#really REALLY makes his eyes extra bright and sparkly
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not to be disgusting but when kai wears the dark green and his eyes go 👁️👁️ it really brings a girl to tears
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Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
extra / alternatively, read on wattpad
*timeline: somewhere after the main story
Piccolo amore (word count: 8k) -updated 8th of April 2024
You don’t know how this ever escaped you before, but as it turned out, Harry had quite the thing for travelling. As a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF (well, he was a father after all), Harry had eventually embraced his freedom after enough years had passed for him to actually start enjoying life again. He had limited visitation rights for his small daughter, Emily, so what was a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF to do other than to travel, namely through Europe, although some of his other favourite destinations had been as far away as Japan.
He was 27 when he first stepped foot in Italy, and, according to Harry, it was love at first sight. Had it not been for Emily, he’d have moved indefinitely, that’s how much he loved it there. He took extended trips though, and had even started to learn some Italian, practising everytime he stayed for as long as 2 months at a time.
As time went on though, his interior design business really took off back in the US and his growing daughter needed his presence in her life more and more, despite her mother’s interference and efforts to alienate them. Time had flown, and here he was, 43 now and no longer single this time around as he returned after countless years.
But very much still a smoking hot DILF.
…Tuscany, Italy. Literal heaven on earth. You hadn’t bought the plane tickets back yet, but you were in no hurry to leave.
It’d been a journey, getting here. And you didn’t just mean Tuscany.
It hadn’t been easy.
Days had trickled by seamlessly. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here for. It was a haze of sleeping in, sunbathing, afternoon naps, decadent food and sweaty, delicious sex.
Looking at him on the wheel of the convertible he’d rented for your stay there, your heart felt like it could inflate enough to break out of your chest. His curls were a delicious mess, he was all tanned and bright eyes as he glanced at you from time to time to flash one of those trademark smiles of his your way. The sun was setting so you’d taken his sunnies off, making him chuckle. “Just wanna look at you properly.”
“Look at the scenery! You can always ogle me but you’re not gonna have this view every day.”
“All I want is you every day.” Yes, Tuscany was breathtaking but whenever you tried to remind yourself to take it all in you inadvertently found yourself settling your eyes back on Harry. How could you, when there was a time, not long ago, when you thought you’d never lay eyes on him ever again?
He squeezed your thigh, his hand in your lap as always and you kept caressing his knuckles, probably doing a great job at polishing his rings as a result. He had to keep his eyes on the road, since these were unfamiliar places you were exploring almost on the daily and almost every road was as narrow as the last.
He flipped his palm over yours, interlacing your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. He then placed it over his heart and you giggled as he pulled you almost completely over to his side in doing so. He let go then, chuckling in return but you kept your arm extended, and ran the back of your hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone, then his ear, running your fingers through his hair a bit, then down his sharp jawline,admiring his perfect profile.
“I love you, you know,” you nearly murmured, and with the loud sportscar engine you weren’t sure he’d even heard you.
But he did. Had he still been wearing his sunglasses you probably would’ve missed the way his eyes glazed over, slowly growing sparkly in the sunset light. “Baby… none of that. Come on, let me see that handsome smile again.”
“I am smiling. I’m always smiling nowadays. Always. No matter what happens, my default state is happy, because you’re here. I just get emotional sometimes… never tire of you saying that. Never stop, please.”
It was your turn to get teary eyed. “Baby… never. I’ll never stop saying it, feeling it, showing you how much I love you. All the times I wished I could tell you and couldn’t… never taking a day for granted ever again.”
Harry was pulling over, having entered the town you were passing through to get to the small quaint village where you’d rented out a villa for your stay, and before you could ask why, he leaned over and kissed you senseless. This was another thing you’d never tire of. Harry never kissed just for the hell of it. He put his all into every single kiss, be it small, chaste peck or full on make-out session. “My little love. Let’s have gelato for dessert and then I’m taking you home to love on you, how’s that sound?”
“Can we skip the gelato?”
Harry chuckled. “Darling, are you really passing up ice cream so that I could fuck you sooner?”
“Duh. Feel like licking something else. And creampies are better than icecreams. Come onnn….”
Harry laughed out loud at that. “You’re a menace. Up you get before you talk me into this.”
You rolled your eyes playfully but he was already at the passenger door opening it for you then reaching over to the backseat to grab your jacket. It could get chilly even in the warm summer evenings sometimes. He kept it in his one hand and held yours in his other as you began your slow stroll through the nice little town, but Harry seemed to know where you were headed.
“You got a specific place in mind?”
“Mhm. Used to come here often back in the day. Hope it’s still running, they had the best gelato. A… uhm, local brought me there, so you know it’s the real deal.”
“A local, huh?” You teased. Of course you knew what Harry must have been up to on his trips here when he was younger. Nothing wrong about it, of course, and you felt silly for being ever so slightly jealous over it. Part of you wished you could’ve been together much earlier on, but of course, the age difference would’ve made it impossible anyway. You two had met at exactly the right time. Even so, sometimes you felt nostalgic over the lost time you could’ve had together had things been different. Some of which was just life… and some of it, your own doing.
“Signor Harry!”
Your eyes widened at the interaction between the two men, snapping out of your train of thought, the guilt ebbing away but never really going away, ever.
You couldn’t understand Italian, but Harry was still pretty fluent, at least conversationally. He understood it more than he could speak it, at least that’s what he claimed, but ever since you’d arrived in Tuscany he only spoke Italian to everyone he interacted with. You just sat back and admired him, Italian sounded hot as fuck coming out of his mouth. You could tell there was always some sort of talk about you going on with the way the people he was speaking to kept looking at you; and the little you did understand- “bellissima”, “ragazza”, “amante”- you knew that was in reference to you.
This instance was no different, the old man he’d encountered behind the gelato stand seemingly very interested in knowing more about you. Lord knows what Harry was telling them, they all had the same excited reaction, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, sometimes they’d wink at you and it’d make you all flustered.
“Piccolo amore, what flavors would you like, hm?” He pulled you closer into his side.
“Har, they’re all in Italian…”
He pointed at each, translating for you. “Bourbon vanilla, but I guess you got that, Belgian chocolate too, ummm, rum and raisins, strawberries, mint chocolate chip, lemon, meringue,...” he clarified with the older man and then continued “figs, pistachio, dark chocolate, crème brûlée–”
“Oh gosh, stop, I can’t even keep track of so many… just get me what you think I’ll like, alright? What are you getting? Mint chocolate chip?”
“Duh,” he mimicked you from earlier and smothered a kiss on the top of your head, then gave the old man your order. He’d gotten a cone with two scoops for you, which he handed over promptly. “There you go, lovie. I got you dark chocolate and pistachio.”
“Perfect,” you beamed.
“Sorry, they didn’t have creampie.”
You nearly choked on your first taste of the icecream but promptly remembered the older man probably didn’t know what that was. Hopefully. Or if it sounded familiar he’d probably think of an apple pie with extra whipped cream, or something. Hopefully.
“It’s ok, that’s what you would’ve wanted anyway,” you teased and gave him a pointed look. He’d slurped you clean from behind as recently as that morning. He pinched your hip he was resting his hand on then diverted his attention to his double scoop of mint chocolate chip, on a cone just like yours. Harry exchanged some more pleasantries with the old man, as well as paid for the gelato, then after you waved at him politely you resumed your stroll through the old historical town.
Harry loved throwing his arm over your shoulders, or better yet, keeping a firm hold of the back of your neck as you walked. He’d always been possessive of you, and, if anything, he was even more so in Italy where men had a distinct way of ogling women, even catcalling- something they’d never dream of doing with Harry by your side, of course, but their eyes roamed freely scanning you head to toe, and you could feel it everywhere you went. Harry must’ve been hyper aware of it too, maybe more so than you were, because he would snake his hand into your hair and angle your head sufficiently to kiss you- the minty, cold feel of his tongue against yours novel and refreshing. Or even slide his large palm in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your bum a firm squeeze every now and then. “Love this plump arse.”
You puffed through your nostrils, “you better, it’s your fault it’s getting so big. First that fancy pasta and wine for dinner, not gelato, and it’s been like this ever since we got here. I barely buttoned up these jeans today. Gonna have to resort to just wearing my sundresses.”
“You’ll hear no complaints here. Besides, I did say I’d feed you and plump you up, didn’t I? You’re about the same as you were when we first met. Perfect.”
He was right. You’d lost a significant amount of weight in an unhealthy way during your time apart. And he was looking so much healthier too. Happier.
“You’re beautiful either way, Y/N. I just want you healthy and happy. And I know for a fact pasta makes you happy, so…” he shrugged playfully and you kissed his dimple. You knew he was thinking about the same things you were.
It was hard letting go of the past. You couldn’t erase the time apart and the damage it’d done to both of you and your relationship. But for the past 5 months you’d been rebuilding it, day after day, brick by brick. Some days were tough. Especially at the beginning. It’d taken a lot of love, patience and understanding on both sides to get where you were now.
But it was always in the back of your mind.
You still woke up in the middle of the night, startled, somehow back in those crappy places you used to rent out while you’d been on the run. Only for Harry to tighten his hold around your middle, kiss your shoulder gently and reassure you he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
Harry battled insomnia for a long while, something he’d suffered with while you’d been apart and couldn’t seem to shake off. It reached a point where he now was struggling not to doze off while softening, still inside of you, cuddling in your post orgasmic bliss, before he could clean both of you up. Took a lot of night-long marathons to get there, but it did the trick. The flipside was you calling him an old man. But what else was new?
It still felt weird drinking wine by yourself at dinner, since Harry was now completely sober. Had been since he’d found you waiting on his doorstep. He’d struggled with it at first. It’s hard giving up alcohol cold turkey especially considering it’d gotten to the point where he got into the habit of getting wasted and getting himself into trouble while you’d been apart. Just to… feel something.
You didn’t know how he’d done it, but he hadn’t had a sip since you’d been back into his eyes. You knew it must’ve been really difficult, but he kept the struggle to himself. Focused on you and your fragile relationship.
It’d been particularly hard that one time when you went out with his extended group of friends for Halloween and he found himself in a social setting where everyone was drinking around him, for the first time in a long while. And that would’ve been manageable had he not had to watch a new addition to the group give you a hickey, in a game of truth or dare. You still remember how hard it’d been for Harry to reign it in that night- not just the need for alcohol but also keeping himself in check, doing his best to calm down in the bathroom and then leave the party inconspicuously before anyone got hurt. He tried to hide it from you but you found him in time to help him as best you could. You never wanted him to feel like he had to tackle all his demons alone.
That had been the biggest hurdle so far, but he’d made it through sans incident and you were so proud of him. You didn’t care giving up drinking for his sake if it meant it wouldn’t be a trigger for him, but he assured you that you could indulge whenever you felt like it and that it wasn’t your fault he had to give it up completely.
You could argue that it was, in fact, your fault. You had argued. You two didn’t see eye to eye on this at all, Harry insisting he wasn’t going to let you take the responsibility for it all: after all, his daughter had caused it all to spiral out of control- he should’ve told her off, been more assertive, taken control of the situation; hell, he should’ve raised her better!
But you tried your best not to go there, the two of you. Not anymore. You’d talked things out for a long while, and just decided it was better not to keep bringing up the hurtful past. There was no use anymore. You’d both learned your lessons from it and it was time to live in the moment. Create new, happy memories, that someday, maybe soon, would completely make up for those 17 months in which you’d both just… existed, at most.
And even when you got teary eyed, like earlier in the car, you didn’t have to speak the words to know what the other was trying to convey and how it all still hurt so much sometimes that it felt like the present was a sweet dream, a bubble ready to burst anytime, only for the two of you to wake up each in their own miserable existence, apart and alone.
It still hurt. You both still hurt, but you couldn’t change the past. So instead of pretending it never happened, you acknowledged it, and acted on it the best way you could, doting on eachother with as much love as you could.
Therapy helped a lot. Gave you the tools to work through it and turn it into a valuable lesson, if anything.
“You make me happy.”
He kissed the top of your head in response, “think it’s time to head back home. You’re getting needier by the minute.”
You squinted your eyes at him. “Well, excuse me for being a loving girlfriend I guess.”
“Oh, I know you are, baby. And I love it. But whenever you get like this I just know you’re gonna get all whiny and bratty if I don’t fill you up soon. Hm? Am I wrong? You’re gonna tell me you don’t feel all achy already?”
You huffed. Darnit. He knew you all too well.
“And then if I don’t act on it quick enough you turn bratty. So c’mon.” He placed your jacket he’d been carrying for you over your shoulders, “it’s getting a bit chilly, too.”
Harry was right, as always. You found yourself squirming on the ride back to the villa, rubbing your thighs together. Sure, the wine always got you a bit needy. But you’d acted pretty needy the whole trip. You were just so content and he looked so good and tan and radiant whenever he smiled, he spoke Italian in that low timbre, he fed you goodies and took you to see beautiful places, and then on top if it all he fucked you good and made you feel so loved and appreciated.
You just couldn’t help it. Your dynamic had shifted slightly ever since you’d gotten back together. He’d always been dominant but now you just naturally stepped wholly into your feminine energy in his presence, letting him take over completely- and not just in bed. You were his and handed yourself over to him fully. And it was palpable. You knew he could feel it too.
However, he was right about you getting bratty if he didn’t shower you in affection the moment you craved it. Be it because you were in a public setting or what, sometimes you wished you could just hop in his lap and forget about everything and everyone around. He made you crazy with want and need and you were still growing to learn this side of yourself, as he was learning to manage it. You trusted him to lead the way.
You just got impatient sometimes. Maybe a bit bratty even, as he put it.
You scooted closer to him, as far as your seatbelt allowed, and reached to kiss his jaw. You didn’t just stop after a loud smooch though, no, you started mouthing and nibbling at his jawline, licking your way up to his ear and making him shiver. He was cleanshaven, and you took full advantage.
“Just a gentle reminder that I’m driving a motorised vehicle, sweetheart.”
“I know. You always focus and prioritise our safety, driving so aptly down these narrow roads. And then when we’re on longer strips ahead you really hit the gas, so that my hair can fly all wild the way I like and I can throw my hands up and almost feel like I’m flying, and the car is all horsepower and you look like sex personified.” You brought your hand to his lap and began rubbing dangerously closer and closer to his crotch.
“Y/N,...” he warned.
“What? I can’t help it. Whenever you rev the engine it tickles me, daddy… can feel it in my pussy. Now I’m all drippy.”
“Told you you’d turn into a whiny brat. Scoot back in your seat and be a good girl for daddy. Go on, don’t make me ask you twice.”
You huffed irritatedly and did as instructed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window at the scenery trying to distract yourself. It was dark out now and Harry had pulled the top on the convertible, so you really didn’t understand what the big deal was. You could’ve at least given him a handjob…
But finally, finally you got to the villa and as soon as Harry shut the door behind you, you literally jumped his bones, making him chuckle between the kisses you were peppering his whole face with.
“Uff, needy puppy. What’s gotten into you, hm? You’re extra lovesick today. Didn’t I fuck you good and proper this morning? I’m certain you remember it since you had to mention it in front of poor Luciano. He’s 79 you know. What if he’d had a heart attack?”
You gasped in mock offence, “excuse me?! You’re the one who brought it up!”
“I sure did, wanna see?”
You pushed at his shoulder at his stupid pun as he brought you to the bedroom. He was unfazed of course, you couldn’t budge him if you wanted to, and instead threw you onto the bed with a bounce as if you were a throw pillow he’d been carrying, not his “plumped-up” girlfriend.
He began unbuttoning his shirt, a sight you’d never tire of and you squirmed gawking at him before he pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and peeled your jeans off. “Ufff, look at this weepy little pussy. You made a mess of these panties, Y/N,” he tsked and it only made you grow wetter. You loved it when he teased and even humiliated you a bit. “So, are you gonna answer me or not? What got you so cockdumb, darling, hm? Was it the wine?”
“No,” you whined, “you know I only had two glasses… it’s not that. Plus I ate enough carbs to make up for it, anyway.”
“Then what is it, hm?” He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and then pushed your knees to your chest, running his large palms over the back of your thighs.
You threw your head back against the mattress in anticipation and whined pathetically. He was right. You really were extra sensitive tonight. “I’m… I guess I’m ovulating. That must be it.”
Harry groaned deep in his chest and plunged nose first into the fabric of your panties, inhaling deeply. “You smell so heady whenever you ovulate, you know that? Pussy so fragrant, makes my mouth water.”
You’d not gotten back on birth control after so long off it. After a long while of relying on condoms you decided to ditch those, too. Harry pulled out most times, but, since creampies were obviously a hot topic in this relationship, you did ask him to finish inside you occasionally.
Lately it had been more often than not.
You both knew the implications of it, had discussed it. Hell, Harry definitely had a breeding kink to start off with, had had it even while you’d been on birth control since having this kink didn’t necessarily imply actually wanting to get you pregnant.
He’d expressed it was definitely more than just a kink though, and that he’d only ever felt this way about you. But it was up to you. He already had a kid, all grown up now ( even though Emily was still a delicate topic between the two of you). But you were young and he wasn’t too old to be a father by any means, you had time along the line for this, there was no rush, and there were no expectations either way. That being said, he did express his desire to have children with you if you deemed him worthy of it and if you even saw yourself as a mother someday.
You’d not made up your mind about it, however. You were open to the possibility, but definitely not actively trying for a baby, not yet at least. You still felt like you needed more time together just the two of you.
But the way he spoke to you whenever he talked about fantasising knocking you up really got to you. And he felt so good fucking you raw, felt so good filling you up. It felt so natural and your body craved it, craved all of it. It was primal, and you knew it, but it felt so good to just listen to what your bodies dictated instinctually.
You mewled and felt him pull your panties to the side, “fuck, Y/N. You’re drenched, baby. Why didn’t you tell daddy it was this bad, hm? Would’ve eaten you out in the restaurant’s bathroom or something.”
It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. No better than a couple of horny teenagers, really.
His mouth on you was divine, as always. You often wondered if other men even knew how to eat pussy the way Harry did. Seemed like some sort of special talent you were either born with or doomed to live without. He knew what you liked and needed better than you did. How else would anyone explain that you could never dream of getting yourself off the way Harry did?
He pushed your knees further back and really dug in after he promptly peeled your panties off of you. You wanted to beg for him to sink into you but you knew Harry never left a job unfinished, and whenever he ate you out he never left from between your legs until they were shaking and you came on his tongue at least twice, out of which at least once using his fingers also to open you up for him properly. Because, still, after all this time, you couldn’t really take Harry without some sort of warm-up, no matter how drippy you were for him. It was a struggle fitting him in whenever you tended to forgo foreplay, and that was something you fully enjoyed too. Loved the pain that came with him slowly feeding that massive cock of his into you, trying to make it fit inch by delicious inch. But that was for when you were either in a hurry of some sort and desperately needed to squeeze in a quickie, or for when he was feeling particularly mean dom-ish. You rarely got to experience Harry in that mindspace though, and even then he was never hurting you really. It was just a lot rougher and because it was such a rare treat, it was secretly your favourite.
This time, however, you’d seemingly forgotten how Harry had warned you not to get bratty. “Not in a hurry, baby. Gonna feast on this pussy for as long as I damn well please. After all, you know how much I love edging you, and you do need to be punished, hm? Brats don’t get to come. At least not until daddy says so. You’ve been warned, Y/N.”
“But daddy….” you whined pathetically, “I’ve been on edge all day, you can’t do this, not now… please!”
“Should’ve been patient, baby. Told you I’d take care of you when we got back. And I did take care of you this morning, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. Can’t have that can we?”
You kicked your legs a bit and Harry delivered a harsh slap to your bum followed by another swifter one to your pussy, making you keen and pant heavily. “Don’t test me, Y/N. You wanna come? Then be a good girl and take it. Begging doesn’t hurt either.”
You did take it, as best you could. And you did beg. You needed to come desperately but Harry kept edging you for what must’ve been at least over half an hour, although it felt like hours on end.
Then, you decided to switch tactics. Try and play on his own desires.
“Ugh, daddy, please, please fill me up. My pussy needs it, I need to be full. Need it so much. Need your big fat cock to ram into my cervix over and over again. Need to feel you in my tummy. And my tits feel so heavy and tender, at least show them some love, daddy. Please… ovulating is making me feel crazy… My body needs you to mark it every way you can, daddy. Please…”
Harry chuckled sardonically against your pussy, making you tremble but you knew better than to get lost in the feeling and let yourself come without permission. “I know what you’re doing, sweetheart. What a desperate, filthy little thing, playing with me this way. You really must want it bad to taunt daddy like this.”
“I do, daddy, I do, I swear I do… I’d do anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it. All I want is for you to fill me up to the brim and then keep going. Cause I know you can, I’ve seen you do it… I love how you stay hard for me even after you finish, pumping your come back into me again and again and then going all night long until you have me choke on you so that you could unload down my throat this time… please, want it again daddy, I know you can… don’t you want to? Doesn’t have to be my mouth the second time around, you can come inside me again, make it catch. Knock me up. Tie me down.”
Harry groaned loudly this time around and pushed your thighs apart, hovering over you whilst his hand went directly around your neck, squeezing enough for you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. He eased up a little for you to focus your gaze back on him before he licked his lips, your juices all over his face that he’d shaved clean that very afternoon before you’d left for dinner. You loved how he did that sometimes, just as much as you loved his stubble. It was a nice switch and he looked just as handsome either way, you couldn’t make up your mind which you preferred more. However, you did feel grateful he’d shaved before edging you like this for so long, otherwise you’d have been sure to chafe a bit from all the friction his stubble would’ve inflicted.
“Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire. You know all too well I’d love nothing more than to fuck a baby into you. I already creampied you this morning, we’re on dangerous territory as it is.”
He was right. You knew he was. But in that moment, fuck it if you cared. If anything, you two had learned how to just be, live in the moment. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.
“All I know is that I want you, all of you. Forever. Whatever that means. Let’s just… be.”
Harry pressed his lips against you and kissed you thoroughly. He’d long since undressed as well, stroking himself languidly every now and then as he ate you out. He didn’t edge himself, you’re the one who needed to be punished, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to be inside of you just as much as you did. But Harry had one thing you lacked which was self control and that’s one of the things that made him such an apt dom in the bedroom.
So, it was easy to slip right inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up hungrily and squeezing him tightly, lest he pulled away. It was such a heady feeling finally being full after craving it for what felt like ages that he’d been edging you, and it only took a few minutes and his permission for you to come hard all over him, making a mess of both of you and the bedding. Luckily the villa had another bedroom you’d not used yet so you didn’t have to worry about changing the bedsheets before you went to sleep.
“That’s it, baby, fucking drench me. Fuck, you were ready to burst weren’t you? My poor darling. Daddy really did a number on you tonight. Gonna keep on coming for me, really open you up for me. How’s that sound? We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulating this poor, sopping pussy.”
You cried out real tears of pleasure as he was dirty talking all throughout your orgasm, never slowing down, no reprieve. He was hellbent on going from one extreme to the other. “Gonna open you up real good, push myself in so deep you’ll feel it for days. You wanted all night? I’ll give you all night.”
Harry didn’t let up. Had you coming on his cock over and over again, your orgasms closer and closer together the longer he went. Flipped you around on your hands and knees, then your stomach, then onto your side, and when you were ready to pass out… the sadistic bastard made you ride him.
You did your best for a good two minutes, until he huffed mockingly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, thought you wanted to go all night long. You’re barely moving. That’s not very nice, after you begged me to give you my cock for so long.”
You got whiny and frustrated at his teasing tone and really did your best but your thighs were already shaky from all those orgasms, you simply couldn’t muster up the strength. Harry kept mocking you, sitting back, hands behind his head “no better than a pillow princess, look at you. You shouldn’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk, baby.”
“Daddy… please… I can’t…”
“I know you can’t. What, you want daddy to do all the work, hm? Nothing but a hole to come into, that’s what you wanna be? Do you think this is what all those Italian women Luciano saw me with year after year did once I brought them back with me for the night? Pfff…”
“Daddy!!!” You cried out. “You’re being cruel…”
“Am I? I haven’t even finished once and you want me to keep going after that, meanwhile you can’t even ride me properly. Silly girl… claimed you wanted me to breed you. Want to be a mother? Gotta be a woman first, learn how to satisfy your man.” He reached over and smacked your bum, which propelled you further, almost dismounting him.
However, the tears that immediately flooded your eyes took you by surprise. This was not the first time Harry had degraded you in bed. You loved it and he knew you did. It was a rare treat, just like him getting rougher with you, which he hadn’t tonight. You usually got off embarrassingly quickly to it, and you knew he’d never say anything with the intention of hurting you.
Harry laughed sardonically but when you pulled back up whatever he’d been gearing up to say got lodged in his throat when he saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, your hands crossing and going to your throat protectively as you straightened up. He immediately pulled out and sat you on his lap, scrambling to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, baby, you know I meant none of that– you know that! We were playing. You usually love it when I degrade you a bit… I’m such a silly man. Should’ve known better than to go there.”
He spoke softly, caressing and petting you all over, rocking the both of you back and forth and shushing you as you still hiccuped your tears against his chest. “I know… I know you didn’t mean it, but… I just… I was already wondering about them since we got here, I’ve been meaning to ask about what yo– what you used to do when you’d come down here, but I was too much of a coward. I– I got really upset just thinking about it. I know it’s silly… and it’s probably what’s been making me so needy, even before I began ovulating… I just can’t stand the thought. And knowing what… I mean– when we were apart… ughh. I just can’t stomach it, Harry. You were entitled to… You were single after all… in all of those instances… but… but, you’re mine, and…”
“I am yours. I’m yours, Y/N. I pushed it too far… I know your legs are all shaky, I made you ride me on purpose just to mess with you a bit,… but I took it too far.” Feeling you calm down ever so slightly, he pulled away and made you look at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and smudging your tears away. “No one, and I mean no one can ever dream of coming close to you. You hear me? Nobody’s made me feel better, ever. You’re all I could ever dream of, you need to know this Y/N. I’ve never been as compatible sexually with anyone the way I am with you. You think anyone else’s made me finish and then keep on going the whole damn night? Not even when I was younger, let alone now. If I’m any good it’s your own merit, you make me want to push myself and do better, be better for you, every damn time. You make me hard just glancing at you. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying it to undo the silly stuff I said earlier, none of which was true. I know how jealous you get, I love it a bit too much when you get like that… and I love mocking you and seeing you get all squirmy and embarrassed– but that’s not how I should’ve done it, I went too far. I didn’t mean any of it, please believe me Y/N. I swear it. You’re all I want. I’m the luckiest bastard. Please believe me, sweetheart.”
“I know… I know it, rationally. But it just… rubbed me the wrong way, even though we were playing and I knew better. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.”
“I do. It’s alright. Let’s forget about it, alright?”
Harry looked heartbroken. You’d not really seen him like this for a while and it pained you, so much so that you wish you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and went with it, since you sincerely did believe none of it was really true.
But you swore you’d be truthful to one another, and especially in the bedroom Harry had insisted so much on you voicing any sort of discomfort regarding anything, no matter how small. You never safe worded, hell, you didn’t have one, because you never needed to; he knew how to read your queues and you’d never had to stop anything before.
This was the first time you’d stopped sex.
Eventually, you took a shower together where Harry doted on you and handled you with utmost care and tenderness. Then took you into the other bedroom where a fresh bed awaited and held you tight into his arms. “I love you so much, Y/N. You mean everything to me. I hate that I made you cry, hate that I made you feel even for a second like what I was saying was true at all. It makes me sick to my stomach…”
“Would you… want to tell me about them? The women you met here?”
Harry sighed profusely. “Darling, there’s nothing to say. Meaningless people that I can’t even recall the name of, if I even knew them to begin with. I remember nothing about any of them. I was trying to heal after the divorce, trying to let loose a bit… tried to have a bit of fun, lord knows I needed to get out of my head. Looking back, it’s almost laughable. I really thought I’d hit rock bottom back them… little did I know, it could be so, so much worse than that.
“But… at the time, I felt miserable. I began travelling like I told you a few years after the divorce and I quickly became enamoured with Italy specifically. I don’t know… I just love this country. The women… were a means to an end, I was never looking for anything serious, and they knew it. I wasn’t leading anyone on. Never met someone I connected with. I told you, I’d never been with anyone serious after my divorce until you. I’d never known sex could be this way til I met you. Sure, I’d discovered my more dominant side a while back, not gonna try and lie and say I’ve not had plenty of experience in that regard. But, sex is just sex, at the end of the day. Some partners were better than others, and when I was here back when I was younger I hadn’t even indulged in most of my kinks and fantasies yet. It was later on that I embraced all of that.
“But trust me when I say, I’ve never clicked with someone sexually like this. I don’t know if it’s because I’d fallen in love with you, at least in the beginning I wasn’t looking for this to get serious, as you know. But we did click from the start, you just… you just fucking do it for me, Y/N. Our bodies just call out to one another. You’re so responsive and you always know just what to do or say to me to make me lose my fucking mind. We’ve been together for so long… or should I say- I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’d say my desire would’ve dampened with time, or that sex would start to become monotonous eventually. I don’t think it’s that way at all. I feel like it just keeps growing somehow. I never get my fill with you. Feel like a fucking teenager with a loveboner dancing around your skirt all day long. You make me feel like that, no one else. Do you believe me, Y/N? Madly in love doesn’t even cut it. I worship you.”
You were lost for words. You’d been looking into eachother’s eyes this whole time and you couldn’t explain how this man had just made you go from crying, jealous, frustrated and feeling less than, to feeling like the luckiest woman to walk the earth. “I do believe you, Harry. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. We’ve played like that before and I always took it well, in fact I love it when you get all condescending and mean and it gets me off embarrassingly quickly usually. I don’t know what it was… maybe you’re right, maybe it hit a little too close to home, but I do know you didn’t mean to. I wish I hadn’t had this reaction, but–”
“No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t try to take the blame in any way. I take full responsibility. I’m just glad you know it wasn’t true… I hope you do, hope you’re not just saying that.”
“I’m not, I swear I’m not. I do believe you. And I love you, too, and needless to say no one has ever compared to you, ever. Maybe I’m not as experienced as you… but I don’t have to be to know I’d have never found a better match than you.”
It was Harry’s turn to get teary eyed as he whispered, “you don’t know how much it means to me… that you didn’t– while we were apart; and I wish… I wish I could take it all back. Had I known I’d ever find you… or that you’d ever want anything to do to me ever again… I’d have never–”
“Shhh. It’s alright, baby. I don’t hold it against you. All of it is my fault– no, don’t interrupt me. It’s the one thing we can’t seem to agree upon. I just want it to be clear, once and for all. Us separating and all the heartache and misery we both went through was my own fault. Not yours. Not Emily’s. No one else’s but mine. I should’ve never left the way I did. That was… an inexcusable betrayal… I did it for what I considered to be the right reasons, lord knows I did it with the best intentions. Never meant to hurt you for one second. I really thought I was doing the right thing, I knew you’d never choose between us.
“So I took the decision for you. Which was a gross overstep. I crossed such a huge line, taking that decision for you, not even discussing it with you, abandoning you. I hurt both of us so much. I was so stupid. So… don’t talk to me about feeling guilty. I know what guilt feels like and it’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You did what you could to keep pushing, to give you at least a semblance of normalcy. I’d never hold it against you, I truly don’t, Harry. So please… don’t paint me into this hero for not having slept with anyone else while we were apart. It would have been torture for me had I done it. As I’m sure it was for you, and that’s why you did it, so you could punish yourself some more. Don’t think I don’t know that. I don’t pretend to understand what you went through fully… but just know I went through hell as well, at my own doing.
“I’m not even asking for your forgiveness. I could never dream of it. I’m so incredibly happy you gave us another chance… No one else would’ve. I still don’t know how you could do it. Still don’t know what I deserved to have you back in my life. So, all of this nonsense about people you’ve fucked in the past and what they were like? That’s so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You love me, and god knows I love you, and that’s all there is to it. Nothing else matters.”
“It fucking tears me apart to hear you speak like that, Y/N. I’d go through it all again if it meant I could take away your own pain. I do forgive you, no matter how unworthy you may feel, you’re worth it to me. So worth it. Fucking love of my life. I’d go through hell and back for you. I’d have never stopped searching for you. Never. My life is barren without you. Nothing matters. Children or no children, married or not- all these things I try and contain myself about and not overwhelm you with… are just me being greedy and wanting more and more of you. I never want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m content just being here with you in my arms and looking into your beautiful eyes. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s more than enough.”
“I know, baby. You’re not pressuring me. I want to make you happy. It’s all I want. That makes me the happiest. I’ll give you everything you want. And not from some place of feeling indebted to you… to make up for all the hurt and suffering I caused. I just want to make it clear, because I know you, and I know you might suspect that of me. No. I meant what I said earlier… I’m not exactly saying we should try for a baby… but maybe we shouldn’t be avoiding it at all costs, either. Let’s see where life takes us. We can handle it, right? We’ve proven as much. Just imagining you with a baby in your arms is getting my ovaries in a knot. Maybe we should listen to what our bodies are trying to tell us.”
Harry rested on his elbow, leaning over you. “You really mean it, baby? You’d want that, truly?”
You nodded slowly and Harry grinned the biggest smile you’d seen on his gorgeous face yet. It dawned on you then and there that he’d been really holding back on how much he truly wanted this. It was enough to erase any shred of doubt from your mind.
He proceeded to pepper your whole entire face in enthusiastic kisses, down your throat and all the way to the insides of your palms. He then pulled your back to his chest and cocooned you in the warmest embrace telling you over and over again how much he loved you and how happy you made him.
And just when you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard him whisper in your ear, “I can’t wait to wife you up… my little love.”
Daddy issues- Masterlist
A/N: it's taken me a long time to get here ❤️ this is the truest version of my babies, good and bad, they're definitely not perfect but their love is ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and for sticking with me along this beautiful journey. i'll keep writing check-ins for them, promise! any prompts are welcomed!
P.S.: 🍭 anon, this was supposed to be your much awaited balcony scene but i got... distracted. don't worry. it's gonna happen... eventually 😅
💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌
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#harry styles smut#dilfrry#harry styles#dilf harry styles#dadrry#daddy harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles prompt#harry styles concept#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles reader insert#daddy issues#harry styles writing#harry styles fic
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🪐 things bf!minho does:
a small blurt about lino!
note: I offer this as a piece offering since I didn't finish my promised work!! I'm trying to get it done, but it's tough with my college and my extra class lining up 😭 not do add that I have a major writing block rn😺 🔫
genre: fluff, boyfriend!minho, a little idol!reader au.
wc: not many, idk.
song choice: flower - johnny stimson
🪐: having the urge to tie anything around your finger
a piece of tissue, a string of grass, a flower's tulip, a stray string... literally anything he can find it's good material to wife you up. this was started by you, actually, getting bored in the waiting room. fidgeting with the tissue wasn't cutting it anymore, and when a long part ripped, you called over to minho, asking him to show you his hand. oh, that bubbling, sparkly, warm pink feeling that erupted inside him when he saw the small knot around his pinky made the tip of his ears turn red. since then, he wants to return the favor to you, tying your finger with anything he has around.
🪐: passing you little notes when no one is looking
being an idol steals a lot from you, a big part being privacy. with eyes on you at all times, even inside your own company, your bf never really gets to compliment you. so, he sticks to cute little notes. he gives you one under your water bottle that you somehow forgot in his practice room, "you're getting better at dance than me." another one when he randomly, very randomly, bumps into you on the hall "you were so cute on your livestream." and one more when you're sitting in the cafeteria with your members, "i can't wait to get home and kiss you." minho being minho, he's gonna jureumify every single note, and as a good gf you are, you pass notes back to him, folding it in shapes of hearts.
🪐: bringing you breakfast in bed
he actually made it a thing to bring you breakfast in bed every Saturday. usually, he makes you coffee, eggs, cuts some of your favorite fruits and brings you yogurt. that's why you're a bit surprised when you see him struggling to open the door with his elbow, a big, long wooden charcuterie board, full of light snacks, occupying his whole arms. you were sitting cozily tangled between the sheets when he sat next to you. "min, when I asked for breakfast in bed, I was expecting some eggs and potentially a coffee, not a whole ass five star boufet." you giggle, "really? because I can take it back if-" "don't you dare."
🪐: biting as a form of love.
you're doing your makeup in the mirror? well, minho will come behind you and pretend to back hug you. when you fall into his illusion of affection, his teeth will sink into your shoulder blade. and hard. hard enough to leave a mark, "min, what the fuck?" or when you're too cute for his liking, he just has to scrape the tip of his teeth against you. that, or you're just sitting together, boredom filling the air, minho just picks up your arm and bites, holding your flesh in his mouth as if he's some type of feline showing its prey. if you do it back to him, he'll short circuit, his ears burning hot.
🪐: communicating through blinks
it always intrigued you how minho's body reacts before his mind can. especially when something unexpected happens, his eyes close rapidly and repeatedly, as you finish telling him the latest gossip from work. or when he comes home and looks a bit more tired then usual, minho blinks two times at you. that's how you found out about the gone-wrong practice. and when you're in a room full of people and somehow, your bright smile and cheerful laugh erupts from the other corner of the room, your boyfriend turns his head in a second, in a search of you. your eyes immediately find his. you looked so ethereal, shining so much, that he couldn't help but slow blink at you, a silly smile on his face. that one means I love you. and you return it in no time.
© httpseiki, all rights reserved. ☕
back to surfing!
#pls forgive me#seiki's blurts🪐#skz x reader#skz scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee know fluff#lee minho fluff#lee know scenarios#lee minho scenarios#lee know imagines#lee minho imagines#lee know soft hours#lee know soft thoughts
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Strip Me Down
Heizou's the hottest stripper at the club
FTM!Heizou x Top!Male Reader
Request
Warnings: Rich Reader, Unsafe Sex, Nipple Play
Words: 1,095
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You walk into the newly opened strip club, hoping to find a hot guy to have a little fun with.
The place was pretty damn gaudy, all bright and sparkly. You were definitely gonna come home with some glitter stuck to you.
Your eyes look to the pole that's occupied by a dark pink haired stripper. He was wearing a pink harness with a similarly colored thong and skin colored nipple pasties.
You sit in front of his area, throwing bills at him. He smirks and stops dancing. He walks off the stage and climbs onto your lap, giving you a lap dance as a thank you.
"How much for a private room?" You ask, trying to stop yourself from kissing him.
"You like me that much?" He smiles and leans over to your ear. "For you, I'll give you a discount. A hundred dollars."
"Sounds good." You bring out two fifty dollar bills and hand them to him. "Lead the way baby."
He gets up and gently pulls you buy the hand, bringing you to one of the private rooms.
It was less, extravagant, than the rest of the building. It had pink lighting and a long black leather couch that wrapped around the room. It was shaped like a U with the opening facing the entrance.
You relax into the surprisingly comfortable couch and pat your lap. Heizou quickly climbs on top.
"How much am I allowed to do?" You ask.
"As much as you want." He winks. "Although some come with extra fees."
"How much to show your nipples?" You trace your finger on the covered buds. He shivers from the feeling.
"Zero dollars." He makes a zero with his hand. You smirk, slowly peeling them off and revealing his pink nipples.
"Like what you see?"
"Love is the correct word." You cup his small tits. "You're so goddamn hot."
"I know." He laughs.
"I like a confident man," You run your hands down his sides. "Especially one that knows what he wants." You grope his ass.
"Is that so? Then," He grabs your wrists and moves your hands back to his chest. "I want a little more attention on my chest."
You rub his nipples with your thumbs. "You're so pretty...do you play with your chest a lot?"
"Yeah..mm~"
"...How much to fuck you?" You stop your hand movements.
Heizou smirks. "I don't know big guy, I'm not sure you can handle me."
"Really? I think I can."
"We'll just have to see." Heizou grins. "I actually don't like to have sex with customers but I'll make an exception for you." He winks.
"Aw, just for me?" You smile. "I'm flattered." You put your hand on the back of his head and bring him into a kiss. He grinds on your crotch, getting wetter and wetter by the second.
You part from the kiss to catch your breath. "Eager, aren't you?"
"I can't say I'm not." He unzips your pants and pulls them and your underwear down. Heizou curses under his breath when he sees your dick.
"I've never taken anything this big before.." He slowly strokes your length.
"And I've never had sex with a stripper, first time for everything, right?"
Heizou laughs. "Right. Do you have a condom?"
"Yep." You reach down into your pocket and bring out your wallet. You take out a condom and hand it to Heizou. "Would you like to do the honors?"
Heizou smirks, putting the end of the condom in his mouth, keeping the inside out. He basically kisses the head of your dick before he moves his head down, putting the condom on with his mouth all while keeping eye contact with you.
He stops half way and moves the rest down with his hand. You were too big to deep throat.
"I kinda wanna see you suck me off now." You look at him lustfully.
"Bleh. I don't wanna do it with the condom on." He sticks his tongue out. "Maybe after."
"Not a fan of latex?" You joke.
He moves his thong to the side. "Not in the slightest." He uses your shoulder to give him balance as he sinks down onto your dick. "Ah.." He moans, enveloping your dick whole.
"I think I'm gonna break-" Heizou rests his head on your shoulder, adjusting to the new feeling.
"Looks like you can't handle me, huh?" You joke, referencing the earlier part of the conversation.
Heizou laughs, rolling his eyes. "I just needed to get used to it. I can handle you just fine."
He kisses you as he slowly starts moving up and down on your dick. Your hands find their way back onto his chest, earning a soft moan from Heizou.
"Like that~" He already feels himself getting close.
"You're so pretty..." You gently play with nipples.
He moans. "Fuck...change- change positions~"
You grab him by the waist and move him onto the couch. You waste no time thrusting into him, his tits occupying your hand and mouth.
"Ooh~! Yes~!" Heizou throws his head back. "Please- please- fuck~ gonna come~!"
You keep up the pace, determined to make him come.
"Fuh~!" He squeezes around you, crying out in pleasure.
You slow down and move your mouth off his chest. "It's too bad I can't feel you with the condom on." You pepper kisses on his neck, making an effort to not make any marks.
"Then take it off."
"Seriously?" Your eyes widen.
"Fuck, yes, I want you to come inside me." He grins. "I'm on birth control."
"Shit. That's all you had to say." You pull out and take the condom off, successfully throwing it in the trash before going back in and pounding him harder than before.
"Fuck." You groan. "You feel so damn good."
"Yes~! Oh gods~!" He wraps his arms around your neck.
You fuck him relentlessly, bringing him to another orgasm.
He arches his back, moaning loudly as he comes.
"I'm close—" You groan, loving the way he clenches around you.
Heizou responds with a string of incoherent words, you can't make out much of what he's saying but you can tell he's enjoying it.
He wraps his legs around you, making sure you don't back out last minute.
"You want me to come in you that bad?"
He pulls the collar of your shirt and kisses you messily. Mid kiss, you finally reach your peak. Heizou makes a happy noise, pussy fluttering around you as he comes again.
"You should quit your job, I need you all to myself."
Heizou nods. "All yours."
#male reader#top male reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin x male reader#wicks🕯works#wicks🕯requests#heizou x reader#shikanoin heizou#heizou x male reader#heizou smut#genshin heizou#bottom heizou#🕯heizou#🕯️heizou#🕯️Genshin
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Seasons - Hanamaki x reader
Summary: You’ve been friends with Hanamaki Takahiro since forever- is that something you really want to change?
CW: friends to lovers, cisfem reader, slight angst with a smutty end uwu, vaginal sex
WC: 6k+
for: @antique-remains - sorry it took so long!
The key to Makki’s place is waiting for you under the loose edge of carpet in the vestibule, just like always.
His apartment is unapologetically lived in. Bits and pieces of his life are strewn across the apartment: sweatshirts and unfolded blankets are tossed over random pieces of furniture, his shoes are kicked off and left in front of the garbage he’s yet to bring downstairs. Down the hall, his unmade bed is proudly on display; the sheets are pulled up in the corners and the comforter left crumpled at the foot of the bed, leaving bits of his threadbare mattress exposed.
It should bother you, the mess that accumulates in the periphery of his life, but the rigidity of a perfectly kept home just wouldn't feel like him-- just wouldn't feel like home.
The scent of apple wafts under the overwhelming scent of extra buttered bagged popcorn; he’s lit the candle you gave him for Christmas last year in an attempt to hide the tinge of burning that clings to the air.
You neatly pull off your shoes and place them in the cubby saved especially for you. The sticker with your name on it is peeling at the corners- you make a mental note to replace it later. Maybe pinky and sparkly, something that the girls he brings home won’t be able to ignore.
Not that you care if Makki has girls over. It’s not like you’re dating.
You just want them to know that you’re special to him-
“Is that you or am I getting robbed again?” a voice calls from the kitchen.
“It’s a robber.” you call out and Makki barks out a laugh at the response, “I’m here to steal your food.”
-Because you are special to Makki, whether he wants to admit it or not.
Friendships are surprisingly fragile; they melt away in due time, like that final frost before spring crawls from her slumber. The change fuels new experiences, pushes us forward. It’s the cycle, it’s the passage of life; we grow and change as people, often in different directions - time passes, we walk away. Sometimes you miss the particular sparkle of someone you no longer know -that elementary school friend whose face you can’t quite remember, the cool touch of a lover- and will never know again. Not in that same way, anyway: snowflakes reform when winter returns, but are never exactly as they were. Time’s arrow never marches backwards, things are never the same as they were.
But Hanamaki is a constant.
Like the last days of summer vacation, he lingers. He stays, he burns. He’s the dog days of August, presence heavy like the air before a storm and yet gentle, like the tinkle of rain that thrummed on the tin roof of your childhood home. He’s bright, he’s warm-
He’s summer.
When you make your way into the kitchen, Makki’s lips split into a wide grin before he even looks your way.
You noticed it years ago, the specific way Makki smiles when he looks at you. Crinkled nose, tongue caught between his canines, eyes practically shut from glee: like he’s looking into the sun.It’s not traditionally pretty or handsome, but something about it -maybe the earnestness about it, maybe the fact it's reserved especially for you- makes your heart jump unfairly high.
That smile has changed over the years, but it still burns as brightly as it did the first time you saw it: the summer he lost his two front teeth and made you pinky swear that you’d be friends forever with sticky fingers stained red from melted popsicles.
“How’s my girl?” he bumps the fridge door open with his hip and pulls out two bottles-- the pricey, five dollars a bottle kind that he only keeps for you, “Ready to watch some crappy television?”
In a practiced move, he brings a bottle across the edge of the corner and slams down, letting the cap fly off and clatter across the floor, sight unseen. Then, he slides it across the marble top with a solid push, gliding through its own condensation. It almost goes in your direction.
Keyword: almost.
It bounces off the bowl of popcorn and wobbles to the side; you barely manage to catch the bottle before it spills over the side of the counter. Makki chuckles to himself with that low, through his teeth hiss, gentle and rhythmic like the cicada’s chant.
“You better pick that cap up- I don’t have shoes on.” you huff, taking a quick sip.
“You don’t have shoes on? In here?” Makki scoffs, heading towards the living room and gesturing for you to follow, “I hope you’ve had your tetanus shots.”
You grab the popcorn before joining him, tossing a couple pieces into your mouth. Makki busies himself looking for the remote in a pile of blankets, tossing them aside and off of the couch until a solid thump tells him he’s thrown it across the room. "Do you even own a vacuum?"
"That'll be my first purchase once I get a job again, I promise." He scrambles to pull the remote from the tangle of fabric. The back of it is secured with duct tape, barely holding the batteries in place.
"I'm telling your mom you live like this.”
Makki shoots straight up in mock anger, but he can’t control how his eyes glimmer with humor.
"Get your ass on the couch already." He stalks towards you, grasping you by the hips and practically throwing you towards the futon. The grip of his hands, the familiar touch that you’ve learned to lean into, is cool from the beer bottle he still holds, and yet the exposed sliver of skin where his fingers graze feels incredibly hot. You stumble over yourself with a giggle, unsure of exactly why your heart is suddenly pounding when you sit.
Makki stretches across the couch after you sit, nestling his head into the crook of its arm and tossing his long legs over your thighs. The laughter bubbling between you builds for a split second as you make eye contact and the signature crinkle of his eye deepens.
“You’re such a hog,” you chide, nudging him over with the heel of your foot, gently at first, then with a solid kick, “You never leave any space for me.”
Makki rolls his eyes, tongue jutting into the side of his cheek to hold down his smile. “Oh please, you look pretty comfy to me.”
“How can I be comfy when you’re so boney? Your knees are cutting me!”
“Oh please, the ladies love that I’m svelte.”
“Svelte?”
“Svelte!”
“What kind of word is svelte?”
“I don’t fucking know the etymology! It’s a word! It came from where words come from!” Makki sits up slightly, “It means long, lean-- sexy.”
He trails his hands down his body like you would imagine a porn star would, even pretending you tweak his own nipples. You smack him at that, choking back a laugh.
“Okay, keep telling yourself that. Dad bods are totally in right now.”
Silence settles between you as he tenses slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. You debate apologizing; Makki is more sensitive than he lets on.
As the game on TV starts to dwindle, he relaxes into you, hand still absentmindedly clutching the hem of your shirt. Usually, he lets you choose the show, but today he juggles the remote and bottle in one hand, clearly not willing to give up his control. Every now and again his jaw tenses against your thigh, holding back words he knows he shouldn’t say.
“What’s-His-Face doesn’t have a dad bod.” he says.
It takes you a beat to understand what he’s talking about.
“Kai.” you correct, “And we broke up last week, so it doesn’t really matter what he looks like.”
“Good.” Makki pushes himself upright by his elbows, “He wasn’t right for you.”
Makki never likes anyone that you date. Ever. He’s always quick with some remarks, always overbearingly close. It used to be endearing, like an older brother watching out for your safety, but the older you grow, the more immature it feels… the more antagonistic it feels.
“Oh yeah? Do you know what’s good for me?” you say.
In high school, he’d chase away anyone who came sniffing around. In college, he’d throw an arm around your waist at parties to ward away the frat boys that came too close.
Now that you’re grown, that kind of friendship isn’t what you want.
You want -you need- what everyone else wants and needs: to be loved.
"Well, duh. I know exactly what your Mr. Right is.” Makki pops the top to his beer and foam threatens to bubble over. He runs his tongue across the lip as he talks, slurring his already distracted spiel as he continues to flip through the stations, “Do you remember that rom-com you were obsessed with in high school? The one with the uh, girl who had a crush on that jock? The movie with that actress-"
"Dude, I don't-"
"The finale had her kissing the other dude, but they couldn't actually kiss 'cause he was smiling too hard. Every time you made me watch that movie you said the same thing-" he pitches his voice higher to mock you, crooning into the lip of his bottle, " 'I wanna be kissed like that. I wanna guy to love me like that.'"
You grind your teeth together. The reminder of what you never had makes your chest ache. Your relationships were never exactly what you wanted, but that’s reality. Growing up is finding out that dreams and hopes mean very little in the grand scheme of things.
"I knew he wasn't right for you because neither of you ever smiled." Makki offers you a half smile, pulling the corner of his mouth up too earnestly-- like he’s happy about your heart break.
He, of all people, should be more sympathetic. His life has been filled with dreams that never took off. His volleyball career ended by early onset arthritis before he could even graduate, college life ended without a degree-
He should know how it burns to watch something you want pull away.
It’s human- the want to be loved. Deep down in your heart, you knew Kai wasn’t right for you, but that desire, that core need, made you hope that you could somehow fit together. You could force a connection if you just tried hard enough-
"He just…” Makki settles on an anime. It’s one of your favorites, but right now you can’t manage to look at the screen. “Never looked happy enough when kissing you. I’m glad you kicked him to the curb."
The laugh track cuts through the room. It’s tinned and much too long to be real, carving a long silence between you too.
You didn’t leave Kai.
He left you.
He was the one who didn’t want to try.
“Can we move on?” you ask, the watery tone of your voice betraying you. Makki's eyes snap from the screen.
“Come on, don’t cry. It’s not like this guy was a prize." Makki scrambles to sit up, pressing his shoulder into yours, "He chewed with his mouth open, remember? You hated that."
Makki smacks his lips together for comedic effect and you grimace.
"He was a prize to me.” You rub your nose on your sleeve as you gather yourself, slipping sideways and away from him, trying to corner your own space in the room. Makki follows, taking back every inch until your hip is pressed into the arm of the chair. “Having someone care about me is a treasure."
"He didn't care about you though, not in the way you deserve."
"I'm getting too old to be picky," you sniffle, "I just want someone to love me."
Makki's hand finds yours and gives it a light squeeze.
"You always have me. I love you."
You just scoff.
“That doesn’t count, Makki.” you say, “I don’t mean friendship love, I mean real, full-ass love. Life long marriage, 2.5 kids love.”
“Yeah, I know,” he squeezes harder, pausing slightly with an open mouth, still considering his next words. There’s the slightest quiver in his hands, something that makes your stomach drop.
Why is there fear in his touch?
Why is there hope?
“I’ve felt like this for a really long time and I just- I love you,” Makki exhales the words, brittle and thin, “I mean, I love you.”
The world inside the apartment pauses. Through the wall you can hear the neighbor's kids stomping around and giggling, caught up in some sort of game, their joy echoing through the room.
The words slip out of his lips so naturally, it's like he's said them a hundred times. He has, over beers and late night snacks, but now it carries more weight. There's no implication of mere friendship or brotherly love; the meaning changes with how he leans on the vowels, warms the tone with confidence, whispers it without a waver in his voice.
“I love you the way you want,” Makki says, “ And I want to love you in the way you deserve, if you’ll let me.”
He loves you and he's sure of it. The hope of it all sparks in his eyes, bright and youthful, the way you always want to be looked at, but never had-
Your heart catches in your chest before it shatters.
"Makki, I-" you pull away, "We're best friends, I can't- That's-"
It takes a long time to gather yourself and pick the correct words from the torrential stream that suddenly clouds your thoughts. While you stammer over the fragments of your mind, Makki watches, his smile losing his soft edges, falling into a plastic facsimile of itself as he realizes what you’re about to say.
Makki is the constant in your life. The one thing that stays the same, the one thing that feels evergreen. Any sort of change risks that.
“We’re best friends.” you repeat firmly.
The hand on yours tightens for a second, then pulls away.
“Ah.” he swallows hard, then clears his throat and pops his lips together. "Shit."
“You’re so great,” you whisper, as if the compliment softens anything, “You mean so much to me, I don’t want to lose what we have.”
“Ah.” he repeats, face screwed into a pucker. His fist bounces against his thigh in a quick rhythm, just hard enough for self flagellation. "Shit."
“”I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.
“No, I-” Makki swallows back the brittle remains of a laugh, “Oh, shit, clearly I saw this going a different way.”
“I’m sorry.”
"No, it's fine, really-" he stands abruptly and paces forward, laughter bubbling out from deep in his chest. He moves his arms as he talks, flinging them side to side in much too wide arches as if he no longer knows what do do with himself, "I misread somethings, I thought, maybe, you know, after all these years, it was- maybe both of us-"
He’s not wrong. You’ve bitten back love for years now, pushed it to the back of your brain and filled the hole want left with men that felt close enough.
“Nothing?” he presses. Sadness doesn't sit naturally in him. It comes out through uncomfortable smiles, leaks out through twitches and tension. “Really? Nothing? I could have- fuck, I could have sworn you’d say yes-”
The apartment's hodgepodge suddenly takes up too much space for both of you and yet your best friend feels farther away than ever. Since puberty he's been tall, looming over most people, but now, with shoulders hunched and head dipped low, he seems small again. A socked foot kicks at the bottle cap from earlier, pushing it back and forth aimlessly as he tries to busy himself.
"I should go." You slink towards the kitchen abruptly.
"Yeah. Yeah, probably." Makki follows you, maintaining more than a healthy distance behind you as he skulks. He moves like a kicked dog, ducking his head and hunching over to make himself smaller. He hasn't been tiny for years, but like this he feels weak-- brittle.
You gather yourself quickly, wasting no time slipping your shoes on and making it to the front door. You move too fast to process your own feelings about the whole thing. Maybe purposefully.
If you don't keep moving, you'll think about how this is all you ever wanted in middle school, how you talked yourself out of this in high school-
Resentment builds in your throat. The past is filled with bitten back feelings and stopping yourself from wandering into unknown territory, all in hope to keep things the same. All in fear of losing what you have.
Why would he risk losing what you have? Does he not value your friendship as much as you do? He’s so willing to risk it-- didn’t he think this through, think about what would have happened if you said no?
Makki just watches as you open the front door. He stands with his hands crammed in his pockets like a guilty child.
“We’re still friends," you state firmly as you step out into the hall. "Friends."
He watches you from the doorway, the orange glow of overhead lighting catching in the wetness that’s collected in his waterline.
“Yeah,” he says, “Friends."
…
The next week is an early cold snap, both inside the walls of your apartment and out. The sunflowers outside your neighbor’s apartment wilt and brown, heavy with a sheet of frost, and you keep checking your phone for a text that isn’t coming.
The week comes and goes.
Then, the next.
And the next.
You continue your life like normal, minus your weekly visits to see Makki. There’s no disruptions from the monotony of your day to day. You go to work, you go home, you do the tiny things that hold your life together… but a tinny hollowness follows you. It eats the parts of you where Makki used to sit, gnaws at you everytime your heart jumps when your phone dings.
(You never had the ringer on before, but now the idea of missing a message makes your brain buzz with a fragile sort of anxiety.)
You almost break. It’d be so easy to run back without figuring yourself out first- so easy to just pretend nothing ever happened. Your whole being wants you to run back to Makki-
-but instead, you find yourself at the doorstep of the next best thing.
“Hey!” When the front door opens, your voice is much too high to be natural, “What’s up, dude? Amigo? I was just in the neighborhood and-”
"You two still aren't talking." Mattsun leans against the door frame, eyebrows cocked as if he’s asked a question, when he’s really stating a fact. He probably knows everything-- maybe more than you do.
If you are -were- Makki’s best friend, Mattsun’s a close second. Volleyball always kept them close, even after high school ended, much to your…
Dismay is too strong a word.
Matsukawa Issei was never too thrilled at your presence, seemingly for no good reason. You two had good times, sure, but you could never shake the feeling there was some sort of resentment bubbling below the surface.
"Is Makki doing okay?" you hold yourself, arms wrapped around your middle.
"What do you think?" he jerks his head towards the inside of the house, "Come in."
Mattsun's home is surprisingly pristine, dotting with little details and colors he certainly didn't pick out himself. Throw pillows on a couch he didn’t want, a still packaged stroller on the kitchen island, professionally framed pictures from his wedding hung down the hall: touches of his wife.
He’s grown because of her- mostly for the better. Sometimes, he’s unrecognizable, turning down hang outs in exchange for a couple’s activity or an ‘early night’-
-other times, like right now, he looks just like himself- perpetually unamused with you.
"So, are you just never going to talk to him again or-?" Mattsun leans against the marble countertop. He rests his head in his hands, eyebrows slightly lifted. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d miss the annoyance in the twitch of his upper lip.
"I'm waiting for things to go back to normal." you shift uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes.
"I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”
You fidget, trying to focus on anything but Mattsun. Carpet, wall, ceiling, fridge, anywhere but towards his cold, judgemental gaze, “Don’t say that. I need him.”
He groans and rubs the bridge of his nose with the heel of his palm, clearly exasperated.
“Can I ask you a question? And you cannot bullshit me on this.”
Mattsun tilts his chin up and you’re suddenly very aware of the height difference between you. “Do you love him?”
“Well-”
“Don’t think about it,” Mattsun says, “Are you in love with Hanamaki Takahiro? Because he’s been in love with you since high school and I can’t fucking stand watching him waste his life chasing someone that doesn’t feel the same way because he’s already wasted so much time on your ass-”
“Yes, okay?” your voice is softer than you want it to be, “Of course I am.”
A beat passes between you.
"You’re my friend and all-” Mattsun huffs, takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes, “-but I could fucking strangle you right now. Why the fuck did you turn him down? Why the fuck have you two been dating other people? Every single fucking day for years, I’ve been listening to him pine over you-”
"I don't want things to change!" you stress, “If we date, we aren’t friends anymore. We’re… something else.
“You’d be dating, idiot. You know, boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“You’re missing the point! What if it goes south?” you gesture wildly, “What if we have some insane break up?”
"Then you break up! It happens!" The hard set of Mattsun’s jaw has relaxed slightly, maybe with pity, "I’m going to be honest, I don’t always get what Makki sees in you-”
“Okay, bitch.”
“Relax, I’m kidding,” he says, “Makki cares about you and you allegedly care about him. Isn’t pursuing that worth the risk?”
“And if I lose him?”
“Don’t you think you’re losing him right now by turning him down?” Mattsun lets out a great breath, then claps your shoulder with more tenderness than you thought he was capable of, “I can’t make any decisions for you, but I really think you’re missing out on something great because you’re afraid of something new. Sometimes the change you don’t want is the change you need.”
You two look just at each other, barely friends in a strangely picturesque kitchen, the conversation settling into your mind. The anxiety that’s been bubbling in your chest for the past couple weeks threatens to flair, but you swallow it back.
“I gotta go.” you turn towards the door, no more confident than you were a couple minutes ago, but now with a direction.
“Hey,” Mattsun calls after you, “You better be going to his house right now!”
…
The key to Makki’s place is waiting for you under the loose edge of carpet in the vestibule, just like always.
The lights are off, despite the early hour. If you didn't know his apartment, you'd need to wait for your eyes to adjust, but you know this place like the back of your hand, navigating through the space easily.
Mattsun’s annoying, but he’s right. You can’t keep letting everything move around you while you cling on to keeping yourself stagnant. You’re not quite sure exactly what you’re doing here. There’s no plan, no big speech- just you, filled with feelings you aren’t sure what to do with, but you know they can’t wait.
And you know things will never be the same.
That thought makes your stomach sink.
Makki might not even be home. You picture him- already moved on, out on a date tonight with some beautiful woman, forgetting about you-
Oh shit, Oh no.
This is a mistake. Anxiety builds in your chest, fluttering and swelling, begging you not to-
"Holy shit."
Makki’s sitting on the couch, legs folded into his chest, backlit by the outside world. The pretty pink hues of his hair are softened by the diffused light, painting his features even softer. Like this, you can’t see his expression-- can’t tell if he’s happy or not. "What are you doing here?"
You don’t know. You really don’t know.
So, you say the only thing that comes to mind.
"I missed you."
In synchrony, you both move towards each other: Makki reaching, you striding across the room. It’s easy to fall into place; he slides his knees down and you crawl into the space they've left behind, pressing yourself into his chest. His arms, surprisingly sure and firm, loop your waist, pulling you in until there’s no space between you and every breath is something shared. The rap of his heart is heavy against your ribs, almost as heavy as your own.
“I don’t like when we’re apart,” you murmur into his shirt.
“Me neither.” He sighs and the tension melts from his body, nestling into you, “I don’t know what to do without you.”
You’ve been this close before. The familiar taste of aftershave, the surprisingly floral scent of his shampoo, the cool feel of his skin against your cheek: it’s all ingrained into your mind, forever present.
Makki pulls away just enough to look at you, managing the weakest smile. “Can we be friends again?”
There’s one thing you’ve never noticed: a slight gap between his canines and his molars. They used to be perfect, back when his braces first came off. Over the years, without his retainer, they’ve moved.
Time brings change, even in the constants.
Your fingers trail the side of his face almost mindlessly. The skin is more textured now than when you were kids, the subtle pitting of acne scars fading across his temples. “I don't know if that's what I want, Takahiro.”
He breathes out steadily, but his heart rate thrums faster. “I- you can’t say my name like that.”
Your forehead rests against his, the humid heat of your breath tangling with his in a slow, labored tempo. “Hiro.”
His eyelashes brush your cheek. “If you say it like that, I’m gonna get my hopes up.”
Your nerves almost fail you. Just as you begin to consider pulling away, he whispers your name back and, in the gentle tranquility of the chaos that is Hanamaki, in the darkness of his apartment, you see what was always there.
When your lips meet, everything finally makes sense.
Sometimes the change you’re afraid of is the change you need.
The plush of his lips are warm as they graze over yours, testing the waters for just a moment before diving back in for more. He moves like it sustains him, like you are the only thing he needs. When your lips part for him, Makki gasps, so sharp that you feel as if he's stealing the breath from your lungs.
Or maybe the breathlessness is from how his hands squeeze your sides, or how he refuses to break away, moving and licking and biting-
A smile rips across his face, followed by his signature bubbling laugh. and your teeth suddenly clink together. You both recoil-
“Shit,” the hand that's found its place on the back of your neck holds you against him as he laughs, the quiver to his voice still thick, "Oh, please don't break my heart."
He dips in again, but doesn't connect.
"I love you, God, I love you." he rambles, holding himself just a moment away, the same fear and trepidation you see in yourself flashing in his eyes, "Please, don't break my heart again, don’t say you don’t feel the same-"
In the breath before your lips meet, you let yourself say it.
"I love you too."
"Oh-" his voice is practically a sob, "Oh, thank god, I thought I lost you, thought I'd never-"
You silence him with another kiss and he scrambles to keep up, kissing and touching every space he can, pulling you in like he couldn't possibly live without your body, like it aches to be without you-
The hunger builds between you much faster than you imagined, the spark of affection boiling into the heat of desire- the inner parts of your thigh, where denim meets denim, where you can feel the beginnings of a hard on pressing into your pubic bone: every touch makes your gut bloom with want. The hem of your own pants digs into you in a way that you can’t stop moving against, combining with all the longing you’ve been fighting for years until you're panting into his mouth.
Makki moves just as passionately, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, then your hip, as he grinds into you.
"Can I?" he breaks away to tug at the hem of your shirt, a smile smeared across his face. It’s that smile, the one reserved for you and only you, bright and vibrant as ever.
"Please."
He takes his time, pushing the fabric up inch by inch, marveling at the unexplored territory. The pads of his fingers are thick yet restrained, barely grazing your stomach and your ribs. By the time he reaches under your bust, pressing into the fat with a tentative touch, goosebumps have spread across your skin, partially from the exposure, partially from anticipation.
“Hiro, come on-” you scoff out a laugh, tugging your own shirt off. He remains frozen as you quickly fumble with the clasp of your bra and discard it onto the pile of blankets next to you.
“Oh my god.” Makki swallows hard as he looks at you, fully exposed for the first time, eyes trailing down your body with a patient hunger. His fingertips trace the space right above your skin, like you’re a work of art he’s afraid to sully. “Oh my god.”
You tuck your fingers under the band of his pants and tug, pulling him impossibly closer, his hips pressing deeper into your thighs, “Are you just gonna look at me all night?”
“How can I not?” The nail of his thumb brushes against a pebbled nipple, earning him the smallest exhale from you, “You’re so fucking pretty, I can’t stand it.”
You take his hand in yours and guide his cool touch to the swell of your chest. “Touch me, Hiro.”
“Oh, fuck--” He practically dives into you, teeth sinking into the fat of your tit less than gently. With a surprised squeal, you kick from the pain, fingernails raking down his back, but it only spurs him on, sending him suckling noisily until your skin warms with bruising. The warm, soft texture of his tongue flicks over your nipple over and over again, trying to pull more and more sounds from you.
His fingers travel down your body, hands coming together at the button of your jeans to easily pop them open.
"I don't wanna seem overeager, but-" Makki plants his feet on the ground and bucks up, the swell of his cock right against where it wants to be, "I want you so bad."
Wordlessly, you take his hand in yours, guiding it down the front of your panties until his long, thick fingers drag through your labia.
"Can you feel how bad I want you too?" You whimper at the tacky sounds he makes as he fumbles for your clit. The angle is awkward, but he still manages to dip his fingers into you, circling slowly, giving your body that delicious relief it’s been craving. He starts soft, tracing lazy circles as she watches you with lust blown eyes.
"Oh, fu-ck, yeah," his voice hiccups with a moan, nudging his nose into yours, "Y-you want me so bad, huh? So wet for me, oh my god- keep fucking my fingers, baby."
You don’t realize you're moving against him until he says that, circling your hips to follow the pressure of his hand, chasing that curling coil that’s building inside you, feeding the fire that’s spreading through your body. Every sound you make, every pant and whine, is mirrored back through him, hummed back into your mouth as he seeks out kisses like he’s starving.
“Oh my god, you are perfect,” he mumbles into your mouth, practically stealing the air from your lungs, “Perfect tits, perfect fucking pussy- I fuckin’- I fucking knew it would be-”
You lean back for a full breath and Makki attacks the newly exposed plane of your neck, licking and suckling aimlessly, painting your skin with his tongue.
“Makki!”
“No, it’s Hiro- only Hiro-” he whines, pressing your clit slower, dwindling his circles to a painfully patient pace, “No more ‘Makki’, baby.”
You grind out a groan in protest, "If you go that slow it's gonna take me all night-"
"I hope it does," Makki says through his teeth. His touch travels lower, tracing through the petals of your pussy until his fingers dip into your entrance, bullying their way inside. The stretch aches for only a moment, replaced with the steady, rough thrum of his fingers curling, looking for the right spot. "I hope you sit on my lap all night, buckin' and whinin' and looking so, so, ruined-"
The flat side of his thumb nudges the raised bud of your clit as he kisses you again, just as heated and desperate and messy as you want it to be. Every now and again, he breaks away, mumbling a quiet ‘good?’ to check in with you. You always nod, a bit frantic, unsure of if the heat in your cheeks is from the stimulation or the embarrassment at the sounds your body makes.
All of it is too much, not enough- you're gasping into him, begging silently for more and less as you teeter on the brink, quivering impossibly close because you can't finish like this, you need more than the back and forth rub-
Oh.
Oh, actually-- you can cum like this.
It hits slowly, yet suddenly- you wake, grabbing for him, then the couch, finally yourself as everything that's coiled inside you finally snaps. You can hear yourself chanting mindlessly yesyesyesyes, but your mind is blank, processing nothing but how his hand never stops, never speeds-
"Oh man, there it is--" Makki grins, teeth pressed into your lower lip, cool and hard. Your cunt clenches against his fingers, thick, bony, perfect-- "Make a mess, there you go."
He doesn’t pull away until you’re boneless against him, forehead against forehead, nothing but the sound of your combined breathing echoing through the familiar silence. The blue tinge of night catches the ridge of his nose, painting his profile as he pulls away to look at you.
“You okay?” he brings his hand to his mouth and scissors his fingers, casually admiring how your cum glistens between them. As he drags his tongue up the length of his digits, the eye contact with you never breaks and despite the tingle of climax fizzling away, your stomach clenches with need.
“Y-yeah-” your voice wavers as your own hands begin to travel down his body, down the soft planes of his chest and stomach, tracing the seams of his jean pockets. “More than fine.”
"We can be done for the night if you’re wiped," Makki offers, even though his cock is straining against the thick fabric. You pop the button of his pants and he laughs, incredulous, "Don't feel pressured or anything, I’m happy just- aa-aah."
He moans openly as you trace over the head of his dick. Through the cotton of his boxers you can feel the slick of precum, thin and plenty, practically weeping from his cock. "Shut up and fuck me.”
You two separate, falling to your own sides of the couch to shed tour remaining scraps of clothing. His cock, red and straight, thick enough to you both dread and want it, glazes his stomach with precum as he beckons you back into his lap. He's adjusted slightly, legs on the cushions and back against an armrest as he welcomes your touch once again.
"I'm not gonna last long." Makki admits. His hands travel your body quicker than they did earlier, dragging your hips closer and closer, settling you over his cock, spreading the lips of your vagina over his length. You’re still sensitive-- sensitive enough that you gasp when a hard ridge catches against your clit. He’s not much better; his eyes slam shut at the contact and reopen unevenly, fluttering as he tries to control himself. "Watching you do all that almost made me cream my jeans."
"Gross."
He snorts, but the warmth never leaves his eyes, dark irises bubbling with the adoration he’s been holding back all these years. "You're gross."
“Apparently I’m not, since I almost made you cream your jeans.”
“Yeah.” The corners of his mouth sink just enough to turn his grin from hungry to affectionate, "You got a point there.”
He cranes his neck to reach you, dotting a quick kiss on your lips as he’s aligning himself with your ready cunt. A hand on your hip guides you down onto him and the tentative press, hesitant and reluctant, has you exhaling. Your messy cunt gives him little resistance and you easily fit together, your thighs spreading for the thick spread of him and the first kiss of his cock inside you.
“Oh, maaan.” Makki can’t seem to close his mouth, whining and hiccuping along with his stuttering hips, squishing your ass into his hips with short, quick strokes. His nails dig into your skin, urging you to bounce along to his rhythm. “Shit, ah, fuck- fuck, fuck- what's this pussy made of--”
You voluntarily clench around him, just to watch how his face contorts with pleasure.
“Feel good?” you say, fucking him harder, until the percussive slap of your hips fills the room, overpowering the steady whir of the overhead fan. You’ve had your fun-- it’s his turn now.
“Are you kidding me-?” Suddenly, his eyes widen, grabbing your shoulders to an attempt to lock you down against him, “Stop that, or else- aw, what the fuck are you doing with your cunt, I’m gonna cum--”
You bounce, despite how his hands squeeze against you in weak protest.
“Want it,” you’re fervent, pressing kiss after kiss into the crook of his neck, hands tangled in his hair for leverage as you bounce bigger, faster, hungrier- “Wanna feel it.”
The warm kick of his cock almost surprises you, each dribble and pulse making your insides impossibly slicker. His pink cheek flush brighter as he comes undone, his depraved sounds crumbling into a fragile chuckle. As he continues to twitch and tense under you, it grows stronger, until he's fully laughing.
“Aw, that was embarrassing-” Makki falls slack, covering his face with his bicep. “I’ve been thinking about that since forever and I came so fast."
You lay upon him, stretched out across his chest, softening cock still inside you. His spend and yours glosses your thighs, sticky and starting to cool, but you can't pull yourself away from his touch.
“Well, you’re just going to have to do better next time.” you coo.
“I'm going to pretend that didn't bruise my ego a little." he says, "Do you need anything? Shower, food, Gatorade?"
"Just a hug."
"That I can do." Together, you both settle, the skinship new and yet so familiar as he wraps his arms around you. The rhythmic inhale and exhale you both share almost has you nodding off, the emotional stress (and physical) leaving you drained.
"For the record, I didn't confess just to fuck you," The low rumble of his voice rouse you just enough to look at his face, still smiling wildly,. "I mean, I was hoping it'd be included in the deal, but it wasn't my top priority.”
"Sex wasn't your top priority? You must really love me."
"Oh, I do." he says it with the same assurance he did the first time. He loves you and he knows it.
“We'll talk.” you state, “About all this. Preferably when we both have pants on."
"Sure, whatever works." he says, “Whatever you what, as long as it’s together.”
Your friendship has always been summer.
Maybe, you think to yourself, it would be nice to let it mature into a colorful autumn. Something different, something new-
But still a season you can call your own.
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Wrote a ficlet inspired by a conversation @ineffabildaddy and I had about Bearded Supreme Archangel Aziraphale. Thank you sooo much Sam for your input and making writing this silly thing extra fun! <3
The second coming has been averted, Heaven and the Metatron have been dealt with and our demon and angel are reunited. Apologies have been made, they're back in the bookshop. Crowley plans to finally take Aziraphale to enjoy a very alcoholic breakfast at the Ritz, but it seems like they might get sidetracked.
“Mrrhm really angel, you’re fixing that again? Looks jus’ fine.” grumbles Crowley. He’s draped on the armchair, watching Aziraphale fussily rearrange his already neat bowtie.
Aziraphale purses his lips. “I am not going to the Ritz looking sloppy, I have standards.”
Crowley chuckles. “What ‘bout that beard and messy hair back in Heaven then? Not the most polished look, wass it?” he teases.
Aziraphale sighs fretfully. “I can’t believe I allowed myself to look so scruffy. Quite unacceptable.”
Crowley’s mind wanders, remembering how shockingly different Aziraphale had looked when he’d become Supreme Archangel. The wild curls, the slightly scruffy beard, the exhaustion so apparent on the face that used to be bright and cheerful, those usually sparkly eyes looking dull and bleary. He feels a stab of sorrow as he remembers. But intermingled with that sorrow are other feelings. The way his heart had raced when he’d imagined running his fingers through those long, untidy curls. The way he’d catch himself wondering how that beard would feel against his skin. He shifted in the armchair, feeling a rush of warmth tug inside him.
“Well angel, it’s not like it was a bad look. In fact, if you ever want to grow it back for a while, that would be…” he waves a hand trying - and failing - to look nonchalant. “…that would be fine… with me”. The last two words come out strained and a tad squeaky.
Aziraphale raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Oh, so you would like me to grow it back?” he says, cheekily.
“Well, mhh, if you want.” he says, breaking eye contact because he suddenly feels like he might explode if he keeps looking at the angel.
Aziraphale walks toward Crowley and leans forward, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, bringing his face close to the demon’s.
His voice drops an octave. “I will, if you tell me that you want it”.
Crowley swallows hard. It’s a good thing he’s seated because he doubts his knees could hold him up right now. “Ngk. Yes, I want it” he rasps, barely managing to choke out the words.
Aziraphale’s mouth slightly quirks upwards. “As you wish, my dear”, his voice still low and commanding. He snaps his fingers and immediately the beard is back, and his hair is longer, messy curls falling on his forehead.
Crowley vaguely realises his hands are tightly clenched into fists. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest. His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes taking in the way the angel’s messy curls fall around his sparkling blue eyes, the way his soft lips look even softer framed by the silvery grey beard.
Aziraphale reaches a hand up to cup the demon’s neck and runs his thumb along his cheekbone. “What else do you want right now, Crowley?” he asks, voice gravelly and seductive.
Crowley feels like he’s caught on fire. He can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone think of anything clever or flirtatious to say. “Ngk. I… you, I want you, angel.”
Aziraphale smiles. He moves even closer, their noses touching. “I think we might need to reschedule the Ritz.” he whispers as he gently pulls Crowley into a slow, indulgent kiss.
#good omens#good omens ficlet#good omens fanfic#ineffable husbands#aziraphale x crowley#aziracrow#supreme archangel aziraphale#bearded aziraphale#aziraphale is a top
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fluff with frat kyle dating a really pretty girl and he gets jealous when guys flirt with her at parties 🤭🤭 thanks bae ily
The Bends
note: i love naming my fics after music i like...i was literally just about to write a jealous!evan fic and this request came in. perfect perfect timing.
warnings: jealous!kyle, fluff,
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Kyle's POV
She was effervescent. She dazzled. Y/N's beauty was electrifying.
I knew from meeting her that I'd have my hands full. Not with her, of course. Instead, with the attention she garnered. She was a bright light that no one could take their eyes off of.
I consider myself so lucky to have her. When I asked her out, I half expected her to laugh in my face. Instead, she replied, 'I never thought you'd ask.' She always said things that would steal my breath and make me delirious. It was dizzying.
I watched her as she danced in her little black dress. Her hair bounced as she moved and the light hit her skin perfectly, keeping my eyes fixated on her.
We were at Tau Kappa Epsilon's spring formal. All fraternities and sororities on campus were invited. I went, naturally bringing Y/N as my plus one. She wasn't involved in Greek life, meaning none of these guys would know her. She was fresh meat to them.
The crowd was suffocating. TKE's house wasn't big enough to hold an event like that. But she still found a way to dance. She was like that. She was a bit of an introvert but with good music and a little something to drink she became the life of the party. Even in a scary situation, like not knowing any of these people, she still shimmered.
I left her to go get us some drinks. We decided to pre-game the party in Y/N's apartment. Arrive drunk and get home relatively sober. That was the plan. But once we got there, she decided she needed something more. I didn't trust the knuckleheads serving the alcohol to not give her something extra in her drink if she went to get it herself.
Instead of rejoining her right away, though, I was pulled away by one of my brothers.
Before I knew it, the wolves descended on her. Clutching both drinks across the room, half listening to Tyler drone on about our frat's probation, I watched as Ethan Davis from Sigma Chi sauntered up to my girl. The dude always thought he was the shit. I grew sick watching him stoop down to speak closely to her ear. She replied with a smile, looking up at him with her sparkly doe eyes. They chatted for a bit too long for my liking, and Y/N was beginning to look very uncomfortable.
As soon as his hand touched her hip, I was off. I placed both drinks in Tyler's hands and bounded through the throngs of people toward my girlfriend.
'Yo Davis! What the fuck, man?' I shouted, rounding on him.
'Hey, hey,' Ethan shouted protectively, throwing his hands up. 'What's good, bro?'
'That's my fucking girl. Lay off,' I said through gritted teeth.
'You can still score even if there's a goalie, Spencer,' he laughed, smirking in a way that made my blood boil. I looked at Y/N, upset evident on her face. I raised my fist and connected it with Ethan's cheek, sending the surrounding crowd into a frenzy.
'It's a fight!' someone screamed.
Ethan swiftly kneed me in my stomach making me double over. Before I could even react, his fist made contact with my eye. Then, he pushed my shoulders with both of his hands, sending me flying into the floor. Frat guys came from all corners of the room to break us up. Ethan's Sigma Chi brothers held him back and mine came rushing to my side.
Y/N darted to me the quickest, though. She and Tyler helped me to my feet, sparing my dignity if only slightly. She took my face in her hands, a look of concern overcoming her.
'Baby! Are you okay?' she gushed. I could only manage a nod. My breath still hadn't returned from the gut punch.
+
We left minutes after that, not before I got a stern talking to from other members of my fraternity about not causing a scene. We were already on thin ice as it was.
We were driven home by Y/N's roommate, who she called as soon as we stepped out into the cool night.
The drive was quick. Y/N fussed over me the whole ride home. I was pretty sure I was concussed. I couldn't manage even a few words back to her the entire way home. Bits of clarity came back to me when we walked in the door. I took off my shoes and headed straight for Y/N's room. After taking off my clothes, I crashed into her bed, face down.
The door swung open not long after.
'Okay, I got you water, Advil, and a snack. Are crackers okay? I can get something sweet if you'd prefer that...' Y/N prattled.
'I'm okay, angel. Just a bruised ego,' I assured her, sounding muffled with my face planted firmly in her pillows.
'Oh, honey, I am so sorry,' she effused, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. I flipped over onto my side so I could look at her. She looked so radiant, even with the apprehension on her face. I sat up and pulled her into me, hugging her tightly. I placed a soft kiss on her head.
'I'll do anything for my girl,' I murmured against her head. 'Guys gotta understand that you're mine. Not theirs.' She moved to look at me, a slight smile on her lips.
'I am yours,' she affirmed.
'He was bothering you, right?' I confirmed. 'I didn't read the situation wrong?'
'Yeah Kyle, he was bothering me. He was complimenting my, and I quote, tight ass,' she rolled her eyes. 'I was glad you stepped in, actually. Sorry you got a black eye out of it.'
'Wait, I did?' I replied, shocked. I touched my left eye and felt a stinging pain. 'I guess I did.'
'Oh, this is all my fault!' she cried, putting her face in her hands.
'No, no,' I pulled her into me again. 'I'll do anything for you, my gorgeous girl. Anything. Helping you is worth a black eye.' She nestled her face into my chest. I breathed in the sweet smell of her hair. I could have lived in that moment forever.
'You're too good to me, Kyle,' she sighed, after a while.
'I promise. Anything for you,' I cooed, pulling up her chin and kissing her sweetly.
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TEEHEE I liked this!!! Thanks for the request. My inbox is open if you'd like anything else! I have a Kit oneshot in the works atm.
#evan peters#evan peters fic#evan peters x female reader#ahs#evan peters oneshot#evan peters x reader#kyle spencer imagine#kyle spencer x y/n#kyle spencer x reader#kyle spencer#ahs coven
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"You refuse to leave so they pick u up and throw u over their shoulder" for percabeth maybe ??
Percy pulled out his phone as he turned onto Bleeker Street.
just got off the train, he texted Piper.
His phone vibrated with a response almost immediately. good. i think yr gfs about to commit a felony.
-oh now she's my gf
-she was always your gf
-except every other day when you call her your gf
-stop texting and walking, pc. you'll run into a lamppost
Percy rolled his eyes, locked his phone, and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He hadn't even known the girls were going out tonight before getting the distress signal from Piper. SOS, she'd said. in need of your strength and percy-ness ASAP, followed by the name of a bar on the Lower East Side. So here Percy was.
The crowds and music mingled in the street, making the chilly November night feel warmer than it was. Percy navigated through the chaos, passing people who seemed all too convinced that the night really was warm--all sparkly rompers and thin t-shirts, likely covered by invisible layers of alcohol--until he recognized the name he was looking for on a chalkboard sign that was folded like an easel out front of a busy bar. The sign also had the words "Ladies Night!" written in bright letters on it, which definitely gave a bit of context to Piper's SOS.
If he hadn't already made sure Annabeth wasn't dying, Percy would be charging though the front doors and into the throngs, demanding to see her. As it was, he pulled his worn leather wallet from his pocket, slid his New York driver's license from its sheath, and calmly showed it to the bouncer.
He really had no idea what situation he was about to walk in to, and clubs like this were already far from his scene, so he figured the extra seconds of steeling himself wouldn't hurt anyone.
Percy was already debating that assessment when he was met, not two steps into the building, by Piper.
"Where have you been?" she demanded. Percy couldn't tell if her volume was directed especially at him or if it was mere functionality. Speakers somewhere were playing a beat so loud, he couldn't even decipher which song it belonged to, just the constant thrumming in his ears and beneath his sneakers.
"I literally just texted you," Percy yelled back.
Piper rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, dragging him further into the bar and dodging people and their wayward drinks with admirable skill.
Eventually, she came to a stop near the back of the room and pulled Percy up beside her. They had emerged into a somehow calmer pocket in the back, and in front of them was a terror in a dark gray crop top and blue jeans, sitting with her arms crossed, on top of the bar.
Oh dear gods, Percy thought. "Annabeth."
She took a break from her stubborn glare to glance over at him. "Percy. What're you doing here?" Her words were slurring together, but she still managed to thread all of her bad mood through them.
Percy looked to Piper, who just shook her head and shrugged haphazardly. "She's been like this for over an hour."
"Annabeth," Percy said again, taking a step toward her.
She stuck her foot out to stop him, and Percy looked down to where her dirty boot was set against his stomach. He muttered, "The shoe? Really?"
"If you're here to take me away, don't even think about it. This is a protest."
"Oh thank God," a gruff voice from behind the counter said. "Please get her out of here."
Annabeth turned and glared at the bartender. "Excuse you. I am right here."
"Believe me, I am very aware," the bartender growled, then continued on to Percy. "I would've already called security, but they have bigger issues to deal with than a girl quietly disrupting the quietest part of the bar. Plus, it seems that kinda fight is exactly what she's looking for."
"I'll get her out of here. Sorry about this," Percy said to the bartender, still not entirely sure what he was apologizing for.
Then he turned to Annabeth. "Sorry about this," he said, quieter, knowing exactly what he was apologizing for.
He tucked his left arm under the leg that was still protruding from his chest and spun it out of the way, catching Annabeth off guard and unbalancing her enough for Percy to lean forward and lift her off the bar like a sack of potatoes.
If she hadn't been intoxicated, Annabeth never would have let him pull that off. But she was, and Percy wasn't going to not take advantage of her slower reflexes in this moment. That didn't stop her from pounding on his back with her fists, though, or yelling profanities at him and Piper and the bartender.
Heads turned as they made their way through the bar. Some turned away with a laugh or an annoyed roll of their eyes, others turned toward the scene they with curiosity or concern. Percy met their glances with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. No nefarious plans here! Promise!
Within a few minutes, Piper was able to guide them out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, which seemed admittedly less bustling in comparison.
When the bouncer spotted Annabeth still draped over Percy's shoulder, still protesting loudly, an amused smile cut across his face. "Have a good night, kids." And with that, they made their way down the block.
"So what exactly happened?" he asked Piper. he felt Annabeth fold her arms against his back, as if in one final harumph of protest.
Piper recounted what she could remember, but that wasn't saying much, considering she was nearly as drunk as Annabeth was and had been flitting around the bar too much to know any details.
The three of them reached the end of the block without another sound or struggle from Annabeth, so Percy figured it should be safe to set her down. Immediately after her feet hit the ground, though, her lips turned down even further than they had before. Her angry grimace seemed to have mostly dissipated into the cold air, but only for it to be replaced by a sad pout.
"Why did you put me down?" she whined.
"Yeah Percy, why did you put her down?" Piper cut in. He wasn't even sure she knew why she was defending Annabeth, just that it was her responsibility to.
Percy rolled his eyes. "What, do you want to be carried all the way back to your apartment?"
Annabeth nodded seriously. There was no use fighting at this point, so Percy spun around and let her climb on his back. When he turned back to Piper, he saw a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"No. Piper, I can't carry you both."
"Weak," she said, before spinning on her heel and stepping out onto the crosswalk.
It was a fifteen minute walk back to the girls' apartment. Piper chattered the whole whole way, recounting her own adventures from the night.
Annabeth didn't bother to chime in, instead keeping her head buried against Percy's neck. He was glad Piper had called him, glad for the excuse to come downtown and make sure his girlfriend got home safe, even if he was going to feel it in his back and shoulders for the next few days.
By the time they reached the apartment, Annabeth was fast asleep.
#sorry for taking so long on this one anon <3 my brain stopped working for a while#percabeth#jules writes#pjo#prompt asks#percy jackson#annabeth chase#piper mclean#pjo fanfic
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"You're safe, I promise." for Ray and any of his many children that may or may not be his?
No one ever told Ray how hard it would be being a single dad.
Especially when one of his kids comes with six extra ones who practically seem to live at his house.
Flynn he's used to, as Julie spent just as much time at the Taylor's house growing up, so he's never surprised to see the girl helping herself to his apples or stashing her secret soda supply there when her mom is on an anti sugar run.
Carrie had been a fixture for some time as well, then the girls had some kind of falling out. Now she seems to be back with a vengeance, a little sharper, a little more stand offish, but still herself in all her sparkly pink glory. He knows she's alone save for the occasional staff more often than not, so he doesn't begrudge her wanting a home full of people as opposed to that big empty mansion.
The boys are new.
They're a motley crew, full of noise and laughter and Ray honestly loves how Julie comes back to life around them. How the house is once more full of music, even if his fridge is a lot emptier and his grocery bill is higher thanks to their constant snacking.
Ray doesn't mind though, not really. Especially not after Julie thanks him for being so kind to her friends, whispering that none of them have great home lives. Ray is more than happy to provide them his home as a safe haven though, be a good dad, or at least caring adult in their lives when they seem to be lacking on those counts.
Luke is pretty open about his fights with his mom, and while Ray can see both sides of it, he does try to be supportive of the band, even offering to film their gigs for their social media. Maybe even mentions he has friends at a few clubs if they ever want him to put their name forward. Luke gives him a genuine smile at that, so Ray figures he's won him over.
Reggie is boisterous and cheery, but Ray can see how he freezes up at loud noises, how he retreats into himself when it's time to go. Ray always tries to be a little warmer and understanding around him after that. Inviting him to stay for supper, to show him how his cameras worked after Reggie showed the barest interest. But he also keeps Victoria informed-she's the best social worker in the area, and Ray hopes he's wrong, but he'd rather have her in Reggie's corner if-and hopefully not when-he needs her.
Willie he can't quite get a read on yet, but he's always respectful and sweet, skating in and out of the garage at will, so Ray likes him enough. He's heard a thing or two about his foster dad Caleb though, and always lets Willie know he's welcome any time, even if the band isn't there. The shocked look that fades into a tiny grin makes it all worth it, in Ray's mind. Even if he wishes the kid would replace his helmet with one that doesn't have that huge crack in it.
Then there's Alex.
Ray knows the Mercers by reputation, as Victoria has friends of friends who go to their church. Society and image obsessed with hate in their hearts and a very literal interpretation of the scripture. He doesn't have a very high opinion.
Especially when he sees how Alex acts around him. Around his friends Alex is sarcastic and silly. Happy enough to whale on his drums with a bright grin or dance around with Willie to the catchiest pop tunes. But when Ray comes in with a tray of drinks or a bowl of snacks, Alex freezes. Immediately lets go of Willie, stands straighter but also closing in on himself, avoiding Ray's eyes.
Then the rumours he's heard about Alex's parents make so much more sense, and it fills Ray with a righteous fury. When Julie came out to him as bi, he openly accepted her-she was his daughter, how could he not? Plus he and Rose had both experimented and landed somewhere in the not straight category, so it would be pretty hypocritical of him if he had shunned Julie for the same.
Thus he wants to find some way to let Alex know that he's accepted here, no matter what.
Of course, subtly had never been in Ray's vocabulary, and the large Pride flag flying in their front yard might be a bit much, but who cares as long as the message goes through right?
The next day, when Ray brings out the snacks, he sees that Alex stiffens in Willie's arms on the couch, but doesn't scramble to get up. He also notes how close Luke and Reggie are to Julie but he leaves worrying about that for another time, when she's ready to tell him exactly how that works.
"Thanks papi," Julie says.
"T-thanks for the flag," Alex pipes up.
"Of course," Ray says with a nod. "Here, no matter what, you're safe, I promise." He turns to go, but turns at the door. "I'm making spaghetti for supper, once homework and band practice are done. You're all free to stay if you want."
There's a course of agreement, and later, when Ray sees them all walk in, is happy to see Alex hand in hand with Willie, no trace of fear or shame in sight.
Sure, being a single dad to all these kids isn't easy-especially when most of them aren't his kids, not really anyways, but the feeling he gets from knowing they are all happy, healthy, safe, and most of all loved here makes it all worth it in Ray's eyes.
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Thousand Word Preview: Tiger Boy and the Witch Girl Ch. 3
This is the first half of the new chapter (the second half will be Rachel and Gar centered), which I will add to my my planned repost of the story, hopefully this week. Please enjoy and thank you all for your patience 🥺
He isn’t falling in love with her, that would be ridiculous.
The first time he had to tell himself that he wasn’t falling in love with her was during the grand reopening. Haly’s had closed for two months to retool the entire operation while building the sort of anticipation that had been all but lost over many years.
As much as he hated to admit it, it was a relief to have a break from the long hours, skimpy yet demanding crowds and utter disappointment. It was nice to go to sleep early, and make fresh decisions whether they would end up paying off or not. And above all, it was nice to see her. As much as she annoyed him, and boy did she ever, he still found himself tapping his foot impatiently whenever she ran a few minutes late, and when she finally did arrive, he’d have to still his lips against turning up in a smile. But the thwarted grin was only because she was done wasting his time, not because he was happy to see her, of course.
Why would he be happy to see someone who gave him such a headache?
He must have told her 1000 times that she wasn’t allowed on the silks, but did she listen? No, because she never listens.
But then, the first time he sees her, her body elegantly wound in lengths of fire red, spiraling down through the air and stopping just short of the looped end, something strikes his chest like a big rubber mallet. It isn’t fear, no, it’s awe. And that’s when he decides, if she blacks out and falls off of the silks, then he’ll catch her. Not because the crowd will love it, but because he can’t let such a magnificent thing fall.
But for weeks and weeks, nothing of the sort happens, nothing happens when she juggles sharp objects or objects set on fire, nothing happens when she’s high up in the sky, dazzling him in her sparkly purple outfit and bright magenta hair.
He watches her like a hawk, for the slightest droop of an eyelid, and he watches until she’s back on the ground and the crowd is roaring in applause.
Business is steadily climbing, the seats are filling out a little more each night, and it’s starting to lift something in him. When he masters the ring he does it with a flair they haven’t seen in ages, a sparkle in those wild eyes of his.
At the end of tonight, he counts their earnings while Kory sits leisurely on the corner of his desk, ignoring the extra chair completely. Her magenta stage wig is off now and her dark red curls tumble over her lithe but strong shoulders, she’s pretty like this, he thinks, but really she’s pretty no matter what.
“This is the most we’ve made all year,” he says, barely believing it himself although he’s counted the stacks three times. It’s enough to make up for the time the circus was closed and then some, it’s enough to take another few weeks off if they want.
“And yet I’m not entirely satisfied,” she says, pinching her chin in contemplation. “I have a proposition for you,” she says.
“A proposition?”
“What do you think about taking our show on the road?” she says. He doesn’t recoil at her calling it their show anymore, maybe he just got used to it, maybe he just gave up, but it doesn’t feel quite so wrong to his ears anymore, besides, it’s true, it is their show. Still, making it a traveling circus has never been something he seriously considered. It’s a huge undertaking, expensive and time draining. There’s a chance of course that they can recoup their losses in the increased ticket sales, but it’s a gamble even bigger than the one she took to earn this place.
“Do you know what that entails?” he says. “The train rental, the extra staff the ad space-
“The thingies and the whatnots?” she cuts in. “Why yes my dear, I know full well, and I think we’re perfectly capable. Think about it, we’re one of the few circuses that never moves, even now with all of our new acts attendance will start to level off, but if we’re in a new town with a brand new audience base then we’ll sell out every show easily and give Gotham a chance to really miss us.”
He’s considered all of this, surely more than she has, and just because she’s proven surprisingly good at running a circus doesn’t mean she’s fully prepared for what she’s suggesting.
“I ran the numbers left right and backwards,” she pushes. “We can do it, I know we can.”
He’s silent at her words, unmoved.
“Anyway, think about it.”
There’s a few more moments of silence before he answers. “I can think about it.”
“Good, oh and by the way, we have an elephant now.”
His eyes go wide and lock on her, trying to gauge whether she’s joking, but of course she’s never joking, every wild thing she’s said to him over the past several months has been 100 percent true.
“We don’t do animal acts, nothing but horses you know that.”
“I do, and I’d never use him in an act. He was about to be euthanized. I couldn’t allow it.”
“Euthanized?”
“By the circus who bought him, he won’t follow directions worth a damn and costs too much to feed.”
“So you thought we could use the extra expense?” he says, getting agitated.
“Use it? No. Handle it? of course.”
He glances again at the stacks of bills on the desk. If he’d fought her more, took her to court, whatever it took to make his Circus his again, would they be there? Would he be this rested and this loose in the chest? He can smell the cash a little, it smells like old books and city grime and possibility. He focuses on her again, pushing his anxiety down and letting out an acquiescing breath.
“What’s its name?” He asks.
#dickkory#dickkory fanfic#tiger boy and the witch girl#dick grayson#kory anders#rachel roth#garfield logan#titans#titans fanfic#queerplatonic garchel
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hi hello its anon from earlier, i just saw your post about a CARLY FIC?? AND IM INTRIGUED???
OMG HELLO MY LOVE
and yes aaaaaaa!! the carly fic!!! it's been my beloved brainworm since november and I've yet to really iron it out SMH!! bc I've been plagued by bingbong simpleton. BUT I DO REALLY LOVE IT sdfjhfdjhjdsf
I made an entire playlist for it dsjhjdfshjsdf mento-eel-ness
I literally mocked up a post in my drafts to BULLY and HARASS myself into finishing it bc I NEED TO ASAP:
^BIG SMH!! but it's like......angst and fluff. exploring the effects of trauma. hurt/comfort, figuring out sexuality. wlw nonsense. carly's out in new york working her internship and goin through it. coffee shop??? romcom?? bullshit???? in NYC??? there are trips to central park and the museum of natural history??? mutual pining??? idk it's a. fic jsdhjdfshjsdfh
these are the ao3 tags FOR WHEN I EVENTUALLY PUBLISH THIS SHIT SJDFHJFDSH
I've posted a couple lil snippets of it here n there if u are so inclined! this one has nick and carly banter and a lil snippet of smut. this one is just a lil excerpt from a very str8 convo
💛here's an extra lil one under the cut:
The man she pictures isn’t who was in the hall last night. Whatever. It might as well have been him.
If she’s being haunted, she wouldn’t put it past this being her specter.
He glances down the hallway, thrumming with manic excitement. The grin on his face distorts his features, twisting his face into something unnatural. There’s something wrong with him and she didn’t see it before. Stupid. This is what he’d always looked like and he’d just been wearing the idea of another person before. He couldn’t keep it on for very long—not around her, at least.
Remember being thirteen?
Family reunion, house full of people. All of her fingers are intact and she’s painted her nails a bright, brilliant blue. Some aunt nudges her mother, smiling.
“She’s gonna drive the boys crazy.” That’s strange to hear at thirteen. It sounds like an insult, but it’s a compliment. A threat, but a good one. You want to make boys go insane, don’t you? That makes you special. Her aunt says those words and paints the target on her forehead with sparkly pink gloss.
He’d been watching them since they showed up at the campsite. Maybe even before that. She scrubs her memory of the diner trying to piece together the faces. Was he there then, bumming a cigarette off of Blake, leaning on the hood of his truck? His eyes on them even then, blowing smoke out in the parking lot. When did he block the road off? If they would’ve stayed in the diner, would that have changed anything?
Dalton with his stupid camcorder, watching her over the fire. He would’ve liked New York. His head snapped off his neck.
Wrong place, wrong time.
#I love this fic a lot jdsjfdshjdfsjh it's currently sitting at 6k and it's definitely gonna be longer lmao#and it's v much a passion project bc the target market?? is literally just me jsdfjhdfsjhdfs#that's my gf ur honor#asks
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If You Hear Any Noise, It Ain't the Boys
Dean comes to Ladies' Night at Jody's, and the ladies put him through the ringer.
Suptober prompt: Ladies
Flufftober prompt: Hot Chocolate
Fictober prompt: "Do we have a deal?"
Inktober prompt: Ponytail
(Read on AO3)
Jody greets him at her door with a kiss on the cheek and a teasing, “We weren't sure you were gonna make it, Winchester!” As soon as he's all the way into the house, the others call out their welcome.
“LLLLLadies,” he drawls with a smirk. Claire shoots him a warning look, and he drops the attitude and comes correct. “I mean, hey everyone. Good to see you.”
“Tha's more like it,” Rowena growls, pulling him into a rough hug and dropping her own wet kiss (and a bright red lipstick print, by the feel of it) on his cheek. “Nary a lady among us, ain't that right?”
There's a general chorus of agreement. Rowena releases him straight into Donna's arms. The blonde gives him a quick squeeze. “Hot chocolate?” she offers. Dean hums and nods an emphatic yes please which sends her bustling to the kitchen, ponytail swishing behind her. “Plain or fancy?” she calls back over her shoulder.
“Uhhh, what's 'fancy' got in it?”
“Rum.”
“Very, very fancy please!”
Several extremely fancy hot chocolates later, it's Dean's turn to pick a face mask from Kaia's extensive stash. He hems and haws, flips through the colorful little packets three times before settling on one with a sparkly unicorn face that promises to purify and soothe. Eileen helps him to apply it, her own lavender-scented calming and toning llama mask already in place.
He leans back in the recliner and closes his eyes, letting the boozy cocoa and the tingle of the mask soothe the last of the everyday tension out of his shoulders and back.
“You still thinkin' sapphire blue?” Claire asks, waiting for his nod before she starts painting the polish onto the nails of his right hand. She's four fingers in and rotating his hand to reach his thumb when she muses, “Nice shade of blue...” in the least convincing “casual” voice Dean's ever heard. “Your favorite color?”
Dean grunts.
Rowena pipes up from behind him, “Lord, that shade of blue reminds me of someone! Now who could it – ah!” He can hear her snap her fingers. “Jody, look, isn't it just the color of that handsome angel's eyes?”
Dean cracks a lid to see Jody coming in hot on his left. She leans across his body to take the bottle from Claire, grabbing firm hold of his left hand as she does. She starts painting the nails on that hand, but Claire doesn't release her iron grip of the other one. Dean attempts to subtly adjust his position in the chair, but they've got his arms and shoulders pinned down good. He can't move an inch.
“Uhh...” he begins. His lips and tongue feel like they're buzzing. It's hard to get them to move right. “Was there something in–”
“In the cocoa, dear?” Rowena finishes for him. “Perhaps a wee taste of a potion, just to make it extra fancy. A little something to help you be truthful,” she purrs. “Claire, I believe you wanted the floor.”
Jody pulls the lever on the recliner, bringing Dean smoothly to an upright position. Somehow, Kaia has taken over the restraint of his right hand. Claire stands directly in front of him, arms crossed, blue eyes blazing.
“So, Dean,” she asks sternly. “How do you feel about Cas?”
“I'm in love with him.” The words tumble out of him, unstoppable. “I've never loved anyone the way I love him. I've loved him for years. He's– ” Claire cuts him off with a gesture.
“Okay Deano, look,” she says, her voice grave. “Cas ain't my dad. He ain't even human. But he's a hell of a good man. Y'know? He deserves to be happy. And I guess maybe you do, too, even though you're an asshole a lot of the time.” She quirks her mouth and cuts her eyes towards Kaia. “Aren't we all, though,” she mutters. “Anyway, you an' him, you make each other really happy. Or you could, at least. One of you just needs to make the first move. And we're tired of waiting for it to happen.”
“So tired,” Jody interjects. Beside her, Donna rolls her eyes and nods.
Claire continues, “So, now that we're all on the same page about your feeeelings for him we're gonna buff your nails and let that mask finish makin' your freckles all pretty, and then you're gonna get in your gas-guzzler and drive home and tell Cas you wanna take him to the prom. You do that, and Eileen won't send Sam any of the pictures she took of you with that sparkly pink unicorn on your face.” Eileen brandishes her phone and grins like a shark. “Plus as a bonus you'll get to spend the rest of your life in utterly disgusting fully requited lurrrrve with your angel. Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah, yes,” Dean replies. Jody and Kaia release his arms, and Eileen pulls him up out of the chair and into a hug. God help him, he's eager to get home. Still, he grouses,“I can't believe you slipped me a magical mickey, though. That wasn't playing fair.”
Rowena's laugh tinkles like a crystal chandelier. “There was nothin' more potent than Captain Morgan in your cups, boyo. Well, we added a drop of cinnamon oil to the last one to make your mouth feel odd. You've been wantin' to spill that particular truth for quite some time. You just needed an excuse. ”
Concluded here..
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chap.4 of my wlw vampire story
I sprint out the door, headphones in ears and in full panic mode. I completely forgot I had the 8:30 shift at Starbucks, arguably the busiest. It doesn’t end till 6:30. I promised to cover Yvonne’s shift because she needed to take a day off. Plus Francesca could use some help. They always cover for everybody. She always said she needs the extra money but I think it’s partly because she cares about us.
I open the door and sprint behind the counter. As I put on the apron on, I realize that I’m wearing last night's clothes. I have no time to change. It would take me a half hour and it's already 8:35.
“Looks like someone finally decided to show up.” Francesca smirks as I get ready to greet customers.
The day was going to be pretty busy. But since it was November it was going to be an absolute pain. The amount of people ordering pumpkin spice latte made me cry. It's not even that good. It’s way too sweet. I prefer a black coffee and if I am held at gunpoint, I might add honey.
I personally don’t even like Starbucks. I prefer more local coffee shops but none were hiring when I needed a job. I still keep an eye just in case. I would gladly drop my job to work at a local coffee shop.
The long shift is tiring but I need to do it. I’m not getting paid overtime but Fran could use some help.
About around 2:30 I finally got a break. Only 15 minutes but still worth it. I put on my music and sit in the backroom.
I spend the time researching guitars. I’m in the market for a new one anyway. The last one died a terrible death two years ago when I still had a band. When I’m playing I get excited. Too excited. I “accidentally” smashed it on stage for the aesthetic. I was going to replace it but I didn’t have the money. The one that got smashed was a fender. Don’t remember what type though. Maybe a player telecaster. What I really wanted was a gibson les paul.
“Your time is up. I’m going to need you to man the front again. Val took off early again, the bastard.” Fran yelled to me.
I put away my phone and headphones. I take a deep breath and head out.
I was pretty much on autopilot till six. I had no idea until one customer showed up. I had no idea they were even here.
Mona was in line. I finished up the order I was taking on to the best of my ability. I hope I don’t seem flustered to them.
“I’ll have a small iced caramel macchiato.” She said, not even looking up from her sketchbook. I wonder if she is a comic book artist. I’d buy all her books.
“Sure, that’ll be four dollars and twenty-five cents. Anything else I can get you?” I ask in my normal voice. I usually have to make this god awful voice so I wouldn’t get complaints from my manager.
Mona looks up at the menu, I assume anyway. Her brow furrows whenever she’s making a decision. It’s really cute of her. I’d love to kiss her bro-N O P E. She is just an acquaintance. Not even a friend yet. You don’t even know her last name. I panicked.
“No, I think that’s all.” She said before making eye contact. When she did finally see me she. . blushed? She couldn’t have been. It must’ve been the lighting or maybe that’s how she wears her makeup. I reassured myself. She is wearing some sparkly makeup right now.
“Oh hi Rosa!” Mona greets me, beaming. God, I melt everytime I see her smile. I would kill to see it everyday. “Have you thought about our offer?”
Fuck. I forgot. “I’m thinking about it. I just don’t want to intrude, ya know.”
“Okay, let me know if anything happens. I’d love to have you stay.”
“You would?” I didn't mean to say that out loud. The way it came out made me seem confused and helpless, which I was, I just didn’t want people to know.
As Mona was about to answer, Fran yelled “Hurry up lovers, I need to close up soon.”
I flushed a bright crimson and nodded. Did we really look like lovers? I wouldn’t mind being Mona’s girlfriend. I would die to be her wif-STOP IT! I reminded myself.
I relay Mona’s order to Fran, who reluctantly sighs. “Is she your girlfriend?” She asks nonchalantly.
If I had a drink, I would spit it out. “You practically melt when you are looking at her.” Fran continued.
“No! I mean, I wouldn’t mind but no! I don’t even know if she’s interested in women.” I frantically reply.
“She’s definitely into women. I mean she has a pansexual flag on her sketchbook. Also she’s ordering an iced coffee in November.”
“That being said, Mona could totally already have a girlfriend. With looks like hers, she could have anyone she ever wanted. Also, it’s really selfish of me to assume she’s in love with me.”
“I mean she looks like she’s related to a raccoon, but ok.” Fran sighs as they hand me Mona’s drink.
I snicker and write her name on the cup. I wrote with a little more care than usual. Even using the skills from the one calligraphy class I took when I was nine. I add a tiny heart at the end of her name because that’s what friends do.
I should probably give her my number. I might already be needing to take her up on the offer. I think to myself.
“Mona!” I announce as I put her cup on the counter. She was the last order of the day.
Then the thought hit me; Where am I going to sleep tonight? I could couch surf but I doubt I should even think about asking that of Francesca. I guess I’ll take up Mona and Lilliane’s offer.
I go to see if Mona is still here. She sits at the chairs closest to the ordering booth. The way the shitty starbucks lighting lit up her face made me want to kiss her. Mona looked like she belonged to the night. Like she was the moon herself. If I was a star, I would try to be the closest to her.
“The offer.” I say, almost hesitating. “I’ll take it up as long as I am helping out around the place.” Mona grinned like she was offered a million dollars. “Like paying rent or making meals. Otherwise I feel like I’m leeching off of you.”
“Of course! Would you like me to help you transfer your stuff to my car?” Mona said as sweet as ever. Oh how I would be looking forward to this everyday.
#sapphic#writers on tumblr#writeblr#women#coffeshop#coffee shop au#they're lesbians harold#oh to have an artist vampire gf who wears glitter makeup#writers#queer writers#queer author#queer vampires#writing#there will be vampires#trust me#that's next chapter
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Event Special for @2-lines-and-a-circle !!
*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･
Hi there! Thank you for participating in my event and requesting this! It was such a unique idea and I loved it! It was definitely a bit challenging, but I had fun writing it. Hope you like it! <3
*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･
You’ve got a letter from…Cater Diamond!
After a long day of classes and swimming, you finally arrive back at your dorm, ready to unwind. But to your surprise, you find a small bag waiting for you in front of your door. There’s a single, bright red rose resting on top, and a cute ribbon tied around the stem. Who could have left it here…?
Bringing the bag inside your room with you, you take look inside. There’s a sparkly looking drink – it sort of resembles a galaxy – a bag of beautifully decorated cookies to match the drink, and an envelope. Hmm, the drinks and cookies look familiar… Oh! That’s right, you saw them trending on Magicam just recently. Seems like Azul’s been making some good money selling them in Mostro Lounge.
Turning your attention onto the envelope, you see your name written on the front. The diamond patterned trim reminds you of a certain somebody. Opening the envelope, you notice that the letter is decorated the same. Pretty.
The contents of the letter read…
Heeeeeey Yumi!
It’s your favorite Cay-Cay here! Great swim race today! I thought I was going to lose to you several times, haha. You’re not mad at me for winning, right? If you are, please accept the snacks I left as an apology. Joking! Well, sort of. I got them since I thought you’d be tired from the race. I know I am! Phew, it was a good work out. Ace is still grumbling about how spent he is. Good thing Coach Vargas wasn’t there, otherwise he’d have all of us swimming extra laps. Gosh, my muscles are aching just thinking about it.
Okay, okay. I know. You’re wondering if I’m seriously writing a letter to you just to talk about the race, right? There’s something else I’ve been wanting to tell you, so I’ll stop beating around the bush.
Yumi, I like you.
I like how creative you are and the enthusiasm you put into your writing. Did you know? Your eyes get this beautiful sparkle in them when you tell me all about the ideas you have. Really, I could listen to you talk about your writing and stuff all day. Your imagination knows no bounds and that’s a wonderful thing.
I like how crazy you can get too. The excitement, the energy. Right up my alley, haha!
And your fangirling? Cute. Totes adorbs! It’s great that you can express your love for things so openly and passionately. And not to mention, we both have things we can fangirl/boy over. That’s double the fun!
I could go on and on, but I think I want to save some things to tell you in person myself. I’ll say this again though:
I really like you, Yumi. Will you please go out with me?
Oh boy. I thought asking you through a letter was going to be easy, but I’m still pretty nervous. Not very cool, huh? Sorry. I was going to tell you all this after the race and make it a super romantic and impressive confession like the ones you’d see on Magicam. I just couldn’t seem to get myself to do it though. Good thing Trey suggested I write you a letter. At least I got most of my feelings for you down.
Don’t feel pressured to give me a reply right away, okay? And even if you don’t feel the same, no biggie! I’ll be happy with us remaining as just friends.
But… Just in case you already have an answer for me, I’ll be waiting in the botanical garden after school tomorrow.
Peace out!
Cay-Cay
P.S. You just enjoy those snacks, ‘kay? I’ll treat you to something even better next time as an apology. We can have a rematch with just the two of us too, if you want!
#100 followers event#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland cater#cater diamond#twisted wonderland matchup#cater
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tsurune
My feelings on this one are a bit mixed. I generally really like the world of Tsurune. Super saturated bright colors, detailed lighting, and even little details like the generally realistic style combined with some characters having odd hair or eye colors, it's a really great aesthetic like you'd expect from KyoAni. As far as animation goes, well for a show where the character art is this detailed it seems impossible for it to move well, but there's plenty of good stuff even if the acting is more on the understated side. I couldn't really bring myself to care too much about the characters, even if I was at first shocked at how well the cute girls design philosophy of KyoAni could create so many cute boys.
The bit of the story I enjoyed the most was the episode focused on Seiya, which I thought had the most interesting direction of any episode, too, though in retrospect the relative suddenness of his crisis is indicative of the show's approach to drama. After that comes the storyline of Masaki in the car crash. I felt it was all a bit silly and kind of lent the last arc of the show this really strange confused tone, and when that transitioned to full-blown infighting and drama I realized how little I care for the way these moments are written. In particular, a lot of the misunderstandings and the reconciliations that follow feel very autopilot and in a way that doesn't even really make sense (why would Kaito think Minato trying to disrespect Masaki, this late in the story? Why would this kind of misunderstanding even happen?) And all that was just leading up to apparently a big breakthrough in the characters' relationships, where they call each other by their first names and point out the fact that they're doing so. There's a lot of stuff like this, where big character moments are usually forecasted in advance in an interesting way, but they bubble up and boil over very suddenly, and aren't allowed to just happen but instead are spelled out with over-baked platitudes that just kind of made me roll my eyes (Seiya: I'm not chasing Minato anymore, I'm walking with him). I guess there's a reason I struggled to remember any character's name.
The real star of this show is the music, which elevates a lot of these very generic YA moments and make them feel much more believable. There's some really sparkly pianos, lush strings, really everything you would want for a show that looks so bright, green, and vivid. Overall the OST lent a certain gravity to the show that I feel it needed. I quite like the OP and ED as well. There's also the bow shots themselves, which are great throughout, in the last few episodes become this tasty little nugget of an audiovisual experience, starting with the tsurune, the quick flight through the air, and then hitting the mark with a sparkly sound effect. I can sort of understand the whole point of this show just from these last few scenes.
Overall, as far as sports anime go I think the actual things I usually come to this genre for are mediocre here, but there are other strengths. Another thing I didn't mention is how gay it can be, which I like too, and it goes farther than the average male sports anime which can already be pretty damn homoerotic. There's a certain...complicity? in the character relationships that adds this extra layer of tension, especially Shu and Minato, where it's very hard to believe they aren't both at least somewhat aware of their feelings for each other, but also Minato and Seiya and even Minato and Masaki to some extent (both of those are one sided, I think, and the latter not that serious). Even if it's the safest KyoAni anime of the 2010s I've seen, the show is very polished and has a coherent aesthetic. I'm truthfully on the fence about season 2. The characters haven't endeared themselves to me, and I don't see anywhere interesting the story can really go now. That said, I did see some clips on Twitter of the bow scenes and….damn it, here we go again.
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Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a scenario where the gn!s/o of Azul, Trey, and Malleus bring in them their favorite foods that gn!s/O made as a surprise after they had a long/stressful day.
Thank you!!
⊹˚︵‿₊˚ʚɞ˚₊‿︵˚⊹
ʚɞ ～ ❝ 𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ❞
╰‧₊˚ trey clover, azul ashengrotto, malleus draconia
after getting involved in a long quarrel between the heartslabyul dorm leader riddle and some students, trey clover gently closed the door to his room and lowly sighed. he took his fedora off and put it on the nightstand before throwing his somehow heavy body onto the bed. all he ever wanted now was to enjoy your presence in his arms as he rested on his bed.
“right, i wonder what (y/n) is doing today.” his eyes scanned his room in search for a particular thing. he grabbed his phone from his desk and scrolled down before his hazel eyes found your number.
it took you less than a minute sharp to take his call as you greeted him, "TREY CLOVER!" you said ethusiastically followed by your melodious laugh.
just by hearing his full name uttered through the other side of the phone was more than enough to make his heart melted like chocolate. "(y/n) honey, are you busy?"
"oh OH. yeah i mean, yes i am busy."
"youre stuttering."
you gasped but quickly covered your mouth. at the corner of your eyes, ace and deuce were so close to making more obvious noise and thats your cue to end the call, "im sorry, trey. i'll get back to you soon."
trey didnt get the chance to answer when the call ended. another heavy sigh left his mouth. why is it so hard for him to leave the dorm to see you?
pain, so much pain was written on his sweaty pale face. his mind blackout and within a few seconds, he passed out.
"trey. wake up, my love."
he really wanted to believe that its your soft hand caressing his cheeks now, he really wanted too. but hes too tired to even blink.
"is that you, (y/n)" a pair of glowing eyes of yours met with his sparkly green iris. he cracked a chuckle, realising that hes now laying with his head on your lap.
"youre finally awake. have some sweets to keep you awake." you showed him a nicely wrapped box filled with bright edible violets covered with sugar.
candied violets, huh?
the green-haired gentleman sat up and accepted the box but put it away immediately, not caring to take a taste as he leaned closer to you with an awfully proud smirk of his. underneath him now, your eyes glued to his. you thought he was unsatisfied or shocked or even upset for ending the call but you felt an arm slithered behind your waist, pulling you close into a tight hug. breathing heavily at your neck, trey clover planted a soft kiss onto your shoulder.
"fuck, (y/n). you make me hit a jackpot again."
mostro lounge was again crowded with regular customers from all over the college that evening, ready to be served. it was quite tiring for the workers, including azul ashengrotto but this is business. he can never get tired with every opportunity he can get. besides, he knew hes too busy with packed schedules and the two of you barely saw each other these days.
“azul, if you wish to see them, quit pondering. youre holding the queue.” jade voice echoed, patting the gray-haired man who has been spacing out since this morning.
he let out a sigh, apologising to the waiting customers and resumed his work. soon, the cafe was closing for the day and while the twins finished up their work at the front, hes busy calculating the profits in the vip room.
never in his life he felt extra exhausted today. did he work too hard? or was it the aircond again? whatever the reasons were, its not an excuse to slack off. he wanted to quickly finish everything up and went straight to see his significant other.
"azul~ shrimpy is here to see you. they said something about breaking up hehe." floyd said friskily as he walked into the room.
"hold your horses, floyd. b-break up? theres no way my beloved flying fish would say that without notic-"
just then, a small figure of someone familiar to him appeared behind floyd's tall body. judging by the way youre avoiding eye contact with him, he sensed guilty too. floyd read the room and quickly exited the room, leaving them behind for some alone time.
"so, about that.."
"i heard it from floyd. you dont have to keep it up if its bothering you, love."
"youre right. i shouldnt have kept it up too long. you never failed to see through me, azul."
azul looked at you and smiled apologetically. he knew how this is going to end. how you will eventually walk away from him. he stood up to sit next to you, not breaking the eye-contact this time.
"(y/n), im really sorry for the past few days of occupied schedules. i know i should've done better as your boyfriend."
you flashed a thin-line smile at him, gently bringing your hand over his to calm him down from being pressed by pressure, "its alright, azul. thats why im here to end things."
you brought out a container which seemed like food and opened it up hastily. he pushed his glasses up, trying his best to keep his suave image the moment he smelled the sweet savory smell of fried chicken. "have some. i know for the past few days we have out ups and downs and i dont think i can keep on trying to make a better fried chicken anymore so, i hope you could enjoy these."
"y-you cooked these? for me?" he asked and you hummed, offering a piece to him as he took a bite from it. the soft tender meat covered and fried with flour, not to mention the endless amount of love you poured in there. it brought tears to his eyes and you reached out to kiss the tears away for him.
"i was scared to see you walk out of this room today for i am too oblivious to keep you. but you make me want to fight for us."
“tell me, lilia. what is this feeling im having?”
“i assume its sadness, malleus. apparently, your child of man is off on an errand for crowley again. sooner or later theyll be back.”
malleus sighed with his lips curved upwards to form a smile. its been exactly 3 days since you left the college with grim, ace and deuce for crowley’s task. hes worried about you ever since the night you bid him a goodbye. he missed you too much and its hurting him.
lilia noticed his behaviour these days. from a very collected malleus, he changed when youre not there with him. if this continues, malleus will eventually isolated himself from everyone.
that evening, malleus went for his daily routine which was to take a stroll near the ramshackle dorm. the lingering laugh of yours, it echoed in his mind like a replaying cassette. he couldnt explained the reasons behind his tiredness. the way he was scolded by not one but two teachers this morning in school. it ruined his mood.
arriving at the front gate, his eyes widen when he saw grim running out of the building before you trailed behind him, somewhat looked like youre chasing grim. the fae was too stunned to speak. all sorts of feeling accumulated in his heart which has been so lonely.
"oh. isnt that tsunotaro? lets go greet him, grim!" you stopped at your track when you caught a glimpse of him standing at the gate. was he waiting for you?
you quickly swung open the front gate and rushed to hug malleus, catching him off guard and almost stumbled down from the impact. oh dear, your giggle. it felt too good to finally hear it again. he hugged you tightly, nuzzling his face at the crook of your neck, taking your sweet scent in.
"i missed you so much, tsunotaro."
"child of man, it was a torture to have you absent from my arms. welcome home, love."
the two of you slowly break the embrace when griim came by while carrying a blue paper bag. you took it and gave it to malleus and he gave you a curious look in return. "its 3 tubes of ice cream. i made it for you when i had leisure time while running the headmage's request."
"ice cream, you say? i must admit, youre still bold up to these days."
your cheeks turned red at his remark, "i dont know what to buy as a souvenir so i decided to make something for you instead. lilia told me you were feeling sad yesterday."
malleus' brows furrowed, forehead formed wrinkles of confusion. he did mention to lilia that hes sad yesterday but it made sense now. lilia has been communicating with you secretly behind him, your boyfriend. oh it made him furious but the way you still think of him at such crucial moment, he let it slide this time.
"what are you waiting for? lets get inside and eat together. tsunotaro?" you linked your arms with his and practically dragging him to walk with you but he stopped his track.
"i never want you to go away from me, ever again. let this be the last time i feel this sadness."
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twsten#twst imagines#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#trey x reader#trey clover#malleus draconia#malleus x reader
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