#before the strike happened | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delusionalbitchinthehouse · 2 months ago

Note

THERES A BOMB STRAPPED TO MY CHEST AND IF YOU DONT TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED W ZEPHRIT THE NIGHT BEFORE IN YOUR COFFEE SHOP AU IT WILL EXPLODE AHHHHHHHHHH

Well apparently threats + enthusiasm are the best motivators ever, so, here you go (I might have been a bit carried away) :

Honestly, Ifrit shouldn't be here. It's late, both he and Ivy have a long shift tomorrow, they should get a good night of sleep to face the next day in the best conditions.

Key word : should.

Unfortunately, neither Ifrit nor Ivy are known to do what's good for them, and Pebble is half their self control. Knowing the man, that is a concerning fact.

Anyway, Pebble's not here, they're catching up with Aether and Dew, which means they end up at a bar, with the objective of getting thoroughly wasted.

Well, not Ivy ; he offered to be the one driving them home, sticking to his soda, though he does make a point to pour it in an empty shot glass and down it at the same time as the rest of them.

Ifrit, knowing he's a bit of a lightweight, tries to take it slow ; he still wants to remember this night, and he'd rather avoid the worst of the hangover that will surely make his shift that much more tiring.

There's a bit of a blank in the conversation, Aether ordering new drinks, Dew out for a quick smoke, so Ifrit let his eyes wander in the room.

His gaze lands on someone sitting alone at a table, stomach immediately flipping. Long hair falling on their shoulders, a Nightmare On Elm Street tee tucked in baggy jeans, held on their hip by a thick belt with a shiny buckle that catches the dim lights. But what really gets Ifrit is the way that person is looking at him, unabashedly staring with a little smirk, lazily twirling their cane in their hand.

Fuck.

For a while, they both only do that. They stare. Check each other out. Ifrit knows he looks good, tight jeans on and tank top threatening to reveal his chest every time he shifts even the slightest bit, but oh does the burn of that person's eyes on him feel like the biggest compliment he ever received.

Then, the stranger leans back in their seat, making a come hither gesture, which really seals the deal. Ifrit is on his feet in and instant, color rising to his cheeks. He hears Ivy sniggering and wishing him good luck, but it's muted, distant, all of Ifrit's attention on the person cocking their head at him.

He's standing in front of them in three strides.

Up close they're even more captivating. Freckles, creases around their eyes, a small scar on their cheekbone. Older than Ifrit is, but he wouldn't be able to know by how much ; all he knows is that there is a hint of grey at their temple and that it's unreasonably hot.

"Like what you see ?"

Oh, fuck, if the croon of their voice doesn't fuel the fire in Ifrit's guts.

"Sure do. Could ask you the same question, stranger," he manages to choke out, though it doesn't have the teasing lilt he usually so easily injects in his flirty exchanges.

The person chuckles, sizing Ifrit up with something almost predatory in their eyes. There's an easy confidence, something sure and steady and...authoritary to them that makes Ifrit want to drop on his knees right here right now.

"Zephyr. Name's Zephyr, sweet thing. And yes, I do enjoy the sight of you and your big doe eyes...?"

"Ifrit," he answers, voice unsteady, face burning, getting stupidly worked up by a basic conversation. But it's the way Zephyr watches him, like a hawk ready to sink its talons in soft flesh.

Ifrit would let them.

"Now I'd love to keep talking to you, don't get me wrong, but I also might keel over if I don't get my hands on you in the next minute or so," Zephyr conversationally states.

"Bathroom ?" Ifrit wheezes, itching to taste them, to feel them.

Zephyr grabs their cane with one hand, Ifrit's necklace with the other, and makes a beeline for said bathroom.

It's baffling, really, how easily Ifrit let himself be led like this, following behind like an obedient pup, struck by the overwhelming need to be good, to please Zephyr every way he can.

The door of the stall slams shut behind both of them, lock clicking. Surprisingly, Ifrit feels a bit intimidated now that he's alone with Zephyr. He's done nastier shit, in riskier and more embarrassing settings, but somehow, being cramped in a narrow space with Zephyr specifically has his nerves acting up.

That is until Zephyr cups his neck to guide him into a heated kiss, all apprehension bleeding out of Ifrit as he leans into it, backing Zephyr against the door, gropping their hips.

"How do you- how do you want me," Ifrit manages to pant against their mouth, distracted by the feeling of hands slipping under his shirt, pawing at his belly, then up, up to his chest, ripping a whimper out of him when deft fingers pay special attention to his nipples.

Zephyr seems to consider as they lick a nasty stripe up Ifrit's neck, reaching the shell of his ear just in time to whisper right against it.

"I want you on your knees."

Well, Ifrit's been ready for that for long enough that he immediately goes down, barely needing to be guided by the hand settling in his hair. His own find Zephyr's thighs, anchoring themselves there while he looks up, aware that their view probably consists of flushed cheeks, ruffled hair, slack jaw and glazed over eyes.

It seems to do the trick, too, because Ifrit can see them fattening up in their jeans, hips jerking slightly. After another glance up to confirm Zephyr is in, Ifrit reaches up, undoing their belt in a record time despite his shaky hands.

"Do this often ?" Zephyr teases, only chuckling at the embarrassed way Ifrit ducks his head down. "It's alright, no shame in it. You are a sight on your knees, sweet thing."

And, okay, Ifrit has heard that before, because he is pretty and fully dedicated to the blow jobs he gives - his oral fixation is to blame for that - but wow, the way Zephyr says it, phrases it, has him throbbing in his pants.

"Now be good and get me in that pretty mouth of yours, mmh ?"

Ifrit might very well pass out.

He does what he's asked, because fuck his need to please is back tenfold. Also, he might die if he doesn't get Zephyr's cock down his throat right this instant. The second their dick is freed, Ifrit takes it as far as he can, gag reflex immediately challenged.

His jaw will ache soon, there's already instinctive tears collecting at his waterline, but Zephyr's heady taste finally coats Ifrit's tongue and they make a low sound as their head thud back against the door, so it's all more than worth it.

Ifrit doesn't waste time, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks like rent is due. He's good at this, he knows it, and he'll be damned if he doesn't make sure Zephyr knows that by the time they're done.

The hand in his hair tightens, tugging not so gently, sparks of pain only serving to make Ifrit's cock twitch while he extracts as much bitten off moans, gasps and grunts as he can from Zephyr, who's clearly getting lost in the feeling of it all.

Their hips twitch forward when Ifrit swirls his tongue around the head, and he pulls away just enough to whisper in a raspy, strained voice.

"You can fuck my mouth, if you want to."

Zephyr's eyes actually roll back at that.

"Oh, sweetheart," they rasp, grabbing his jaw to shove their cock down his throat again, holding Ifrit still that way, one hand on his face, the other in his hair.

And, to Ifrit's delight, they are not being gentle, snapping their hips forward with hurried urgency, blindingly chasing their pleasure. Despite that, when the tears finally spill from Ifrit's eyes, they wipe them away with their thumb, mumbling a string of praises that warms something in his chest.

"Good boy, taking me so well- fuck, so good, that mouth of yours..."

It doesn't take much longer for Zephyr's rythm to falter as they warn in a breathless voice.

"Gonna cum Ifrit- tell me- where-"

Ifrit is given some leverage to pull away, just barely, to answer.

"In my mouth, please-"

Zephyr is leaning most of his weight against the door now, heaving a sigh at the answer, before thrusting back into Ifrit's mouth, once twice-

With a barely stiffled moan, they come down Ifrit's throat, not letting go of the vice grip they have on his hair until they've come down from their orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart," they hum when Ifrit swallows, maintaining eye contact the whole time. It's dizzying, the arousal flowing through him, the taste of Zephyr lingering, the pride of seeing them wrecked that way, barely able to stand on their own, hair plastered to their face, panting. All because of Ifrit.

He's yanked out of his thoughts by the toe of Zephyr's shoe pressing against his crotch, making Ifrit jolt and whine.

"Such a good little thing like you," Zephyr coos, regaining some composure, surely you deserve a reward, mmh ?

Ifrit's out of words, too turned on and throat far too wrecked to do anything else but nod furiously.

"Up you go then," Zephyr hums, offering Ifrit a hand to tug him back on his feet. He let them turn him toward the toilet seat, braces a hand against the wall when Zephyr crowds behind him, working his pants open.

The relief of having his cock, hard and leaking, finally pulled out already has Ifrit weak in the knees.

Then Zephyr wraps a hand around it, breathing in his ear.

"Let's keep this clean, mmh ?"

While he would like to answer, Ifrit doesn't even get to think about what to say before Zephyr starts pumping him, nice and slow, paying extra attention to the head. His eyes roll back, head hanging down, mouth opening around a silent moan.

Truthfully, it takes an embarrassingly short time for Ifrit to start whimpering, already so worked up from just blowing Zephyr, but they don't seem to think any less of him for that.

"There, there, feels good, uh ? I know, I know pretty boy, being so good for me shh, sh, there you go, you close, uh ? I can tell you are. It's okay, it's good."

With so much encouragement, and the feeling of a tight fist around his cock, Ifrit is done for. A few more stroke, and he shoots in the toilet, babbling and half-sobbing the whole time.

Zephyr, turns out, really is perfect, because they stick around, help Ifrit wipe what little mess they made - really, they've been surprisingly clean, overall - and most importantly, they check on Ifrit with a softness laced with an unwavering determination to make sure he is okay that makes his stomach flip again.

So Ifrit let them grab his jaw, gently but firmly, inspect his face, adjust his clothes, ask if he's okay - and returns the favor.

It's only when he's back at his table with a far too nosy Ivy trying to get details, Zephyr long out of the bar, though they didn't leave without one last kiss, that Ifrit realizes he forgot to ask for their number.

Fuck.

Well, you never know what might happen, uh ? Small world and all that.

#hehehehehehe #look inspiration striked #so there you go !#coffeeshop au #kinda #they're not IN the coffeeshop but since it's what happens before they meet again IN the coffeeshop this time...#ifrit ghoul #zephyr ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost

39 notes · View notes