention, oral sex(f!receving), dumbification, dirty talk, whipped!Kiyoomi, mutually cumdrunk, PnV sex, creampie. Minors do not interact.

wc: 3.2k

This is not your bedroom.

As much as you’d kill for it to be. Silk cotton stuffed duvet a rich maroon in accordance to equally as soft sheets. Carefully shined mahogany floors checkered in wine colored Persian, a bedroom that’s more fantasy love suite than any commonplace bedroom and fuck if this mattress isn’t like heaven to lay on.

But this isn’t your bedroom.

You point your nose to the oversized shirt flooding a little under your collarbones. It’s just a simple horror tee. Dark colored kanji hovering over an illustration of Jason half obscured by cartoon blood and soft to the cotton touch. It’s big enough to cover a good portion of your thighs that are… not dressed with anything. Huh. Yeah, you are- You feel up your modest covering with a quick pat down of your hands. - Completely naked under this. And honestly a little sore. A certain shift of your hips has your pelvic area throbbing back at you like it’s already tapping out, fingerprint bruises on your thighs that feel tender when you poke them; even your tits are sore - nipples perking under your shirt like they’ve already been prodded and played with. Whoever the hell you went home with last night gave you a run for your money.

Come to think of it, what the hell even happened last night? Last you remember you were twisting your hips against a bar stool while your college buddies raved on ecstasy and coke on the dance floor. — A Shirley temple was enough to start your party high without indulging in any illicit drugs, but you’ve never been much of a drinker. That fizzy cherry vodka already had you buzzing, a few more of those and who knows what’ll happen.

You bite your lip against the grain of new life and newer feelings of lechery. You look too good and too soft not to be bent over a sink somewhere.

“That sweet?” His voice turns your fine hairs into goosebumps. “Looks tasty.”

You gaze up at him with doey eyes so filled with mirth that it makes his palms sweat. “It is.”

You slide your bottom lip through your teeth. Voice as pretty as you are. “You want a sip?”

He’s the smell of Dior and vetiver as he lifts the glass cuplet out of your hands. “Sure.”

You don’t remember who he was or what he looked like but just the memory of his raspy voice turns your sore throbbing into a needy ache. — If the way the sink in his bathroom abruptly stops with a moment of sluggish shuffling, you’re about to find out who exactly it was that rocked your world last night.

You’re already looking up at him when the door opens with a neat click, his muscled limbs stretch his boxers in a way that can only be described as appetizing.

And then you get a good look at his face.

Oh. Holy shit.

There’s… That’s-… How? He looks exactly like he does on his team’s magazine covers. JSM’s top ten lists, Bungeishunjū, and news outlets that brandish his face for a chance at watchability. He’s even more handsome in person. Trademark resting bitch face does little to dilute how painfully attractive he is and if anything the intimidation factor is a bonus. As well as the fame, the money, and of course his position as one of the top most well known athletes in all of Asia.

His name precedes him, the renowned Olympic volleyball player feels even taller than the humble 6’4 his Wikipedia pages cite him as,

He’s Sakusa Kiyoomi.

If it weren’t for the disorienting confusion you may have screamed. This is the guy who fucked you last night within an inch of your life.

Your voice is a little raspy which is expected, but when you open your mouth your jaw is sore. “Ohayō Gozaimasu-“

He clears the floor from the bathroom to the bed in just a few footsteps, you can barely react when he’s grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up for a better angle.

And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss is slow and sensual, so sultry that you moan a little in his mouth and he breathes into it with a deep hum. He’s kissing you like he loves you, like he’s crazy about you and like he just can’t get enough. The current of the kiss follows a savory kind of spit swapping that turns your inner thighs misty, and he pulls away with a soft smack that all but leaves a gossamer trail.

His thumb rubs circles on the soft of your cheek. “Ohayō.”

Your heart skips at the little peck he leaves on your lips before finally pulling away.

He runs a large hand through his tousled hair as he moves for a dresser near the vanity. “I ordered us some breakfast that should be here within the hour,”

He pulls out a shirt. “I’d make you some breakfast from scratch but,” Sakusa tugs it over his head. “I figured it’d be cruel to subject you to my cooking this early on.”

You blow a humored breath out of your nose. “I appreciate the sentiment regardless,”

He approaches the bed again and sits himself down across from you, there are love bites on his neck that probably match yours. “I hope you slept well.” He hums. “I slept like a rock because of you, actually.”

Oh god, you don’t even wanna know what kind of raunchy shit you were up to last night.

“I slept like the dead.” You crawl up to him, he’s already opening his arms for you. “Whatever you did put me out like a light.”

You fit in his arms so well it’s almost scary, he wraps his arms around you like he might never let you go. “Uh, Sakusa-san?”

He furrows. “Last name?”

You smile apologetically. “Kiyoomi,” You correct yourself. “I don’t… remember a lot of last night. We came back here from the club, right?”

“You…?” Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “You don’t remember?”

“Not a lot.” You shake your head.

He frowns.

But even still his hand rubs fond lines up and down your back, still holding you just as faithfully, and looking up at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. “We marathoned a few drinks and then I had us dropped off at my place. I think… we started in the car, and then in my living room, and then the kitchen, the hallway, my bedroom finally; and then after a few hours we finished each other off in the shower. Around five we kissed until you eventually fell asleep.”

Kiyoomi traces the curves of your lips as he gazes fondly. “Last night was the best night of my life, I think. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with someone who could make me feel so good.” He proclaims. “I hope it’ll all come to you eventually, it was really something special.”

Well with the way he’s been treating you up to this point, it’s not like you’ll have a hard time believing that. Every earnest caress and look of adoration, the way his voice timbres into a loving hum, so smooth it makes you shiver. Hopefully those memories do come back at some point. You’ll never live it down if you actually missed the best night of your life.

You muse it with a little pout at the thought of that, Kiyoomi debates leaning forward and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Hopefully I do remember then. It sounds like we had a lot of fun,”

Your pout drops after a short moment of consideration and you lean in even closer. The soft tip of your nose grazes in feather strokes as you skim it over his and slowly ease your lips down the path way to his, tasting his shuddering breaths as you hover there for a few painful seconds. But he all but melts when you finally meet. A chaste lingering kiss at first, a few sensuous short ones; you do him the courtesy and suck his bottom lip in your mouth instead. — Letting it snap back before you’re starting a trail down his cheek and kissing up until you're nosing under his jaw, using your loving hand to tilt his head up and give you the access that you seek.

He could buy you a ring right now, he wouldn’t even regret it. You don't even remember what you two got up to last night and still you’re caressing him in a way that gives him goosebumps. If you keep this up, he might wind up funding your entire life.

You bring your head up again and pull him into another kiss. Slow and open mouthed, and he damn near purrs when you start pushing your fingers through his hair. “Regardless, you feel amazing.” You whisper against his lips.

God, you might be trying to kill him. “I wouldn’t mind a refresher if you’re up for it.”

He sighs through his nose as he ducks his head to burrow himself into the crevasse over your shoulder, already peppering in searing kisses down your throat. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Kiyoomi sucks in a love bite that makes you whimper so pretty. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good you can’t take it.”

With the way you’re already making a mess in his lap, you believe him.

—

He’s a good kisser.

Regardless of where his lips end up. He’s a little messy, a little heavy with tongue, slow when it matters and firm when it counts. He’s great with his mouth. Surprising since he’s known for being somewhat of a recluse in the opinion of the public eye. Some call him aloof, others call him cold, the majority call him intimidating, but right now what comes to your mind is giving.

The way he spits on your already messy pussy makes your eyes roll.

You inadvertently hump into his face as the combination of his tongue and fingers set the pit in your stomach ablaze. He’s fucking you with his mouth so thoroughly that the skewlch of your building arousal reverbates throughout the room. You almost feel bad about how much your thighs are all but compressing the sides of his head, but every effort to lighten up on him has him tightening his hold on you to keep him locked against your sloppy cunt.

You hiss through your teeth as your fingers card through his hair. “F-Fuck… Omi…!”

Kiyoomi moans against your clit at the wanton sound of your pitched voice. Airy, and breathy, and intoxicating. He’s grinding himself so desperately into the mattress that he’s sure he’s gone sticky.

The veins in his arms pop as he persistently fucks his fingers into your tight little hole, sloppily sucking your swollen clit as the way you roll your hips into his face drives him crazy. “You’re gonna make me cum…!” You whimper. “Fuck, Kiyoomi!”

That crude mixture of his spit and your cum is starting to form a little puddle under your backside, every bit of you he doesn’t get to swallow he doubles his efforts to drink you up sprucely.

Hearing you teeter over the edge makes him feel like he’s following close behind. Your moans are so astonishingly pretty that it’s turning his brain all fuzzy. “Ffffuck! Oh fuck. Oh my god, baby! Fuck-! I-I’m…I’m cumming…!”

Kiyoomi groans drunkenly into your cunt as it suckles on his fingers, he’s so determined to drink every last drop of your cum that he almost comes off as depraved. Lewdly slurping you up as the way he desperately sucks on your clit makes you whine into the air. Still indulging himself in your mess even as you whimper from overstimulation.

He only pulls away because the way you’re begging for him to fuck you is sending him into a frenzy. “Wan’ it so bad, Omi. Please? Do whatever you want to me. U-Use me up!”

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi hums into your mouth as you suck yourself off of his tongue. “Want me to use you? I’ll fuck you till you cry, you know.”

Your misty eyes make his heart skip, the way the head of his cock catches your entrance feels like stepping into heaven all over again. “Please, baby? Give it to me. ‘Wanna feel you inside!”

He gapes a little as he presses himself in, so overwhelmed that his head falls into your shoulder and it’s an effort for him not to outright cry out at how fucking unreal you feel.

He thinks he might just be falling in love with you. Having a pussy like this may just be a hazard for his mental health, there’s no way he’s letting this slip throughout his fingers. “Oh my god,” Kiyoomi chokes. “O-Oh my fucking god.”

“You feel… unbelievable, angel,” He starts his pace. God, fucking you is actually pushing him to the brink of insanity. “…oh my fucking-… s-so tight! So fucking wet for me, angel… holy shit…- you’re so good to me, baby.”

His breathless praises are sending you alight. He’s so deep in your guts that you’re sure you’d find a bulge if you looked down at where your bodies meet. “So good…! So, so good!”

The way you hold each other is so desperate and devoted that it feels biblical. “I can feel you in my stomach, Omi… So deep…! Y-You’re… too deep!”

Kiyoomi grunts as he pushes himself in to the hilt and holds himself there for a blissful second. Grinding his hips in shallow circles that make you choke on your tongue, but you barely know the half of until he’s lifting up one of your legs.

And then the other, lifting on his knees till he’s hovering over your pretty face, - and then he starts pistoning.

The way your face contorts from a flustered glimmer of welling tears to a blissed out gape that cutens as your tears fall is enough to make his balls feel tight enough to burst. Never mind how fucking amazing this new angle is, watching you lose your mind under him as those pretty tits move to the current of his thrusts is making his brain feel all cloudy. — He’s sure the eye contact he’s keeping is transparent in the fact that he’s turned a little love drunk. Ducking his head to press tempered kisses on your throat, but he can’t help himself from the way his lips skim up to your ear and his mouth moves without him really thinking about it.

It’s a pleasure induced haze, he’s sure. But he can’t be forgiven for the absolute filthy things he’s saying to you.

“You hear that?” He drags in a few particularly forceful thrusts that make you sob so prettily for him. “You’re really soaking me up, huh.”

“Is it that good? You feel me deep in your tummy?” Kiyoomi swivels his hips. “S-Shit. What a pretty fucking noise that just was. Fuck, baby. - Oh, are you crying?”

“Too much?” But even still he presses more of his weight on you until every thrust is hitting you to the hilt. So deep that every other press of his hips forces a yip out of you that makes his face hot. — He’s really starting to think he might be ruined for anyone else at this point.

“You’re g’nna take it for me anyway though, huh? Slutty baby… You’re gonna let me fuck you brain dead? Fuck you till you’re all stupid for me?”

You sound as far gone as he is. “Y- Yes! Yes!”

“Yeah, that’s it, angel. Such a… fuck… good fucking girl for me.”

You must be close to cumming cause you’re really starting to milk him for all he’s worth. Sucking him back in every time he pulls away and every moment he continues to fuck into you you only get tighter.

He’s losing his mind. “Ohhh fuck. Fuck! I swear to god I’m gonna break you. G’nna - shit - gonna fuck you till you’re all mine, yeah? H-Holy shit-“

Kiyoomi groans at the way your fingernails start to dig groves into his back. “Mhm. Mark me up, angel. Wanna see you all over me when we’re done.”

You grab a helping of his hair and hold on to it for dear life, you’re drooling at this point. “Oh my god… oh m’ god, Kiyoomi… I’m- I’m gonna make a mess!”

“Yeah?” Which obviously means he’s reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit. “Gonna make a mess? Wanna soak me in your pretty cum?”

“Give it to me then, baby. I’ll fill you up so good when you do.”

You croon in his ear and it sounds like gospel.

And then you’re soaking the bed with your cum.

Kiyoomi doesn’t let up even as your juices wet down his pelvis and legs. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts or the rhythm he’s keeping on your clit, still whispering words of filth and praise in your ear, — and it looks like you’ve completely lost yourself to the pleasure at this point. The way his name is clipping so desperately off your tongue is making his eyes roll into his head. And it’s just a few more moments of fucking into your spasming pussy till he’s following you off the edge.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” He hisses. “Mmmh - Oh fuck, baby. I’m cumming… f-fuck! I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Oh god, even after last night there’s still so much of it. So much and so hot. Just the feeling of clenching on his hot cum as he continues to fuck into you is sending you over the edge again. God, the sounds you’re both making. Thank goodness his penthouse is big enough to not worry about disturbing any of his neighbors, reinforced flooring probably snuffing out the sound of your debauched love making. He’s never been the most vocal in bed but you’re making him whine into your ear like a cheap whore. And the sounds you’re making - Fuck, the sounds you’re making, he wouldn’t be surprised if he turned his head and found the decorative plants near his terrace sprouting flowers. It shouldn’t even be possible to sound that fucking good and feel this fucking amazing all at once.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even realize that bed making firm clicks into the wall until he starts to slow up his thrusts. Gradually coming down from his high until his desperate movements become slow and sensuous grinding, still rocking into you even as you settle again in his arms.

He lifts his head to bring you into a lazy kiss, a little sloppy, a little butterfly inducing.

You sigh into his lips. “…Holy shit.”

Kiyoomi pulls away to press a few slow kisses into your jaw. “I think I just might be addicted to you.”

“You’re telling me…” You cross your legs over his back. “Is it too early to suggest we go steady?”

He snorts a little. “As if I’m letting you go anywhere after that.”

Kiyoomi raises his back to gingerly kiss you on the lips, so tender it feels loving. Even as he pulls away he seems ailed by it. He is ailed by it. He can’t even imagine how he’ll fare when he has to get up eventually.

His breath is warm against your lips. The way he speaks to you feels reverent. “You’re stuck with me now.”

You smile. And he goosebumps. “Aren’t I lucky then?”

reblog uwu?

[theostrophywife]

le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight. 

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure. 

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when. 

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in. 

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory. 

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom. 

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in. 

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list. 

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night. 

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.  

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle. 

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it? 

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you. 

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. 

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs. 

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm. 

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched. 

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus. 

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.” 

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.” 

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.” 

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.” 

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.” 

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?” 

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.” 

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?” 

“It would be my genuine pleasure.” 

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.” 

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?” 

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?” 

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.” 

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?” 

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours. 

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.” 

“What happened?” 

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it. 

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.” 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?” 

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.” 

“A list?” 

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.” 

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?” 

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.” 

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.” 

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.” 

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.” 

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.” 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.” 

“Then who is the real you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”  

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?” 

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.” 

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval. 

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.” 

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?” 

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.” 

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?” 

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.” 

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?” 

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?” 

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.” 

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work. 

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.” 

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.” 

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.” 

“I—we’ve never been introduced—” 

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.” 

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.” 

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples. 

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was. 

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.” 

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content. 

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin. 

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

[writersdrug]

My brain is open to your bartender Ghost thoughts

Give me them all 🙏

Lordy this au isn't even an hour old and I have so many thoughts

He doesn't really know what to expect when you come in the morning after the interview. At eight am sharp, he watches as you trudge inside, wearing ripped tights, shorts, knock off combat boots, and a baggy shirt that's messily tucked into your waistline. It looks like you had put on eye liner last night and gone to bed, black lines smudged in a perfect "bedhead" look.

"Really?" He asks, arms folded and muscles buddging. "Come t' the interview in a skirt 'n dress shirt, n' show up t' the first shift lookin' like a wannabe biker chick?"

You scoff, pulling your hair up into a bun. "Didn't realize I'd be walking into the asscrack of "The Devil Wears Prada"..."

He huffs and shakes his head. You hve tough skin - good.

He had Soap come in early that day - poor man usually worked between 4 pm 'til whenever Ghost decided to close. He's still rubbing his eyes and yawning when a pen and spiral notepad are shoved into your hands, Simon pushing you towards towards the cook's table with a hand on your back.

"Hey, welcome to the 141." You say, no attempt at politeness in your tone. Ghost huffs fondly, appreciating how you cut through the bullshit. "Any appetizers today?"

"None o' that keech," Soap says, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching his brow. "Canna have a rusty nail 'n th' smash grunded, wel doon 'n with the bun scud - cannae stand th' aoli. Chips oan the side."

You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief, before turning to Ghost. "Do they all sound like that?"

He grunts. "If they're drunk."

"Are you drunk?" You ask Soap.

"Feck if I know, tryin' tae figure it oot myself." He groans.

Ghost helps you decipher the words Soap had vomited out. You successfully punch it into the POS, only needing a few pointers from the giant over your shoulder. For the rest of the morning amd afternoon, he taeaches you which button on the soda gun was which, the difference between tonic water and club soda, how to run the industrial sanitizer - with a "ye best make sure that shite is rinsed 'fore ye stick em in there" from Soap - where the new kegs go when Gaz brings them in, where to find napkins and condiments in the walkin, how to cut fruit for the bar, and lastly, how to split your tips.

"But why do I have to pay you?" You ask Ghost, sitting at a table with your calculator app on your phone and a basket of fries between the two of you. "You make loads of tips just pouring liquor."

He chuckles, watching you pop a fry into your mouth. "'N you get a cut of sales from the kitchen, since you're part of it."

You perk up at that. "I do?"

"Seven percent." He confirms. "A decent payout on weekends."

"And Soap doesn't get tips."

"Johnny boy gets paid by th' hour."

"I don't?"

"If ya do well enough, ya won't have to." He says, resting his meaty forearms on the table. "You'll be walkin' out with hundreds."

You chew your lip nervously; Simon's eyes linger on the movement, shifting his weight - the polyester seat creaks beneath him as he observes you fretting silently, the silence only broken by the sound of Soap prepping in the kitchen. "Don' worry too much 'bout it. You're young - jus' keep a smile on 'n you'll be fine. Soap 'n I got your back tonight, but I'm not pickin' up your slack after the week passes."

The fry you're steering towards your mouth falls to the table as Simon stands up. "Tonight?!" You exclaim, shimmying out of the booth.

"Yep. Sixteen hundred."

You glance at your phone. "That's in an hour!" There are kegs stacked by the front door, unpolished and enrolled silverware on the bar top, and half of the chairs are still stacked on the countertops.

"Best get to work then, hmm?" Ghost says, grabbing a container of lemons and moving behind the bar.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Bully- Part 1

Summary: Your bully's, Gojo and Geto, find out an embarrassing secret of yours and will never let you live it down. But maybe, you don't want them to.

Disclaimer: 18+ fic. Gojo X Fem reader X Geto. Humiliation kink. Free use kink. Gojo and Geto being mean. Bully Geto and Gojo. Dub-con warning. It is subtly implied that reader wants and enjoys what's happening to her, but the boys don't care to ask for consent.

a/n: Sorry it took so long wah but here's part one to the series. I plan to write many more cause damn it is so fun haha. I promise, the next part will have all the gratuitous smut and ruthless fucking this premise deserves. Consider this an appetizer <3

Taglist: @bisexuawolfsalt @candycandy00 @nekonanamii @sirimiripetrichor @collectionofdolls @dreamsxmerci

You sighed as you walked towards your classroom, dragging your feet, knowing full well what was waiting for you. It was the end of the day and it was your turn to clean up the classroom and just your luck- you were paired up with the two people you couldn't stand.

Gojo and Geto. The two 'strongest' sorcerers of your school. Their reputation preceded them. One of them was the prodigal son of a famous family with a deadly technique while the other had an incredibly useful and powerful skill as well. Everyone disliked them to some extent, but nobody could deny that the Jujutsu world would be worse without them.

Which is why it always confused you as to why these two powerful men seemed to love bullying you.

They were never malicious but damn if they weren't annoying. They loved to tease and prank you, joking about how weak you were and how you couldn't do anything by yourself. Forget the fact that you were actually quite strong and capable- but compared to them- everyone was weak.

But they seemed to enjoy bullying you especially even if there were classmates who were of lower grade than you. Stealing your drink right before you were going to take it from the vending machine, taking unflattering pictures of you and distributing it, embarrassing you in front of strangers by treating you like a dumb baby in front of them, making loud sex noises if you were on the phone with someone, tossing away your books and stealing your money-

Gojo spanking your ass casually a few times, Geto licking off some chocolate that was smeared next to your lips like it was a normal thing to do and even that one time when they cornered you in the hallway and convinced you to let them grope your boobs:

"If you let us squeeze your tits, we'll leave you alone for a week~" Gojo had said, wangling his fingers comically as they both stared at your chest like perverts. The offer was too good to give up which led to them squeezing your clothed tits for ten second each before they left, laughing at how easy it was to use you. And of course, they continued to bother you anyway.

You could have made a complaint to the higher ups about their behavior, something your friends have told you to do but you refused. You didn't want to be the wuss who was running to the elders over something so childish when everyone has an important job to do. Dealing with some bullying was easy compared to fighting to the death with some curses.

Besides, if you reported on them...

You steeled yourself before opening to the door to the classroom, met with the sight you expected: Gojo and Geto, lounging around, not doing any work as they waited for you to do it for them because, in their words: 'the weaklings need to put in more effort'.

But what you were not expecting to see was your phone in Gojo's hand using earplugs that he had connected to the device. You knew you left your phone in the locker assigned to you in the hallways which meant these two managed to pick the lock and take it. But the anger over that was dwarfed by your sudden realization:

The way they were looking at you as you closed the door, giving you a shocked look but you could tell there was an underlying hint of pure glee.

Uh oh.

"Give me back my-"

You yelped as Geto suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, barely giving you a second to collect yourself before he wrapped his arms around your neck, catching you in a choke-hold. Before you could even react, he pulled your back against him and manhandled you as he sat on a classroom bench and forced you to sit between his legs, wrapping said legs around you. You were completely caught, your nails doing nothing even as you dug it into his arms.

"Holy fuck!" Gojo explained, eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as he continued to listen to the audio on your phone, looking over at you and Geto opposite of the table he was sitting on, "You're a perverted freak, aren't you?"

"Give it back!" you snapped, grunting in annoyance as you tried to break out of Geto's hold but the man simply laughed as he held you tighter, his legs not budging.

"This is some nasty stuff!" Gojo continued, "Who knew a weakling like you would be such a masochistic slut~" he removed the earbuds from the socket and increased the volume as he confirmed what you had feared:

"Yeah? you like that don't you? Little slut~" a man's voice echoed throughout the room from your phone speakers, "Everybody looking at you as I fuck this sloppy little pussy~ Oh this cunt is dripping for me- did you like being spanked in front of them so much?"

It was an erotic audio you had saved on your phone, one of many that you enjoyed in private. You had even saved it under non-suspicious names which meant that the boys were digging through your files to find something- and they did.

"This isn't even the only one we heard, you know." Gojo explained as he dangled the phone in front of you mockingly, "What was it again? A girl getting humiliated by her teacher in front of her classmates-"

"A girl getting groped by her boyfriend on a crowded train." Geto recollected, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath dance against your skin.

"Being used as a free-use toy by a group of guys~" Gojo said, a giant shit eating grin on his face, "Seems like this one has a humiliation kink~"

"I'm not surprised." Geto said, leaning into your ear and blowing into it, making you gasp and jump, "No wonder she never reported us to the principle for all the times we preyed on her. She was probably enjoying it."

"Oh!" Gojo said like he just realized it, "Was that why? Was your pussy growing wet every time we bullied you, little slut?"

"Fuck you." you spat out, both of the men laughing in response.

"Yeah, I bet you wanted us to fuck you." Geto growled into your ear, your shiver not going unnoticed by him, "You're fucking loving this~"

"Why don't we check?" Gojo suggested, cutting off anything you might have said, his hands inching towards your belt, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "Let's see for ourselves if we made your pussy wet~"

"Gojo-"

"That's a great plan!" Geto interrupted, laughing as he tightened his hold your your neck, making you gasp, "Take those pants off. So baggy and loose- what a waste of a nice ass."

"I agree." Gojo said, finger now running over the metal of your belt, "it hides so much. With what I felt everytime I've spanked you- your pants do you no favors."

"Don't you- fucking dare!" You choked out, face turning slightly red from the lack of air and from Gojo slowly starting to fiddle with your belt.

"Oh, what are you gonna do about it, little slut?" Gojo teased, licking his lips as his long, lithe fingers started to tug at the leather of your belt, "Look at your fucking face- that look in your eyes? You're loving this."

"No- I'm not- fuck-" you sputtered out, failing to convey your frustrations. You couldn't stand these two assholes. Constantly picking on you and thinking they were so high and mighty- treating you like a bug on their path. So smug and narcissistic and not caring about anyone but themselves-

But as much as you'd hate to admit it, you couldn't deny that your body was throbbing. Everytime they bullied you, you felt that heat. Your heart-rate quickened and your pussy would grow wet, leaving you a confused mess every-time you got bullied. When it first happened, you didn't understand what was happening. Through some internet searching, you found those audios and realized you weren't the only one out there.

A masochist with a humiliation kink.

And without them knowing, the two guys you hate were fulfilling those fantasies for you.

Well now, they were more than aware.

"Come on, little bitch~" Geto cooed into your ear, his silky voice making you shudder, "Why settle with these audios when you can experience the real thing?"

"I...I..." you panted, heat rushing to your face and your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel your pussy dampen and had no doubt that if Gojo actually took your pants off, they'd see you be wet and needy.

"Too slow~" Gojo suddenly said, unbuckling your belt in a matter of seconds before ripping it off of you just as fast, throwing it aside. You yelped as you instinctively struggled, Geto laughing behind you as he tightened his hold on you even more, rendering you helpless. Gojo laughed as well, his bright blue eyes peeking from behind his glasses as you could see the gleam of excitement in them.

"You excited, little bitch?" Gojo cooed, licking his lips as his hands started trailing up your leg, running over the fabric of your pants as he inched up higher and higher. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat coursing through you.

"He asked you a question." Geto said, clicking his tongue as you refused to say anything, "Weren't you taught any manners?"

"Fucking- i'll kill you-" you gasped out, face growing redder as you heard Geto's growl of annoyance, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. "Don't worry about it, Suguru." Gojo said, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your pants, "We can punish her later for her disrespect. For now, I just want to get at this pussy~"

With a big grin, Gojo ripped your pants off of you in one fell swoop, making you squeal as he tossed it away. You shivered as your bare legs were exposed to the evening air as well as their lecherous stares. You could see Gojo's eyes trail up your legs before zoning in on your clothed pussy, the man letting out a snort as he took in your panties.

"Pink with a bow on? Really?" he joked, "how plain and not sexy."

"I think they're cute." Geto chimed in, also shamelessly staring down at your clothed cunt, "But it doesn't matter. It's not going to be on her for long, anyway."

"True." Gojo said with a nod as he hooked his finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled it out before letting go, allowing the elastic to slap back against you, "but next time, wear something sexier."

"I hate you- so much!" you snarled, face bright red, biting your lower lip as the white haired man looped his fingers back into the waistband of your panties, this time, very obviously wanting to get it off of you. You gasped, unable to stop your shivers as Gojo leaned forward and placed a kiss on your tummy, his tongue peeking out to lick at your skin as he slowly starting pulling your panties down. He laughed as you tried to squiggle out but your movements only made the slide of your panties all the more easier for him.

"Look at that~" Gojo gasped as your cunt got exposed, practically drooling as he stared like a pervert, a twinkle behind his blue eyes, "You might be a weakling but atleast you have a pretty pussy."

"Atleast she's good for something~" Geto teased, shuffling behind you and in that moment, you felt it. Something long, hard and thick pressed up against your back and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that was. You gulped as you felt the imprint of Geto's cock against you, unable to help yourself as your eyes darted towards the front of Gojo's pants and sure enough: His erection was straining against it.

They were too focused on your cunt to notice where you were looking and you were too focused on their dicks to notice that your panties were now completely off and that Gojo had tossed the fabric aside. Geto immediately hooked his legs over your own before forcefully spreading them apart, leaving you wide and exposed to their perverted gazes. Gojo let out a whistle as he dragged a chair over before sitting on it, his face now right across your bare cunt.

"Fuck- fuck you- fuck you!" you gasped out and cursed, feeling lightheaded from the situation. "How does she look?" Geto asked, both of them ignoring you and you could hear the hunger in his voice and the sensation of his cock twitching against you. "Oh, she's perfect~" Gojo responded and you knew they were referring to your pussy as its own person- somehow giving it more praise and respect than they've ever given you, "And oh so wet~"

"I want to see." Geto demanded, not having the same view as Gojo, "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Sure thing, pal." Gojo said, not taking his eyes off of your pussy as he continued to stare, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Gojo- don't you dare-" You barked out, understanding what he was going to do- but what you hoped sounded aggressive came out soft and subservient. The man simply snorted in response, ignoring your pleas as he opened up his phone camera and started taking pictures of your pussy. You shut your eyes and squealed everytime you heard the shutter of the camera, trembling body still held tightly in Geto's arms.

"Her hole clenches every-time I take a picture~" Gojo cooed, bringing a hand up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart even more, making your back arch against Geto, "And look at this little clit! So fucking cute!"

"Just show it to me already!" Geto snarled, impatient. "Alright, alright." Gojo responded with a roll of his eyes, standing up before turning the phone towards the two of you, a shot of your spread pussy on screen. You turned your head away and closed your eyes, ears ringing at how humiliated you felt-

and pussy dripping at how good it was.

"Oh, she does look delicious!" Geto praised, gripping your chin as he forced you to turn your head back towards the phone, making you look at the picture, "You have such a pretty cunt and you hid it from us for so long?"

You whined cutely as you looked at the picture- a closeup shot of your spread cunt with a clear view of your clit and hole, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Seriously!" Gojo barked as he started swiping, showing off the various photos of your pussy that were now in his possession, "If we knew all you wanted was some fucking, we'd have pounded this pussy ages ago! I've always wanted a sex toy."

"Don't you have like a dozen already?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure this bitch's cunt will feel way better than some silicone~"

"I hate you-" you gasped out, any and all fight leaving your bones (not that there was much to begin with) as you leaned your head against Geto's shoulder, "I hate you both- so much-"

"Yeah?" Geto asked, the tone in his voice clearly indicating that he wasn't taking you seriously, "Well, this pussy says otherwise."

He let go of your chin and snaked his hand down quickly to cup your pussy, making you yelp. You didn't know if what you felt was shame or relief that there was finally a hand on your cunt- finally some friction against your dripping womanhood. You tossed your head back, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped under your teeth as Geto's long fingers started gliding through your pussy lips. The slick sound of him rubbing circles over your hole and collecting your wetness echoed through the room, the sound making your ears burn and your chest feel like it was on fire.

This is was so...so...

so fucking fun...

"She's loving this~" Gojo predicted accurately, eyes darting between your blissful expression and Geto's fingers toying with your body, "Fucking whore- slutty bitch- oh, we are going to have fun with you~"

"Her pussy is growing wetter by the second." Geto noted, cock fully erect and throbbing against you, his other arm slowly letting go of the hold around your neck, confident that you were going to stay right there like a good little girl. You gasped as the head spinning pressure was finally off of you, taking in a few deep breaths but choking on it just as quickly as the man started using his slick covered fingers to run circles over your clit.

"You're dripping all over the table, little bitch~" Gojo teased, taking a couple more pictures before pocketing it, "Fuck- let me feel too- or- actually-"

He sat back on the chair, pulling it closer before gripping your thighs, an eager grin on his face:

"I'm gonna eat~"

"Get used to this, little bitch." Geto growled into your ear, pulling his hand away from your cunt and snickering at your whine of disappointment, "You're our toy now and we are going to do whatever we want to you, understand?"

His hands came upto your chest, lithe fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, revealing a patch of skin before the peeks of your bra. Gojo licked his lips and moved forward, his hot breath fanning against your slick cunt.

"Whatever. We. Want."

[yawnderu]

Based on this ask I got a while back, but I can't stop thinking about red panda hybrid!reader with the entire 141 :((

Jumpy little thing, climbing trees all day and acting annoyed and moody when they try to join you unless they have food on them. Their favorite view is seeing your face light up from its usual pout the second you smell any fruit on them, rapidly climbing down head-first before jumping on them once it's safe enough, trusting that they'll catch you— and they always do.

Simon can be a bit mean sometimes simply because he secretly thinks you're the cutest thing ever, holding up sliced apples in his hand as you attempt to climb his body like a tree, using every single inch of fabric and gear that your paws can touch.

Price's favorite thing is to keep you seated on his lap while he takes care of paperwork, having a plate of fruit that he personally handfeeds you, teaching you how to be patient even when all you want to do is dig your pretty face on the plate of berries. Sometimes the urges win, leaving you with hiccups from eating so fast, and earning you a knowing look from him.

Gaz and Soap like to try climbing with you, although you're much more agile and rarely wait for them. They're usually unable to keep up, simply opting to have chats under the shade of the tree while you nap, arms, legs, and an adorably bushy tail dangling from the tree.

Being the youngest men from the Task Force, of course they have needs. It's an agreement they discussed a while before your heat, keeping their time with you calm and relaxed. You don't even have to tell them you're in heat— they know.

It starts with you becoming needier, sometimes getting aggressive and easily agitated, yet keeping your desperate eyes on them even when you climbed the tree to isolate, blaming it on them being annoying. They persuade you down with food, holding an appetizing apple that makes your stomach rumble, climbing down quickly just for them to take turns sitting you on their laps, hard cocks grinding against your needy cunt even when you try to focus on the food.

[sailorholly]

Appetizer

Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist Here

“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.

The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.

You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.

When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.

“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.

Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.

You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.

The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.

The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.

You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.

Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.

Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.

The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.

Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”

“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.

After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.

Tags

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3

[1d1195]

Sunflower

~7.2 k words

From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).

Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.

Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.

“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”

Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.

If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.

“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.

Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.

Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”

The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.

Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.

“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”

“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”

Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.

“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.

This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.

There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.

“Harry?” Mitch asked.

“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.

Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.

“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.

“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”

When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.

So he couldn’t even look at her.

Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”

“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.

“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.

“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”

Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”

“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.

“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”

And you, Harry thought.

“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.

“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.

“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”

Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.

“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.

He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.

Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”

“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.

He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”

Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.

Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”

Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.

Hopefully.

*

Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.

“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.

“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.

Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.

It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.

“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”

“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.

If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.

What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?

Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.

So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”

“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”

Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.

*

“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.

How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.

Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.

“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.

“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.

Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.

Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.

“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.

“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.

“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.

“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.

“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”

Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”

“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.

“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.

“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.

Her.

“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.

“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.

Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.

All of which was ridiculous.

And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.

*

Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.

He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.

Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”

“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”

“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.

Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”

“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.

Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”

“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.

She did.

The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”

Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”

“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.

She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”

“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.

The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”

“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”

He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.

*

When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.

Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”

“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”

The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.

Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.

She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.

“Good, how are you?” He answered.

“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”

“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”

She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.

“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.

“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.

*

She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.

She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.

It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.

His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.

She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”

She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.

She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”

“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.

She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”

Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.

She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”

He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”

“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.

“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.

“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.

“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.

“The love of her life,” Niall told him.

“Shut up, Niall.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”

“I’m a bit busy right now.”

“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.

“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.

Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.

“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.

“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.

“Uh—”

“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.

She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.

It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.

Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”

Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.

She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.

“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”

“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”

“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.

“—and he might know someone for an internship.”

Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”

“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.

“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.

“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.

“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.

“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.

“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.

“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”

“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.

Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”

“He’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.

“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.

She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.

Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”

“Why would he think that?”

“I mean, I did call you my wife.”

Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”

Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”

“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.

She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.

*

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”

Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.

“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.

“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.

“Just because you’re jealous—”

“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.

“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”

Like clockwork.

Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.

“I might be jealous,” he admitted.

“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”

“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”

“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”

Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.

“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”

It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.

Could it?

*

Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”

But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.

He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.

“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.

Harry was going to fire her.

It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.

She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.

“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”

Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.

“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”

“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.

“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.

Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”

“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.

Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.

He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”

She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”

“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”

Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.

“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.

“But... you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”

She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”

He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.

Then finally, Harry spoke again.

"Would you like t'go out with me?"

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[charliemwrites]

Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

Content:Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[mattslolita]

make u cum - c. sturniolo

in which ... your boyfriend looked so hot on the game, you couldn't resist sucking him off while he played. ( bf!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; oral ( male receiving ), cum eating, slight exhibitionism, soft!dom!chris

"𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌, 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

sitting on your boyfriend's bed while he streamed with his brothers wasn't for the weak — in truth, it was completely harmless. they'd been playing fortnite duos for quite some time, but you were beginning to become restless at the sight of chris.

his brown hair was tousled across his forehead, a small slick of sweat connecting it as his muscles flexed whilst he hit the controls on they keyboard — his tongue darted out to wet his lips before biting them furiously, and it was driving you mad.

but the worse part?

every time he'd get mad after losing, his hand would come crashing down on the table in front of him, the muscles in his arm prominent and you had to squeeze your thighs together because all you wanted was his arms wrapped around you while he fucked you.

but the thought of sucking him off while played was much more appetizing in the moment, and now you were determined to make it happen.

"fuck!" chris yells, banging a fist on the table, shaking his head as he looks at the screen with a death glare, "matt, c'mon man, pay attention!"

you crawled off the bed, biting your lip as you drop to your knees and crawl towards where chris sat in his gaming chair. thankfully because of issues with his camera, chris's camera remained off so the stream wouldn't be able to see what you were doing, either. you slowly made your way on the other side of the desk, crawling into the empty space and settling yourself right between chris's legs.

you bit your lip as you sat up, your legs perched under your knees as you hook your hands onto his legs and try to pry them apart.

"hold up," chris says, having felt you finally. he mutes his mic, before leaning back and looking down at you under the table, "baby, what're you doin' down there?"

"y'look so good, i jus' wan' a taste," you whine, pouting your bottom lip as you stare at him with sultry eyes.

his jaw ticks and he prods his tongue inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at you. "now y'know i'm streaming right now, 'kay? how bout' you wait and we can take care of this when i'm finished?"

"can't wait," you mumble, biting your lip as you look down at the now semi bulge forming in his pants. it causes a small smirk to tug at your lips as your eyes slowly move back up to him.

"fine," chris grunts, hurriedly shoving his pants down shaking his head and mumbling curses under his breath, "wan' suck my cock so bad? fine. better keep quiet down there, y'know what happens when you don' listen."

excitement courses through you as his boxers are slid down next, just below his ankles — your mouth waters at his now fully erect cock, licking with precum. you slide in between his thighs, gripping them as you let out a whimper.

"fuck are you waitin' for?" chris grunts under his breath at you, thrusting himself at you, causing you to giggle slightly.

you took his length in your hand, slowly pumping him up and down causing him to let out a groan — your mouth watered as you watched yourself stroke him slowly, smearing the precum all over the base of his cock.

"shit," chris half moans under his breath when he feels you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock.

"s'wrong with you, chris?" matt questions his brother from the other end, causing you to smirk against him.

"no-"

before chris could fully form a response another groan is ripped from his throat when you take his cock into your mouth, your lips hitting his pelvis as you deep throat him. his hand immediately goes down to grip your locs, head thrown back freely as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down.

"bro chris you're actin' weird as fuck," matt says again, small grunts leaving chris's lips as he struggles to focus on the game.

"s-shut the fuck up," chris groans back, gently thrusting his hips into you as you continue bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

matt scoffs on the other end, and you can feel chris's grip on your locs tighten as he thrusts up into your mouth harder — you gag around him, tears filling up your waterline as you keep your hands glued to his thighs. his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust he sends your way, and you can already tell you're gonna be sore by the time he finishes. you hadn't even noticed chris completely mute his mic as he releases low moans whilst he forces your head down deeper, nose rubbing against his pelvic bone.

"fuck, fuck, s'good girl," chris moans, head thrown back as drool forms at the crease of your mouth.

you moaned around his cock, feeling your panties dampen as he continued his assault on your throat. "s'close mama. fuck, gonna cum..."

chris's legs spasmed around you and you felt his cock twitch inside of you, signaling how close he was — he was finally sent over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

chris pulled your head back, his hand going down to stroke his cock as hot white ropes of his cum shot down your throat whilst you sat on your knees with your mouth wide open. his thrown back as his chest heaved up and down, milking himself completely dry.

"swallow," he demanded, eyes narrowed into slits. he watched intently as you swallowed every drop, licking your lips with a grin as you stared up at him. "thas' a good girl."

you crawled from under the desk, and stood in front of chris, dipping down to capture his lips in a kiss — he tastes himself on your mouth, and you slip your tongue into his mouth. you sucked on his tongue before pulling away, sucking on his bottom lip with a pop as a string of saliva connects you both.

"jus' wait till i get off this game."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

i know its not chris & bambi, but i fear this was supposed to come out back when chris & matt first started streaming😩😩 hope y'all enjoyed this, i love you all forever. 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous

[selineram3421]

*watching Hazbin Hotel and sees this deer man kicking his feet* I must have this in a fic!

Lovesick Alastor

Alastor X Reader

Warning ⚠

⚠ The tale of the Radio Demon falling in love. Blood, possessive, obsessive, yandere coded Alastor ⚠

Alastor had felt indifferent to romance for years.

What a silly thing! It was too stupid, dangerous, something that can turn you into a fool and get you killed.

Yes, he stayed cleared of it in life and in Hell.

That is until he got to know you.

You.

A lovely demon that is passionate in everything they do. A strong, powerful, and loving person who can be a bit of a klutz at times.

The first time he met you, you were dancing and singing to a song playing on the phonograph, the vinyl having a very energizing tune.

Rosie had sent him to you to try and start up a deal. You were starting up a shop nearby the colony and needed help getting your footing into the door. Your store was lacking in attention.

The perfect person to get a soul from.

Something held him back though. He just had to get to know the demon that tripped over their feet when spotting him.

"Falling for me already?", he joked.

But it was him who fell first.

You shined so brightly, how could he not?

Instead of having your soul the Radio Demon set out to have your heart.

Rosie was surprised that her friend did not make a deal and questioned him, curious with the change.

"Alastor, you never turn down a deal! Especially when this one is so easy.", she put down her tea cup, setting it down on the saucer.

"It's nothing to be concerned about, really. I just found something better.", he grinned and ate an appetizer.

"Hmm, alright. If you say so.", she let it drop for now.

Alastor paid a visit to your shop everyday.

He helped you renovate, pick out the best products for you to sell, and even had the pleasure to celebrate the first official opening.

Your shop was that of knick-knacks, it had things for customization. Mostly for anniversaries, birthdays, and celebration sorts. Doing things like engraving, embroidery, and carving.

One day you gave him a gift of his own.

"I wanted to thank you for all the help you've given me over the past few months.", you smiled and gently placed a small round box in his hand. "I hope you like it."

"Oh! And what is this?", he said and opened it, hearing music and a small smoke figures rising from the box to dance.

He noticed that the figure looked a lot like him and you, which got his dead heart to skip.

"This is wonderful."

Alastor looked up from the box and saw you beaming with joy.

"I'm so glad you like it!"

"No darling, I love it.", he corrected and took your hand. "If my guess is right, might I have the pleasure of courting you?"

"Only if you are true.", you squeezed his hand.

"Nothing but for you.", he lifted your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

After that he quickly went to Rosie and almost kicked the door down.

"I have news!"

"Don't you kick my door!", his friend walked over to greet him.

The Radio Demon's smile was wide and he had an extra bounce in his step.

"I have news."

"You've said that already.", Rosie guided him over to her office.

After settling in, she sat down and patted the seat next to her. "Now, tell me what's got you so theatrical. Not that you aren't but this is more than usual."

"I can't sit now! I have to prepare!", the red dressed demon exclaimed. "I've begun courting someone and they've already given me a gift. I must return that tenfold! No! A hundred times more! A thousand! Millions!"

Rosie gasped and stood in shock.

"You? In love? I never thought I'd see the day!"

Alastor quickly turned towards the door. "I need to get them flowers!"

The woman quickly put a stop to his rambling.

"Now hold on old boy.", she sat him down. "Have you given thought to what they like the most? Surely you must have more ideas than just the old rose bouquet."

"Of course!", he laughed and pulled out a list from his chest pocket.

Once getting the all clear from his friend, and more ideas for gifts and actions, he took off to get something that would make you happy.

Alastor did everything and more.

Spoiling you with anything you could ever desire. Of course, this also caught the attention of his rival.

"When the fuck did this happen!?", Vox stared at the distorted screen.

It was a picture of the Radio Demon and a lovely looking thing on his arm.

"Don't know but its what Velvette found while scrolling.", Valentino said while cleaning his gun. "They don't look that entertaining."

The next day you found the underling of T.V. Overlord in your shop.

"Hello? Is there something you'd like to place an order on?", you asked walking over.

"Hello! My boss sent me here.", they handed a clipboard to you. "Please sign here for the package."

"Package? I didn't buy anything.", you said confused.

"Something was sent to you from my boss. This is just for confirmation that you received it.", they pushed it closer to you.

"Why?", you looked over the paper, not even taking the clipboard from the demon.

"Please just sign it.", they sighed.

"Dear? What's taking so long?", Alastor walked out of the back room, static growing louder once seeing the demon with the Vox-tech logo on his jacket. "Why are you here?"

"I'm j-just doing my job, sir.", the demon froze.

"Alastor.", you said, quickly getting the deer demon's attention. "I'll handle this. Don't you worry.", you smiled.

"Very well.", he quickly agreed and backed off, glaring at the demon. "Don't let this take long.", he threatened them.

You turned to the demon and smiled.

"I reject it, whatever it is."

Of course Vox wasn't happy with that.

Alastor was pissed.

How dare that piece of technologic crap try and get your attention. You were his, he had your affection first and it would also be your last. You would be with him forever and no one will take you.

So, to make sure this didn't happen again, the smiling demon sent back the Vox-tech worker back in a bloody box.

"Darling~", he hugged you from behind.

Both of you were in the back of your shop again, you were going over your stock.

"Come with me to this hotel I saw on the news. It looks quite entertaining!"

"I'd love to Alastor but you know I have to do my work.", you caressed the side of his face. "I'll let you know when I can visit as soon as I'm done with the set of rings."

"Rings?", he asked.

"Yes, there was this couple celebrating an anniversary and wanted their wedding rings engraved.", you smiled.

"Still together even after death? How romantic.", the deer commented. "I suppose I can wait for a bit longer. Though I do wish you could just drop everything."

"You know I can't.", you laughed and kissed his cheek.

Satisfied for now, the Radio Demon left for the hotel. Of course not everything was a smooth sailing but he managed to get everything settled for you to join him.

And when you did he was ecstatic.

"Darling! I see you finished those rings!", he twirled you in a hug.

"I missed you too love.", you hugged back.

The hazbin crew was shocked seeing him so affectionate with you.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Oh how rude of me!", Alastor set you down but still held you close. "This is my significant other!"

"The fuck! Is this why you kept saying no to my offers!?", Angel crossed his arms.

"They are not the only reason! You are disgusting!", the deer demon grinned.

"What offers?", you questioned.

"This fellow kept offering to warm my bed dear."

"Oh?"

The room got darker and the walls started to distort.

"Hold on!", a blonde jumped in. "There is no killing guests in the hotel!"

"Charlie! Get away from them!", a white haired woman ran over with a spear.

You rolled your eyes and stopped.

"Sorry.", you smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you, I wouldn't dream of ruining your carpets!"

The two calmed down.

Alastor laughed and pulled you away from the group. "Don't you worry my darling, I made sure to threaten the spider properly. Let me show you around! I have a room set up to your liking."

"What? When did you-?"

"Let's go!", he teleported you with him using his shadows.

Everyone stood confused in the lobby.

"When the fuck did he start dating? How crazy is that demon to accept?"

Meanwhile you and Alastor were in your own little world. He showed you your hotel room and conjured up a door to connect your rooms together.

"If its too much I can get rid of the door.", he said and turned to look back at you. "What do you think?"

"Its very sweet of you.", you yanked him down by his bowtie. "Why didn't you tell me about the first time that spider made a comment like that?", you said in a commanding tone.

Your deer chuckled and kissed you.

"Because I knew that you would get jealous and I love to see you get like this.", he pulled you by the waist and into a dip. "We both know that I'd never accept something like that. Especially if its not you."

"I won't go there.", you moved your hands to hold his face. "I know you don't like things like that."

"I appreciate it my love.", he pulled you back up. "Now, what else would you like to do?"

"They said no killing, right?", you asked.

"Yes, no sinning here in the hotel my dearest.", he went to lie down on your bed.

"I can give him a good scare though.", you smiled and laughed darkly, plotting out a scheme.

Alastor sighed dreamily, kicking his feet back and forth as he watched you set up a plan.

Yes, he had fallen but he doesn't regret it.

Not one bit.

From: Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

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ML for Alastor🎙

[sokuroo]

in the spirit of matrimony.

summary — iwaizumi hajime is getting married, and you and your ex, oikawa tooru, must pretend you’re still together to avoid ruining his big day. the charade, however, proves to be a lot more complicated than you thought.

pairing — oikawa tooru x fem!reader genres — romance, angst; exes to lovers, fake dating!au word count — 3.0k

warnings — profanity, alcohol consumption author’s note — please excuse the writing, it is wildly inconsistent, and most of it feels like i wrote through a fever dream 😭 a little bit of info on some terms used: an izakaya is a type of informal japanese bar; oshibori is a wet towel offered at dining places used to clean one’s hands before eating; otoshi is an appetizer offered at izakaya

Oikawa Tooru is currently using the shower in your hotel room, and you are running late for dinner with Iwaizumi Hajime because of this.

You sit on the plush armchair in the corner of the room, picking at the raised swirls and curlicues embroidered on the cushion. You’re supposed to be meeting with Iwaizumi for dinner in fifteen minutes, but Oikawa seems to be taking his own sweet time getting ready. You can’t say you’re surprised. 

Irritated? Yes.

When he finally bursts out of the bathroom, looking like a Louis Vuitton model, you simply grab your purse and hotel card, and stride out the door without a second glance. Oikawa Tooru isn’t worth your time or energy—for now.

He catches up with you quickly—volleyball legs, and all that—and you can smell his perfume: Cremo spice and black vanilla. You hate the fact that you remember; you’d rather not, but he hasn’t changed the scent in five years and it’s always the little things that are the hardest to forget. In his black button down shirt and with his hair styled carefully with gel, Oikawa definitely looks attractive. He knows it, too, probably, and it gives you a twisted sort of satisfaction knowing that he can’t go about flirting with every person who catches his eye.

He simply cannot, because as far as Iwaizumi Hajime is concerned, you and Oikawa are still together.

“Don’t forget,” you mutter, just low enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves his hand dismissively before tucking it back into his pocket. “It’s just Hajime. Don’t worry.”

You bite back a sigh. It would do you no good to appear so visibly vexed—and it would cause Hajime to worry unnecessarily, which does a lot more harm to everyone involved. The only thing you want him to be worried about is wedding preparations and becoming a husband in three days. 

Your old friend meets you at the hotel lobby, right before Oikawa furtively slips his hand into yours. Iwaizumi looks tired—his clothes look rumpled and he has dark circles under his eyes—but he still smiles at you and Oikawa in the same way: boyish and crooked. You grin back at him.

“Hey, you two.” Iwaizumi opens his arms and pulls you in for a hug. His stubble brushes against your cheek, and you frown. 

“You’re growing a beard?” you ask incredulously, when you pull away.

He chuckles. “I wish. I need to look handsome on the day of the wedding. Akari thinks it makes me look rugged.” He shrugs and adds, “Personally, I can’t tell the difference.”

“How’s Mrs. Iwaizumi doing?” Oikawa cuts in. He smiles at his best friend, a quick flash of his teeth that you haven’t seen in ages. It almost makes you wish he still smiled at you like that. Almost.

“Akari’s great,” Hajime answers, the edges of his smile turning fond. His fiancé is truly the sweetest, and she’s perfect for Iwaizumi in ways no one else ever could be. It’s difficult to doubt their love, and you consider yourself lucky to have witnessed them falling for each other in college. “Really great, actually. She told me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t make it today, but she can’t wait to see you both tomorrow.”

Your ex-boyfriend sighs dramatically. “Iwa-chan. The only entertaining person of the evening is missing. Whatever shall I do?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend will provide ample entertainment, Oikawa,” Hajime deadpans.

Your cheeks flood with heat at the implication. You’re the furthest thing from being Oikawa Tooru’s entertainment tonight, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s laughing internally at the predicament.

“She’s good at entertaining me with other things,” he retorts, waggling his eyebrows in that infuriating way of his. “Not funny enough, unfortunately.”

You bristle. “Uncalled for, Oikawa.”

He turns to you—the first time he’s looked at you properly since you arrived at the hotel in their hometown—and, taking your hand in his, rubs his thumb along the back of your palm. You nearly shiver; Oikawa used to do that all the time when you were still together, and the small gesture now makes a lump form in your throat. 

“Just kidding, babe,” he says indulgently. “You know I make up for the lack of humour on your part.”

You have to give it to him. Oikawa Tooru is a magnificent actor. 

The way he talks to you, as though both of you hadn’t walked out of the hotel room without saying a word to each other is a feat in itself. He speaks to you as though nothing has changed, as though everything about the way you’re projecting yourselves to your friend is completely natural. You close the hole in your chest where Oikawa used to reside; you will not fall for his little antics—not when he chose to leave you alone.

You roll your eyes, meeting Hajime’s fond—if exasperated—gaze. “Ignore him.”

“I’ve been doing it my entire life,” he responds.

“You are mean and I hate you both,” Oikawa whines. Both of you ignore him.

“Let’s go,” Hajime says. “The izakaya gets really crowded later in the night.”

You wipe your hands on the soft cotton of the oshibori, scanning the menu taped onto the wall. Next to you, Oikawa digs into the otoshi, and in front of you, Hajime sips on his glass of beer. 

“Yakisoba noodles sounds good,” you murmur, “don’t you think?”

“I wan’ the chmmkn kraagh,” Oikawa says immediately through a mouthful of potato salad.

Iwaizumi sighs and translates, “He wants the chicken karaage.”

You scowl. You and Oikawa Tooru can never agree about things. You’re both too stubborn and hot-headed to budge from your opinions, and towards the end of your relationship, the number of petty arguments that were a result of your clashing personalities was high. At one point of time, you might have said that it was one of Oikawa’s qualities that you admired.

Right now, it just irks you to no end.

“We can order both,” you suggest. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. He makes a show of swallowing, exaggerating the bob of his throat, before he turns to you and states, “I want the chicken karaage, and I know Iwa-chan likes it more than yakisoba noodles.”

“Actually,” Hajime says mildly, “I kind of want the sashimi.”

“Let’s just order all three.” You bring your glass of beer to your lips and take a sip.

Iwaizumi looks curiously between you both. You take another sip of your beer, and you come to the realisation that for an outsider—like Hajime—you and Oikawa look absolutely nothing like a couple.

The fault is yours: You didn’t tell Hajime about your break up with Oikawa, and neither did he. Hajime still thinks you’re together. Neither you nor your ex-boyfriend are tactless enough to tell him that you aren’t dating anymore three days before he’s getting married. Iwaizumi is excited, and you aren’t about to dampen his happiness by telling him his two best friends haven’t spoken to each other in months.

That’s how, for the first time in ages, you and Oikawa Tooru decided that you couldn’t ruin Iwaizumi Hajime’s Big Day, and it was also how Operation: Pretend Like You’re Madly In Love So Your Surprisingly Intuitive Best Friend Doesn’t Feel Bad came about.

You set your beer down again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Can I try some of that?” you ask, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder with yours.

He pauses mid-chew, chopsticks held high in the air. “Sure.”

You nudge his shoulder again, a little bit more forcefully this time. Oikawa glares at you. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to send him some sort of telepathic signal. His eyes widen.

“Here, babe,” he says, plastering a grin on his face. He picks up a chunk of the creamy potato salad that was served as the otoshi and holds it up. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to gently bring your face closer to his chopsticks. You fist your fingers, nails cutting crescents into your palms, and accept the mouthful he holds out to you.

“Good?” Oikawa murmurs, his eyes not leaving your face.

You hum. It is good, rich and tart with a touch of sweetness, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to verbalise it. Your gaze flits downwards as you gently pull away from his grasp. Your jaw tingles where he held it.

Iwaizumi grins at you—almost knowingly—when you pick up your beer again. He holds a hand up, calling for the waiter to take your orders.

The alcohol washes down the taste of the food, but your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

It is always alcohol that loosens your tongue, and it’s the same for Oikawa Tooru as well. The beer you had at the izakaya lowers the towering walls between you both somewhat. It’s easier to speak to him, now, and after you switch on the lights in the hotel room and kick off your sandals, you whirl around and face Oikawa.

“What the hell was that?” you seethe, glaring at your ex-boyfriend.

He pauses in the middle of taking off his shoes. “What the hell was what?”

“You almost blew our cover! Didn’t you see the way Hajime looked at us?”

Oikawa cocks his head to the side, and his cluelessness only infuriates you even more.

“God, you haven’t changed one bit!” you rant. Your chest heaves with emotion—you’re not sure what emotion, exactly. Anger? Resentment? Foolish hope? Or perhaps a cocktail of all three that causes you to feel nothing but confusion. “Hajime is getting married in two days, and I know you couldn’t care less, but for his sake, can’t you make this whole—whole act more believable?”

“You— What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Oikawa’s eyebrows raise upwards incredulously. “You think I don’t care about Iwaizumi’s wedding? I met him before I even knew you existed.” He scoffs. “Of fucking course I care!”

“Then would it kill you to act like you still love me?” You take a step forward, eyes narrowed and index finger pointing at him. “Is that it? Is it so repulsive to pretend like you still have feelings for me, so that your best friend doesn’t worry about us?”

“That’s not it, and you know it,” Oikawa snarls, a frown marring his features. “We should’ve told him as soon as it happened.”

Hearing him refer to your relationship as it feels like a slap to the face. You falter, cursing yourself inwardly.

Of course he doesn’t care for you now. Why would he, after he decided that long-distance relationships were too much effort? I don’t see us working out in the long run, he’d explained over FaceTime. I’m sorry.

Two days later, you declared yourself officially single. You burrowed yourself in piles of work and forgot to tell Iwaizumi Hajime because talking to Hajime would remind you of Oikawa, and you weren’t ready for that yet. Eventually, you just… didn’t tell him.

That’s why it came as an unwelcome surprise to you when you walked into the hotel lobby and found Oikawa Tooru waiting there, with his arms crossed over his chest and his suitcase by his feet. You’re here, he’d said, and you wanted to punch yourself for the way your heart somersaulted in your chest.

You finally find your voice again. “But we didn’t, so would it kill you to just… not be so fucking obvious?”

Oikawa remains stoic, though you suspect he’s just as agitated as you are. “Yes. I don’t want to do this at all.”

Something in you breaks. How easy it is for Oikawa to break your heart. You’d given him the fragile thing, made of glass, and he had knocked it over like it was a house of cards more than once. 

“Fine,” you grit out, bending down and picking up your footwear again. The alcohol buzzing in your head isn’t enough—you need to stop thinking, need to find some way to stop yourself from constantly imagining him. “See if I care.”

You shoulder past him and place your hand on the doorknob.

“Where are you going?”

If you really strained your ears, you could almost hear the imperceptible concern in Oikawa’s voice. You brush it off; he doesn’t have any feelings towards you, as he’s made so amply clear.

“Why do you care?” you retort, before pushing open the door and heading in the direction of the hotel restaurant’s bar.

The room is dark when you open the door.

It’s a little past one in the morning—or so one of the bellhops had said when he kindly escorted you back to your room. Your mind is swirling.

It seems even getting yourself batshit drunk isn’t enough to eradicate all thoughts of Oikawa.

The walls spin. You stumble inside. Your hip bumps against something solid—a table, probably—and you let out a startled yelp. 

Oikawa’s voice is like a balm, soothing your feverish forehead, when he says your name.

How are you supposed to get over him? How are you supposed to go back to living alone when you’ve had this taste of what it could be like, regardless of how authentic it is?

The answer is clear as day: You cannot.

A pair of hands guides you by the shoulders to the bed. Oikawa is careful, gentle with his hold on you. You sprawl on the bed sheets, the fabric cool against your cheek. He appears like an outline in the darkness. 

“Are you okay?”

“God,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Oikawa.”

He remains silent for a moment, before he clears his throat and says, “You asked me why I care about where you go.”

You don’t say anything.

“I just do,” he continues, “and I don’t know how to explain it. But I do care.”

His fingers are warm when he caresses your cheek. The last thing you do before succumbing to sleep is murmur his name—a curse, but somehow reverent.

When you wake up the next morning, the sheets next to you are rumpled. There is no sign of Oikawa anywhere in the room, but there is a tall glass of water placed on the bedside table.

Through the pounding of your head, you squint at the note written using the hotel stationery placed beside it. 

Drink up. Hajime and Akari are bringing us breakfast.

Breakfast is a lively affair. You’re glad to see Akari again, happy to see the to-be-newlyweds so patently in love with each other.

Oikawa keeps his hand on your thigh, steady and comforting, and offers you golden smiles whenever you catch his eye, and you swallow down the awful lump in your throat.

The day passes by in a blur.

It’s on the day before Iwaizumi’s wedding that Oikawa Tooru kisses you.

Wedding photos are unnecessary, you think. After all, you’re not the one getting married. But Akari had been insistent that you and Oikawa take some pictures together, and you couldn’t refuse her beseeching gaze.

Oikawa, clad in his dapper suit, with his hair styled using copious amounts of hair gel, places his hands on your waist and draws you in. His fingers bunch up the material of your dress. The photographer asks you to place your hands on his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum underneath the pads of your fingertips. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, leaning in. 

You nod.

His mouth tastes like spearmint and the chocolate muffins he’d shared with you at breakfast. 

The afternoon passes by in a daze.

As you walk through the wedding venue, noting all the decorations and the flower arrangements, Oikawa slips his hand into yours. 

“You don’t have to,” you say. “No one’s here to see us.”

“I want to,” he replies simply. He is serious now, not his usual boisterous self, the way he is around Hajime and Akari. “It’s a nice place, no?”

You press your lips together. His words are oddly reminiscent of what he said the night you were drunk. Your stomach twists into knots, but if you don’t ask him the one question that has been nagging at you since then, who will do it for you?

“Tooru,” you say.

He stiffens. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you broke up with him.

“Why didn’t you tell Hajime we broke up?” you ask.

His shoulders loosen and his mouth twists upwards in a crooked, sad sort of smile. 

“Because I love you, and breaking up with you broke me in some way.”

Your voice is quiet when you ask, “Why did you?”

“I didn’t want to be the one holding you back,” he says, just as quietly. “I didn’t want you to be constantly worrying about someone who didn’t even live in the same country as you. You deserve someone who will be there for you. Someone you can come home to after work, and talk about your day, and cook dinner together with. I couldn’t give you that.”

You want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. What a stupid, idiotic fool you’re in love with.

“Silly,” you say. “I only want you.”

The wedding happens on a sunny afternoon, and it is beautiful. Akari is radiant, and Hajime tells her that he’s the luckiest man ever. They are in love, and looking at them doesn’t hurt anymore. Your ex-boyfriend turned current boyfriend presses his shoulder against yours and gives you a small, knowing smile when he catches you almost tearing up. You nudge him back, and his smile grows into a grin that envelops his face in gold.

(“You’re the golden one,” he’ll tell you later, pressing feather-light kisses to your collarbones and cheeks. You’ll say he’s wrong.)

Right before the crowd disperses, Oikawa takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the knuckle of your ring finger.

Later, he whispers to you that it’s all in the spirit of matrimony.

Oikawa Tooru is using the shower in your bedroom, and he’s running late to catch his flight back to Argentina, and everything is perfect.

author’s note (again): this fic is a birthday gift to my best friend, @hanluex! it's the most last-minute thing ever and i apologise but HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOKI!!!

[7seas-of-ryy]

Cozy Days

Author’s Note: I just wanted to write a small fluffy piece to make me happy! I will definitely be writing about more shenanigans soon!! I used a prompt from this list and just changed it slightly!

Summary: You spend the day with the love of your life <3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: making out, let me know if I need to add any others :)

It was a calm, quiet day and you had never felt so relaxed before. You woke up next to the love of your life, Azriel. Then you went for a walk through the city, just enjoying the sights.

Once you returned home, you cuddled up next to each other on the couch and each read your own book. After about an hour, you broke the silence.

"So... Do you actually like me—" You began to ask.

"We have been married for fifty years. Our mating ceremony is next week. What do you think!?" Az responded cutting you off.

"I don''t know! I just thought I should make sure!" You said raising your hands in defense.

"Make sure?!" He laughed out the response.

You had a lazy smile on your face, always happy listening to your mate's laugh. If you were being honest, you knew without a doubt that the male sitting next to you loved you but a little reassurance never hurt anyone.

Azriel pulled you closer into his side, still smiling and kissed your head.

"I've spent my entire life waiting for you. I lived nearly 500 years without you and yet it feels like my life didn't truly start until I met you. Does that answer your question?" He spoke in a gentle tone.

You felt such a deep love for him and you knew words wouldn't do how you felt justice. Instead you moved til you were sitting on his lap and ran your hands through his hair. When you looked at him, his eyes were already on yours.

His strong eye contact suddenly made you nervous. He was so gorgeous, it was hard to believe he was all yours.

You looked down, resting your hands on his shoulders while his were laying on your thighs.

"Are you blushing?" He asked with a teasing tone, "After all these years I still make you blush?"

"Don't make fun of me!" You said, barrying your face in his neck.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His hands slowly rubbed up and down your back. Both of you enjoying the warmth of the other.

"I love that I still make you blush. I hope I make you blush for the rest of our lives." He said, easing your embarrasment.

You pulled your head from his neck and your gaze softened when you saw the look of love on his face.

"I love you." You told him and leaned closer to him.

Your lips were so close, but not yet touching.

"I love you too." He whispered, lips brushing against yours.

You shared soft kisses, which turned passionate after a few moments. Your hands made their way to his hair once again and lightly tugged.

He groaned into your mouth and you pulled away for some air. You were both panting, leaning your foreheads against each other. He went to kiss you again but you put a finger on his lips. A look of confusion washed over his face.

"Did you forget?? Cassian and Nesta are coming over for dinner and I don't think you want them to walk in on us like this." You spoke.

He tilted his head back and forth a few times as if contemplating his options.

"I think I'll take my chances." He decided and before you could blink he had you on your back on the couch with him on top of you.

He kissed you again, this time with hunger. He loosely pinned your hands above your head as he kissed down your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist while he continued to mark your skin.

"Hey guys, we brought a new—" Cassian spoke as he entered but stopped speaking and let out a hearty laugh.

The two of you jolted up, standing quickly. You brushed down your clothes trying to smooth them out while he ran his hands through his hair to make it a little more neat.

"Starting with Y/N as an appetizer?" Cass jokingly questioned.

Nesta rolled her eyes at her mate's joke.

"You two knew we were coming and you couldn't keep it in your pants until after dinner?" She spoke with a disgusted look on her face.

"Sorry! She's just so breathtaking, I can't help myself." Azriel defended himself.

You could feel the tips of your ears and your cheeks grow red at his words. It seemed it was too easy for him to fluster you.

Nesta rolled her eyes but a small smile grew on her face. She was happy for you two, knew you both deserved this love and happiness.

Az grabbed your hand and led you to the table. His shadows wrapping around your torso, up your body until nuzzling themselves in your hair.

You sat next to Nesta and gave her a quick apology, which she gave you a smirk in return. Looking across the table, you saw Azriel already looking at you. He gave you a subtle wink that made your heart flutter.

Life hadn't been kind to you before you met Azirel, but having him now sure did make up for it.

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