Your Tequila Lips Is My Idea Of Luxury

your tequila lips is my idea of luxury

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 

warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter

in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage

If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.

But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 

If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.

And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.

“I did fucking what now?”

“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”

Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.

“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 

Well, you didn’t either.

“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 

Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”

To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 

And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 

Fucking hell.

You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 

And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 

You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.

You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.

And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 

The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.

But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 

Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.

And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.

Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 

And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.

Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.

“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.

Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 

“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.

“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.

Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”

What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”

“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.

“What do I get in return?”

“Lunch? My treat.” 

Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.

“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”

In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.

Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.

In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.

The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.

His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.

You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.

“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”

And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.

Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.

In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 

At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.

Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 

It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.

Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 

Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.

Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.

Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.

Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 

Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 

Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.

[Today, 8:32 AM]

Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.

From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.

Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.

y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]

Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.

Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.

y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]

Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.

Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.

The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 

No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.

As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Hi.” 

Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 

“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.

Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.

He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.

“I don’t remember owing you anything.”

“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”

“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”

Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.

This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”

Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 

And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.

May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.

You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”

It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.

“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 

His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.

Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.

Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.

If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.

The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 

Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.

Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.

When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.

The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.

Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.

“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.

“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.

“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 

Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”

You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.

Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”

“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.

“Why don’t you order for us then?”

With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”

“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”

You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.

Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.

Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.

Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”

“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”

“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”

Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.

“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.

Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”

“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.

“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.

“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”

Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”

“My drunk self sure did.”

“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”

Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.

“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 

You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 

Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 

Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“I gave them my card before you arrived.”

What the fuck. “But the favor…”

Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”

“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.

“Thank you, but absolutely no.”

“Why not?” 

Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”

“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”

“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.

Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”

“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.

“Next time, I’m paying.” 

“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”

Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.

“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.

Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”

“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.

“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”

As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”

With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.

Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.

And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 

note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).

You write L so wonderfully and so in character. I had a request if they’re still open: Could I request Reader (any gender) giving L his first kiss, teaching him how to kiss in the process, and L discovering that he really enjoys the sensation of kissing? I headcanon L as so mentally devoted to his work that his physical form has kind of taken a backseat, and so something like a kiss or touch from the right person can ignite in him a new understanding of himself. Thanks for reading! 💖

So, I was gonna answer this later because I have a truly astounding amount of homework to get done, but how could I keep you waiting? Anyways, I tried my best to adhere to your request, and I'm so sorry if it's disappointing, I've never really done this before. Please let me know if you want anything else written or rewritten, or literally anything. Your wish is my command. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! I am trying to write him as realistically as possible because I saw too much ooc L, and so I'm doing my best.

“Cake?” You asked, setting it down in front of him gently so as to not disturb his setup. 

“Thank you.” He responded. His eyes never left the screen as he picked up the fork and began to eat. 

He had arrived at your apartment last night and in typical L fashion, had given you little notice before knocking on your door with a briefcase of files and papers. He had turned your living room into a crime scene, and as far as you knew, hadn’t slept a wink since he had gotten here. 

You didn’t want to ask him any questions or bother him, despite how incredibly curious you were, but you did want to be sure he wasn’t wasting away under your watch. If that meant feeding him desserts every hour to ensure that something was being consumed, then so be it.

“Cake for dinner,” You said softly to the air, shaking your head as you served yourself a slice. “I’m living my childhood dreams.”

Taking a seat next to L, you very carefully pulled a blanket up to your lap. You watched him cautiously, worried that your movements might distract him.

“You are not bothering me.” He said abruptly. 

You froze “Are you sure? I can just go to my room if - “

“No, I quite enjoy your presence.” He turned to you. “And if anything, I should be the one worried about bothering you. I have completely taken over your living room with my research.”

In furious denial, you responded, “No not at all! I love having papers about - “ You pick up a paper and skim the first sentence. “ - mass murders…on my couch…”

L let out a soft chuckle, to which you gave him a smile in return. “I should be thankful that you have not yet tired of my existence.”

“How could I ever? You’re my best customer.” You gestured to the state of your messy kitchen - a result of all the baking and cooking you had done for him since he had arrived. 

He responded with a little laugh, and turned back to his screen. You admired how much he devoted himself to his work, however it worried you nonstop to see how it ate away at him, both mentally and physically. 

You didn’t pretend to understand what he did. As far as you could tell, he was a spy or detective of sorts. He never confirmed or denied your guesses, but there were certain aspects of his routine that allowed you to infer what you could.

What you were sure of, however, was that the only time he was ever able to properly relax was when he was around you. Which only made it that much more saddening that he was so immersed in his research at this moment in time.

But you said nothing. It was never your place to interfere or say anything. That was how the two of you worked.

You picked up your book from the table in front of you and began to read. It was nice, being near him and the two of you being allowed to do your respective things. In fact, the book you were reading was one he had suggested for you after you told him it had been a while since you found a good book.

So far, you were quite happy with the recommendation.

After a couple of hours of just being next to each other and occasionally exchanging words, you began to doze off. The book slipped out of your hands and your head dropped onto L’s shoulder.

For the first time in hours, he was completely taken out of his work mindset. The weight of your body slumped against his was so warm. He knew it probably would be best to let you sleep, but how was he meant to get any work done if you were right against him?

Lucky for him, you started to stir, yawning as you awoke from your brief nap. “You’re here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday.” He replied quietly.

You quickly noticed how much of his personal space you had accidentally invaded and shot straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to - “

L reached over and took your hand. It was a bit of an awkward grab, but you understood he meant it to be comforting. “You do not bother me.” His words were firm. 

“Right,” You breathed out, unknowingly lacing your fingers with his. “I forgot.”

“You also seemed to forget that I was here,” He noted. “You were surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation. “I think…I’m not used to you being so present next to me. It was a bit shocking to wake up practically sleeping on you.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “Elaborate. On the part about me being present.”

“It’s not a matter of you being physically absent, but I mean you’re always so absorbed in your work that it’s like you forget I’m here or even where and who you are. Mentally, you are on another planet almost ninety percent of the time.” You explain, embarrassed. 

This seemed to bother him. You noticed the way his grip on your hand loosened and his shoulders deflated even more. 

“I never meant to make you feel that way.”

Your heart broke at how defeated he sounded. “Not at all! I just want you to be aware that you’re allowed to relax around me. You’re under no obligations here.”

He nodded. “Then you should also know that I don’t mind you being close to me.” He looked down at where your hands were still intertwined. “I’ve come to enjoy being in contact with you.”

You laughed lightly, relieved. “Thank goodness. I could kiss you right now, you know?”

“You could.” He confirmed quickly. “It would certainly be an experience I’ve never had before.”

To that, your laughter stops. “Never? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I had been.” He said dryly. 

“Would you want me to kiss you?” You asked him, your words hushed and curious. 

He pondered it for a moment. “I would want you to, of course. I have no expectations on whether or not I will enjoy it, as I have no previous experience to form them from. However, based off of what the vast majority of the population would - “

You decided you had enough of his talking and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and using your free hand to hold his face gently as you did. 

By kissing standards, it was not perfect. It was soft and awkward, but to you it was pure bliss. And as you pulled away and saw the gratified look in his eyes, it was fairly evident he felt similarly.

“How was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I’m not sure,” He replied. “I think you should do it again, for me to provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

You let out a laugh and leaned against him. “To be entirely honest with you, I haven’t kissed many people before.”

“In comparison to them, how did I do?” 

“Well, that was just a basic kiss.” You explained. “If you really want to be memorable, you should try a little harder.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And how should I do that?”

You gave him a sly smile and moved until his back was pressed against the couch cushions and you were positioned slightly above him, your legs on either side of his lap. 

“Just open your mouth…” And like the obedient boyfriend he was, he did. “...lean forward…” Your lips met his again and you pulled him in closer; so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, and for someone who claimed to have never been kissed before, he was oddly passionate.

Breathless, you pulled away and beamed at him. “I would say that was pretty good. You?”

“If I wished to rank it, I would have to kiss other people to properly make a comparison.” You met his eyes, a teasing spark illuminated within them.

You scrunched up your nose. “Don’t joke. You are horribly unfunny.”

“Your lies do not concern me.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise. 

“It appears you like being kissed then?” 

“If it’s by you, then yes.” He sighed, a mixture of content and sadness. “I apologize for making you feel so unwanted around me while I work. I truly appreciate your presence and your efforts to distract me.”

You nodded acceptingly. “Well, do they at least work?”

L smiled. “They do.”

With a little exhale of relief, you rested your body against his and closed your eyes. “Anyways, you’re pretty good at that whole kissing thing. Maybe we can make it a habit.”

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I would like that.”

Because there was something so satisfying about kissing you, or even touching you, that made him only crave it more. L, whose mind was forever restless, had come to a complete halt the moment your lips had touched his. 

It appeared that the only tried and true thing that could ever relax him and bring him out of an overworked state of mind, was being with you. 

It was selfish. So incredibly selfish of him. To be with you, knowing the dangers, knowing the consequences, all because it made him feel good.

But he couldn’t help it. Not if it meant the possibility of kissing you again. And so he solidified this resolve in his mind that he wanted you, and only ever you. He knew there could be nothing good to come of this in the long run, but for now, you were both content in each other’s company.

L never stopped thinking about this moment. It might have been one of the only ones where he could truly say he was happy. 

First of all, i LOVE your Karasu au and your writing in general 😍😍

I don't know if you're taking requests, so feel free to ignore this if you aren't. That being said... How it would be the first time between MC and Karasu?? 👀👀

a/n: I don't want to spoil part five his story, but I'm happy to provide some general details about possible things to expect! his character page also has some nsfw info/drabbles to keep the thirst at bay.

➤ first time headcanons | karasu

0.5k words | x gn!reader | nsfw | suggestive and explicit content

— It's going to take place at his house. He's not comfortable being caught or overheard doing that with you at the House of Lamentation right now. He also wants to be completely open and vulnerable for you, and he needs his private space for that.

— He knows what he wants but doesn't really know how to get there. He's going to be trying to kiss you and undress you at the same time. It might be a bit clumsy because he wants to take things slow, but it's hard because he's desperate to finally touch you.

— He's going to be loud. It's canon, he is not quiet in bed. He's going to talk constantly about how much he's wanted this, how good you feel, how gorgeous you are, how hard you make him. When he can't form words anymore, he's going to be moaning and whimpering and whining from pleasure. He doesn't swear often but he loses his composure when he cums.

— You probably won't see his demon form in bed, at least not yet. It would be too overwhelming with the heightened senses and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. He may unfurl his wings during or after, but his full form won't manifest.

— It might be a little disappointing if you have unrealistic expectations. He can't recall the last time he had sex with someone (think a couple decades or longer) so he doesn't have the control or the stamina to make things last. He's going to be so embarrassed by it, but eventually all he can think about is finding new ways to please you. He's going to make it up to you while he recuperates so expect multiple rounds rather than one long drawn-out session.

— He might giggle if something feels ticklish, or sometimes he just feels euphoric when he cums. He might cry, too. He's a sensitive, deliriously happy mess of a demon. He hopes you'll embrace both possibilities because these are sides of him that no one else has ever seen.

— He'll be open to being pegged/fucked later, but for your first time, he wants to fuck you. If you want to get on top and ride him though, by all means. He might last longer that way too. Also, he's going to openly stare at your body as you move above him (when he's not throwing his head back against the pillow with a whine to try and hold back his release a little longer).

— The morning after might be a rare time when he actually decides to use a personal day to skip work. He will be very reluctant to leave your side for a while.

— After he walks you back to the House of Lamentation, he's going to flop down in the messy sheets and roll around in your scent. He's going to get hard thinking about you and the night before, and he's already itching for the next time you can spend the night.

when solomon falls in love

content + warnings: solomon x reader, angst with a happy ending, there is a deep sadness within solomon but i can fix him, minor discussions of s3 plot points // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

the day solomon realizes he's in love with you is the worst day of his life, he thinks, in the first moment he realizes.

solomon's had a lot of terrible days. from simple ones-- caught in the rain, misplaced keys, harsh words spoken by people he cares about-- to life-altering, fate-changing hellish days. he's been around for centuries, and admittedly conjured himself up some pretty shitty karma. this day, however, tops the list.

because the moment solomon realizes he's in love with you is the moment he realizes he'll never have you.

it's a rare moment the both of you are sharing. the two of you are alone in a coffee shop in some quaint corner of the human realm. your trials with the sorcerer society have been wearing on you, so solomon saw it fitting to sweep his adorable little apprentice away for some well-deserved down time.

it's dawn here. sunlight peaks through the clouds, painting the gray skies a vibrant orange through the shop's large windows. the sunlight tickles your cheekbones, occasionally catching your eyes and making them flutter as you dodge the blinding sunbeams. how long has it been since solomon's seen you in the daylight? the devildom is beautiful, but it's dark and dim during all hours of the day. he's used to seeing you under city lights, shop signs and advertisements in neon colors dancing across your features. or under the warm-but-artificial house lights in all the buildings down there, cozy but not quite the same. no, you look best in daylight. golden, pure daylight, trickling through the cosmos just so he can see every detail on your face.

he wants to memorize you. he wants to etch your features into his brain so that he'll be able to remember you far into the future. the coming days are uncertain. licensure into the sorcerer's society is not exactly easy-- you'll have your work cut out for you if you continue down this path. maybe somewhere along the way you'll find yourself content instead with a simple life in the human realm, shedding the devildom like a winter coat in spring when your life begins a new chapter. he's always worried about you, about losing you, about a day when you'll bid him goodbye for good. obsessive? he likes to think of it as "sentimental". and he's never been this sentimental for anyone else but you.

you take a sip of your drink with a small smile. it's cold outside, the subtle chill of autumn beginning to fade into the biting cold of winter. the drink in your hands is warm, and you cup it between your between your palms for warmth. he smiles. his own drink is smooth and a little bitter. solomon he grabs the last sugar packet from the center of the table and dumps it in, swirling the mixture around the distribute the sweetness. then he folds the trash into a compact ball. there's a dink! as he flicks it at you, hitting your cheek gently before it falls onto the table. you laugh at his antics. it's the best sound he's ever heard.

"gotcha."

"what are you, seven?"

"you're just mad i have good aim."

"yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. do... do you mind if i ask you a question?"

"anything."

you proceed to ask him how he found this place. technically, it's not even in the country you're from... he laughs and explains how he found it. he likes when your attention is focused all in on him. your eyes get this certain glint to them as you listen, like he's the only person you care about in that moment. he'd kill to see that look anywhere else-- could you imagine the faces of the demon brothers should you look at him so attentively around them?

solomon swallows down the lump of jealousy rising in his throat. that's the thing. you don't look at him like that in front of anyone else.

his next sip of coffee tastes bitter, more so than before-- he can't blame the shop, nor the sugar packet for the taste, but instead the acid creeping up his throat from the mere displeasure of the idea. it's so very solomon to ruin his own good time with a nasty thought.

why?

why does he do this to himself? to cherish something so delicate even though he knows it will shatter under the weight of life's circumstances?

that's because solomon's in love with you. and love doesn't always listen to reason.

he has toyed around with the idea of loving you for awhile. he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to always be the petulant, lost child he once was, always reaching for things he was never destined to have. when he was young, he craved freedom. as an adult, power. and now, further along in his life, he wants you.

you seem to notice the sour look on his face. your eyebrows furrow as you ask him what's wrong. it's instinct that guides him to brush you off, to give you a big smile and feign attention into whatever you begin talking about next.

does he deserve you? probably not. his sins probably outweigh that of any lower demon. he's lied and cheated, fucked people over in ways unimaginable to someone like you. you're a blank slate, a clean ledger, yet to ruin your own life. or maybe you won't. you've always been better than him that way.

will he ever distance himself to heal from the wounds of unrequited love? probably not. he'll stick by your side as you inevitably choose one of the demon brothers or angels or royals over him-- he won't blame you. of all the fascinating people you've met, he understands the allure of a human like him is dim in comparison. no hard feelings. he can't ever seem to muster up anything sour towards you.

"are you listening?" you finally ask, loud enough to grab his attention. he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"sorry. i'm... a bit scatterbrained today. what were you saying?"

you huff. "i was telling you a story, but i bent my straw too far and it broke."

you bend it again to show him the damage. sure enough, it's snapped under the weight of your fidgeting. solomon's lips curl into a sympathetic pout.

"i can grab you another."

"nah, it's okay. i've got it."

you rise from your seat and walk to the counter of the coffee place. solomon takes a deep breath and steals his resolve. all this self-loathing and pining is making him a bad friend, and you deserve much better than to talk to a brick wall. he sighs. so what if he's in love with you? so what if he's lost in the tumult of his own feelings? he needs to get it together and enjoy this time with you before you return to the devildom, and he has to share you aga--

"excuse me?"

"yes? how can i help you?"

"can i get another straw? oh, and can i get some more of those little sugar packets? my boyfriend used the last one on the table."

"of course! give me one moment--"

...

what?

his brain almost completely shuts down hearing those words leave your lips. he subtly looks around to see if anyone else is in the coffee shop-- there's a man in the corner reading his paper and two teenagers huddled over iced coffee. no, none of them are at your table, using the last sugar packet like he did, your boyfriend--

"close your mouth. you're attracting flies," you say quietly, sliding a few sugar packets over to him.

he's... flabbergasted, honestly. during the entirety of his downward spiral, never once did he anticipate this outcome. you... you wanted him?

his lips pull into a smirk-- it's more of a grin than he wanted, but he just can't help himself right now. he's damn near giddy at your indirect confession.

"boyfriend? you wouldn't happen to be referring to me, would you?"

"that's why you brought me here, right?"

that question catches him off-guard. honestly, no. he just wanted some time to breathe with you, without obligations or demons ready to pounce for your attention. but the way your lips curl around the straw between them makes his heart race.

"... and if i did?"

"then i would say this is a pretty good date spot. now, pay attention when i talk, old man."

as attentive as he aims to be, he just can't stop his mind from wandering. you're his. all of the fear and angst wash away as the sun shines brightly on your table, illuminating the delicate wood grain beneath his trembling fingers. and for once, solomon doesn't worry about what will happen if he lets himself love you.

maybe this day isn't so bad after all.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset

₊˚⊹｡ 20/20 | oikawa tooru

wc: 931 summary: oikawa finally gets around to doing lasik.  warnings: mentions of lasik eye procedure, lots of cheesiness, too sweet!! there are ants!!, vague mentions of ldr in case that’s triggering for anyone! could be read as gn! a/n: super belated birthday post for our july 20 birthday boy! i hc that oikawa’s eyesight is bad and gets worse as he gets older -> why he needs to get lasik done!! i love him!! he’s a big baby!! also inspired by one of the prompts from @/nightprompts's list of prompts here.

Oikawa finally gets his Lasik procedure done during one of his off seasons. 

Thank god, because you honestly think it’s been a long time coming. His eyesight from high school has only gotten progressively worse since going pro—contacts drying his eyes out the longer and more intensely he plays. 

There’s a sigh, then, “Wooow,” Oikawa squints, scrunching his nose to form (those cute) little creases near the corners of his eyes. You look at him, concerned, worried that the light is too much for him post-op. “I really can’t see, baby.” 

You’re about to reach for the cap tucked in your bag before he stops you by the wrist, continuing, “You’re blinding me with your pretty.” There’s that (damned) smirk on his face when he says it too—like he’s been preparing for this moment since he finally agreed to getting Lasik. 

Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the exact reason he finally did decide on pushing through with the procedure.

You remove his fingers from your wrist and hold his hand gently, rolling your eyes as you lead him down the steps of the eye clinic. The corners of your lips curve up, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. You should be immune to him by now, but your body seems to have a reflex that reacts every time Oikawa tries to make you blush.

He raises a hand to shade his eyes, blinking a few times before fully opening them slowly. And what a sight it is: you, looking up at him from the last step of the stairs, trying hard to hide the smile he knows he’s responsible for. 

“Baby, stop smiling so brightly. I still have light sensitivity.” 

You laugh, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He hops down the last step and lands right beside you. 

“How long have you been waiting to use those?” you tug at his hand for him to lean down little, placing the cap you’d fished out from your bag on top of his messy brown hair. 

“As if you don’t like it, meanie.” Oikawa pouts, and his lips jut out ever so slightly to expose light pink. 

You smile even wider, shaking your head as you readjust his cap to settle amidst wavy hair. Your fingers trail down to play with the tips of his ears as they coax him lower for you to land a small peck at the tip of his nose. 

“M’sorry. I like it, Tooru, but I think we should set another doctor’s appointment.” your eyes meet his as you hold back a giggle. He raises his eyebrow, questioning. “I think you might have caught a serious bug–” you pause for emphasis, “–the love bug.” 

There’s a look of disbelief on his face, brown eyes wide and mouth agape. You burst out laughing. 

“You’re even worse than me! And you call me cheesy?!”

You loop your arm around Oikawa’s as you walk to the car, still laughing as he continues to mumble about how you’re seriously starting to take after him. The walk to the car isn’t too far from the clinic entrance, but it takes you a bit longer considering you’re essentially guiding a 6’ 1” pro-athlete densely packed with muscle straight out of his Lasik procedure. 

When you first heard the real reason why Oikawa evaded the procedure for so long, you thought he was joking.

You thought he’d held it off because he was busy, or that he was afraid of the entire thing (if ‘lasik eye surgery procedure video’ in his search history was anything to go by), but nope. Oikawa’s biggest concern was that he wouldn’t be able to clearly see you. For a day, or maybe two—at least until the aftereffects of light sensitivity disappear. He’d shared it to you so shyly, as if he hasn’t already bared to you the contents of his heart (full of volleyball, and friends, but most especially you). 

And it’s cheesy (which isn’t far off from his usual sweet-talking), but it’s true. 

One of the things Oikawa hates the most is missing moments of you—the in-betweens of breakfasts and skincare by the bathroom sink, those long tangents you go on about a dog you’d seen on the street in the middle of recounting your day. Since getting more free time in his career, Oikawa’s always chosen to spend those few extra hours on you. 

It’s hard enough as is, spending half the year communicating through phone screens. To compromise that because he’d be ‘sensitive to light’ or something was enough of a dealbreaker already. 

So here you were, tending to your big baby of a boyfriend who lives half the world away. You really wanted your trip to be a surprise—after all, lining up your holiday with his off season has only happened one other time despite your many years together. 

But if this was the only way to convince your pro-loverboy that he didn’t have to worry about not being able to see you, because you’d be around him anyway, then so be it. Anything for him. 

.

Once Oikawa settles in the car, he’s knocked out, sleeping by the passenger seat as you drive yourselves back to the apartment.

The next few days find you guiding Oikawa around like a baby learning how to walk. He’s constantly stumbling, picking up things he’s not supposed to, and ‘accidentally’ bumping into you any chance he gets. You know he’s exaggerating, but he wouldn’t be your Tooru if he wasn’t, and you love that about him. Fully. Wholly. 

You wouldn’t have him any other way. 

date idea with Ushijima

Go for hike and get carried the rest of the way to the top because you don't have the same stamina

Or he's new to Poland and he invites you to a restaurant to tast test the original dishes so you order everything of the menu and try to guess the recipe behind it

gn!reader | !!! IT’S TOSHI'S BIRTHDAY!!! >__< gonna talk about both of these. he picks a trail near your house that he's jogged dozens of times before. he makes sure you have water and sunscreen and doesn't at all mind when you ask to be carried. he'll check if you’re comfortable and tells you to watch out for branches…. slows/lets you down when you want to take photos of some flowers or a squirrel…

when you ask if he’s doing alright he tells you he’s fine and not to worry ;; you make him promise to tell you if he gets tired so you can take a break together. he could say he doesn't think he'll need to, but instead he smiles softly and says okay anyway.

! imagine his surprise when there's something set up already for his birthday up there. he's not somebody who's easily caught off guard, so you can't help but feel accomplished when he turns to you with widened eyes.

"surprise!"

wakatoshi blinks, mind still processing. but then he tilts his head, half amused, half genuinely curious. "did you really need me to carry you up the rest of the way?"

"i mean, i was tired. but also i had to sell the act, didn't i?" you smile. "are you mad?"

he lets out a breathy laugh, more a puff of air than anything, before coming closer. "no, i'd be glad to carry you up again if you wanted to come back."

"really? would you carry me down after we're done?"

his initial response isn't a yes or no. instead, he decides to pick you up where you're standing, getting you to wrap your arms around his neck in surprise. the gravel shifts under his feet as he turns to bring you to your set up—a blanket very carefully laid and held down on the corners, with gifts you had bought weeks ago ready to open. "ask me afterward."

also i looked up polish dishes last night while thinking abt this and got hungry. why'd i do that at 1am w nothing but cookies on me... BUT THE IDEA IS SOO CUTE omg he looks up some popular places and reads a Lot of reviews beforehand.. the workers are happy to recommend some popular dishes and think your idea is really nice lolol ^^

soft toshi... holding your fork up to feed him and him doing the same for you while chewing... so cute. cute guy. him furrowing his brows as he tries to discern what’s in the dish and throwing ideas back and forth with you… him softly chuckling when you scrunch up your face because you didn’t like the taste of something. he instinctively reaches to move the plate away and slides your glass closer instead. he asks “didn’t like that one?” as if you aren’t already gulping your water down

and he’s genuinely curious about the ingredients while the workers explain afterward !! he listens especially close when they describe the ones you really enjoyed. like he’s not leaving without making a mental list of which dishes were your favourites.

but also i think it would be so cute if there wasn’t a set plan. like the both of you happen to walk past a cozy looking place and you grab his hand to go in. and even if the food doesn't end up spectacular or anything, the fact that this is the first spot you visit together makes it a special place. depending on how good it is, it could either be a cute date spot every couple of months or a regular spot. picking up some drinks and treats to surprise you for dinner kind of thing ;;

his birthday... the idea that you guys become regulars. you go in and mention it's his birthday soon and ask if they have a good desert idea, or if they could do something special. and yeah of course they'll whip something up for this ?? famous volleyball player who just happens to like their local shop ?? who's a little scary but polite and endearingly obviously (in a relative sense) in love with you.

and i'm not saying the place would see a bunch of new customers because ushijima, a guy notorious for the lack of personal posts on his social media, posted about them and you after receiving a special birthday dinner,, but i'm not denying that idea either (ゝω･)

tangent but i rlly do love the idea of u telling toshi to pose for a picture on the hike or putting a flower in his hair for it .. or him with a little party hat on lololol

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