#cocktail arrangements
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hsmagazine254 · 1 year ago
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J.K. Florists: Blossom Your Table
J.K. Florists: Blossom Your Table
Elevate Every Meal With J.K. Florists’ Blooming Tablescapes Indulge in the art of tablescaping with J.K. Florists and transform your dining experience into a fragrant symphony of nature’s beauty. Our exquisite floral arrangements will add a touch of elegance to your meals, making every breakfast, lunch, and dinner a special occasion. Whether it’s a romantic dinner for two or a grand feast with…
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supercantaloupe · 1 year ago
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Can you recommend some favourite woodwind pieces? Like quartets and so on. Maybe something from the Haydn / Mozart era, or maybe not! I've been meaning to listen to more instrumental music. Thank you!
the haydn london trios (written for 2 flutes and cello but i've played it them on oboe before, chamber music of the period was often written to be played with interchangeable instruments; fl/vln/cello is also common)
adolphe deslandres pièces en quintette (mvt 1 2 3) (this is later romantic, not classical, but i have a fondness for it, plus i think it's lesser known)
beethoven oboe trio op 87 (mvt 1 2 3 4) and variations on la ci darem la mano
mozart oboe quartet (mvt 1 2 3)
mozart clarinet quintet (mvt 1 2 3 4)
strauss serenade for winds (also late romantic. includes brass but gd damn i love this piece)
dvorak serenade for winds (mvt 1 2 3 4) (i'm only really familiar w mvt 1 but it's dvorak so the rest of it has to be good too)
the telemann canonic sonatas (baroque, not instrument specific but this album is two flutes)
basically this whole album (oboe quartets by fiala and krommer) (can you tell what instrument i play yet)
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yugocar · 1 year ago
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good morning lovers im on the airport on my period running on 4 different drugs 2 of which are mandatory omw to madrid for something which we refer to as toxic women october
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infoblogifyzen · 10 months ago
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5 Creative Ways to Use Cocktail Tables in Event Floral Designs by Lenox Hill Florist
Cocktail tables have become a staple in many event designs, with their versatility and ability to elevate the ambiance of any gathering. In this blog post, we explore five unique and creative ways to incorporate cocktail tables into your event’s floral design. Get ready to wow your guests and create stunning visual effects in collaboration with Lenox Hill Florist. Cocktail Tables with Floral…
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lucidrims · 4 months ago
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            opening her mouth, wanting to retaliate from his little remark about reeling him in prematurely, but frankly, she didn't have anything good. quickly shutting up, sora hugs her knees to her chest while waiting for caelum to return with the things needed to create a contract. " i know, but it might be good to have a time limit like that ? maybe it will push me to find something more sustainable. because it's either that, or go back to the lee household on my knees and beg for my father's forgiveness, " a disgusted face shows up on her facial map, eyes trained on what he was writing on the paper, " or find a job . . which, the latter sounds more enticing to be honest. " eyes widening at the amount jotted down, " are you sure ? i mean, i'm not going to refuse. " reaching with both her hands for the notebook, her eyes skim the contract, stealing the pen away from him, " okay, where do i sign ? or should i prick my finger with this pen and then use my blood instead ? " sora asks with a mischievous grin.
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❝ wow, you really have that much faith in me to find someone in the next nine years? awfully optimistic but it's nice to know that you wanna reel me in early. ❞ there was no way in hell he'd let that comment of hers pass, especially since she was generally a sure person about herself. if she could sustain herself off of someone else's money, would she ever choose romance for herself? ❝ a year? i'm not, like, in a rush to kick you off of my inheritance or anything yet. we haven't even started, ❞ he reminders her with an airy laugh, caelum still pacing about the room with his notebook in hand to write the super-secret officially binding contract in sloppy handwriting. ❝ let's see... i, caelum, promise to allot... how about five million won to start out with and see how that works out? i know this is a binding contract so... ❞ a few taps of the end of his pen to the mouth signals him to be in thought, reworking the words to fashion up something suitable. ❝ okay. read over this, ❞ he requests as he holds the notebook out to her, ❝ and tell me what you think. it should have the right wording that'll allow me so appropriately change the allowance. ❞
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sigh-tofm · 2 months ago
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if you’re their sugar baby… (18+)
… price
- absolutely spoils you. adores giving you anything you want. if your gaze lingers in a shop window, he’ll buy you whatever’s in it. you suspect he’s infiltrated your phone somehow, because anything you look at online will show up on your doorstep a few days later. he takes you to private jewellery fittings and sits back with a glass of whisky while the jewellers puts glimmering necklaces and earrings on you.
in return, he likes showing you off. regularly takes you out to restaurants so expensive they don’t even list their prices on the menu. spoon feeds you black caviar and picks out the correct wine, the bottles so old they still have wax seals on them. loves seeing you wearing the dresses he buys for you, revealing the fleshier parts of your body that the rest of society tells you to hide. always wants you to wear diamonds in your ears when you’re his date. nothing is ever too expensive if it’s for you.
takes you to a luxurious hotel after and fucks you good and well in the satin sheets. goes back to base before you wake up the morning after, and leaves a generous cash tip on the nightstand in addition to the monthly four digit payments transferred directly to your bank account.
… kyle
- takes care of you. a sergeant’s pay is low compared to a captain’s, but it’s still a substantial amount and much, much more than you make. enjoys having a pretty lady to spoil. any visit to the hairdresser or nail salon is on him. will occasionally request a specific colour for your nails, and you know it’s to match a dress he’s bought you, waiting for you at home.
takes you dancing, spends the whole night downtown and treats you to high-end street food at three in the morning. you get fancy cocktails and colourful shots and anything else you want to try. if another woman gets close to him on the dance floor, he makes a point out of feeling you up, splaying his hands over you wide hips and soft tummy.
takes you home to his and you both fall right to sleep, waking up past noon the day after. arranges a massage for you to help with your hangover. sits in on the appointment and flips your towel up to eat you out when the massage therapist leaves. reminds you to use the credit card he’s given you in between your orgasms.
… johnny
- whisks you away to scotland when he’s off duty. borrows the family cabin in the highlands and accommodates you both in the master bedroom, spending the cold nights in a grand bed with a heavy pelt covering the duvet. loves the fantasy of having a big, soft secret stowed away in the mountains.
spends the days hiking with you or takes you down to the coast, where you watch the wild waves and enjoy cottage pie in a local pub. asks for the finest whiskey, refusing anything but the best for you. tells you all about the history of the old stone kirk of the town over steaming mugs of spiked cider.
lays the pelt out on the floor before the great fireplace in the living room and grins when you mention the cliché of it all. remarks that clichés exist for a reason and pulls you close. your skin grows goosebumps in the cold air of the cabin, but the fireplace (and the rigorous activity on the pelt rug) warms you both up. lays with you after, smoothing his hand over your side and enjoying how your soft body gives way to the pressure of his fingers. pays for first class on your flight back home and gives you cash enough to cover both rent and supplies for the month. makes out with you messily at the airport before you part ways.
… simon
- takes you along to all his going ons outside of active duty. enjoys having a partner in crime, so to speak. in the military he’s a lone wolf, so when he’s off he just wants to have you for company. price thinks it’s a good idea for him too, to at least pretend he has some normalcy in his life. you oblige. he takes you to all his mundane errands; groceries, changing the tires of his car, walking the old bridle paths in his area.
has you tucked in under his arm when the footie’s on in the evening, trays of hot takeaway on the sofa table. if you can’t decide what you want to order, he has you list everything you’re interested in and orders it all. entertains your questions about football terminology and plays with your hair. pulls a blanket over you when you’re close to falling asleep and turns the volume down.
herds you to bed after a little while and so enjoys having a warm, soft body to put his arm around at night. to you, it’s all so casual and natural that you almost forget it’s an arrangement, but he never forgets to pay for your company according to your agreement and always tips generously.
doesn’t say it out loud, but likes it when you straddle him on the sofa and lets him feel you up and make out with you until he comes in his pants like a schoolboy.
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emmawatsonfans · 2 years ago
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Home Office - Contemporary Home Office
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madamechrissy · 17 days ago
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Ive had this idea that you’re the bride the Gojo clan chose for satoru (arranged marriage) and you both don’t know who you’re marrying and won’t know until your getting married right? So on your “last night of freedom” your friends throw a bachelorette party for you and take you out for dancing and drinks. Something you didn’t know is your future husband was having his bachelor party at the same place. Long story short you both meet (not knowing who each other are and not catching the coincidence) and spend your last night of freedom with each other (body shots, dancing, a little heavy making out). Come the next day you stare at him through your veil at the end of the aisle and can’t help but smile knowing the man who showed you what you thought was the last best night of your life was your future husband all along.
Hello love, I just adore this idea, I hope you enjoy what I came up with here!
Word Count- 2.4k - Pairing- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader- explicit- making out, playing in public, oral sex (both receiving)
ఇ An Arranged Marriage with Gojo ఇ
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The club pulsed with energy, a whirlwind of lights and pulsing beats that pound through your body, you're already warm and flushed from the writhing bodies on the dance floor and your first tequila shot. Your best friends pulled you back toward the bar, ordering rounds of colorful cocktails that sparkle in your glasses. Your best friend Shoko is trying to cheer you up, pinching your backside and making the funniest 'whooo noise'. you giggle.
"Look at this ass in this! Bend over, bride to be." You bend over and Shoko and she smacks your butt, as does your other good friend Utahime and then all your friends there. You're giggling, as the bartender winks at you.
"If you weren't the bride to be I think I'd ask for your number." He says to you, and you flush, luckily no one can see in the neon lights of the dance floor.
"See, you're hot, bitch." Utahime says, putting a shot glass right in your cleavage and grinning. Utahime's pretty, silky black locks are high in a ponytail, whereas Shoko's brunette locks were shorter, just a bit over one eye as she puts a lime in your mouth.
"Your husband is a lucky man." The bartender says now, and you sigh, not wanting to reveal the truth, that he'd probably resent you, that you all have never even met. Not once. You're from an entire other village, promised to marry the head of the Gojo clan, and you know nothing about him at all.
"He's gonna love you baby." Shoko says, puffing on a cigarette and smiling. You take a shaky breath, running your hands down your slinky silver dress, as Utahime takes a shot right from your tits. You notice then as you look to your right that there are three handsome men, looking right at you.
One has long dark hair tied back half up and in a dark green Kimono, the other sandy hair, looking sharp in a killer suit, but the third stands out, they're all tall and gorgeous, but something about him. Is it the shocking white hair or the brilliant blue eyes, that trail down your body as he smirks just a bit with pouty lips.
'look at her over there, fuck she's hot. Why do I have to get married tomorrow? What if she's a bitch, what if she's a-'
'Satoru, you have no choice. You know that. Enjoy your last night of freedom, go talk to her.' Suguru Geto says, he's set to be Gojo's best man, and he knows his friend is losing it at the thought of marrying someone arranged. He doesn't blame him one bit, the girl Gojo is looking at - You - is very beautiful, that little outfit hugging your body just right, a little tiara on your head.
'looks like she's also getting married. huh.' Nanami says then, and Satoru looks at your head, seeing the tiara and tiny veil, and then your glittering outfit and heels make sense. 'I don't know, should you really talk to her?'
Satoru sighs then, downing the contents of his sweet, fruity hurricane he ordered. 'I mean I have one night left. I won't take things too far, but maybe a kiss or... maybe lick her-'
'Gojo!' Nanami chides, but Suguru chuckles, his dark eyes glinting.
'Nah, kiss both sets of lips Satoru.' Satoru chuckles then, as he things of what is between those pretty thighs, and he grins big, his white teeth glinting, shooting his friends the peace sign.
'I'm out to have my last meal guys!'
"Fuck, is he coming over here!?" You whisper then, as this tall gorgeous man with some expensive black Gucci dress shirt stands and looks right at you. You nervously down another shot, eyes wide at your friends.
"He thinks you're hot! Fuck it babe, enjoy yourself, we have no clue how this... Gojo guy is going to be." Utahime says softly, and you shake your head.
"I can't just fuck someone night before my wedding!"
"So don't fuck, just... maybe, y'know." Shoko winks, putting her cigarette out, and you feel your pulse race as he gets closer.
"Y'know what? You all know I am too sheltered to have done much."
"That's even better, gotta do something before, yeah?" Utahime says, nudging you, and you open your mouth, but suddenly he's right next to you, towering over you and everyone in the damn club, even his tall ass friends were just a hair shorter.
He smiles down at you, then to your friends, but his focus shoots right back on your face, as he toys with the tiara a bit. "bride to be, huh?"
"Um... y-yeah." Fuck could you be anymore awkward?
"How about I buy you a drink, pretty?" You flush under his casual praise, as someone with such perfect features compliments you, and he was perfect, his straight nose, his pouty pink lips, jaw structure better than a GQ model. And fuck he smells good.
"She'd love to!" Utahime answers for you, and you panic, looking up at him, noticing his gaze had dropped to your breasts, pronounced in that pretty dress. You feel your nipples perk up, and hope he doesn't notice.
"Oooh, Mei is here! We will let you two mingle, we're gonna meet her out front and then get more drinks." Shoko says, and they leave you, these bitches leave you with this... tall ass, fine ass man. You gulp nervously as he has a seat next to you, scooching you a bar stool up.
"Last night of freedom huh?" He asks softly, and you nod, sighing and sitting where he'd just patted, as he holds up two ridiculously long fingers, fingers that make you think the lewdest things, how they'd feel inside you.
Fuck.
He orders you both several shots in different colors, like a pretty rainbow and you smile then, as he's handing you the red one first. "Bottoms up, pretty."
You down the shot, surprisingly tart, coughing just a bit, and he's chuckling at you. "hey now! Don't make fun!"
"Sorry you're just cute. Here, try this one Princess."
"Princess, aha no... just a cheap tiara here." You say with a little giggle, and he adjusts it carefully, you watch his Adam's Apple bob. He is too close, you see his collarbone, his strong neck muscles, wondering at his body.
"There, much better, all Princess like."
"You're sweet." You say, and he leans close, tilting your chin up, and you taste his sweet breath, far too close to lips that are tingling.
"Bet you taste sweet." He whispers, and you're a mess, you don't know this man you're gonna marry, but you still feel awful. Should you do this!?
"I um... so, I don't know who I'm marrying." You whisper, and he frowns a bit then, tilting his head.
"Arranged shit? Archaic." You sigh, nodding.
"It's bullshit. I don't have time to... date you, or get to know you, or anything."
"You saying you just want my body!?" He gasps, holding his hand to his chest, making you giggle again.
"Just to have fun."
"Then let's have fun." You two down one more shot each, and now he has you on that dance floor, as your hips are undulating to the beat of the flashing lights, and his big hands overtake your hips. He bends down then, turning you and lifting you like it's nothing, you giggle as your feet dangle, and you cling to him around his neck.
"You're a good dancer... fuck what's your name!"
"It's... Geto. Suguru Geto." He says (he doesn't know why he lies but it feels right- he doesn't want rumors about himself to spread)
"Oh, and I'm... Ieri Shoko." You say (You don't know why you like, but it feels right- you don't want rumors about you to spread)
"Shoko huh?"
"Suguru huh?"
Before you know it, you're making out right on that dance floor, and his hand is sliding up the small of your back, as Shoko and Utahime have begun talking to Geto and Nanami, and the four of them have put it together, watching you both with a grin. You two will definitely be happy, they all muse, as they watch their clueless, horny friends all over each other.
"Mmm, Suguru... can I call you that?" You whisper, in between his kisses, your tongues wrapping around each other hungrily, your body arching eagerly for more. He chuckles then, shaking his head.
"Call me baby boy, sounds cute." You giggle then, shaking your head up at him, then whining as his hand slips down your tummy, and he finds you hot and eager between your thighs. "Fuck you're hot, those noises... wanna kiss you all over."
"I'm so not calling you baby boy." You breathe out, then gasp when he's rubbing two long fingers over already damp lacy panties. He moans softly, eyes locking with yours.
"I'll call you Princess, you call me daddy."
"I am not!"
"Wanna bet?"
"Daddy!" You cry out weakly, as Satoru Gojo is on his knees, and you're up on this fancy sink at the club, he's flicking his tongue on your clit, two long fingers pumping into your dripping wet pussy, as you cling to his snowy white hair. His blue eyes lock, smirking against your hot little cunt now, his other hand yanking down your top, revealing a perky nipple for him to pinch.
"Already, you didn't cum yet, no... I need to find where you're... aha, there it is." He presses up then, as you feel your tummy clench, as this stranger makes you feel better than anything you've done. Your head whacks the mirror with a thud as he presses in on that spongy little spot, and you hear how wet you are in the bathroom echoing, along with the faded bass music.
"Fuck, fuck... m'close, shit!" You scream out, before trying to cover your mouth, remembering where you all are. He grins, brushing his lips on your puffy lips as he presses that spot over and over, making your vision blacken as the pressure builds.
"That's it, where you're weak... go ahead, Princess, let go, I've got you." He says, and fuck you trust this random stranger, the one who's watching you, flicking the tip of his tongue on your clit as he works you, and you're shattering, screaming into your palm, thighs trembling at how good you feel.
"Oh my god... daddy!" You whisper again, earning his grin before he nips at your clit with his teeth, then he kisses your thighs, finally letting you go, putting his fingers between your lips. "Mmm!"
"You're so fucking yummy. Fuck I wish I could taste you again." He huffs, pouting now, as your hand drops and brushes his hair back gently.
"Let me return the favor?" He groans, nodding, as you sink to your knees then.
"Oh fuck, I'm dreaming... pretty Princess sucking me off with her tiara?" He whispers, as he unzips his black jeans, and pushes down his boxers, revealing the most pretty cock you've seen. You still tremble as you start to suck him, as your cheeks hollow, your tongue lapping at his tip, eliciting a moan. "Oh- f-fuck... there, good girl, good girl."
The strangers praise just stirs you, as you stroke him with your fist gently, as you're sucking him down deeper, cheeks hollowing as you do, as you take him further, his big hands cupping your face gently, as he hits the back of your throat. You're moaning around him, as his brilliant blue eyes watch you, hungry, before he lets out a little whimper, and you feel him twitch in your mouth.
"You're too good at it... m'gonna... fuck where..."
"Cum in my mouth." You say then, and he curses, fucking your throat then, still gentle but more firm, as he presses the back of your head down, tip hitting your uvula, you breathe through your nose.
"Pretty girl... gonna cum... ready?" You nod then, whining, and he's whimpering again, this six foot plus gorgeous man, as he cums, his white brows drawn together, whispering over and over how good you are, as you swallow him down, all his cum dripping down your throat. "Fuck, fuck... open up pretty."
You open your mouth wide, showing you've swallowed him all, and he picks you up then, slamming his lips on yours, as you both taste each other, you're gripping his shirt and feeling his muscles, he's gripping your ass and feeling your curves. You tear into each other, then the door swings wide open, and you all seperate, giggling as you both run out past the onlooker.
You're both kissing over and over, and he frowns then, suddenly so serious, as it hits you both, that the most amazing encounter you've had was just that- one time. That you had to marry tomorrow, and who would he be, what would your connection be like.
"Thank you, for the best night of my life." You say softly, feeling emotions choke up, and his brilliant eyes go glassy.
"Thank you for the best night of my life." He responds, as now your friends are pulling you both in different directions, and soon you're looking out the window, thinking of all of the things coming your way, and a smile on your lips as you think you'll remember this white haired man, forever.
*****
The next morning, you're wearing your veil, as you nervously walk down the aisle, in this huge and gorgeous manor, Gojo manor. You nervously turn then, and you stop in your tracks as you see him, that man... not Suguru Geto, he lied just like you had, you notice with a small smile.
He looks a little lost at first, until he sees you, sees your body, his blue eyes shooting across the aisle, and you grin through your veil, as he smiles, eyes shooting across your body, recognizing it. Suguru shakes his shoulder with a grin, as Nanami smirks. You see Shoko and Utahime grinning on the other side in their pretty dresses as you step up, and Gojo takes your tiny hand in his big one, pressing a kiss like some Disney Prince.
"Well, you're not Shoko." He whispers, eyeing your friend. "She is, little liar."
"And you're not Geto, are you now?" He grins, shaking his head, gently taking off your veil, and exhaling, eyes drinking you in. "You look beautiful." He whispers, and you blink back emotions.
"And you look so handsome, Gojo." He smirks, so charming in his white suit, as you're in your white gown.
"Call me Satoru... or..." He leans close, whispering in your ear. "You can call me Daddy later."
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Hope you enjoyed, anon ty for the request I had funnn <3
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dollwrites · 30 days ago
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ʀᴜᴍ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ɢᴀʟʟᴀɢʜᴇʀ
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!waitress!reader, innocent!reader, dub con, suggested age gap, size kink, thighjob, public play, scent marking. all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act nine [ thigh fucking ]
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“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“One more rum runner, please.”
“My pleasure, I’ll have that right out.”
Dreamjolt Holstery was abuzz, tables full, a slow and sultry jazz melody practically drifting through the air as a pretty Halovian woman in a sparkling dress tickled the ivories with expert and slender fingers. the atmosphere smelled of spices and mixing cologne. cherry-flavored fog curls up from a boulder-shaped man’s cigar in a corner booth by himself. and you traipse the maze of customers needing tending with the grace and elegance befitting your status as Penacony-born. after all, the Dreamscape was like your second home, and you’d learned how to traverse it with ease. the tourists you pass by, table after table full of awed looks and hushed whispers of wonder at the whimsical land they’re vacationing in, never fail to make you smile. happy that they’re enjoying themselves here.
your dress flutters like wings as you pass the empty service bar. usually, that would be your stop. the bartender would make each order you ask for with care, and when it was done, you’d arrange them neatly upon a tray and distribute them throughout the lounge. a familiar twirling, light-footed dance around tables and through aisles of booths. tonight, however, the service bar was darkened. the tender was not there, and that was because it was closed. all through your shift, you’ve had to squish yourself into the packed crowd waiting for drinks at the main bar.
where Gallagher worked, of course.
your cheeks seem to take on a heat at the simple mention of his name in your thoughts. you thought about the scruffy, smirking bartender. how his baritone rumbles, a hound’s growl in his throat, and the syllables of your name drip from his tongue. it makes you weak in the knees, which is why you much prefer when the service bar is open so you can avoid swooning from one, little smolder.
approaching the bar to find not a stool vacant, and not an inch of space without someone taking it up, you sigh softly, attempting to get Gallagher’s attention from the furthest corner, nearest the employee entrance, by waving your hand, though at first he’s immersed in conversation with his patrons. as much as you hated to interrupt, you had your own customers to take care of. “Gallagher!” you call out, waving your hand again, though you were unsure if you were as dwarfed by the crowd as you felt.
thankfully, however, a sleepy-looking moonstone gaze falls upon you, and he makes his way down to you, picking up an order or two on the way. “Gotta get that service bar up and runnin’,” he says in a lazy drawl, reaching to grab two bottles by the necks off the display rack, “what do you need, girlie?” but he didn’t sound annoyed, or rude. in fact, it was difficult not to focus on the little smirk that inched his lips up.
“One more rum runner,” you reply with a sheepish and apologetic bat of your eyelashes. “Then I promise to leave you alone.”
Gallagher chuckles at that, shaking his head as he plucks the run up with the same hand. “Now, that, I wouldn’t even dream of.” he answers, dumping the ingredients into a cocktail shaker. he seems not to notice the way you shy away from him as he works, afraid to look at the way his muscles bulge against the tight confines of his shirt along his biceps as he shakes up the drink, lest you embarrass yourself by staring. if he did, then he didn’t say anything, already giving his attention to the customer ordering right in front of him.
nervously, you drum your fingers on the bartop, trying to look anywhere else. even as his rough, yet light-hearted chuckle warms the aura. your eyes flit downward, to your own fingers, before they follow a little puddle of translucent, glowing liquid that had probably been spilt as he made a drink earlier, but had yet to be wiped up. then, your eyeline, as if pulled by gravity, jumps to to cocktail glass in front of him, and the reddish orange drink that flooded into it. following the arc of his pour, your gaze crests along the thickness of his knuckles, faint scars you can see peeking out from beneath the leather of his fingerless glove, and the sheer size of his hand. up, up, up your stare crawled. along his tan forearm, branded with more criss-cross scarring and thick, dark hair, to the folds in his shirt, rolled up at the elbow whilst he worked. the sloping mountains of his bicep, and along the broad expanse of his shoulder, before you found yourself doing exactly what you had been trying not to— staring at his handsome face. thankfully, he was preoccupied, and didn’t feel you looking. it gave you more time to admire the little details. the fine lines in the corner of his tired eyes, a testament to his age. the sparsely scattered hair above his lip and on his chin, the deep plunge of his nose from the profile view you were given.
“Gall… agher…” you weren’t even certain you’d said it out loud, but your lips most certainly formed the syllables as you admired him. that was, until you realized the rum runner was finished. instead of handing it to you like he had been doing all night, though, he’d set it on the back counter, where the racks of booze were. had he gotten too distracted by conversation? “Gallagher, the drink—“
but he was already busy, making another. his back was to you as he swaggered down to the opposite end of the bar to fulfill another order.
well, that’s no big deal— he’s super busy, and anyway, you can take a couple more steps to grab a drink. pulling on the divider, the staff entrance opens, and you scurry behind the bar. it takes three steps into Gallagher’s domain to reach your order, but you’ve no time to wrap your fingers around the stem of the glass before you feel his imposing, warm figure at your back.
“Finally,” he murmurs, and you shudder at just how close his mouth is to your ear. he must be leaning down to allow his lips to just brush against the shell of it, his breath hot and heavy against the side of your cheek. it raises goosebumps on your arms, and your hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. his arm stretches out, to place a bottle back into it’s home of the shelf in front of you, but it feels more like a maneuver to box you in against the bar. “Been tryin’ to get you back here all night long, girlie.”
“W—why?” you ask, your eyes flickering down to the other side of the bar. one, powerful hand rests upon it, truly caging you in place. “I should really get this out to my table—“ you’d reached for the drink again, the sensation of him at your back like a thick, sturdy wall that radiates heat making you dizzy.
“In a minute,” he stops you, nuzzling his face against your hair. it takes a moment of burrowing before he reaches your neck, sniffing wildly like a beast who’s taken with the aroma of a fresh kill, before he snorts, allowing his lips to dance along the tender column of your neck. “You wanna know something? I’ve kept my eye on you, and let me tell you… That little dress a’yers been driving me wild all night.” his heavy boots crunches of spilled ice as he plants his feet on either side of yours, pressing his body right up against your back. it was then that you felt a bulge, thick and hard, rubbing against your butt through his trousers. you can’t help the embarrassing half-whine that leaves your lips, or the humiliation that follows when he hears it. “You feel it, don’t you, little girl?” he purrs against your skin, the dull edges of his teeth grazing your flawless skin. “How hard you make me, just by skipping around in that skimpy skirt. Your soft, warm thighs on perfect display for me.” one hand slides off the bar to grip your thigh, and you practically melt into his groping. he can nearly close his large fist around your thigh, his fingers brushing up against your panties. a low, guttural sound rumbles in his throat when he feels how warm your core is, and you can’t help the damp patch that is subsequently formed. “Been wanting to get my hands on ya. Feel you just like this. Make you feel me, too.” his other hand disappears now, too, between his body and yours. moments later, you hear the unbuckling of his belt, the undoing of his fly.
“Gallagher—“ it was hard to think, what with the air around you and him thick with lust, and his heavy breath on your neck, but you still managed to stammer out, “th—the drink will get— watery—“
“I’ll make ya a hundred of ‘em after this if it does, so long as you just hush up for a minute, little girl.” he mutters, and frees his aching cock from it’s confines. slipping it under your skirt, he teased the back of your panties with the tip for moment, trailing hot pecks up your neck and along your jaw bone. “Stay just like this, and let me feel those plush thighs squeeze my cock.” pushing the head of his dick along the curve of your panty line, it’s only a matter of moments before it worms it’s way between your thighs, perching your clothed core atop his length. pushing up on to your toes in order to keep your balance, you gasp and grab the edge of the bartop with both hands, but Gallagher has snaked his hands around you, pressing them both flat against your belly to push your body back against him. “That’s a good girl,” he praises gruffly, his hips rolling forward against you. there’s a little resistance at first, before your arousal and his own precum mingle between your thighs and create a sticky, slick cavity for him to fuck. you glance down, breathless, and watch the way his cock jabs against the ruffles in your skirt when he thrusts, and how the bulge disappears when he recoils. the wet cotton of your panties is harsh on your sensitive cunt as it sits flush against the veiny tool pumping between your thighs. “So soft,” he murmurs, before taking your earlobe between his teeth, tugging ever so slightly. “But you’re soaking wet, girlie. You’re making a mess on yourself. That greedy pussy of yours already wants a turn?”
“A—ah, d-don’t…” you feel your humiliation growing with each word, your cheeks on fire and your body trembling. you weren’t asking him to stop, you couldn’t imagine forming those words. “D—don’t say that, it’s dirty…!”
Gallagher chuckles, but it’s hoarse and forced from his lips. “So shy.” he scoffs, taking the flare of your hip against his palm to move your body back and forth, and match his eager rhythm. “For a little thing pinned to the bar, riding my cock. Clenching her pretty, little thighs while I use ‘em just like a sweet. Little. Pussy.” each word is emphasized by a snap of his hips, ramming his girth forward. every throbbing vein on his cock creates a ridge that you feel as it scrapes against your swollen clit, and you mewl with your lips pursed, your imagination running wild with what it would feel like if he’d decided, instead, to push your panties aside and fuck you properly.
“You already feel too good,” Gallagher growls against your cheek, giving it a tender, little kiss. it was a stark juxtaposition to the way his girth pounded the tight gap between your thighs, but it still made you crumble back into his arms, swooning. “Gonna make me cum quick.”
“W—what?” you blinked, suddenly hyper aware. you try to push yourself back up, but the hold he has on your hip and belly keeps you firmly against his heaving chest as he roughly chases his high. “Wh—where are you—“
“Heh.”
it was a half a chuckle, but it was all Gallagher could form before he was grinding his teeth. hips erratically bucking forward, he changes the angle by taking a half a step forward, nearly pushing you over the bar in the process, and his tip jams itself repeatedly and angrily against your panties, each time shooting a rope of his release that clings to the fabric and threatens to tear them open with the force applied. somehow, the soiled, wet fabric holds some of its integrity, even as he empties his balls on to it, allowing his smell to really seep into the fibers and mix with yours. “Even a mutt knows to mark his territory so others don’t claim it.” he hisses after a long moment of listening to his huffing and puffing as he came on your panties.
“Y—your territory?” you repeat, dumbfounded.
with a few more shakes, using his fist to grip his cock and squeeze the last couple of beads from the softening cock, he takes a step back, giving enough space to be able to tuck it back into his pants without a single patron realizing what was going on. you stumble, once you drop down from your sore toes flat on your feet. the warm, wet feeling of Gallagher’s cum deep in the threads of your panties making your legs feel like jelly.
“Mhm, those warm thighs. Your needy, little cunt. Mine now, ain’t they?” he grins down at you, placing a hand against your lower back to keep you steady so you don’t fall. he doesn’t wait for an answer before he uses his free hand to push the rum runner into yours, and he gives you a little nudge to send you stumbling, blinking and dazed after what just happened, out from behind the bar with a playful taunt. “Now, hurry up. Drink’s gettin’ watery.”
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p0orbaby · 3 months ago
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The Dog House
summary: leah misses date night, she tries to make it up to you
warnings: leah being leah i guess…
a/n: based off this request !
word count: 1.2k
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Leah’s been distracted lately. It’s not that you’re not important to her—you are—but there’s a lot going on. Training, media obligations, a sudden obsession with learning to bake sourdough bread for reasons you don’t quite understand. And her house is full of these massive jars of starter that she’s named things like “Gertrude” and “Stephen” and “Samantha.” Stephen’s the strongest one, apparently. Not that you care.
You’re trying to be supportive. Really, you are. But it’s getting weird.
So when you text her a gentle reminder about date night, you’re half-expecting a response that sounds like it’s written by one of those clunky bots—like, “Of course, darling! Can’t wait to see you tonight! ❤️❤️❤️” That’s what she’d usually do. Instead, you get nothing.
Hours pass. You start to get annoyed. Then you get anxious. Then you start wondering if maybe Leah’s planning some big surprise and that’s why she’s not responding. You imagine her secretly arranging a rooftop dinner with fairy lights and a string quartet, where she’ll confess she’s been so preoccupied because she’s actually writing a book about how incredible you are.
But then you come back to reality and grasp she probably just forgot.
By 7 PM, you’re pacing around the flat, wearing the outfit you picked out two days ago—a dress you specifically bought because Leah said you looked “so fucking sexy” in red, even though it’s so tight you can’t even breathe properly. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled, and you’re sitting on the couch, stewing in a potent cocktail of Chanel No. 5 and disappointment.
Finally, you text her again.
> Hey, you on your way?
Nothing.
Ten minutes later, still nothing.
By 8 PM, you’re starting to wonder what the protocol is for someone forgetting a date night. Do you call? Do you show up to their house with a “We need to talk” face? Do you… dump them? No, that’s too extreme, even though it would make a great story for your friends.
Finally, at 8:13, your phone buzzes.
> Shit. Be there in 20. Promise. Don’t hate me
You almost laugh, except you’re too irritated to find anything funny right now. Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes is nothing. She probably still smells like whatever alien protein shakes she drinks after training, which you pretend to like but secretly think taste like a mix of chalk and regret.
But you wait. Because you love her. Or because you’re a sucker. Or both.
Leah arrives at 8:42, disheveled and clearly not sorry enough. She’s holding a Tesco bag, which is never a good sign. Tesco bags mean last-minute attempts at forgiveness, and you don’t care how cute she looks in her sweats.
Okay, you care a little, but still.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as she bursts through the door, dropping the bag for life onto the floor like she’s just run a marathon. “I lost track of time”
You cross your arms and give her a look. The kind of look that says, Really?
“I know, I know,” she continues, talking at a speed that suggests she’s trying to cram a day’s worth of apologies into the next thirty seconds. “I’ve been so caught up with—”
“—Stephen?”
Leah blinks. “Stephen?”
“Your sourdough. Stephen”
“Oh. Right.” Leah runs a hand through her hair, which only makes it messier. “I might’ve forgotten to feed him, too”
“I’m sure he’s devastated,” you say, deadpan.
“I’m devastated,” Leah says, doing her best impression of someone who’s sincerely regretful. She takes a step closer, giving you that puppy-dog look that normally melts you but tonight just feels like she’s trying to disarm a bomb. “But I have a plan”
You raise an eyebrow. “A plan?”
“Yeah. A plan to make it up to you.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s about to reveal a new Tesla or something.
You stare at her, unimpressed. “Does it involve anything that’s not in that bag?”
She laughs, and you can’t help but soften a little. She’s got this laugh that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay, even when she’s screwed up royally.
“Come on,” she says, grabbing the bag and heading to the kitchen. “Trust me. You’ll love it”
You don’t follow her immediately. You want to see how this plays out before you commit to pretending everything is okay. So you stand there in the doorway, watching as she pulls out ingredients that don’t really go together.
“Leah, what exactly are you planning to do with pickles, chocolate syrup, and a single red onion?”
She grins at you like she’s just cracked the code to the universe. “It’s a surprise”
“I’m surprised you even made it here alive if that’s what you’ve been eating lately”
Leah’s grin doesn’t waver. She’s on a mission now, and there’s no stopping her. “Look, just sit down. I’ve got this”
You sit, but mostly because your feet hurt in the heels you’re wearing and the sofa is closer than the bedroom. Leah’s bustling around the kitchen, and you can’t tell if she’s actually cooking or just making noise to buy herself more time.
Minutes later, she emerges with a tray. The tray has candles on it, which is at least a step in the right direction. Then you see what she’s made.
Two plates of what can only be described as… nachos. But they’re not nachos. They’re a weird interpretation of nachos where the tortilla chips have been replaced with some kind of protein bar, the cheese is… okay, there’s no cheese, and the toppings are just random things she found in your fridge.
She sets the tray down in front of you with the pride of a five-star chef presenting their signature dish.
“Voilà!” she announces, beaming.
You stare at the concoction in front of you, then back at her. “Leah, what the hell is this?”
“It’s my way of saying sorry”
You look at her, then at the nachos again. “You could’ve just said ‘I’m sorry’ like a normal person”
“But this is better,” she insists, her enthusiasm unwavering. “It’s like, an experience”
“Yeah, I’m experiencing regret,” you say, eyeing the “nachos” with suspicion.
Leah laughs again, this time a little sheepishly. “Okay, so maybe the food’s not great. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“You’re seriously expecting me to eat this?” you ask, poking at one of the protein bars with your fork like it might bite back.
Leah’s face falls just a little, and suddenly, you realise that she’s actually trying. She’s terrible at this—so, so terrible—but she’s trying.
And that’s why you love her.
“Fine,” you say with a sigh. “But if I get food poisoning, you’re sleeping on the couch”
She grins, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “Deal”
You end up eating the nachos. They’re awful, but Leah’s so happy you’re eating them that you can’t help but smile. She’s sitting there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and you can’t help but remember that this is her way of showing she cares.
After dinner, she pulls out a bottle of wine—an actual, normal bottle of wine—and the two of you sit on the sofa, talking and laughing until you’re both too tired to keep your eyes open.
She falls asleep first, her head on your shoulder, snoring softly. You’re still a little annoyed at her, but you know she’ll make it up to you in other ways. And tomorrow, you’ll probably laugh about this whole thing.
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chaoticforever · 4 months ago
Text
Thunderous Pursuits | Yandere Thor x Male! Reader
Summary: Let this be a lesson to Thor’s old friend. Love is a fragile thing, easily broken by jealous gods. Especially Thor.
A/n: Smut is present.
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Another day of saving the world.
Thor plopped himself down in the booth as his teammates began to settle down beside him. The restaurant the Avengers went to for the evening was a lavish and elegant establishment in New York, with high ceilings, gold chandeliers, and soft, ambient lighting. The walls were painted a deep shade of red, and the booth was comfortable and spacious, with a single red rose adorning the center of the table.
Earlier that afternoon, the Avengers had saved Earth again from yet another alien invasion. To celebrate this victory, Tony decided to take his teammates to a five-star restaurant in the city since some of them hadn't been to one before. He had arranged a private booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant for them to eat.
The God of Thunder opened the menu and gazed through the different choices. Thor didn’t eat earthly food as much, but he was going to enjoy them this evening.
Soon, a waiter approached their booth. 
"Hello, my name is Y/n, and I will be your server tonight," a polite voice addressed. "Can I get y'all started on some drinks?" 
Thor paused when he heard the waiter introduce himself. That voice... he would know that anywhere. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from the menu, and his eyes locked with the person standing near the table.
And, sure enough, it was him.
Y/n L/n.
"Y/n!" Thor's lips curled into a big smile.
The waiter looked up from the pad in his hands when he heard his name called. A fond grin appeared on his face when he saw the individual who called out to him.
"Hi, Thor!" Y/n walked around the table and the God stood up to give him a brief hug before stepping back. "It's so great to see you again. It's been too long, and wow, you cut your hair! It looks amazing."
"Thank you, old friend," Thor boomed, as he took his seat again, his piercing blue eyes never leaving his old friend's form. "It has been so long. I never expected to find you here, a restaurant, of all places."
The other Avengers quietly observed the exchange. They were intrigued by Thor's familiarity with someone the team didn't recognize. After all, they knew of Thor's brief friendships with Darcy and his ex-girlfriend, Jane, but this one was a new face. As they watched the guys interact, it became clear that Thor and his friend had a history that went back a long way.
Steve spoke, "So, Y/n, how do you know Thor? It looks like you two go way back."
The waiter nodded. "We do go way back. Way back. I was once an Asgardian god."
The five Avengers exchanged surprised glances. Clearly, they had not expected such a revelation. But Thor, on the other hand, frowned at Y/n's choice of words.
"Y/n, what do you mean, you 'were once' an Asgardian God?" His tone was sharp with curiosity, and his eyes searched for answers in Y/n's e/c eyes. Why did Y/n voice that? Was he not a God anymore? 
The former Asgardian cleared his throat, a subtle signal that the topic wasn't one he wished to delve into at this moment. "That is a story for another day. But for now, what can I get you heroes to drink?"
Tony was the first one to speak up and he ordered a martini, shaken, not stirred. Steve opted for a Coca-Cola, while Clint chose a cocktail. Natasha requested a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and Bruce kept it simple, ordering a glass of water. However, Thor remained silent, his gaze fixed on Y/n. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts known only to the man.
"Uh, Point Break, it’s your turn," Tony said.
Thor blinked twice, momentarily startled before clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from Y/n. "Aye, my apologies. I will have... uh, what is that earthly drink you mortals enjoy so much?" He looked to Tony for guidance, who rolled his eyes.
"You mean beer? The billionaire supplied.
Thor nodded, turning his gaze back to Y/n. "Yes, I will have a human beer, please."
Y/n nodded and jotted down the orders with swift movements of his pencil. He turned to leave but paused, and asked if they were ready to order food or if they needed more time with the menu. As it turned out, everyone was ready to order.
The male server took their food orders, starting with Tony again, who ordered a steak with sides of mac and cheese and broccoli cheese casserole. Steve opted for a classic bacon cheeseburger and fries, while Clint chose a plate of pasta with garlic bread. Natasha ordered sushi with a side of chicken, and Bruce opted for a massive plate of ribs and mashed potatoes. Thor mirrored Bruce’s choice.
After writing down their food orders, Y/n left, heading to the kitchen and leaving the heroes to their conversation. Thor's eyes followed Y/n's retreating figure, his mind racing with numerous questions.
As the Avengers talked, Thor found it hard to focus. His mind kept wandering back to Y/n, his old friend who was now a waiter. He couldn't shake his curiosity about what happened to Y/n since they last saw each other and the implication that the man had given up his godhood.
"Thor," Natasha's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "It seems like you and Y/n have quite the history. Care to fill us in?" Her tone was inviting, leaving the decision to share entirely up to Thor.
"I've known Y/n since the dawn of time. He came to Asgard as a young adult and we were very close. We fought in battles and went on countless journeys. Though it seems I missed this part of his journey."
Clint, who was sitting across from Thor, arched a brow and gave him a knowing look. "Dude," Clint wiggled his eyebrows. "you have a crush on him, don't you?" It seems that nothing escaped Clint's gaze.
Natasha playfully nudged Clint, as Bruce shook his head. He muttered something about Clint being an idiot though a small chuckle did manage to escape his throat.
A slight pink hue tinted Thor's cheeks. "I certainly do not have a crush on him."
And that was true — Thor did not have a crush on Y/n. On the contrary, what he felt for his old friend ran deeper than a fleeting crush, even after all these years.
A little while later, Y/n returned with two more servers that had trays filled with food and drinks. They carefully placed everything on the table, ensuring that everyone received their ordered meals. "Guys, enjoy your meal, and feel free to flag me down if you need anything else," Y/n then left the Avengers to their meal.
They ate, and the conversation shifted to their recent battle and the close calls they had faced. Thor, once again, found his attention divided between the lively discussion and his silent observations of Y/n as the waiter efficiently moved between tables, tending to other people.
He needed to speak with him.
So, when the dinner concluded and Tony paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for Y/n's exceptional service, the group began to make their way out toward the waiting limo. However, Thor lingered behind, his eyes seeking out Y/n, who was clearing a table. Thor made his way over to him.
"Y/n," Thor’s voice was low and serious, causing Y/n to pause in his clearing and looked up at Thor, "a word if you please." 
Y/n straightened up and offered a smile. "Of course, Thor. What can I do for you?"
"I must know, old friend, everything that has happened in your life up until now."
Y/n's smile remained unwavering. "And I'll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow. Meet me in Central Park at twelve o'clock. You and I will catch up."
The thunderous God nodded, feeling satisfied with that arrangement as he placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Until tomorrow, my friend. I look forward to it."
As Y/n walked away with dishes in his hands, Thor's eyes trailed after him. Why was his friend working as a server in a human restaurant? What had happened to him in Asgard? And most importantly, why'd he say he 'was once' an Asgardian God? Thor had his suspicions about the last question, but he still needed to get the missing piece of the puzzle from Y/n.
The only plausible explanation for Y/n's situation was that Y/n must have been stripped of his powers and made mortal, much like Odin had done to him before.
But the question remained: why? There were only two ways for a god to lose their powers: either through transferring their consciousness into another mortal body or by having their powers forcibly taken away. Y/n still inhabited the same body for centuries, automatically ruling out the first option. This left Thor with the conclusion that someone must have taken his powers, and he hoped that his dad hadn't been involved in such an act.
Suddenly, the restaurant door opened, and Bruce's voice rang out. "Thor, come on! Tony said you have thirty seconds to get out here or he's telling the limo driver to pull off without you. Let's get moving."
With a playful roll of his eyes at Tony's impatience, Thor followed Bruce out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo.
The limo glided through the city streets on the way back to the Compound, and Thor's thoughts inevitably drifted to Y/n. He recalled the curve of his lips when he smiled, the way the black waiter's attire highlighted his handsome features, and Clint's accusation about having a crush.
Indeed, as Thor had voiced earlier, it was more than a crush. The love he felt for Y/n ran deeper than mere infatuation, and it had only bloomed stronger over time.
One thing's for sure: over the years, Y/n had been the object of Thor's late-night fantasies more times than he cared to admit, even during his semi-relationship with Jane. Y/n was the main reason he couldn't fully commit to her. The thought of having Y/n beneath him, moaning his name while begging for release, was a desire Thor had harbored for some time. 
In Thor's mind, he felt that this was an opportunity given to him. It was clear to Thor that their paths had crossed again for a reason — because they were meant to be together. Why else would they have reconnected now — when Y/n seemingly needed him? It was a sign from the gods. So, he would first speak to Y/n, and then the two could focus on their relationship.
Thor couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 
XXXXX XXXXX
The wait until the next day felt like an eternity for the God of Thunder. He was so ready to see Y/n once more and learn about everything that had transpired in his life recently. He knew that Y/n would be there on time; it was in their nature to honor commitments, no matter how tiny.
Finally, the clock struck twelve, and Thor found himself standing in Central Park. The sun shone brightly, its rays dancing through the leaves of the trees, casting dappled shade on the grass, and a nice breeze stirred in the air. As he ventured further into the park, his eyes spotted a familiar figure sitting at a bench beneath the sprawling branches of a big oak tree.
There, casually leaning back against the bench with one leg casually slung over the other, was Y/n. He looked utterly at ease, dressed in a simple white tee and faded jeans. The outfit accentuated his nice, broad shoulders, and Thor's eyes wandered appreciatively over Y/n’s body.
He looked good.
Real good.
Thor's footsteps quickened, his eagerness to reunite properly with his old friend unmistakable. He knows that he just saw him yesterday, but the short amount of time wasn't enough to satisfy his longing for his company. Y/n noticed Thor approaching and gave him a slight smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Hey, Y/n," Thor greeted, his voice warm and deep. He extended his hand, and Y/n took it, letting Thor pull him into a hug.
"It's good to see you, T-Man," Y/n replied, using the old nickname he had for Thor. Hearing it now made Thor's heart flutter, and he loved the way it rolled off his lips.
Settling onto the bench, Thor's curiosity got the better of him. He knew that Y/n held the answers to the many questions swirling in his mind. So, without further ado, he decided to dive straight into the heart of the matter, forgoing the human tendency to beat around the bush now.
"My dear comrade," Thor began, his eyes locked intensely on Y/n. "You have much to tell me, and I am eager to hear it. How is it that Y/n, son of Hera and Zeus, God of Time, finds himself here on Midgard, serving mortals as a waiter? The last I heard, you were a protector of this realm."
The former God clasped his hands in his lap but he maintained eye contact with Thor. It was always customary to look someone in the eyes when speaking.
"I was the protector of this realm," he confirmed, "But your father and I had our fair share of disagreements. He deemed me reckless and unworthy, and in a fit of anger, he stripped me of my powers and banished me here to Midgard. I've been living as a mortal for almost two years."
A frown marred Thor's handsome features as he listened to Y/n's words, his eyebrows knitting together in anger. Stripped of his powers and exiled here — it was a brutal punishment, one that stirred a protective instinct within the God of Thunder. He knew firsthand the pain of being stripped of one's powers. The idea of Y/n, the mighty God of Time, being reduced to working at a job, was an insult to everything they stood for.
"That old fool!" Thor growled, feeling his anger rising. "To treat you, another God who has served Asgard for thousands of years with such cruelty is an outrage. He cannot keep doing this to people like us," he took Y/n's hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze, and Thor felt a burning desire to set things right. "Rest assured, I'll find a way to have him restore your abilities."
Y/n shook his head. "There's no need for that. I've accepted my fate as a mortal, and in some ways, I enjoy being human."
Thor's eyebrows ascended. "You do?"
Thor's surprise was evident on his face. The tall God remembered all too well the emotions that had consumed him when he was stripped of his powers and sent to Earth — the anger, the bitterness, and the overwhelming sense of tiredness that came with realizing that walking as a mortal was far more challenging than he had anticipated with long distances.
The waiter nodded in confirmation. "I do. There are some drawbacks to being human, like getting tired and injured, and I do miss being able to manipulate time. But being human granted me a freedom I never experienced before," Y/n paused, a faraway look in his eyes as if recalling a fond memory. "And I even found love."
Suddenly, the air in Central Park seemed to grow thick with each passing second. The once-bright sun was now concealed by the gathering of dark storm clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, menacing growl that echoed through the trees. Additionally, the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of impending rainfalls.
Lightning crackled around the god's left fingertips, a visual manifestation of his rising emotions. His vision darkened at Y/n's words, and he gently withdrew his right hand from Y/n's grasp. Did Y/n just say what he thinks he just said? He had—
Y/n had found love. The word "love" reverberated through Thor like a strike of lightning, sending an unwelcome jolt of awareness through him. Love implied intimacy, tangled limbs, and passionate kisses. The thought of Y/n sharing such closeness with someone else awakened a surge of possessiveness through him.
Sensing the change in the weather, Y/n glanced up, noticing the dark clouds that had gathered. He looked around, seeing people leaving the park, then he turned his gaze to the man sitting next to him.
"Uh, Thor?"
Hearing his name, Thor snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and took a steady breath, consciously calming himself. As a response, the clouds above dissipated, replaced by the hot sun. The harsh wind softened, and the lightning that crackled from his fingertips faded away without a trace. The weather returned to normal.
"Love?" Thor echoed, his tone carefully neutral; he grappled with the unfamiliar emotion swirling within him. He tamped down the spike of jealousy, not wanting to seem possessive or unfair. They had been apart for years now, living separate lives, so what right did he have to claim Y/n's heart? And yet, the thought of Y/n being intimate with a male or a female stirred a possessive hunger deep within him, a feeling he had never experienced before, not even during his brief period with Jane. "Who is this person that has captured your heart?" He dangerously murmured disguised as casual curiosity.
Y/n smiled softly. "Her name is Maya."
"And how did you come to meet Maya?" Thor asked, his tone carefully controlled, even as that name rolled off his tongue like a sweet poison. But he schooled his features, keeping his emotions in check.
"Well, when I was sent to Earth, I found myself in the middle of an open road at night. Maya accidentally hit me with her car, but she took me into her apartment to rest up and recover. We spent a lot of time together, and eventually, we started dating as they say. She's a great woman."
A jaw clenched; Thor's teeth grinded as he forced himself to remain composed. So, Y/n had found love with this... Maya. "I see," his fingers curled into a fist. "And Is she aware of your past?" Y/n nodded silently in response. "Where is she now?"
The h/c-haired male seemed completely oblivious to the undercurrents of Thor’s jealousy as he spoke. "Maya had a hair appointment today, but she should be here soon, and you'll get to meet her."
Can't wait, Thor thought. He needed to see this Maya, to put a face to the name that now felt like a curse on his tongue. But more than that, he wanted to assert his presence, to let Maya know that Y/n was his first and would always belong to him. Furthermore, he would make sure—
"There you are, Y/n!" 
Instantly, Thor's head whipped around to see a female approaching their bench. This must be Maya. Her dark hair fell in loose waves down to her back, perfectly complementing her complexion and her radiant smile. She wore a comfortable denim jeans jumpsuit that hugged her hips, showcasing her curvaceous figure.
"About time you got here," Y/n stood to greet her with a soft smile, leaning down to brush his lips on her cheek. Her arms wrapped around him, and the affection between the couple was as clear as day.
"Sorry, I had to get my coffee. You know how I get," Maya let out a soft chuckle, her eyes widening as she looked over at the person sitting on the bench with her boyfriend. "Y-You're Thor!" she turned to Y/n again. "You did not tell me your old friend was the Thor from the Avengers!"
Y/n held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you knew I was a god at one point, and that I'd be meeting an old friend. Who's the one, popular god that's currently running around New York City?"
"Still, you could've mentioned it was an Avenger!" Maya exclaimed, turning back to The god, who had been observing the exchange with a neutral expression. She held out her hand for him to shake. "It's so nice to meet you, Thor. I'm a big fan!"
Standing from the bench, Thor's tall and muscular frame towered over Maya, but not Y/n, who stood at a similar height. He shook Maya's hand gently, his gaze flickering briefly to Y/n's. "It's a pleasure to put a face to the name of the woman who has stolen my friend's heart," Thor's voice held an underlying current of quiet possession that the other two didn’t pick up on. "He has told me things about you."
"Oh, has he? Only good things, hopefully."
"I promise, only good things, babe," Y/n assured, his eyes shifting briefly to Thor. "So, Maya and I were just about to go to the carnival. Do you want to tag along?"
The God shook his head. "Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline. I have matters that require my attention back at the Avengers Compound." As much as Thor longed to spend more time with Y/n, he did not want to be a third wheel or see these two being affectionate.
The woman nodded in understanding. "I understand. You have the world to save and all. Perhaps next time if you're free."
"Most definitely," Thor agreed, his eyes following Y/n and Maya as they walked away, with Y/n's left hand in Maya's right.
A frustrated growl rumbled in Thor's throat as he raked a hand through his newly trimmed brown hair. This reunion had not gone as he had envisioned. He had imagined catching up on old times, and perhaps, even confessing his long-held feelings for Y/n. But, unfortunately, Maya's presence had ruined his plans.
The desire to remove this woman from the equation burned within Thor, and he knew there was only one way to do that. However, he understood that any harm brought upon Maya would hurt Y/n, and he didn't want to see his old friend hurt. Therefore, Thor decided to let Maya be.
At least, for now.
XXXXX XXXXX
In all honesty, Thor had been planning to return to the Compound. The thought of witnessing someone else's affection for Y/n was too much to bear. He had turned around, prepared to walk in the opposite direction when he changed his mind.
He turned back, deciding to secretly join Y/n and Maya at the carnival. He needed to see for himself the depth of Maya's love for Y/n when they were together.
The God maintained a discreet distance as he trailed secretly behind Y/n and his unfortunate girlfriend, not wanting them to realize he was following them. A few minutes later, he watched as the couple purchased their admission tickets and walked into the carnival, their hands still entwined. Thor lingered at the entrance, his eyes fixed on their retreating figures.
Thor paused at the entrance of the carnival, his mind formulating a plan. With the money Tony had generously provided, he decided to purchase a cap and sunglasses from the nearby store, employing a tactic he had learned from his time with the Avengers — infiltrating places and staying hidden in plain sight.
After getting his disguise, Thor paid for an admission ticket and stepped inside. 
The carnival was alive with the scent of cotton candy, popcorn, and funnel cake, mingling with both the excited chatter of children and the loud music blaring from speakers. People of all ages were there today, laughing and screaming as they rode roller coasters, tested their luck at games, and snacked on delicious foods.
Hidden behind sunglasses and a black cap, Thor moved with the crowd, his tall frame blending seamlessly into the sea of humans. His sharp eyes scanned the area, searching for the man he desired.
And as Thor navigated the carnival, his frustration mounted with each passing minute. He searched in vain for any sign of the couple, eyes scanning the crowds for Y/n and Maya, but couldn't find them anywhere. Heat started burning in Thor's chest that had nothing to do with the hot weather — but was rather fueled by his rising impatience and possessiveness.
"Damn it, where are they?" He muttered under his breath, irritation in his voice.
Thor quickened his pace.
Dodging between families and groups of teenagers, he walked past the game booths, bumper cars, and food stations.
His determined search finally paid off as he spotted Y/n's distinctive profile at the milk bottle toss game booth, a ball in his hands as he prepared to throw it. Maya stood behind him, holding a sundae cup with two spoons, as she cheered Y/n on.
Adjusting his sunglasses, Thor stepped closer to them. He watched as his friend threw the ball and knocked over a stack of milk bottles with accuracy. That didn’t surprise Thor; Y/n had been a seasoned warrior for thousands of years, after all.
The man behind the booth handed Y/n a stuffed animal—a tan plush dog— which Y/n then gave to Maya. Her smile lit up her face when she received the nice gift.
The couple walked away, sharing the sundae and laughing together. Thor's fists clenched at his sides as he fought the instinct to march over and pull Maya away — to claim what was rightfully his.
Instead, Thor forced himself to maintain a cool and distant demeanor, following his prey. He remained hidden, observing their interactions without them knowing. He kept his distance as the couple rode roller coasters, played more games, and indulged in stupid affectionate gestures. Throughout it all, Thor's anger bubbled, especially when Y/n had the audacity to cup Maya's cheek and kiss her softly.
That did it.
Thor knew he had promised himself that he wouldn't hurt Maya for Y/n's sake, not wanting to see him unhappy. But — after witnessing their interactions throughout the day, something snapped within him, and he didn't care about his promise. He decided that Y/n was meant to be happy with him — and him alone. The thought of anyone else having Y/n's heart was unbearable, and Thor found himself no longer caring about the consequences. He had no choice but to get rid of Maya.
On Friday night, Maya was leaving her workplace alone, while Y/n was at work. The night air was crisp, carrying a hint of a chill, as the streetlights casted orange glows along the pavement. Thor silently followed her. He kept a careful distance, mirroring her movements: walking when she walked, turning the corner when she turned, and stopping when she stopped. He hid when she turned around as if she knew somebody was trailing behind her.
A gust of wind rustled the leaves. Maya shivered from the cool, spring weather and pulled her jacket tighter, quickening her pace considerably. Her eyes glanced but she saw no one there. Unbeknownst to her, the threat loomed closer than ever.
As Maya passed an alleyway, the wind picked up again, and she felt a sense of unease. She stilled, feeling like she was being watched, "H-Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Is someone there?"
Silence answered her, but Maya could've sworn she felt eyes boring into her back. She turned around, but the alleyway was empty. With a sense of unease lingering, she began walking, her steps faster now as she hurried towards the safety of her home, never pausing. Finally, she arrived at her apartment building and sauntered inside, the door closing firmly behind her.
As Maya set her keys down on the table and turned around, she let out a startled gasp at the sight of Thor standing there.
Quickly, Thor locked the top and bottom locks, feeling satisfaction from noticing the fear that flashed through her eyes.
Good, Thor thought, satisfied, be scared.
XXXXX XXXXX
The morning sun's rays filtered through the thin curtains, their warmth caressing Y/n's features, gently waking him up. He stretched languidly, and sat up, yawning. Then, the e/c-eyed man opened his eyes completely and headed to the bathroom.
One of the first things Y/n incorporated into his life as a mortal man was a nice skincare regimen. Maya had explained to him that humans often used facial masks to keep their skin clear and free from acne. In his previous life as a god, Y/n had never had to worry about such concerns, as his skin had always been flawless. Without his powers, however, he now found himself susceptible to the same skin issues that plagued mortals. So, he used these facial skin care masks.
Though Y/n can admit that he quite enjoyed these face masks. The soft texture against his skin was surprisingly wonderful, and the masks worked great.
He feels like his sister, Aphrodite.
After completing his morning routine, he grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, already prepared, as he dialed Maya's number. The ringing tone echoed aloud and was greeted by her voicemail.
The phone heading straight to voicemail didn't entirely surprise Y/n. He knew that she loved sleeping in after a hectic work week. He decided to pay her a surprise visit since he had been given a spare key.
Y/n opened the door and was prepared to step through it when his feet paused and looked down, suddenly noticing the white envelope on the ground. Frowning in confusion, he bent down to pick it up, his eyes scanning the words inscribed on the envelope: "To Y/n, From Maya."
Intrigued, Y/n opened the envelope, his eyes reading over the paragraph, and the frown on Y/n’s features deepened. Huh—
The note read: My dearest Y/n,
Hope all is going well. I just wanted you to know that you’ll always have a special place in my heart, and our relationship is the best thing that ever happened to me.
It pains me to say this, but, to be honest, I have fallen out of love. Our relationship has run its course, and I think we are no longer meant to be. My love for you has faded like a flower wilting under the sun.
Please know that this was an incredibly difficult decision for me, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
I wish you nothing but happiness. May you continue to find love and fulfillment in life. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again when we least expect it. Until that happens tho, farewell, my love.
With a heart full of memories,
Maya. 
The note left Y/n stunned and confused. Maya had seemed happy and content in their relationship. How could she just fall out of love and walk away like this? It didn't make sense to him in the least. There's no way this letter could be real.
What—? Huh—? More questions plagued his mind as he couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and hurt. What had he done wrong? Had he pushed her away without realizing it? Or was there someone else?
Shaking his head, Y/n left his apartment building and headed straight for Maya's place. He needed to hear the reason for her decision from her own mouth, rather than reading it on a piece of paper. That wasn't fair to him and he deserved more.
Y/n's footsteps echoed hurriedly against the pavement as he hurried along the streets, rounding corners and navigating crosswalks. Finally, he arrived at Maya's place and hastily knocked on the door.
There was no response.
Then, Y/n inserted the spare key into the lock, twisted it, and marched inside. He stepped further into the room and called out to Maya when he noticed something.
Maya's apartment was empty.
It was completely devoid of her personal belongings — no furniture, decorations, nothing at all. He searched every room, drawer, and closet, but found no trace of her here. It was as if she never lived here.
Y/n pulled out his phone and tried to call Maya again — but it just went straight to voicemail. The realization sank in — this letter wasn't a joke or a prank. Maya had surely left him, and she hadn't even had the decency to do it in person or provide a proper explanation for her decision.
It was a hurtful and callous way to end their relationship. That's so messed up.
Y/n's hands balled into fists at his sides, the letter crumpling within his grasp. He felt a prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes, and he realized that he was experiencing two very human emotions:
Crying and heartbreak.
Y/n knew that gods experience human emotions such as crying, too. But now that Y/n was human, the experience felt different. In that moment, he understood the depths of his feelings for Maya. This was why mortals spoke of love as both a blessing and a curse — it can give you joy but could also inflict unbearable pain.
He exited Maya's apartment building, the crumpled letter still clutched in his hand, a tangible reminder of what he had lost. His eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, were facing downward as he walked, his thoughts consumed by these emotions. It was this lack of focus that caused him to accidentally bump into someone else, knocking their umbrella from their hand.
Crouching down, Y/n wrapped his hand around the umbrella to pick it up, but he found that he couldn't. Y/n bent down to retrieve the fallen umbrella, however, to his surprise, he found that he couldn't lift it. He tried with both hands this time, but the umbrella remained stubbornly out of reach. Jeez, this simple umbrella feels as hard as trying to lift Thor's hammer—
Wait a minute.
Y/n's eyes drifted upward, and he found Thor standing there, which means this umbrella was Thor's hammer in disguise.
"Oh, hi, Thor." Y/n’s voice came out soft, despite the emotions currently coursing through his mind, releasing his hold on the hammer. "Might want to pick that up."
Thor complied, lifting the hammer, eyes fixed on Y/n's e/c eyes. "Are you okay?"
Y/n’s response was quick. "Yes, I’m fine." 
Unconvinced by Y/n's fake composure, Thor placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. "You know you don't have to pretend to be okay when it comes to me. You can tell me anything."
Finally, Y/n conceded. "Maya left me. Out of the blue, she broke things off and disappeared, and I don't understand why."
Thor's eyes softened, and he pulled Y/n into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry to hear that," his voice was, unknowingly, laced with feigned sympathy. "That lady doesn't deserve the honor of your love."
Unbeknownst to Y/n, a smirk played on Thor's lips, his eyes gleaming with a mix of vindication and triumph. He didn't like seeing Y/n in pain, but it was necessary.
The pain was only temporary, and Y/n would eventually get over this simple mortal. Then, there would be room for Thor, and they could finally be together.
In the weeks that followed, Y/n slipped into a deep depression. He spent most days lying in bed, thoughts consumed by the memories of Maya. He questioned everything, from his own worthiness to the nature of love itself. He didn't get it. Why had she left? Was he truly enough? These thoughts ate away at him — like maggots devouring the flesh of the dead.
Additionally, the only thing that stirred him from his bleak existence was his work. The familiarity of the restaurant, the mechanical tasks of serving tables, provided a fleeting sense of normalcy.
And throughout it all, there was only one person who was there for him — Thor.
The God of Thunder checked in on him regularly, offering words of comfort and support for his pal. He brought takeout, watched movies with him, and listened as the man poured out his heart, sharing his heartbreak and confusion. Thor was a great presence during his time of need.
In Thor's presence, he found himself smiling more. His appetite returned, and the dark circles under his eyes gradually faded. Y/n felt a little like himself again.
One evening, after Y/n finished his shift at the restaurant, he found himself with Thor in his bedroom. A movie played in the back, but they were too engrossed in conversation to pay attention to it. Thor had asked Y/n about his deepest desire.
"Well, being here on Earth for a long time made me desire love the most," was his admission as Y/n thought back to when he thought he had found love. "It seems that love is the emotion humans desire the most. I guess I'm one of them too."
Thor's eyes roamed over Y/n's face as if searching for something. And then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned in closer, his thumb gently stroking the back of Y/n's hand, sending shivers down his spine.
"I can give you the love you crave, Y/n," Thor murmured, voice deep and husky, his thumb continuing its gentle caress.
Y/n sat up straighter, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television, their conversation now the sole focus.
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.
"I mean," Thor's voice rumbled. "I can show you what it means to be desired."
Y/n opened his mouth to ask the man to elaborate when Thor surged forward, his left hand cupping the back of Y/n’s neck and capturing his lips in a brutal kiss. Y/n gasped into the kiss as Thor's tongue, invaded his mouth, tasting and claiming, leaving no doubt about his intentions. 
E/c eyes widened in surprise at this, but Y/n didn’t immediately pull away. Thor's kiss was demanding, possessive as his free arm wrapped around Y/n, placing a hand on his back, pulling him closer. Y/n could feel Thor's hardness against his left thigh, straining against the fabric of his pants, and he moaned into the kiss.
Suddenly, Y/n pulled away slightly, breathless. "Thor, I—"
"Shh," Thor placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "You want this, Y/n. You want my touch, my possession. Admit it, and I'll give you the love that you desire. You’ll forget all about that mortal, Maya." 
Stunned by this turn of events, Y/n could only manage a breathless, "Alright," he knew that he did crave this intimacy and always found Thor attractive. He wanted to feel that type of intimacy once more.
Suddenly, he felt the powerful urge to assert his agreement more physically, more explicitly. So, he pushed Thor onto his back, straddling his muscular thighs.
A devilish smile curved Thor's lips as he tugged on Y/n's shirt, eager to taste the body of the guy that he had daydreamed about countless times. With a sharp tug, buttons flew across the room, revealing smooth skin and toned muscles beneath.
"Dangerous move, little waiter," Thor murmured, his hands roaming across Y/n's chest, thumbs grazing perky nipples that tightened, hardened from his touch. "Now, I get to have my way with you."
Then, Thor trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Y/n's jawline and down his neck. His teeth scraped gently over Y/n's pulse point, nipping and sucking until a dark bruise formed. Y/n's breath hitched as Thor's hand glided lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of his sweatpants.
"You like it when I touch you, don't you?" Thor whispered, his hot breath fanning across Y/n's ear, "Tell me what you want."
Y/n craned his neck to allow Thor better access to his neck and shoulders. "I... I want you to touch me, Thor. Everywhere."
Thor didn’t need a further invitation. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of Y/n's pants, exploring the terrain of his six-pack abs before dipping lower. Y/n arched his back, his breath catching as calloused fingers brushed against the length of his already long, stiff cock.
"You're so hard for me, little one," Thor murmured, fingers teasing the outline of Y/n's length before pulling away. "I want to see it. Want to watch it throb for me."
With trembling fingers, Y/n removed his pants, sliding the fabric down his legs, along with his boxers. His cock twitched eagerly, the head already glistening with pre-cum. He had never been so aroused, so desperate to be touched and taken.
Thor's eyes darkened with desire as he reached for Y/n's cock, stroking it firmly, his right thumb teasing the sensitive slit. "That's it, my beautiful God. Let me see you. Show me how much you want this."
The former God's lips parted on a moan, his hips involuntarily bucking into Thor's hand quickly. "Please, Thor... don't stop."
Thor smirked, the possessive gleam in his eyes undeniable. "I plan to take this much further.  But first, I want a taste..."
And with that, Thor leaned down, his hot breath tickling the head of Y/n's cock before his tongue darted out, licking a thick stripe up the underside. Y/n cried out, his hips jerking at the unexpected pleasure, and Thor chuckled, the sound vibrating against Y/n's sensitive flesh.
"So responsive," Thor murmured, his lips wrapping around Y/n's hardness as he sucked and teased with practiced skill.
Y/n threaded his fingers through Thor's hair, his head falling back as sensations bombarded him. Thor's tongue swirled and twirled, his lips sucking on his cock, driving Y/n wild with need. He looked up at Y/n through his eyelashes, reveling in the sight of his pleasure-clouded eyes, and he sucked Y/n's length deep into his mouth, his hands caressing Y/n's thighs, thighs that now tremble with anticipation.
"Please, Thor," Y/n begged, his voice raw with need. "I want to feel you inside me."
Thor released Y/n's cock from his mouth with a lewd pop, saliva dripping from his lips as his fingers unfastened his pants. "Time to see what a real god looks like."
Thor sat up, his eyes flashing with promise as he slowly revealed his thick, veiny cock. Y/n's mouth went dry at the sight, his own spent cock twitching with some renewed interest. Reaching inside the nightstand, Thor discovered a bottle of lube and slicked up his cock for Y/n.
"Damn, Thor, that's huge," Y/n whispered his gaze devouring every inch of Thor's masculine glory. "Even bigger than mine."
A smug grin stretched across Thor's face as he pushed Y/n back against the bed, kicking off his pants in the process. "Get a good look at this and commit this to your memory and your heart, because I intend to make you scream my name."
With that promise ringing in the air, Thor climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/n’s thighs and lining up the tip of his cock with his entrance. 
"Tell me you want this, Y/n. Tell me you want me to fill you up." Thor's voice was low and commanding, his eyes intense.
Y/n nodded eagerly, his breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, Thor. I want you. Please, take me. I need you inside me."
Hmm, Thor mused and pressed forward, his thick cock breaching Y/n with a slow, relentless thrust. Y/n cried out, his back arching off the bed as he was stretched wider than Y/n could remember. Thor paused, giving him a moment to adjust, but the reprieve was simply short-lived.
Thor began moving, his powerful thrusts driving Y/n into a euphoric haze. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound joined by the lewd slapping of skin and Y/n's loud moans as Thor’s hips moved.
"That's it, take it," The God of Thunder let out a growl, hands gripping Y/n's hips to gain better leverage. "You feel too good wrapped around my cock. I've dreamed of this... dreamed of claiming you, babe."
Y/n's eyes squeezed shut as he clung to Thor, his nails digging into the tall God's broad shoulders. "Oh, Thor, right there," he gasped, his entire body trembling on the edge of release. "Damn, I'm so close."
Thor's pace quickened, breath coming in hot, ragged gasps. "Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded, causing Y/n's eyes to snap open, his gaze locking with Thor's, and the Avenger's hand found his cock once again. "You make me feel like a true God. I could fuck you forever, but right now, I want you to come for me."
"Oh... fuck..." 
In response to Thor's words, Y/n's body tightened like a coil, and he came with a hoarse cry, his release coating Thor’s fingers. Then, Thor emptied himself into Y/n, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm, painting Y/n’s ass hole in ribbons of white. He maintained eye contact with Y/n the whole time. Mine.
Panting and sweaty, Thor pulled out of Y/n and they collapsed against the bed, hearts beating fast from their encounter.
Thor pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's lips, his hands stroking the sweat-dampened skin of Y/n's torso. "You're incredible, Y/n. We were always meant to be together."
This was a known fact, and tonight was simply proof of their love for each other. Now, he needed to make sure Maya was fully out of the picture (Thor forced her to write that note to Y/n, and had set up a secret camera in Y/n's apartment, the footage transmitted to a hidden monitor in another location where he kept Maya chained and captive). Now that she had seen the love between them, he would tell Heimdall to execute her, ensuring she posed no threat to their happiness again.
Now, all that remained was for Odin to restore Y/n's powers. Then, they would be together forever, unburdened by the constraints that mortality has on people.
Just as it was meant to be. 
XXXXX XXXXX
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hsmagazine254 · 1 year ago
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Crafting Magical Moments: Call J.K. Florists For Your Mehndi Function
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her-favorite · 3 months ago
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LIVE NOW; M. STURNIOLO
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MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER
warnings: SMUT, (soft)dom!matt/sub!reader, one night stand, praise kink, MATT THE MUNNCHHH!!!
wc: 4,860
a/n: REQUESTED! - guys i only specified the drink bc one of the lyrics is “been drinking something blue” which is apparently a cocktail so that’s why!! - ALSO i obvi know the triplets are from boston, but for the sake of this story (and for it obviously being fiction) and it matching up with the song, a lot of it isn’t matched up to their lives/living arrangements!!
SYNOPSIS: When you and your friends make plans to go to the bar, the last thing you expected to see was a man that captivated you so dangerously.. another thing you didn’t see coming was the way you immediately fell for him..
taglist!: @chrissv4mp (i hope you like it 🫶🏻) @mattybsgroupie @jetaimevous @emotionalblues @y0urval3ntine @mattstrombolii
-
Matthew Sturniolo was a heart breaker.. at least that’s what you labeled him as.
You met him on a night out when you were visiting Boston. You and your friends had planned a night out down at the bar. Chatting to each other, your eyes couldn’t help but catch on the backside of a man that was talking with the bouncer. His arms were crossed, but one of his hands would occasionally move out to gesture about whatever he was talking about.
He wore a loose brown t-shirt, paired with cargo pants that were a lighter shade of brown than his shirt. Scattered tattoos covered his left arm as they immediately caught your attention, some covered by his sleeve. A backwards hat was placed on his head. The dim lighting of the area made his eyes more noticeable, the blue hue hypnotizing compared to the black sky.
It was obvious what he was doing.. especially when he went for a handshake.
The man started to make his way inside, but not without looking back as he spares a fleeting glance to you. Even at the slight glimpse of him, a shiver had passed through you. The dark, faulty lamp above the door had accentuated his already sharp features, mesmerizing you.
“Y/N, hello?” Your friend snapped you out of your daze, quite literally snapping her fingers. You blink before realizing, quickly catching up with your group and following them as they make their way up to the bouncer.
“Sorry.” You mumble, though you knew no one could hear. Showing your ID’s, the muscular guard deems you guys access - though, clearly he doesn’t care about who he lets in as long as he gets the money for it.
Stepping inside, your eyes wander the unfamiliar area. It was a nice place - people talking and dancing, no spilt drinks coating the floor or angry drunk men lashing out for no reason - no, this place looked clean, upstanding. Your friends rush to find an empty table, but you part from them as you head to the bar. Sitting down on an unoccupied seat, you patiently wait for the bartender to come by and take your order as your eyes still dart around the new place.
As soon as the bartender makes his rounds, he saddles up over by you. “What can I get you?” He asks, a heavy Boston accent seeping through his words.
“Can I get ‘something blue’?” You ask, tapping your fingers on the bar table. You make eye contact with him as he nods, mumbling a, “sure.” You subtly watch the way he skillfully makes the drink, impressed by how easy he makes it look. Once he hands it to you, you send him a polite smile before sipping on it as your eyes wander around to see if you could find your friends.
Before you could locate them, you hear the chair beside you squeak as a presence makes itself known. Not being able to stop yourself, your head turns to find out who it is. The same man that you were watching when you were outside sat beside you, a charming smile on his pretty pink lips. He looked even more handsome close up, defined cheekbones sticking out as his blue eyes illuminate from the lighting of the club.
Introductions were made as you sip on your blue drink, Matt’s matching colored eyes watching the way your lips wrap around the glass. His attitude was captivating, a sweet, but inexplicable quality about him that drawn you so close to him somehow. You didn’t know what it was - he was beyond attractive, of course, but that wasn’t it. Something about him was just so charming; the way he held himself, the way he talked to you with respect, but left some room for a few jokes, a chuckle leaving your lips every time.
It was no doubt he had people at their knees for him.
As his hand creeps forward, it hovers over your thigh before he speaks up. “Can I do this?” Matt hums, his eyes following yours. At your nod, his lips curl up as his large palm settles on your skin, the dress you decided to wear riding up because of your sitting position. His touch felt nice, like there was no malice or hostility behind it. His palm was chilly, despite the warm, sweaty air that surfaced the busy bar, sending a shiver down your spine.
Matt notices as his smirk only widens, his thumb grazing your skin softly as he rubs small circles on it. His inhales through his nose as he looks around the place, noticing his two brothers chatting with a friend they met up with - given, that’s what Matt was supposed to be doing. But as soon as he saw you outside, he knew he had to have you. Your pretty face, your figure in your dress, the eye contact you made with him.. he hadn’t even talked to you and he was already captivated. He needed your attention.
Your eyes watch the way he searches the place, giving you the perfect opportunity to reach for your phone. Turning it on with a tap to the screen, you read the time before silencing the notifications. Licking your lips, as the taste of the alcohol lingers, you set your phone back down just in time for when Matt turns back to you. Your blown pupils study the way his pink tongue slides over his top teeth, your desires only growing as the seemingly innocent act sends heat down your body.
The music blares in the club as your ears finally tune it in again. The entire conversation with Matt made your ears only focus on him, not the loud, shitty music or the obnoxious laughing that sounds from inside the club. It felt like you were sitting here for hours talking to him, though, it’s only been several minutes.. at least, that’s what you’d guess.
An idea pops into your head as the song flows through your ears. Taking a deep breath, you decide to jump the gun as you say, “Wanna dance?” You’ve never asked anyone to dance before at a bar, let alone found someone you wanted to dance with - besides your friends. This was something new, but the way Matt made you feel in the short period of time you’ve gotten to know him was also something new.. and you weren’t gonna let it go to waste.
Matt’s lips curl up into a smile as he nods. “Yeah, c’mon.” He says, though low enough that it’s almost drowned out by the music. You replicate his smile at his acceptance, shooting up from your spot at the bar, downing the last sip of your drink. You take his hand in yours as you weave through the crowd, Matt following behind you closely. Once you find a spot that has enough room between friends and couples, you turn to him as he chuckles.
“I’m not a dancer.” Matt tries to warn you over the booming song. His eyes don’t stray from you once, even with the random, social people that envelop the space around him.
You shake your head in response. “Neither am I.” You reassure with a smile.
As the music progresses and the songs change, your back makes contact with his front as your bodies form a rhythm, moving in sync with each other. You welcome the warmth of his palms on your hips, letting yourself relax into him as your head rests on the back of his shoulder. Your eyes travel over to him as you make contact, his blue irises already trained on you. It was like he was held captive by you, your entire being so addicting. Your hips pushed back into him as Matt licks his lips, greedy eyes taking in every movement of yours.
Despite Matt claiming he couldn’t dance, he fell into your rhythm quickly. He couldn’t get enough of the way your body felt against his. The warmth of you mixing with his growing need for you only driving him further. Your eyes didn’t help either. The way you looked at him, it was as if an angel herself was taking time out of her day to pay attention to him. And who was he to take this for granted?
“You wanna come back to my hotel with me?” Matt whispers in your ear, his hot breath fanning along your ear as goosebumps form on your skin from the feeling. A smirk curls on your lips at his question as you take your bottom lip between your teeth in thought.
Before you could stop yourself, you nod. “Yeah.” You mumble, looking up at him. His eyes alone could’ve convinced you, the enthralling blues putting you in a trance. At your answer, Matt smirks as his hands squeeze your hips.
Without thinking, you both rush out of the bar as you chuckle, darting for his black car that was parked on the side of the road. Your hand was in his as you run for it, stumbling in your heels. You laugh before stopping as you crouch down, tossing them off of your feet before picking them up in your hand.
“Give me ‘em.” Matt says, his free hand reaching out. When you hesitate, he notices the way you didn’t want him to hold them if he didn’t want to. He takes them in his hand, his fingers tightening their grip as he picks up his pace again, not letting you deny his actions.
The scene felt as if it was pulled straight from a romcom, you and this - practically - stranger running down the sidewalk together, Matt holding your heels as you hold hands, you barefoot as you laugh, the cool air brushing along your exposed skin. Everything felt so natural with him, and you’ve barely known him for two hours. It was absurd, the way you were so happy with him; the way you wanted to do anything to impress him. It’s been too long since you’ve felt like this with anyone, it was refreshing.. but also terrifying. But at the moment, it didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared about was you and him as you rushed to his car.
Situating yourself in the passenger seat, you smile as he shuts the door behind you. Rounding his car, Matt sits himself in the drivers seat as he places your heels on the backseat before turning on his car, vibrating slightly as the engine revs. Pulling out of his parking spot, he reaches out to turn the radio on, letting the music radiate through the car. Your window was half open as the cool night breeze sends chills down your body, goosebumps forming on your previously warm skin.
“I need to stop at the ATM.” You turn your head to look at him. You knew that if you were going back to the hotel with him, you were sure to buy something, whether it be food or drinks. Matt glances at you with an unimpressed look, but makes a right turn as he drives near the bank. If you were honest, you knew he wasn’t going to make you pay for anything, but who does it hurt to pretend?
As Matt parks the car, you dash out to the ATM. It doesn’t take long to do your transferring before you rush back to his dark car, sitting back inside on the passenger seat. Buckling your seatbelt, you tuck your small purse beside you. Sending him a smile as you make eye contact with him, you pick up the desire in his eyes. The sight made your thighs subconsciously clench as it results in Matt’s smirk widening.
“Let’s go, pretty girl.” He hums, putting the car in drive again as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the road, making his way towards the hotel him and his brothers were staying at for the week. Silently, you had wondered why they were staying at a hotel since, when you had first started talking at the bar, Matt had revealed that this is where he grew up, in Boston. Traveling to LA was a toll on the boys, but they did it to see their family. The only conclusion you could come up with is that they didn’t want to bother them with staying out so late, only to wake them up when they come back. Either way, it wasn’t necessarily any of your business.. besides, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grateful they were staying at a hotel and not their parents house.
The radio blares music as it takes over your mind, the melody and lyrics luring you in. You hum along quietly before letting out a laugh as Matt begins to speak. Jokes are thrown back and forth as you two get closer and closer to the hotel, chuckles and giggles being heard over the music. Everything felt so carefree, like it was meant to be this way. It was so easy to let go around him. In the back of your mind, you knew how reckless this was; letting this random, handsome stranger intrigue you so much to let him take you back to his hotel, convinced of your own image of your chemistry with him. But you truly couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment, the only thing on your mind being alone with Matt in his hotel room.
Matt’s car stops as he parks, the sign of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel large on the building. You knew this place was expensive, so it shocked you as your eyes traveled the exterior. Matt notices your reaction as he chuckles, unbuckling his seat as he shuts off his car.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” He says, opening his side door before making his way around and helping you out. As you make your way inside, you couldn’t help but gawk at the interior. Matt doesn’t give you enough time to appreciate it as he tugs you to the elevator, wanting to get to his room as soon as possible.
Pushing the button for his floor, your eyes can’t help but linger on his long fingers. They were skinny, but you could tell he knew how to work them. It made you lick your lips as your eyes trail up, looking at his perfectly sculpted side profile before he turns. The second the doors close, Matt has his hands on your waist as he smashes his lips against yours. The sudden force makes you groan into the kiss, your back hitting the wall of the elevator, your hands moving up to his neck. Your tongues prod at each other, tangling as the kiss grows messy.
Matt’s hand glides down your hips, cold fingertips grazing your bare thigh, eliciting goosebumps to form. You could feel the way he smirks into the kiss from your bodies reaction. His head turns more, giving him better access to taste you against him. You still had the remaining flavor of alcohol etched on to your tongue as Matt groans at the taste of it. Thankfully, he hadn’t drank before you left, driving sober the entire time.
Before his hand could travel further, the ding of the elevator breaks you both out of your daze. Inhaling sharply as Matt pulls away, your eyes notice the way his pink lips are now swollen, turning into a darker red shade. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply as he takes your hand again, muttering another, “c’mon.”
Darting down the hallway, he finds his room number before sliding the keycard into the slot before it pings and a green light is shown. Twisting the handle, Matt lets you walk in before shutting the door behind him.
“This is beau—” You start before Matt’s lips cut you off again, greedily wanting your taste again. His hands grasp your hips, pulling you close to him as your bodies press together, your hands moving to his hair as you kiss back with the same fervor. It was clear your desperation for each other, it was obviously reciprocated. The way his fingers clutch at your skin through the material of your dress, pleading to feel more.
“Shh, baby. Let me take care’a you.” Matt whispers, his breath hot against your lips as his hand moves up to cup your cheek. You make eye contact with him as you nod, your chest heaving from your lack of air. “Good girl.” He coos before backing you up against the bed and lays you down, hovering above you.
His lips immediately attach to your neck, wet, sloppy kisses pressing to the skin. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them trailing up to the back of his head as your fingers sift through his hair. Your lips part as you breathe, occasional nips and sucks being forced onto your skin, eliciting a shaky exhale from you. His lips turn up in response, his kisses traveling down as seconds go by.
Kissing down your neckline, Matt’s soft lips soothe you as he gets lower and lower. His large palms move up your thighs, teasingly grazing his fingertips over the edge of your dress. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He asks softly, slightly muffled by the way his lips don’t leave your warm skin. Every part of you craved him, mind and soul. Your body heated up at his close proximity, not being able to control the way he effects you in every way.
You nod quickly, the pillow rustling beneath your head. You needed it off, you needed him to touch you. Matt smiles at your response, not wasting any time as his hands slowly bring it down, revealing your bare chest and panties left on your exposed body. Your nipples immediately harden from the temperature in the room, not ready to be shown to two prying eyes.
Matt hums, gently leaving the fabric at the end of the bed. He kicks his shoes and socks off as he settles back on top of you, licking his swollen lips as his blue irises take in your pretty form. Hair splayed across the pillow, body impatiently waiting for him as you try to stay as still as possible, wanting his next movement to be soon.. now.
He smirks at your eagerness, but also realizes that he couldn’t tease you for it.. he was just as eager, if not more. His hands slide up your bare thighs, an inhale eliciting from you. “So responsive.” Matt mumbles, more so to himself, but his low tone makes heat travel down your body. “‘M’gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” He promises, leaning down as he takes your nipple in his mouth, lathering the sensitive area in his saliva, his warm tongue darting out to wet it. The contact makes you let out a breathy moan, your hand going to the back of his head again. Your fingers subconsciously clutch his hair as Matt moans against your nipple in response. The vibration made you gasp, paired with the way Matt’s other hand moves up to squeeze your other boob, your back arching slightly off of the bed and close to his chest.
Once Matt pulls away from your chest, you’re left with several marks on your skin, surrounding, on and near your breasts. He slowly makes his way down, kissing down your stomach as he teasingly nips at the skin just above your waistband on your panties. His teeth clamp on the thin fabric, looking up at you as your breath hitches. He leans down, taking your underwear with him as his lips curl up, noticing his effect on you. As he gets halfway, he leans back and pulls them off, tossing them as he presses kisses to your knees, all the way back up to your inner thighs.
Your thighs tense at the feeling, wanting to just suffocate his pretty face between them. A low chuckle reaches your ears as Matt notices your every move, loving the way you react to him. His hands move under your thighs, placing them atop his shoulders as his fingers dig into the soft skin. His pink lips tease over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted - needed him.
“You want this, sweet girl?” Matt asks lowly, blue eyes meeting your from between your legs. He asks that as if he can hear your thoughts, your chest rising and falling faster and faster as you get more impatient.
You nod immediately. “Yes! Need it, Matt.” You whine, eyes picking up the way he smiles. Instantly, Matt dives in, licking a long stripe up your center, picking up your wetness. He was selfish as he tasted you, needing more and more as his tongue greedily lapped at you, taking your scent and flavor for himself.
“Mm.. taste so fuckin’ good.” Matt grunts before quickly dipping back in, his lips wrapping around your clit. Your hand reaches down and brush into his hair, the sensation of his skillful tongue against you bringing you closer to the edge pathetically fast.
“Fuck, Matt!” You moan, your thighs tensing as Matt’s needy mouth pleasures you in a way no one has before. You could feel the way he smiles against you, his lips moving down to prod his tongue at your entrance. You gasp sharply as it pushes inside you, your fingers tangling in his soft hair and tugging in response. Matt moans against you, the vibration only sending you further.
The warm muscle worked itself against you, showing you what real pleasure was like. Matt’s mouth didn’t stop once as he devours you, wanting to taste you for the rest of his life. At his position, his pretty nose rubs against your clit as it makes your thighs tremble slightly, your back arching off of the bed.
“You gettin’ close? Hm?” Matt mutters, pulling away to speak for just a second before immediately diving back in, not wanting to waste any time at all away from your addicting taste. You nod against the pillow, swallowing dryly. He hums against you, inaudibly giving you permission to do so. The last vibration was all it took for the knot inside your lower stomach to break as you cry out his name, your eyes squeezing painfully tight as your thighs shake and cage his head in. Matt quickly laps at your release, taking it all for himself. He helps you ride out your high as he pressed sloppy kisses to your clit.
Panting, your chest heaves as the euphoria begins to subside. You whine quietly as you grow sensitive, Matt’s mouth never stopping their movements. “Too much, Matt. ‘M’sensitive.” You whimper, your words slurring together slightly, still coming down from your high.
Matt chuckles lowly against your most sensitive parts at your words. “Just a little more, baby.” He hums. His tongue darts out again, licking along your center as he continues to flow along your arousal, lathering your clit. Your thighs couldn’t help but tremble at the overstimulation, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt.
Enveloping your clit in his warm mouth again, he tugs gently, eliciting a wrecked cry from you. Matt smiles before he pulls away, mumbling, “shh, baby, it’s okay.” He lets your legs fall from shoulders as he moves above you again, hovering over you. “Such a pretty girl.. y’look so fuckin’ good when you come f’me.” He says against your lips before connecting them with yours. His tongue welcomes itself in your mouth as you’re forced to taste yourself. Your hands reach down and tug at his belt, signaling your need for it to be off. He immediately picks up on it, reaching a hand down to undo it as he doesn’t even think about parting his lips from yours.
“So impatient.” Matt clicks his tongue teasingly. You huff at his words, making him chuckle. Leaning back, he undoes the belt buckle before reaching his hands back to swiftly take off his shirt. Tossing it, his pants and boxers join soon after as he’s only left in his horse necklace as his hat had previously fell off when you had entered the room together.
Your eyes trail down, widening slightly at his size. Pre-cum slid down his aching red tip, begging for some sort of contact with something. Noticing your hesitance, Matt leans back down and hovers over you. “You can take it, baby. I’ll make it fit.” He says lowly, the words making your thighs clench as you swallow dryly. He sure was a smooth talker..
A hiss leaves clenched teeth as Matt teases his tip along your slit. The feeling made you gasp as you look at him before glancing down at what he was doing. Your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to you. “So fucking wet.. all f’me.” He groans, positioning his head at your entrance before slowly pushing in. “Fuuuck.”
The stretch made you wince, your lips parting. Your hands clawed at his bare back, eliciting another hiss from Matt‘s lips. “Takin’ me so good. Such a good girl.” He mutters breathlessly, trying to keep his composure as he breathes deeply through his nose. He looks down at you, eyes wandering your expression. As he sinks fully inside, he lets you adjust until you give him the green light, a nod catching his eye.
Moving back, he almost completely leaves you before thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out again. The feeling made you let out a choked moan, the wind knocked out of you. Matt groans at the feeling, his hips slowly gathering a rhythm as he fucks deep into you. Your legs tense around his waist as the pleasure takes over, sounds leaving your lips as your body jolts with every thrust. One of Matt’s hands moves up to grasp your breast as they move with your body, a moan leaving you in response.
His lips crash on to yours as his thrusts don’t falter, his tongue instantly clashing with yours. The sound of skin slapping fills the entire room, telling anyone that might walk by what was going on inside. The creaking of the bed as the headboard hit against the pale, white walls behind it exposed you both, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was him and the way he was making you feel. And he was making you feel fucking good.
“Shit, Y/N.” Matt grunts breathlessly, his lips agape as he watches you, only adding to his pleasure. “You feel so good around me.. squeezin’ me so damn tight.” He groans, his hips moving slightly faster as he only gets more worked up. He knew he was close, that inevitable feeling in his stomach surfacing, but he wanted you to break first.
The hand that was previously on your breast moves down as it grazes your still sensitive clit, rubbing fast circles on it as he tries to bring you closer to the edge. The sensation makes you gasp as your nails only dig harsher into his pale skin, marking him. You moan out, your back arching for the millionth time that night. “Matt! I.. ‘m’gonna come!” You whine, panting as your thighs clench, your release coming up quick upon you.
Matt welcomes it as his finger only moves quicker against you. “Come f’me, sweetheart. Want you to make a mess on my dick.” He says, his breathing labored as he tries his best to hold off his peak of euphoria, wanting to see you let go first. At his words and actions, the band inside you breaks again, a cry of his name leaving your lips as your nails dig down his back, eliciting a hiss and shiver from the man on top of you.
At that, Matt lets out a guttural groan as pulls out, spilling his release on your lower stomach. His head collapsed on your shoulder as he rode out his high, the pinnacle of euphoria taking over his body as it exhausts him. You both pant as your orgasms slowly begin to fade, tiredness quickly taking over.
“Get you cleaned up.” Matt whispers, slowly - reluctantly - getting up from his spot and walking into the small bathroom and grabbing a washcloth to wet and wash the cum off of you. You nod, inhaling sharply as the soft fabric makes contact with your sensitive pussy. “Shh, it’s okay.” He coos before tossing the towel once he’s finished.
As he settles back in bed, you reach to grab your phone, just to see what time it is. As you turn it on, you read the time before scrolling through the notifications. Your eyes widen at the dozens of messages and calls from your friends, totally forgetting where you were in the first place and why you went.
“You get a bunch of texts from the people you came with, too?” Matt asks, phone in hand as he snaps you out of your daze. You chuckle and nod.
“Yeah.. told them what they tell me: live now, think later.”
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pascals-doll · 3 months ago
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B.A.S
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⋆ ˚ . * ·analysis— In which you were bound to a man you don’t desire or love by your parents. An entire relationship built on resentment and treaty-like. Abby Anderson, you’re neighbor whom lived happily with her girlfriend next door. Unruly cravings and wreckful thoughts take over between the both of you, assuring a succulent dalliance. Guess you Both Aint Shit.
abby anderson x reader
₊˚ପ MEGANS NEW ALBUM GOT ME ON MY TOESS 💋
˚ପ i cant believe ive had this lil plot thought out written somewhat since march and i never had time to finish it and im happy i finally did!
₊˚ପ description: MODERN AU! READER IS FEMININE PRESENTING (only desc of reader), MUTUAL CHEATING!, reader is kinda in the closet because of prejudice parents, mentions of heavy religious parents, reader is in arranged marriage with a man!, mutal jealousy, homewrecking, SMUT NAAASTYSMUT, dom!abby, sub!reader, oral sex (r receiving), reader is unexpirenced!, brief size kink, praise kink, heavy making out, fingering (r receiving), lots of pussyeating, no use of y/n,( ___) is blank for partners names, use of pet names (doll, beautiful, baby)
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A lavish life was the experience of finding love on your own, letting it grow on you, and completing whelm your entire being. It was the process of getting to know each other to first kiss, to the ask out, to the relationship, and if your lucky; you build life together.
The stage of growth and love; where you plan as you’re just overfilled with emotion. That trigger to jump with joy at the fact that you’re building a whole life path with your special someone.
Years spent learning about each other, sharing parts of yourselves, and taking that time to progress hand in hand; harmoniously. Something, everyone should have the unlawful pleasure of doing.
It something you’ve always dreamed off, feeling it so close as you watch through your curtains. A secret craven in peeking into the silhouettes of the house next door.
You had seen them together for the past year since they moved in. Their happiness almost tangible as they enjoyed each other's company in the pool or on the patio, sipping cocktails and laughing.
You were hardly ever envious in the years you’ve been on earth—but it’s almost taunting like, the way they have so much to give. Truly in paradise with their passion for each other. Although, something didn’t always seem quite right.
Your life never stopped being stifling. You were bound to a man you could never love. An unfair business arrangement orchestrated by your parents alongside constant trips-pointless trips; taken by your close to nonexistent husband.
Abby's girlfriend was also often away on business, and you suspected that she was lonely. Going throughout your day and then coming home to see her in all alone, all day, in that big house.
The entire marriage was a sham, a rule-set of convenience. You couldn’t help yourself any longer once Abby moved in.
Often finding your eyes drifting to her, imagining what it would be like to kiss her peached lips, engulfed within those muscular arms. Such thoughts made you blush, and ignite a feeling in your stomach.
You couldn’t do anything except push your own crawling agenda away, only to have them return with greater intensity.
Abby Anderson was a phenomenal women. She was lead cordinator at a business with the pleasure to provide and work from home. She deserves someone who can take care of all that hard work.
Her girlfriend clearly couldn’t.
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‘If you live a life you don’t love, make best of what you want.’
You had never been with a women before. Only close you’ve ever gotten to exploring was dabbling in lesbian porn when your husband wasn’t around. It didn’t take long to dawn on you—that you had never orgasmed, especially not in the way these women in adult videos do and definitely not with your husband.
It was pitiful, really. The fact you couldn’t enjoy such a liberty. Your own sexuality.
A faraway dream of self-discovery and not the norms fed to you by religious beliefs that you couldn’t claim as yours. Dragged on by your parents whom taught you, it was ‘all in good faith’ and ‘Lord knows whats best’.
The only explaination for your abomination of life. Merely neglectful to your candied desires. Wrong, yet right in every way. You were loosing sleep as nights pass, tossing, and turning restless.
Rolling out of your silk sheets groggily. You stepped into your house slippers before walking down your stairs to your living room where your pack of cigarettes are. You grabbed the pack of your dining table, heading out to your front porch.
It was midnight, blurred gray clouds into the black-violet sky as you lit your cigarette and dazing away. You could feel the stagnant air surround your exposed skin, your lacy satin nightgown—a slip of fabric only covering you.
Unbothered and insomatic, taking drags from your malboro as you sat next to your ashtray that displayed on your side table. If you were to turn your head; facing towards and into all your temptations.
From just the corner of your eye, you could see the lights were still on at such an hour. Impulsively giving into your curiosity, turning your chair; peering into her window across the street.
Puffing till your ash thins into the orange-tip. Your attention drowned out until you heard rustling coming from the bushes at the corner of the street and your home. You whip your head around, blunting your cigarette out onto your ashtray and walking towards the barricade of your porch.
Abby was taking out the trash. She dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. She looked relaxed, her long golden hair falling casually around her face. Eventually catching you, offering a friendly wave and came closer to the fence of your porch.
"Hey there!" Abby greets, cool-toned and intrigued. "Can't sleep either, huh?"
Your heart hammered in your chest. "Sure is, just came out for a smoke…uh-hm! How have you been?" You stammered your question, unsure of what to say.
Abby couldn’t help her gaze drop to your nightgown, her eyes glinting under the streetlights. "Just been cooped up alone, taking care of Bear and ____ is away on another business trip.” She exudes, smiling at the mention of her precious furry friend.
You listened intently, a small smile tugged on your lips “____ been gone since the week before. Preoccupying myself by enjoying my magazines alongside my tea,” You let out a small giggle which was returned.
Abby’s presence tensed you, goosebumping your skin as if you were cold all of a sudden.
A small moment of silence was a momentum of chance.
“Would you like to come in for a glass of wine or water? I’d be a horrible neighbor if i left you hangin’” You offer, stepping aside with a soft smile.
She took you in once more, head to toe and an adrenaline pumped throughout her body before spreaking, “It’d be my pleasure”.
4 words 1 sentence. A saying so simple is all it took, to have you clawing at your sanity.
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Two cups of Wine turned into more and lighthearted conversations transformed sentimentally with each cup.
You bonded over the fact your partners often left for work, leaving you both lonely in such a big house. Eventually divulging your marital fraud, your desolation worn on your sleeve like an accessory.
“That’s truly not necessary—” you were cut off.
“Accept nothing but the truth, he doesn’t recognize how lucky he’s got it.” You picked up on how her voice turned stern, straightening up as she reassured you. You just stood there frozen.
You gulped, wrapping your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt exposed. You scrambled to think of something to say, your delusions wanting to take this in every way it wasn’t.
Abby suddenly closes the gap between the both of you, leaning onto your counter and into you. You could smell her perfume, the scent of fresh orcid and essential oils tickling your nostrils.
Maybe It was.
“Do you love him?” A very solidifying question.
“I dont know what love is and I definitely don’t love him, more like my parents did.” You grimaced, sarcastic and plainly disinterested in such a discussion. You truly have nothing to compare your marriage too.
“I hate fucking him too. Don’t feel a thing.”
Abby’s eyes widened, her hand reaching over to grasp yours. “Have you—do you like women?” She quirked, a soft giggle falling from her lips.
“Again. Wouldn’t know, sweetheart.” The nickname seemed so naturally. Like, you had been calling her that forever. Your eyes met with Abby’s; face to face with only so much space.
Then suddenly, she settles her strong hands upon both of your arms “And If i showed you?” She was so gentle with your demeanor, treading lightly.
She wanted it just as bad, just like you.
Her breath fanning your lips causing you to hitch. A trembling hand reached out, your hand brushing Abby's cheek, her hands pulling you from your waist. A passionate kiss spun.
It was electric, your lips molding together, tongues dancing in a frantic exploration. Abby moaned into your mouth, your hands roaming loosely down to grip your neighbor's slender hips. You responded by pressing yourself against Abby, feeling the firmness of her breasts through both your clothes.
Kissing desperately, hungrily, as if starved for each other's touch. Breaking the kiss, Abby nibbled on your ear, a weak whisper falls from your lips, “I need you….” Muttering in between kisses.
“Bedroom’s upstairs.” You finish. Abby taps on the cheek of your ass, signaling you to jump into her embrace.
Stumbles and giggles to make your way upstairs and down the hall to your master bedroom. Abby pulled away from you, looking around the room, seeing the mixture of objects from your husband and your own.
In some way, the infidelity. It made it rapturous.
"Lie down," she ordered you, her voice suddenly husky and full of authority.
you obliged to her command happily, body thrumming with excitement. You watch her climb onto the bed, hovering above you and eyes pouring into your own; a mixture of lust and tenderness.
"You're so beautiful," Abby’s voice was low as her eyes ran up and down, running her hands down your body. Each streak feathered on from her fingers tickled your skin, squirming as you legs lock together.
You felt a fluttering in you stomach at the compliment. "So are you," You meeked shyly, a pink hue on your flustered in face. You were breathless as Abby began to kiss at your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin.
Abby continued her slow exploration, trailing kisses down your body, pausing to nuzzle your breasts through your top. "I want to see all of you," she whispered, her hot breath fanning over your tempered skin.
Heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded. The feeling of her gentle but eager hands as she threw off your clothes, baring you inch by delicious inch.
She paused to appreciate each reveal. The swell of your perked breasts, the curves that dipped your body, and to the drag of your soaked panty down your legs.
Completely naked and to her taking, Abby took a moment to admire you. Her eyes ran down over every inch of your exposed-self, salivating at your glistening arousal. "Better than my dreams," she murmured, voice full of wonder.
Insatiably on the same side of a coin. You reached for Abby's top, eager to return the favor. You peeled the fabric away, revealing her lush breasts, nipples eager with the cool breeze with excitement. She metled into your touch as she kicked off her shorts.
It was your turn to admire everything you’ve awaited. Her body glistened under the dim lighting of your room. The way eyes smoldered with desire tranced you as she positioned herself between your thighs. Your needy slick center coarsed Abby’s head; hovering above and planting pecks on your thighs.
Abby leaned into you. The feeling of her mouth searing kisses on your delicate pussy and her thumb teasing the taut peak of your tits. Your back arched arched into her touch, moaning softly as you reveled in the sensation of finally being touched by another woman. By her.
You notice the way she took her time with you. She was observant with each twig and jolt that came from your body, savoring you. She sweetly elicited a series of delighted gasps and whimpers from you as she continued her descent, twirling her tongue around your clit and teasing you down to your folds.
You choked out a cry of shock, “Fuck-ah!" you seethed, your hands gripping your bed sheets. You could feel Abby chuckle softly as she relishing sucked on your puffy clit. You felt like you were on a cloud, feeling completely elevated.
“Gaah! Ab—Abby!” Your thighs tremble in her grasp, feet kicking into her back slightly at the new found pleasure. The jolt that coursed through you felt ferious with the feeling of her moist tongue. She made her way inside your folds, teasing your whet entrance.
Suddenly, you feel the tip of her tongue plunge inside you, “Abby! fuckk Abby!” You let out a throat-curling shriek. Each lick inside you was a push of boundaries.
Legs trembling, mouth fully-agape, back arched, tits begging to be touched, nails clawing into your sheets, and grinding into her face completely high off ecstasy. Everything was new to you. The sex, passion, and connection. A seventh heaven.
Just as quick as the erotic came; it left. She pulled away from your eager pussy and anticipated body causing your back to drop and pant breathlessly.
"Patience," she murmured, her breath tickling your sensitive folds.
She continued her slow exploration, indulging her tongue as her fingers dance along the skin of your blimped thighs. Your breath hitched as you were dying of anticipation for her touch, her tongue.
Finally, fucking two fingers into you as she paid attention to your clit. Your deplore was sensuous, another train of cries and whines falling from your drooled lips.
Everything Abby did made you feel absolutely desired. Another thing, your husband could never do.
"You're so wet," Abby praises through her slurps and swallows of your leaking lithe. Abby’s fingers thrust forward, pushing in every inch of herself.
Her eyes darken as they watch themselves get squeezed in by your soppy fuzzed beneath. "So beautiful," she marvels, not getting enough of you.
"Don’t stop! please!”
Her thick fingers curl upward, she stroked your walls with her tips. She enjoys every moment of your writhing. Abby could live in this moment forever.
She smiled as your hips bucked up, chasing after every sensation. "So responsive," she purred, before adding a third thick finger inside you. she stretched you out completely, feeling every bit as your hands tugged onto her blonde hair.
She pulled her fingers out alight from so deep, dragging her tongue down once more your slick folds and lapping up your essence.
"Oh god!" Your moan gutteral and body thrashing against her and your bed. The tip of her fingers swirled inside softly, pressing onto your soft sex-gush.
An electrifying chilled jostled down to cramped hips as your stomach twisted blissfully. "Cum for me," she praises, working through your overwhelming orgasm.
Lewd spewls and ravenous chill flowed out and through you. Completely mind-fucked as you cream all over the tip of her fingers and tongue. Your body tightened like a coil, coating her with your sticky release with a final cry, "Oh, Abby!" As she cupped your leaking cum around her three fingers.
She brought them up to her lips, sucking them clean, releasing with a pop, and groan in delight. “You’re so fucking heavenly, taste it too.” She coos, crawling her way to meet your glowed and fucked out-self.
“Don’t tap out now, doll, I’m only getting started.”
Both of your integrity’s thrown out the door.
“This isn’t….” A pointless mumble left your lips, somewhat dawning the fact; You just cheated on your husband.
“They aren’t even here, right baby?”
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a/n: ugh my slut ass probably gonna make another part 🤞🏼🐇
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infoblogifyzen · 1 year ago
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Versatile Event Cocktail Tables for Dynamic Gatherings
When it comes to hosting dynamic gatherings, the choice of furniture plays a pivotal role in creating an inviting and functional atmosphere. Among the key elements, event cocktail tables stand out as versatile pieces that not only serve a practical purpose but also add a touch of elegance to any occasion. In this article, we will explore the significance of event cocktail tables and how they can be transformed into focal points of gatherings, with a special focus on the exquisite offerings from Lenox Hill Florists.
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For hosts looking to create a cohesive and immersive event experience, Lenox Hill Florists' event cocktail tables can be integrated seamlessly into various themes. Whether it's a garden-inspired wedding or a sophisticated corporate gala, their tables provide a canvas for creativity, allowing hosts to bring their vision to life with flair and finesse.
Event cocktail tables are more than just pieces of furniture; they are essential components that contribute to the overall success and ambiance of a gathering. Lenox Hill Florists, with their exceptional range of event cocktail tables and their expertise in floral design, elevates these pieces to new heights of elegance and functionality. By choosing Lenox Hill Florists, hosts can be confident that their event cocktail tables will not only meet but exceed their expectations, leaving a lasting impression on attendees and creating cherished memories for years to come.
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zweetpea · 3 months ago
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so please imagine if you will…
CW: Babies
Imagine You and Gojo as teens. Him being a total player and you being his “innocent” chaotic junior by a year.
Imagine you’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on. Him with all his... stuff... and you with... let's say with a Nullifying cursed Technique.
Imagine you guys grew up together. You always had an edge on him in a fight up until he unlocked his reversed curse technique during his second year at Jujustu Tech.
Imagine that somewhere in your studies you and Gojo had a heart to heart about your futures. It's late... maybe you guys are pulling an all-nighter. He reveals in a moment of what he perceived as weakness his insecurities being the next head of the Gojo clan brought him. How he didn't feel like he'd ever fall in love. How he knew felt like the higher ups would push an arranged marriage onto him. How he was scared that he wouldn't be a good husband or father. And his biggest fear that any child he did bring into this world would have to face the same hardships he did only without the six eyes to back it up. How he felt guilty for taking that opportunity away from them.
Imagine shifting his head onto your lap in that moment and proposing a deal to him. If you both were single by the time you hit 25 you'd marry each other. That way he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd be a good partner. Or how strong his kids could be. Or what kind of woman the higher ups would try to force him to be with.
Imagine after that day he never went on another date for a decade. waiting for the day you'd get married and he could finally have babies with you to keep the Gojo legacy alive.
Imagine him sabotaging any dates you get over the next decade. Being jealous and possessive of you in front of any guys who might find you attractive. (In his mind it's all of them)
Imagine him never telling you any of this You probably already know
Imagine after a while you move away to pursue a career somewhere else because of how clingy and obsessive Gojo has gotten. Completely forgetting about the promise you made and coincidentally not being able to pursue a real relationship because of being a sorcerer.
Imagine on your 25th birthday you get a text from a random number asking you a bunch of strange questions. "Red velvet's still your favorite cake flavor right?" "Is royal blue and rose gold tacky?" "Is rose gold still your favorite color?" "Out of these options which dress is your favorite?" They're all very short cocktail wedding dressed.
Imagine obviously ignoring this stalker. Going about your day. Maybe getting a few drinks with some friends after their work days were over. And when you uber home a bit tipsy you find someone waiting for you in your living room.
"Sweetheart! You're home! And you're wasted!" Gojo held you and kissed your temple. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and get you to bed."
"Gojo? I'm not drunk I'm just a bit buzzed. How and why are you here?"
"Come on, babe. Call me Satoru! I'm here to celebrate your birthday and our engagement!"
"Huh?"
Imagine how sweet he could be as he picks you up in a princess carry and takes you to the bathroom. Carefully getting you cleaned up and reminding you about your deal, and of course asking if you got his texts. You merely laugh and kiss his cheek.
Imagine how the next morning you wake up and roll over in bed only to come face to chest with him.
"How'd you get in my bed?" You'd smile at him.
"I carried my lovely wife here last night, after she got drunk off her ass."
"I thought I told you to sleep on the couch."
"I was lonely." He'd whine and press his cheek against the top of your head.
Imagine how he'd take care of most of the wedding preparations. (except the dress cause ain't no way you bout to look like some hooker barbie on your big day) And him giving you his mother's wedding ring. Just the two of you and a few close friends having a small, intimate ceremony.
Imagine "Forgetting" to tell the higher ups about the union so they call him in to have a meeting with him telling him that they've selected a woman to be his wife. He laughs in their faces as he pulls out his phone and pulls up a photo of you pregnant with his baby.
Imagine his smirk when they all start to freak out and protest. And oh boy...
Imagine how that smirk falls when one of them suggests that the baby isn't his...
Imagine him coming home all bloody. His smile as wide as ever as he informs you that "It's not mine" or his rather. And how you just hand him some new clothes and push him towards the shower.
Imagine how thrilled he is when he finally gets to hold his baby in his arms. The silent vindication he feels seeing as the baby looks exactly like him.
"I spend 12 hours squeezing you out of my body and you have the audacity to look like your father. You really are a Gojo."
Just please Imagine it all for me if you will
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