#Especially if you have it on shuffle mode

[youngeditor1999]

Besties, I finished that nine hour playlist I mentioned in a previous post. :D

It may seem a bit basic, but I promise that every single song on here was intentionally chosen!!

[wilwheaton]

Yesterday’s apparent move to lay the groundwork to pull out of the September 10th debate for the second time was a case in point. It was a classic Donald Trump social media outburst. A wave of vague and nonsensical complaints about bias against him, all leading up to a strong suggestion that he’s pulling out of the ABC debate, rounded out with a “stay tuned.” It’s the old razzmatazz, throwing out a bombshell, putting everyone else back on their heels and then intuiting in the resulting chaos the best way to shuffle the deck for Donald Trump. But in this case, nobody cares. Many factors figured into the burst of momentum Harris got right out of the gate on July 21st. But I don’t think most people have grasped the importance of Trump’s immediate decision to drop out of the already scheduled debate. It showed from him directly that he was unprepared for her elevation and at a minimum worried about facing her in a debate. He basically told on himself. It was a message to her potential supporters, from — paradoxically — the most credible of sources, that she was for real. It was a big deal. Now he’s doing the same thing again. But nobody’s back on their heels. This makes him look weak, like most things have over the last month. Harris isn’t going to beg him to debate. Her campaign is probably as happy with a renewed spectacle of his fear of facing her as it would be with the debate happening itself. He already made a big show of this and caved. Everyone knows he’s got a losing hand in any fight over debates. The “stay tuned” tells the story: the old Trump mode, wait anxiously for my next move. But no one’s waiting. No one’s anxious. Really, he has no next move on the debate front.

Donald’s Fallen Down. So Why Can’t He Get Up?

All of this is true. It feels great to know that he is struggling and sputtering and in a complete panic, on his way to a total narcissistic collapse.

AND YET we can’t take this election for granted. Every single vote will count. Check your registration, especially if you live in a swing state, and make a plan to vote with two friends.

Do something! Let’s win this! We are not going back!

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[ghostbite0]

The horrors have returned D: I hope you get better soon!

Anyway if you're up to it I'd love to hear about the pint sized pillars "kid modes" that they have. It's so cute :( I just want them to have happy childhoods

hi anon! im so sorry i took so long to respond to this ask— this ended up in my drafts with how often i was going back to edit it haha ;u; i had to brainstorm a bit!

in order of eldest to youngest—

gyomei

sweetest soft spoken sensitive teenager ever

he really doesn’t change all that much— he’s definitely less “leadery” and “old” though. he acts like any other kid

very gentle and humble. he gets easily flustered

amane gave him a kiss on the head and gyomei had to excuse himself

sanemi and tengen found him knelt down and trying to hold back tears. he was not expecting such affection since he’s used to always being the caretaker

one day he was deep in kid mode while everyone else was fine. and him being so naturally kind and loving caused several of them to drop down with him

tengen

he’s 10x more silly and playful

however it’s also obvious he has some self confidence issues

tengen doesn’t go kid mode a lot but when he does he gets really embarrassed and upset about being seen like that

he’s like those disney channel cartoons where the little kid thinks someone is really beautiful so he constantly gives them flowers and gifts. thats him with suma, makio, and hinatsuru

“honey you don’t need to do that… we’re all married to you in the future!”

“WE’RE MARRIED?”

when tengen recovers from kid mode he is as red as a tomato while his wives fawn over him and reassure him its okay

kid mode tengen loves playing with the little ones, and rough-housing with sanemi and rengoku

giyuu

ohhhhh he’s a happy little thing. it freaks everyone out at first

very friendly and compassionate, though he mostly keeps to himself

kid mode giyuu is a little more talkative, but only after he comes out of his shell

usually it’s one of the older boys or shinobu who can get him to engage with everyone

if one of the other kids struggles he will awkwardly shuffle over and give them a hug

kid mode giyuu is fairly close with rengoku, kid mode or not

he also really likes being around sanemi and obanai, since they are his age

if all three of them , or if just sanemi and obanai , are in kid mode, they’re a trio of best friends

sanemi

he is so god damn helpful

sanemi is pretty sweet and smiley, and he always leaps at the opportunity to help one of the other kids

kid mode sanemi tends to constantly wander up to kagaya (or whoever is babysitting) and ask what he can do

but every time they just reassure him its ok, and he should go be a kid and play with the other ones

he’s disappointed but then he gets really excited when tengen and rengoku invite him to play and he’s the happiest little thing

kid mode sanemi likes hanging out with the big kids, especially tengen. tengen (and kid mode tengen) think its sweet, and make a point of including him whenever they can

he’s weirded out by genya being older and taller than him but genya makes up for it via piggy back rides

obanai

shy and jittery little thing. he doesn’t drop his guard until a bit into the transformation, even in kid mode

usually the telltale sign of obanai being in kid mode is how small he looks. he curls in on himself and his eyebrows furrow with anxiety

he’s also way more flustered around mitsuri. he has a big crush on her. kid mode mitsuri and mitsuri both find it adorable— though she doesn’t recognize the “crush” aspect. mitsuri just finds obanai very sweet and open

he is also really sensitive. you break a rule in a game? he’s upset. you take someone’s spot? he’s upset. you try to steal food from mitsuri? run

he always needs to be warm … if obanai is the only one in kid mode, you better believe everyone is offering him a warm hug or snuggles

obanai has a hard time choosing who to go to, so then half of them/all of them have a group hug

he whispers a lot. it can be hard to hear him sometimes

when he wants something, he frames it as “kaburamaru wants x” or “kaburamaru says y”

rengoku

think regular rengoku but now a literal child

honestly people cannot tell when he’s in kid mode or not. rengoku is sweet and chaotic no matter what

though kid mode rengoku tends to address everyone in a very polite manner. he calls gyomei “mr. himejima,” despite gyomei telling him he didn’t have to

he does get a little sad when people mention his dad. he will straight up start crying his heart out if he’s reminded of his mom in any way

kid mode rengoku tries to be a big brother to senjuro, and senjuro plays along, but then it cuts to rengoku being fast asleep and senjuro tucking him in, or senjuro having to help his brother get ready for bed

rengoku talks about senjuro whenever he can, kid mode especially. he has no filter at all

he would be a leash kid purely because he has a habit of forgetting small things and getting distracted and wandering off because he saw a cool butterfly and wanted to tell senjuro about it

mitsuri

similar to rengoku she doesn’t change all that much, but she’s even sweeter and more emotional than before

and like rengoku she’s more polite, though she doesn’t really have any problem asking for things or communicating her needs

kid mode mitsuri wanted to rough house too, but the older boys thought she would get hurt. she proceeded to lift sanemi up and hold him above her head

since then she has been invited to play with them every single session

she thinks obanai is super cute and is less filtered about it. same with muichiro, though mitsuri will just walk over and pinch his cheeks or scoop him up into a hug

when they play house, mitsuri is always the mama, and muichiro is always her baby

she and shinobu regularly team up to do the boy’s hair and makeup

shinobu

mischievous little beast

scary smart, but way more obvious about it

this four year old will casually list all the elements on the periodic table then pretend nothing happened , as to intimidate the others

everyone fears her

LOTS of batting her eyelashes and an extended “pleeeeaaaaassssseeee”

she has her rage and can be a grumpy kid. she’s usually well behaved, but if she didn’t get a nap, or if she’s hungry, that’s when she gets more bristly and sensitive

shinobu tends to be more open too. there’s multiple instances where she started getting really sad out of nowhere, and when pulled aside by gyomei, she would start crying about how much she misses her big sister

she and kanao are still extremely close. kanao loves having a little sister, and does her hair and plays dress up with her

she still pesters giyuu. though when giyuu is also in kid mode, the two can usually be found giggling and chatting, and giyuu will give her piggy back rides and what not

muichiro

literally a one year old baby

the sweetest and happiest little baby. he is usually seen smiling and his giggles will fill up the room

he loves being around the others. he especially loves “play time” because he’ll crawl around on the ground and go right up to people

mostly gyomei. he mostly approaches gyomei

but as happy as he is, he cries pretty easily. can’t find his stuffed bunny? cries. cant fall asleep? cries

everyone spoils the hell out of him. they love when he goes baby mode. he is the cutest little thing

lots of idle babbles and muichiro making one-worded sentences that mostly consist of him saying someone’s name or pointing out something

amane and kagaya are extremely paternal to the point baby mode muichiro refers to them as his mama and papa

it breaks everyone’s heart

the baby always wants someone’s attention. even if its as simple as being in their arms. he especially loves being with gyomei

there have been several instances where he noticed obanai wasn’t eating, and would try to feed him his baby food so “obi” could get a full belly

tengen and sanemi started laughing and it resulted in the two getting a face full of mushed up veggies and rice

[techwrecker]

platonic Logan howlett x kid reader where Logan takes the kid under his wing because the reader didn’t have like, parents anymore???

Intentions (Mutations)

Summary: After living on the streets for years, Logan takes it upon himself to make sure you're taken care of after your mutation develops.

Genre: Fluff?, light angst?

Tags: SFW platonic!logan, gn!kid!reader, not really fluff but not really angst, logan goes dad mode again

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Thank you for sending in the ask! I hope you enjoy what I have! This is the longest piece I've written yet. Please keep in mind, that I jumbled the already incoherent timeline a little bit- I hope that's okay! Let me know if there are any grammar/spelling errors please. as always, reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

AO3//Taglist Sign-up

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

The man standing at the mouth of the alley wasn't the usual kind of grungy, scoundrel that you were used to seeing. He was wearing a slick leather jacket over a pristine, white undershirt. His facial hair was well-kept and stylized unlike the scraggly, long beards that most around here men touted. His hair was seemingly done with a little tuft sticking out atop either side of his head. He could have just had bedhead or hat-hair, but they were too pointed to not be intentional. Ever since you were a kid, your intuition had never led you astray.

'''D'jya hear me, kid? I asked what the hell are y'doin' out in the cold all alone for." His voice was rocky and gruff, but it wasn't slurred or subdued by the weight of yellowed alcohol. You were surprised he even spotted you, huddled up against the frozen dumpster in the alley.

"Got nowhere else to go." You shrugged, attempting to retain the illusion of being unconcerned despite the wicked chill seeping beneath your layers. It wouldn't be long until the bite of winter dug its way deep into your body, carving you out and rattling your bones.

Living on the streets alone wasn't easy, especially in the winter. It had been about three years since your parents disappeared. You were yet but a tender 11 years old. At first, it was nice not having anyone around to make you get up early and go to school. But the days turned to weeks. Crying yourself to sleep night after night snuggled in deep between the fluffy pillows and lifeless covers of your parents' bed became your routine.

Eventually, the police came around after negligence reports by the school. You knew if you stayed alone any longer, you'd be taken away by force, sent off to live with strangers. Something in your stomach made it turn, telling you to run away. That bad things would happen if you stuck around. So, you packed up what your tiny frame could carry and struck out on your own, leaving the only home you had ever known.

"C'mere." He beckoned you out of the shadow with one hand and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. "Y'r gonna freeze if you stay out here any longer."

Under normal circumstances, letting strange men call you towards them late at night was a death wish, but there was something deep in your gut that told you it was safe to trust him. Besides, anywhere had to be better than in an odorous alley behind a slimy bar.

You shuffled to your feet, gripping the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders. You were just about to outgrow it. The ragged edge barely touched the tops of your feet anymore. Despite the trusting feeling that had wedged itself in your mind, you kept one eye on the man as you hoisted your grimy backpack onto your shoulder.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, y’know," you said, cautiously getting closer to him.

"Yeah, well, you're also not supposed to be outside when it's 20 below."

You were now within arms reach of him. He lifted his arm out of his pocket, toward you. Instinctually, you flinched, using the backpack as a shield to cover you from any contact he might attempt.

"Relax, 'm not gonna hurt ya." He lifted his hand back in a surrendered position. "Just wanted to carry y'r pack for ya is all."

You peeked back around at him. Gingerly, you slid the backpack off your blanketed arm. You extended it to him, grip still secure on the strap. The man grabbed the other strap, but you didn't let go.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why’re you helping me?"

"'Cause I’mma bleedin' heart for the youth a tha nation, that's why," he retorted sarcastically.

You tugged the pack slightly back towards your chest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Letting go of the strap, he stuffed both hands back into his pockets.

"Listen kid, y' remind me of someone 's all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of." He shrugged.

You stared at him silently, assessing him. Delicate flurries of snow started to fall from the sky. They nestled gently on the tips of his tufts creating a light blanket. The icy fluff reflected in the harsh streetlamp, mimicking a halo. You looked into his eyes. There was a genuine sincerity in them. That trusting feeling was pulling at your conscience again.

“‘Kay… but I’m watching you, old man.”

It wasn’t a joke, but he gave a little chuckle and shook his head, amused. He mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite make out. Something about ‘christ’ and ‘regrets’.

“Whatever y’say, bub. You’re the boss here.” He started walking off down the street, expecting you to follow suit. You shrugged the heavy bag back onto your shoulder and started after him, slightly trailing behind him, just beyond his reach.

“So what’s your name?” You asked.

“Logan,” he said simply, not even bothering to look behind his shoulder.

Logan. It was a surprisingly mundane name. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“Just Logan?” If you were going to let the stranger lead you to an even stranger location, you should at least know his full name to give the police if things went south.

“Yeah. Kid, I don’t got all night. Get a move on.” He sounded annoyed.

But it was his fault you were tagging along in the first place, you thought. Whatever. 

You picked up the pace in a light trot to catch up with him, careful not to slide on the now-slick sidewalk. You were walking side-by-side with him now, but using up twice the effort to stay in step. Logan was tall, taking long strides to get to the unknown destination quickly. 

As you walked, you admired the frosty blanket beginning to layer the frozen city. Pale drifts of snow piling in corners glittered under bright street lamps, reflection shifting with every step. It may have been freezing, but even you had to admit, the untouched, pure snow was beautiful. The street was a silent beauty.

“So who is it?” You probed carefully.

“Hm? Who?”

“The person I remind you of. Who is it?”

“Oh, uh,” he started. “Her name’s Laura.” His voice softened at her name.

“Laura. Pretty. Is she your daughter?” Your intuition prompted you to ask.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. Apparently, he was a man of few words. He let his head hang for a moment, watching his feet drag through the graying slurry. You watched as he inhaled sharply and lifted his head back up, staring straight ahead stoically, not paying you any mind.

The rest of the trip was made in freezing silence. You were still at his side, but slightly out of his arm’s reach. He was still a stranger, after all. It turned out his apartment building was only a few blocks from where you had been hunkered down. 

His keys jangled as he pulled them out of his pocket. The lock clicked open with a solid thunk. Warm, yellow light spilled out from the doorway onto the concrete steps and frozen metal railing. Logan gestured with his arm, prompting you to step in first. You didn’t like it when people stood where you couldn’t see them, but the comforting glow of the apartment was beckoning you in. He stepped through the threshold after you and shook out the snow that had nestled in his tufts of hair. They were starting to droop slightly as the snow melted in the warmth of his home.

He slipped his arms from his jacket and tossed it on a nearby table. You took in the space he called home. It was obvious that he lived here alone, a bachelor. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the plaid couch in the corner of the living room. Much like your blanket, it was becoming threadbare with pieces of stuffing starting to poke out from the arm rests. It was calling your weary, frozen name. You tore your eyes away to put together the rest of the space. A worn-in recliner propped toward a small television set, a coffee table covered in various newspapers, a few amber beer bottles and crushed aluminum cans. The space wasn’t grimy, just a little cluttered.

“Are y’hungry?” He was walking away, further into his home, toward the kitchen. You stood there, unmoving. It had been about three years since you had set foot in a nice, proper home. You were almost brought to tears.

“Yeah. Always.” 

Logan gave you a small smile and began pulling out ingredients.

You walked toward the kitchen, keeping your snow-crusted boots on and still bundled by your blanket and backpack. Though Logan’s home was exceptionally warmer than outside, the chill of the snow had taken root in your chest and had spread its way through your appendages. It would take you a while yet to thaw.

“How d’ya feel about grilled cheese?” The skillet was already warming on the stovetop and Logan had begun spreading butter across the two pieces of bread. Your mouth watered at the sight. The familiar pang of hunger ripped through your stomach. You almost wanted to tell him to nix the stove altogether so you could eat as soon as possible.

“I feel excellent about grilled cheese,” you said instead, gently tugging on one of the chairs at the small dining table. You sat cautiously on the edge of the seat. There were deep scratches gouged across the wooden tabletop. This was not typical wear and tear.

What on earth could have caused that? You wondered. Upon seeing the scratches, your over-active intuition strangely made you feel more at home. Apparently, there was more to this Logan guy than meets the eye.

He peeked at you from his peripheral vision, gauging your reaction to the gouges. You gave him a shrug. 

“Accidents happen,” you said, making yourself sink further back into the chair. You played it off as if the scratches were only a water ring made by an overly condensated glass sans coaster. Overcome with exhaustion and finally warming up, you decided to let yourself relax a little.

He smiled, like you had stumbled upon an inside joke he held only with himself. Though mostly humorous, the smile held a dash of contempt inside it.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Not knowing what else to say, you took in the rest of the apartment. The windows were covered with yellowing slatted blinds, chips and cracks scattered throughout. The checkered linoleum floor probably hadn’t seen a mop for months. You couldn’t judge him too harshly though. In fact, you weren’t in a place to judge him at all. He led you off the street with pure intentions and into a warm home. 

The delicious smell emanating from the stove curled its way to you, tugging at your already-growling stomach. Logan reached into the skillet and flipped the sandwich with his bare hand. It was not a delicate pinch at the corners and he didn’t even wince or make any indication that the sandwich was hot at all. Strange.

“How’d you do that?” Your curiosity got the better of you.

“Magic.”

“Magic isn’t real. C’mon, tell me how you did it,” you begged.

“How ‘bout this,” he started. “Let’s make a deal. You ask a question, I ask a question. A trade off.”

You weighed the pros and cons. If the only exchange for satiating your curiosity was him prying into your own life, you came to the conclusion that it would be worth it.

You realized you were desperate for somebody to want to care about you. All you had known for the past few years was solidarity and seclusion. You had been in a constant state of fight or flight mode ever since running away from your parentless home. You just wanted somebody to want to look after you again.

“Okay, deal.”

“Great. I’ll start.” He set the plated sandwich down in front of you and took the other chair at the table. It creaked as he sat, as if it were straining every splinter to carry his weight. He certainly had a sturdy frame, but he was not by any means a big man. Strange again.

“Thanks,” you finished. It came out flatly, but you were genuinely grateful.

“Y’r welcome, kid.”

Careful so as not to scarf it down too quickly, you held the golden, crispy sandwich delicately between your dirty fingers, pulling it apart. The hot, gooey insides webbed between the pieces. Logan watched you take the first bite, letting you savor the first real meal you’d had in who knows how long before he asked his first question. It was cheesy, savory bliss. You could have cried, it was so tasty. It trailed warmth down your torso as you ate, taking bigger and faster bites. Before you knew it, you were licking your greasy fingers clean.

“Want another?” Logan asked.

“Yes please.” You were still starving. “Does that count as your question?” 

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Does that count as yours?” 

“Guess not.” You smiled back at him, sheepishly.

He took out two more pieces of bread and began on sandwich number two. You could tell he had done this before, taking care of young kids. He had a paternal instinct and it showed. He was slightly standoffish, but not so much that it was completely awkward. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions, you felt he just truly wanted to take care of you.

“‘Alright, bub. Why are y’on the street?”

You knew this question was coming, and yet your heart still skipped a beat, soaked with anxiety.

“I sort of ran away, but it’s not what you think.” You paused, seeing if he would interject. He didn’t make an attempt, so you continued. “I didn’t run away because I wanted to. I ran away because I had to. My parents disappeared and the police started coming around and I didn’t want to-”

“Hold on,” he cut you off. “Your parents disappeared and your bright idea was to run away? That’s probably the stupidest thing you coulda done.”

Embarrassment and annoyance prickled your cheeks. Logan was still a stranger to you, but you felt oddly compelled to defend your actions, to make him see your side.

“Yeah, well it’s better than being an orphan and forced into foster care. Placed with a family who couldn’t care less about you than the dirt on the ground!” You shot back.

The apartment was suddenly more than warm enough. It was almost sweltering. You twisted your shoulder out from under the strap of the backpack and shrugged off the blanket, letting it fall behind you. You felt a little dizzy as your heart pounded, loud against your chest. You were already weak from scraping together food all the time. Burning sweat began to bead against your hairline and coat your palms.

Logan turned his back to you, facing the stove. “Still seems stupid t’me. How long’ve ya been livin’ like this?” His voice was muffled, like cotton balls had been shoved in your ears. 

Suddenly, a chorus of pounding, pulsing sounds arose and started to drown out everything else. It surged to such a volume, you instinctually pressed your hands against your ears in an attempt to dampen it. It did nothing. The noise was inside your head. There was no stopping it. Your vision started to blur and you blinked hard, trying to rid the fuzz and dizziness with no avail. You opened your mouth to yell and felt the muscles in your throat move, but you couldn’t tell if any sound escaped. Your conscience was slipping, but the grip of the noise wouldn’t let you go. It was only getting louder, more painful. 

You must have made some kind of sound because a fuzzy, Logan-shaped form was moving toward you, seemingly in slow motion. You were slipping out of the seat in pain. He caught you in his muscled arms, right before your head hit the ground. He was yelling something at you, but you couldn’t make out what it was. His lips were moving desperately, his eyes frightened.

Logan was the last thing you saw before your mind surrendered to the stress of the noise, finally descending into unconsciousness.

Your eyes tried to open, fluttering against the bright, white lights on the ceiling. It was too bright to open them fully, but you adjusted fairly quickly. The room was made of sleek metal with a circular door on the opposite wall. It wasn’t a hospital, but it had the feeling of one. It was more unfamiliar and eerily quiet aside from a monitor’s steady beeping. The bed you were laying in looked like it came straight out of an exam room. You looked down at yourself. A tube was sticking out of the crook of your elbow, drips of a translucent liquid sliding into your veins.

The pounding noise in your head had ebbed to a dull ache instead of the throbbing pulse it was before. How much time had passed between Logan’s kitchen and now? Where was he? Had he just abandoned you in this strange room by yourself? You felt your heartbeat quicken in anxiety and as it did, the ache grew stronger. There must be a connection between the two. You had so many questions and nobody was around to answer them.

Just as you were about to start freaking out, the round door opened with a swoosh, the panels disappearing into either side of the wall. You sat up, startled. An older bald man in a wheelchair, a smartly-dressed woman with deep red hair, and the slightly-more-familiar Logan came into the room. The pounding noise and your heartbeat slowed back to normal at the sight of him, but three more louder, of sync beats took its place. The noise got louder as they got closer. Wincing, you wanted to cover your ears, to prepare for the worst. You didn’t want to pass out again or have to endure the painful drumming against your head.

“Ah, welcome back to the world of the conscious,” the bald man said, getting closer to you. His physical voice could barely be heard above the noise, but it somehow reverberated in your mind. “You gave our Logan quite a scare. That is a very difficult thing to do.” There was a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

You looked to Logan. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, still in the same outfit you last saw him in. Dark denim, white undershirt, boots. Maybe hardly any time had passed at all.

“Thanks… what happened?” You asked the trio. Your voice was hoarse from sleep. You couldn’t tell how loud, or quiet, you were being.

The woman reached over to the side table and poured a glass of water for you. Her face was beautiful and kind. She smiled sweetly at you. You took the cool glass from her and let the water soothe your throat.

“Your mutation began to manifest and you passed out,” she explained. Her lips were moving, but like the man, her voice echoed in your head, quieting the thrumming in your ears. “We aren’t quite sure what power your mutation will present itself as yet, but whatever it is, we’re here to help you.”

You looked from her to Logan, confused. The slight scowl on his face wasn’t encouraging.

“Where am I?”

“My dear, you are at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is Jean Grey. Logan very wisely brought you here last night,” the man in the wheelchair said. “To our lab.”

Your eyes flickered between the strangers. The familiar feeling crept back into your gut. Your intuition told you he was telling the truth.

“If you’ll let me,” he continued with a soft smile. “I would like to utilize my mutation for your benefit. Jean and I are telepaths. I can enter your mind which might help us deduce what exactly your mutation is.”

No wonder you could hear their voices echoing in your head over the clashing, thrumming rhythms. They were projecting them into your mind.

You must have looked uneasy, because Jean placed a hand on your gown-covered shoulder, attempting to reassure you.

“It doesn’t hurt, but you will feel his presence in your mind. We just want to help you,” she said.

Again, you looked to Logan, anxious for his reassurance. Upon catching your eyes, his expression softened and he nodded slightly, giving you the go-ahead to let them help you.

You fiddled with the top sheet, nervous. It crinkled under your touch. Only hours ago you had been trying to survive the freezing temperatures alone in the dark.

They were all looking at you, expectantly. Without Jean or the Professor in your mind, the volume of the beats returned, still discordant with one another.

“Okay,” you agreed, meekly. You did not want a repeat of what happened last night. The pain was too much to bear again.

You watched the Professor close his eyes. He knit his brows together, slightly, in concentration. There was a mental push in your mind, like somebody was knocking on the door, asking to be let in. You obliged. As he began combing through the files of your brain, searching for answers to whatever your new-found ‘mutation’ might hold, you noticed one of the rhythms sped up a hair quicker. Logan’s scowl returned, eyes laced with concern.

Jean was right, it didn’t hurt, but it did feel a bit like an intrusion. However, you knew it was all for your benefit and would be for the best in the long run. You kept your eyes on Charles Xavier the entire time, hoping your own concentration on him would be helpful in some way. After a few, long, minutes, the Professor retreated from your mind and opened his eyes again.

“Well, my dear, it seems you have a mental ability as well,” he began. “You have the ability to hear heartbeats that are in close proximity to yourself, and in turn deduce the intentions of another person.”

“That’s what the pounding is? Heartbeats?”

“You can hear all three of ours currently, correct?” he asked.

“Yes.” For some reason, it felt like you were violating their privacy. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and your hands returned to folding the sheets between your fingers.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. You’re special. Like us,” Jean said, smiling gently. She grabbed a metal clipboard with complicated-looking charts attached to it, flipping over the pages until she found the form she was looking for. She took the pen from behind her ear and jotted something down. You assumed it was a description of your ‘mutation’, or ‘power’, or whatever they call it.

“Why is this happening to me?” You asked quietly into the air, to nobody in particular. Your eyes were still trained on your nervous fingers. The burning in your face grew stronger, an angry red. Hot tears stung your waterline and the tip of your nose prickled with emotion.

Logan unfolded his arms, causing you to watch him through tear-filled vision cross the room and sit on the edge of your unfamiliar bed. His heartbeat grew louder as he got closer. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was look at the Professor, silently asking for help. You watched him say something to Logan, probably telling him you couldn’t hear anything over the constant noise in your mind. The Professor closed his eyes again and again, the rhythms quieted to a hush. You looked back to Logan, the Professor still concentrating.

“You’re a mutant, kid. Simple as that,” he said, eyes full of tender but resolved concern. “But ‘m gonna take care of ya. Make sure y’r comfortable here.”

“H-here?” Your teary eyes went wide, your own heart speeding up anxiously. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna attend the school here with Jean an’ the Professor an’ me. You’ll learn how’da not let your power control you.”

“You’re a mutant too?”

“Especially him,” Jean cut in.

Logan gave her an irritated look, but raised both fists in front of his face. In a split second, long, metal claws shot out from between his knuckles into the open. You gasped. He carefully brought them down, letting you inspect them. You lightly pressed a delicate finger against the tip of one of the claws. It was freezing cold and razor sharp. A scarlet drop of blood fell from your fingerprint, staining the sterile sheet. He retracted the claws and you watched as the slits quickly stitched themselves back together.

It suddenly all became too much. The tears involuntarily spilled down your pink cheeks, overcome with the developments. Mutations, telepaths, claws … nothing made sense anymore. 

The quiet sobs wracked your small frame and as the emotions overtook you, the thrumming rhythms returned, making it all so much worse. Logan pulled you into his arms in a tight hug, pressing your head to his chest. His loud heartbeat was steady and strong. Reliable and solid. It overpowered everybody else’s rhythms, drowning them out. He let your tears soak through his once-pristine undershirt as you processed everything, his thumbs smoothing circles against your covered shoulder blades. You tried to focus on his grounding touch, tried to bring the tears to a halt. After what felt like an eternity, they finally slowed.

Finally, you pulled away from him. His heartbeat was still the only one you could hear. You looked around the metal room, swiping at your eyes. It was empty except for you and Logan. Jean and the Professor must have left some time ago, but you hadn’t heard their heartbeats soften.

He let go of you completely and picked up the chart Jean had been holding. He quickly scribbled something and flipped it to face you. ‘Feel better?’ he wrote.

You smiled and nodded, almost laughing at his solution to communication.

“Thank you, Logan,” you said. He only smiled in response, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “Now what?”

He held up a finger, asking for a moment, and reached toward the side table. He picked up a device that looked like a small disk, a couple inches thick. Pulling on either side revealed a metal wire that retracted back into the device when the disks were brought together again. The insides of the disks had padding in them. He brought it around behind your head and placed either end over your ears. 

Silence. Quiet. Peace.

You let out a sigh of relief. Logan’s pounding heartbeat was brought down to a manageable pulse. Even the rushing sound of the air conditioner and low hum of the electricity flowing through the lightbulbs couldn’t be heard anymore.

“Better?” He asked. 

You heard him! His voice was no longer fighting to be heard amongst the drum of his heartbeat. It was loud and clear. You burst into a smile.

“Yes,” you said, reaching back across the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck enthusiastically. He almost lost his balance against your grateful hug.

“C’mon, let’s go find Charles. Y’r gonna love it here.”

You let Logan lead you out of the lab and into the unknown for the second time in twenty-four hours. But this time it was different. You now knew that the trusting, gut-feeling you had about him was your mutation sensing his intentions all along. You knew he was going to make sure you were taken care of and continue to do so long into the future. It’s just the kind of man he is. The caregiver, the protector. He’s Logan.

[kaciidubs]

Hii! Omg first of all I love your works! Seconddd I was wondering if I could request fem reader being needy while bangchan is busy working on music so he has her riding his thigh to get off ?

Hello Nonnie!! Thank you so much, I'm glad you've read them! And of course you can! I'm a sucker for this concept so I hope you enjoy~

Work from Home

❣ Summary: On nights like these, you were thankful Chris was able to take his work anywhere he wanted. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.8k ❣ Warnings: Pleasure Dom! Chris, Sub! Reader, daddy kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, a lot of begging, praise, degradation, reader is extremely needy, comfort, allusions to multiple rounds ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, and Slut, a lot of word 'please' being used, Chris calls himself Daddy ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Chris was a busy man, you understood that the same as about 99% of the population who knew of him; he was the leader of seven darling, crazy boys, the leader of the 4th generation of Kpop, a writer, composer, lyricist, computer programmer, amongst the numerous other titles he had hidden in his extensive resume.

Chris was also your boyfriend; silly, kind, obnoxiously good looking, bashful, caring, insanely good at making omelets, hot, great with kids, animal lover, dad joke aficionado, and did you mention drop dead gorgeous?

Especially when he was making music?

It was one of the few nights he opted to bring his work home with him, toting his gray macbook as he shuffled through your shared apartment’s front door, offering you a shy apology as he told you he needed to work on a few more tracks throughout the evening.

Of course you brushed off his needless apology with a smile - even though you liked for him to have a break from work whenever he was home, you ultimately knew there’d be late nights of editing and schedule reviewing that he couldn’t avoid - and told him you had no problem with occupying yourself until it was time for the coveted “which takeout menu are we ordering from tonight” game.

But, damn, did he always look that sexy in that black t-shirt you’d seen time and time again? And did his lips always have that subtle shine to them or did he reapply chapstick in the car - god, did he lick them?

“No problem, baby - I’ll come get you for dinner, ‘kay?” You watched as his previous worry melted into gratefulness, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple before making his way to your shared bedroom.

Maybe, just maybe, his plan of working from home wasn’t the best mode of action - not that it was his fault in the slightest, of course not! 

But you knew how you got at the sight of him working on his music, headphones on so as to not disturb you - even though you were in two completely different rooms - and he knew that you loved watching him in his element, admiration set in those pretty eyes of yours.

Shaking yourself out of whatever horny stupor that decided fog your brain, you confined yourself to doing whatever it took to keep yourself occupied and away from your slightly workaholic boyfriend; tidying up the living room, washing what little dishes were left in the sink, even going so far as attempting the new season of the anime you were neglecting.

An hour.

One hour.

You felt like you were going crazy, your body hot and strung like a freshly crafted bowstring, the first episode of your anime currently on pause as you stared at the slightly ajar door of your bedroom; keen ears picking up the subtle key taps of his laptop.

God, what you wouldn’t give to have those long, pretty fingers of his on you, in you. He was probably focused too, his plump lips set into a pout, his eyebrows slightly pinched as if he were mad at something, but it was simply him trying to keep the hundreds of ideas in his head together.

Throwing your head back in exasperated whine, you quickly came to terms with the options laid before you; A) force yourself to sit through three 35 minute episodes and give him the space he deserves, or B) take matters into your own hands.

Your body must have made up your mind for you as you suddenly found yourself two steps away from the bedroom door, hand reaching out to push the door wider - welcoming yourself to a sight that made your heart and pussy flutter.

Chris was currently propped against the headboard, two pillows used to support his back as he supported his laptop on his thighs- god, his thighs.

There wasn’t a day where you weren’t thinking about them, especially when he was wearing his staple pair of black shorts that not only accentuated the sculpted muscles but highlighted that amazing ass of his - the same shorts he was currently wearing now, in fact.

You were drooling in more ways than one, hungrily staring at the exposed skin as if you’d never been exposed to them before.

“Baby?”

His soft call for you was enough for your heated gaze to meet his gentle eyes, squinted a little from the strain of staring at the screen of his laptop.

“You okay? Wanna figure out what to eat now?”

Shaking your head, you finally willed yourself to walk further into the room, hands going to the waistband of your sleep shorts as you unceremoniously stripped them off - leaving you in a simple pair of cotton panties, definitely not the pair that screamed “take me now”, but that was the least of your concerns.

Chris’ eyes widened, flicking between the discarded shorts, your partially bare lower half, and your face, “Princess? What-”

“I need you.” The whine came desperate from your lips as you crawled onto the foot of the bed.

Chris’ heart clenched, his pulse racing from the sight of you - pupils blown and fogged with lust - sitting on your calves with what he could only describe as pure submission, waiting for his acceptance to your invitation. He wanted you too, there was honestly rarely a moment when he didn’t want you, but he was just at the peak of his creative flow and he didn’t want to treat you to a half assed session in the sheets because his head was elsewhere.

“I… Princess, you know I love you, and I love that you love me, but-” An apologetic frown curved his lips, the coming words making him feel like a terrible boyfriend, “I-I’m so close to finishing this, there isn’t enough time-”

“Channie, please? Fuck, please? Please, please, I’m so turned on it hurts,” you nearly sobbed, your aching pussy throbbing now that his presence was near and so, so close to satiating your craving. “You don’t even have to fuck me - I can just ride you?  You can finger me? Eat me out? I’ll do anything - I- I-” Your tear lined eyes flicked to his thighs, taking in the expanse that his laptop didn’t cover, “-I’ll ride your thigh? Y-You don’t even have to stop working! Just- Just make it stop, daddy, please.”

His face softened, and he wasn’t ignorant to the twitch in his shorts at your proposition; his laptop didn’t take that much room for you to be able to get comfortable on one of his thighs, and even if it did he could just put it at an angle - it wasn’t that big of a deal, not when his girlfriend was in such dire need for relief.

“You wanna ride daddy’s thigh?” A soft grin stretched his lips when you nodded hastily, lips set into a pout. “Okay, princess, come ‘ere.”

Your panties were slid off in record time, left in a puddle at the foot of the bed as you made your way to his lap. It took a few moments of repositioning, Chris tugging up the loose fabric on his right thigh for you to straddle it, hovering over the muscle and practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Look at you,” he cooed as he adjusted the decorative pillow supporting the other half of his laptop, “so fucked out of that pretty brain of yours, yet you still wait for daddy’s permission.” Once he was satisfied with the balance, his warm eyes found yours and he cocked his head to the side, “Gimme a kiss, princess.”

Leaning forward, you happily met his soft lips with your own and - shit, he did reapply that cherry chapstick - a shiver ran down your spine as a moan vibrated in your throat, fingers curling in his shirt in an effort to pull him closer.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk, parting just so your noses and foreheads were still touching.

“Go on, make yourself feel good on me, yeah? I promise I’ll fuck you right when I’m done.”

Sighing a shaky breath, you finally lowered yourself onto the firm muscle of this thigh, choking on a moan from the delicious pressure on your clit, feeding the fire raging in your lower stomach. “F-Fuck- Feels so good, daddy.”

Chris hummed in acknowledgement before bringing his attention to the backing track currently waiting for him - just a few more edits, maybe another sample or two, then he’d be all yours, he promised.

You moved your hips at a testing pace, shivering at the short glide your puddling arousal made on his skin before fully committing to the movement; pressing yourself harder against his leg with the tried and true method; forward, back, forward, back, forward with a little grind, then back again. To keep yourself steady, you held his shoulder with your right hand while your left gripped high on his thigh, fingertips just barely grazing the area of his crotch.

“Daddy.” Your lips parted in a breathy moan, head lolling back as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure.

“Baby, a little quieter, please.”

You didn’t even notice the typing happening beside you, or the subtle shift in Chris’ demeanor until you brought your head back up again, eyes locked in on his illuminated face - and, most importantly, his concentrated pout.

Another wave of arousal flowed from your cunt, making the grind of your hips that much easier as you watched him. “But- Daddy, it feels good, why-”

“Because I’m still working, baby girl,” he didn’t even bother side eyeing you, eyes flitting around the screen in search of another asset, “if you can’t control yourself then you can get off and wait until I’m done.”

Your heart clenched, nails digging into the cotton of his sweatpants as you shook your head, “N-No! No, I’ll be quiet, I’ll be good.”

“Good girl.”

The only sign of good graces he gave you was a subtle flex of his thigh that had you curling forward, nearly knocking your head into his shoulder until you steadied yourself again.

A soft, slow breath fell from your lips before you went back to focusing on the hypnotic forward, back of your hips, rolling them in a way akin to the way you would if you were riding his dick - something you were currently aware of making a tent in his shorts.

‘I promise I’ll fuck you right when I’m done.’

Your hips stuttered, walls clenching helplessly around nothing as you remembered his promise - his guarantee of fucking you until the only thing going through your mind is him.

Choking back a whimper, you rode his thigh with a new fire - shivering breaths escaping you with each subtle tense of his thigh and every odd drag of his skin against your budding clit.

Soon, with the help of your overactive imagination and a few shifts from Chris, you found yourself at the peak of your climax, teetering just on the edge but nothing was quite enough to push you over; your thighs were tense and sore, muscles burning as your poor, neglected pussy begged for something more than the repetitive grinding.

Blinking away the heavy fog of lust blurring your vision, you lifted your head to look at the man in front of you, heart skipping a beat as he looked completely unbothered from the act happening in front of him - if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he wasn’t even interested in you, but the blush taking over his ears and neck were telltale signs he was.

“C-Channie…” Your voice was weak, wavering from your tireless efforts at getting the high you oh so desperately needed.

“A few more minutes, baby, I just need to play it back and-”

“Channie, no, please, I-” Breath hitching, ultimately growing frustrated by his nonchalant attitude, you pressed on, “I can’t, ‘s not enough - please, please, help me?”

His jaw tensed and you knew you struck a nerve, his eyes snapping to yours for the first time since you entered the bedroom.

“It’s not enough? Baby girl,” he tutted, huffing a breath through his nose, “you were the one who came in here whining like a needy little slut, soaking wet without me having to even lay a finger on you - let alone be in the same room - and now what you begged for isn’t enough?”

Despite his scolding, the motions of your hips didn’t falter - if anything, they sped up, grew firmer as you continued to drive for your orgasm.

“Daddy, I-” A small sniffle escaped you, tears from being pent up for the past 30 minutes welling in your eyes and trailing down your cheeks, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! I- I need you - need your touch, need your cock, n-need you to help me, please!”

The speed at which he tossed his laptop to the side should have had you worried about the hard drives taped to the back, but you weren’t - not when he was finally paying attention to you, touching you, indulging in you.

His large hands dripped the plush of your hips, immediately dragging them into a longer, faster pattern that had you keening in his hold; your head tipping back in a loud, unabashed moan.

“Poor princess can’t do anything without her daddy helping, huh? I thought I gave you everything you needed, too.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as if he were voicing his grievances out to himself as he dragged you - nearly bouncing you - against his thigh. “I let you use my thigh like some fucking toy while I worked, I helped you adjust, I helped you get there, but it still wasn’t good enough - not for a spoiled princess like you.”

Chris’ bruising grip slid down to your ass, squeezing the flesh before raising his right hand to land a smack against the swell of the cheek.

A surprised yelp escaped you, your left hand now holding onto his other shoulder for dear life, the heat of his strong stare making your pussy quiver.

“C-Chri- Daddy- Daddy, can I - fuck- I-I need- inside-”

“No.” He licked his lips, fixing you with a domineering gaze, “You’re gonna come using my thigh, and my thigh only, just like you wanted.” You let out a whine of disdain and he raised his eyebrow, poking his cheek with his tongue before cocking his head to the side. “Oh? But, princess, that’s what you wanted - that’s what you came to me for, begged me for, so that’s what I’m giving you, now fucking come like the good little slut you are.”

You gasped, body stilling as his words fell from his mouth and went straight to your cunt, pushing you into the orgasm you’ve been craving for so, so long. “D-Daddy! Daddy! I’m c- ah!”

He guided your hips into a short grind, helping you ride out your orgasm as your cum further coated his dripping thigh - he was sure some of it even trailed around the sides and stained the sheets underneath, but that was a problem he’d handle in a few more hours.

“There you go, that’s my girl - my good girl.” He cooed, eyes trained on your face currently enraptured in bliss, the tension melting from your body with each ragged breath you took. “That’s it, princess.”

Your hips stilled once you finally came down, laying your head against his shoulder with a tired huff and melting further into his body.

“You okay, princess?” Chris hummed softly, arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “Didn’t take it too far, did I? Wasn’t too much?”

You hummed, shaking your head as you turned to lay on your cheek, lips gracing his warm neck, “Nuh uh, daddy, it wasn’t too far - I liked it, ‘m okay.”

“Good.” He brought a hand up to softly massage the back of your neck, essentially cradling you against him.

A few moments passed before you sat up, a little less foggy-headed and more at ease with the handsome man you had the honor to call your boyfriend. “Okay, Channie, you can go back to work - ‘m sorry for distracting you.”

His eyes widened a bit before he looked askance, hands falling to your bare thighs as he cleared his throat, “Ah, well, I… sort of… finished it a few minutes before you asked for my help to get you to come - I was just clicking around to see if you could actually get off just from grinding on me.”

He expected you to lash out at him, for telling a white lie just to see if you could finish without his help, but when he looked back at you all he could see was an all too familiar sparkle in your eyes - the lips he wanted to kiss ever since you came into the bedroom curling into a smile.

“So you… You can make good on your promise?”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief before glancing back at you, a familiar glint in his eyes making you shiver. “Oh, princess, you know I always keep my promises, especially to you.”

[belphies-hands-around-my-throat]

Obey Me Brothers + "Big Bro" Kink [+18]

Happy Valentines! Or not anymore... Well, it's a romance month for me! I have honestly no ideas about any cute scenarios so... me being horny. As you do. This time with the full cast of brothers... Although Belphie kind of... Got special treatment from me... As he does. *cough*

Warnings: Implied incest, duh (but only as roleplay here), dubcon (especially on Asmo and Belphie) but everyone is super into it, verbal manipulation with Belphie + him saying one thing and doing another but also in roleplay. Use of "MC" and "Sib/Sibling".

Author loving Belphie too much aka excessive Belphie content.

Also, just so nobody wastes their time, check the tags for dom/sub dynamics. Satan and Beel aren't there because I feel they don't fall into any here lol.

Lucifer ❤️

You say it teasingly because he's totally in his own "taking care of the family" mode again, while he's trying to do his work, solve your life problems, and help you with homework, all at the same time.

And his reaction?

No.

Not again.

He just sends you a withering look, completely not taking it seriously

You hang out with his brothers, after all, you were probably just messing with him

Privately, it's a bit of a different story

Still doesn't take it seriously but will sigh lovingly instead, messing with your hair

"Yes yes, big brother is going to take care of this."

Cue you blushing like an idiot

Cue him going "💡"

Laughs softly at it. But I mean, honestly, you should have been just honest with your desires.

He's gonna make sure to fulfill them completely now, after all~

Gets "gentle dom" and "service dom" in big brother mode. Really likes to pat your head and give you forehead kisses. Being a big brother means taking care of someone to him after all.

"Oh, like that?"

"Does that feel good?"

"Don't move. You don't have to worry about anything… Your big brother is taking care of you…"

Mammon 💛

You just say it randomly, to tease him.

His reaction is a mix of embarrassment and a kind of strangely pleased reaction.

Because you're family. You said so! - is his first thought

But also embarrassing because gez, it's embarrassing okay!

You will have to lay it thick that it's a kink. 

So you do - springing it on him during sex. A terrible idea, really. But you can turn it into a joke, he won't mind.

"W-What are you saying!" He stutters, he blushes, and huffs about it...

But his reaction... Is not bad. :>

He likes to be the "seduced" big bro. Really subby, "I can't give in to my desires!" type.

Naturally, it will make you bratty as hell, taking advantage.

Handcuffing him into the headboard with a giggle, climbing right into his lap, squirming your butt around, totally on purpose. With your shirt collar hanging open, and you will see his eyes flicker down, him blushing, trying to pretend like he didn't look at all.

"What's with ya, MC? Dumb prank, one Lucifer is enough, ya know? C'mon..."

But you will only grin, tilting your head teasingly.

"But don't you think I'm cute, big bro?"

He will only gulp in response.

Levi 🧡

He asked you to. It was a bad idea.

You were cosplaying a typical cutesy "little sibling", and you asked you to get in character... So you did... A little too well, shuffling your feet as if shy, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes and saying;

"Is this good, big bro?"

Oh no.

Hell no.

Levi snaps a quick photo and promptly runs the fuck away.

Because he popped the biggest boner in his life in promptly 0.3 seconds. Seriously, he almost got dizzy.

You get a "💡"

He's a damn filthy pervert so he likes all types of little sibling treatment from you - from a cold tsundere act, to a cute innocent cinnamon roll, to a teasing brat.

Which, naturally, produces a bit of different flavors from him.

He's probably the biggest, open perv with a tsundere-type lil sibling.

"Tch, stop drooling, it's disgusting." While you sit on his lap as you play video games, and can't stop sniffing your hair, and you can feel his erection pressing into your back, and he wasn't drooling but he sure as hell is now. Pressing himself closer, lifting you up a bit so e can thrust right against your ass, his body shivering.

The innocent act makes him feel like the biggest pervert though.

"Y-You shouldn't touch those places, big bro..." While he quite shamelessly gropes around your chest, his hands trailing through your stomach to massage the inside of your thighs, hips, fingers rubbing right against your front. 

"D-Don't worry... I'm just measuring you... F-For cosplay, y-you know?" He says, flushed to high heavens, not even looking away from your body.

"Oh? Wanna see?~" You ask, grasping onto the hem of your maid dress that was certainly way too short, grinning at Levi, who spent the last fifteen minutes trying to not look at your legs, your revealed thighs... The absolute territory... And now this. "Then get on your knees, big bro~ And beg like a dog~!" You honestly expected more preamble but he looks at your face and just drops. It's a bit too heavy, and he's being a good boy so you decide not to tease him... Too much. Lifting up your maid skirt, high above your waistline, fully revealing your underwear, right in front of his face. "Fufu~~ Big bro is a dirty sibcon~~"

Asmo 🩷

He asked you to. It was a great idea.

Asmo really doesn't get to be the big bro a lot... Not in the official sense, his younger brothers rather mostly rather willing to swallow glass than be his cute little siblings.

So he gets an idea while painting your nails, gently blowing at the nail polish.

"Now you look like part of the family you know. So... How about you thank your new big brother for his hard work, okay hon?~"

He had his ideas before, little to no kinks he didn't want to try but...

When he feels lust waffling from you while you answer... Oooh, this was good.

He brings it up all the time, wanting to be called big brother, or even big sister, as long as it makes you squirm and flush and makes you so so adorable, he could eat you up!

Then one day, he catches you masturbating... And decides to be the right bastard about it. Because you didn't need to, or didn't tell him, so he has a right to tease you a bit!

He gently catches your hands while you stutter, heart beating like crazy with embarrassment, or because he startled you or because you were still so so turned on.

And you don't know what you expected... But he leans into your space, slides his own hand into your underwear, and... Oh.

"Big brother is going to teach you how to do it properly, okay?" He says, expertly playing with you with his delicate dexterous fingers. "Pay attention, silly... Or do you need him to make you feel good, hm? Because it doesn't feel that good when you do it alone?" He giggles. "Big bro is going to make you cum of his fingers everytime, if you only ask... Unless you need more?~"

Satan 💚

He does not hear that a lot... It's kind of amusing.

You say that while you two play with the cats. Because you notice how gentle and protective he is of them. And it just reminds you... So you put on a pair of cat ears, and decide to goof around a bit.

"Such a purrfect cat big brother, Satan. Pet me too, big bro~!" 

He has to cover his face not to laugh, and he sighs but does reach out and runs his fingers through your hair, petting along your neck like you were truly a cute little kitty cat.

He doesn't really expect it but from that day on, he kind of enjoys having a needy cat "little sibling". Makes him more affectionate towards you, and if you had problems asking for affection before, well, this role strangely boosts your bravery.

The turn towards sexual happens accidentally, actually... He just starts cuddling up to you, touches turning more intimate when he notices... You wearing the "cat sibling" headband... He freezes for a moment, his face turning red... And makes a gamble.

"... Do you need big brother's affection here too?" He asks quietly, gently petting lower...

Beel 💙

It starts because talking with him and Belphie, observing their interaction, you decide - he's way more of a proper big brother, than most of his brothers are.

So before asking him for any little favor, you add on a little "big bro", to reference that conversation, turn the phase into your secret praise of his character.

He's... Honestly a bit confused but since he also knows the context, well, he can't say he dislikes it.

It becomes such a natural part of your relationship, it's honestly only a matter of time before it slips out in bed...

And it does.

He's giving you head, and fuck, it's Beel quality head, meaning - he has been sloppily, hungrily sucking and licking you for at least an hour now, with no signs of stopping. You don't know how many times you came already, but somehow you don't even feel too overstimulated yet. Just hot, panting, feeling almost like you were floating, completely lost in his warm, wet, mouth.

"Ah... Feels good, big bro..." You mutter, not even aware of what you're saying... And his gaze snaps to your face, half-lidded eyes, look intense...

And he shudders. Grabs onto your thighs to bring you even closer, make you cum even more-

You're almost completely out of it before he's done... But you make sure to whisper and moan your private little praise for him all through.

Belphie 💜

You kind of call him this one out of the blue. Just realizing that he's the youngest one, that it's probably a foreign concept to him... So you say, half to yourself, half to him, not even respect him to react;

"Big bro Belphie."

And he just stops. And looks.

He did not hear that one for a long time

It takes him completely off guard, but it's not entirely, not really negative... Lilith didn't call him "big bro" a lot but still...

He laughs it off, and proceeds to turn goblin mode to tease you about it.

"Big bro Belphie... Is that what you want to call me now, MC?"

Cue your embarrassed "No!"

He laughs... And proceeds to remember it forever, using it against you when you two are alone.

Seriously, you can be studying in the public library, in a group with Satan and Mammon, and the moment they start doing a ruckus, Belpie will lean in close, just to whisper in your ear;

"Need your big bro to help you with that?~" 

And just smirk smugly, like a cat that got its cream, when they turn around to find you red in the face and speechless.

He really likes you embarrassed like that.

And you just gave him new material.

Really, that was the fuel but you light the match - because he gets whiny, and complains in the mornings so you just say:

"If you want to be a big brother so much, then start acting like it." Grumpily.

Ah, so that's how you two were going to play? 

"Well, big brother missed you in his dreams, so how about you give him a little initiative to get up?"

Aaaand you blush. But do give him a kiss. And then another and another when he asks.

Hm... Interesting.

He starts really liking it when you call him that. He's not sure why but it makes him feel all... Fluffy. And protective.

Then one day you wake up to the feel of his hands creeping up under your shirt slowly, massaging your nipples with a gentle caress before drifting down, along your hips, the elastic of your pajama pants, and...

"Belphie..." You whisper, and he lets out a small noise, pressing himself flush to your body, not letting you turn around, hot breath against the nape of your neck.

"... Big bro was having really dirty dreams about you, MC." He says, his voice slightly shaky, and he expects you to get annoyed to tell him to stop... But you don't. You freeze, and get red in the face, and he can feel your legs squeezing together. It makes him huff a quiet laugh in response. "So just let him touch you a bit, okay? Not gonna do more, promise..."

He will mutter and fuck, the hotness down in your belly is so intense you already feel like panting.

So you... You play along. With high, whining voice, both embarrassed and strangely... Tiltilated.

"Y-You can't touch me like this, it's not right..."

You can feel him shiver in response, his hips sifting almost against his will, pressing his erection into your thighs...

"Shh, it's okay... Big bro is just making himself feel good. You feel good too, right? Then rhere's nothing wrong about this..."

You put on the whining protests all the way through, despite your hips eagerly pressing back into him, body arching into his touch.

And he keeps with his reassurances, promising he won't do more, just let him touch you a bit... Just give him a kiss, and he will be satisfied. No, a proper one, be a good little sibling, and open your mouth...

He will just take off your pants okay? Just the pants? So you two can touch more, it's more comfortable anyway...

All the way until he's sliding into you, and your eyes roll back, and you swear you almost cum on the spot, body shaking, and reaching back to grasp onto his body, to pull him closer, unable to say anything, letting out quiet panting sobs of pleasure.

"It's gonna be our little secret, okay sib? It's okay, it's okay, we're just feeling good together... I'm gonna pull out, there's nothing to worry about..."

He doesn't, making sure to press himself all the way inside as he fills you up, warmth spreading inside, making you tremble...

You kind of... Fully come around after that.

[starshineswirl]

Adashi as parents

Adam loves to think of himself as the strict parent

mainly cause shiro’s more emotional and can’t say no to keith once he thinks abt keith’s childhood :(

Keith: shiro can i have ice cream before dinner?

Shiro: oh…sure, I don’t see why not —

Adam: takaSHI NO

Also Adam’s the only adult who can cook a halfway decent meal so he claims he gets all the credit for keeping keith alive

But deep down he’s a big softie for keith too

the first time they take keith to the zoo he mentions that he likes hippos

and adam buys him the biggest hippo plushie in the gift store

Shiro: he doesn’t need —

Adam: let him have it!

Shiro’s more blatantly protective of Keith too

and is very hesitant to let Keith go out by himself especially at night

Adam is more lenient (or he’s just better at hiding his worry/anxiety)

Shiro also goes into Protective Dad mode whenever boys are brought up

Shiro: you can date when you’re thirty

Keith: you met Adam when you were 16!

Shiro: you’re not me

which leads to teenage Keith shyly shuffling into the kitchen while Adam’s making dinner and muttering abt a cute blue-eyed vibrant boy at school

And Adam listening seriously and giving good advice while secretly his heart is exploding and he can’t wait to rub it in Takashi’s face

cause they both compete to see who Keith comes to for stuff

and Adam tends to win

this post got away from me lmaooo

[lesbianpepsi]

Hi can you write about taking care of Sam when she sick and just fluff

hello honey, of course i can write a lil sick fic, especially if it's for Sam

I adore you, can't you see you're meant for me?

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!reader

Request: Taking care of Sam whiles she's sick

Words: 1.863k

Warnings: sam having the cold? bad writing

—————————————————————

"I can't come over, I'm sick." Sam grumbled through the phone along with a few coughs.

You giggled at her words. "Boo, you whore." You replied thinking Sam was only trying to quote the iconic line from the iconic film, Mean Girls.

More harsh coughs were heard through the phone which slightly alarmed you since- no offence to your girlfriend- she wasn't the best at acting.

"What? Why are you calling me a whore?" Your eyes widened as you noticed Sam was in fact not quoting Mean Girls. "Wait, you're actually sick?"

"Why else would I say I'm sick?" The nasally sounding Carpenter sister questioned sounding confused.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry, Sam. I thought you were- you know what never mind. I'm coming over now." You said briskly as you put the call on speaker mode, rushing to put your converses on.

"You don't have to come over, it's fine." Sam said to which you shook your head at, as if she could see you. "I'll be over in ten." You told her as you finished tying your shoes, running over to grab your phone, wallet and keys before walking out of the door.

"You live thirty minutes away."

"I'll be there in ten."

—————————————————————

You somehow managed to arrive at Sam's and Tara's apartment in ten minutes and with a bag full of items.

Knocking on the door three times to announce your arrival you opened the door and walked in.

Tara was sat on the couch with the Babadook playing on the Tv, she turned her head to look at you, giving you a smile. You gave Tara a little wave with your free hand as you swiftly closed the door.

"Hey Y/n, Sam's in her room." She told you to which you smiled appreciatively at. "Hey Tara. How've you been?" You asked as you walked over to stand behind the couch, looking down at Tara.

She shrugged her shoulders weakly. "Alright, thanks for asking. I'm feeling much better than I was a few days ago."

"You were sick too?" You asked her. She nodded her head. "Unfortunately. Mindy had a bad cold and she gave it to me, and every time I get sick Sam also gets sick. So now she's rotting away in her bed."

You chucked at the thought of Mindy passing her cold to everyone in the group, thankfully you hadn't gotten it yet.

"Sibling connection." You teased before you glanced towards Sam's door. Tara giggled nodding her head, it was truly an annoying connection.

You began to walk over to Sam's room before you abruptly stopped and shoved your hand into the bag, pulling out a bottle of Cherry Coke and a small box of Nerds as you turned back to look at Tara.

"I almost forgot." You said making Tara turn to look back at you. Her eyes glanced at your hands and her eyes widened with excitement. You tossed over the drink and sweets that Tara horribly failed to catch.

"Thank you!" She yelled out in a sing song voice already opening the Nerds to get a handful. You laughed as you continued your original plan to walk towards Sam's door.

You gave it a gentle knock before walking inside. The room was utterly void of any light other than some of the light peeking through her curtains.

"Sammy, you alive?" You joked lightly as you walked over to the curtained window, pulling them apart only a bit to allow more light inside so you could actually see your girlfriend.

Sam grumbled as she shuffled around in her bed. "Barley." She said in a raspy nasally voice that made you sigh, she sounded really sick.

Kicking off your shoes you moved to sit by Sam on the bed. The sick girl turned away from you hiding her face in the pillows.

"I don't want you also getting sick." She mumbled as she let out a heavy breath. You pushed yourself closer to Sam as you placed the bag on your lap, searching through it for specific items.

"Well I'm here now and I'm not leaving until you're back to your non-sick self." Sam grudgingly rolled over with her face landing softly against your elbow.

You shuffled further down until Sam could lay her head on your shoulder. Turning your head to look at her you noticed she looked really ill.

Darker bags than usual were laying under her eyes, the end of her nose and the skin around her nose red from having to use a tissue so often, she was also boiling. Even through your hoodie you could feel the heat radiating off of Sam.

"Oh baby." You whispered with sympathy, Sam groaned next to you. "Don't pity me."

You rolled your eyes at her stubbornness. From the bag you pulled out a myriad of items: a packet of Ibuprofen, a box including sachets of cinnamon tea (Sam's favourite), a packet of tissues, a bottle of cold water and of course some soup.

"Have you taken any pills today?" You asked her to which Sam shook her head 'no'. You passed over the pack of Ibuprofen along with the bottle of water. "Take two now and then in a few hours if you've still got sore thighs you can have another two."

"How'd you even know my thighs hurt?" Sam asked pulling away from you to sit up on the bed, her back now against the headboard.

You copied her movement as you watched her take out two pills from the packet.

"Every time you're sick your thighs always hurt, I remember you telling me." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam's eyes gazed at you as she popped the pills in her mouth before taking a large sip of the water. She swallowed it after a few seconds and kept the bottle on the bedside table.

She coughed once as she nodded her head, giving you a smile. "Thank you." You smiled sweetly at her as you grabbed her hand, interlocking your fingers with a gentle squeeze.

"How about I go make you some soup and some cinnamon tea then we can watch anything you want." You suggested as you picked up the tomato soup can with your free hand, a bit basic but it was Sam's favourite.

She nodded her head slowly at your words, smiling weakly. "Yes please." She croaked out in a nasally voice.

You gave a curt nod before getting out of the bed, Sam let out a low groan as you dropped your interlocked hands.

"I'll be quick, you pick a show or movie while I make you your soup okay?" You said as you manoeuvred your hoodie off your body, dropping it in the floor.

"Fine." Sam exaggerated. You smiled at her once more before grabbing the box full of sachets and tin once again before leaving the room.

It didn't take long until you were back by Sam's side with a bowl of tomato soup, a small plate of toast and one cinnamon tea for Sam.

(While you were gone Sam had put on your hoodie which made your heart soar at the sight)

"You're the best." Sam thanked as she took the bowl from your hands, taking a small spoonful to which me moaned in satisfaction at the taste.

You beamed with pride as you moved closer to Sam's side until your shoulders and thighs were touching.

"Did you choose what you want to watch?" You asked her as you stole a toast off the plate on her lap. "Don't you dare get crumbs in my bed." Sam threatened as she turned to give you a serious look.

You sighed leaving the bed to stand up as you ate your toast. "What movie or show?" You repeated with a mouthful of toast.

"What's that tv show you keep watching when I'm at yours?" Sam questioned back as she took another spoonful of the soup.

"Brooklyn Nine Nine?"

"No I don't think so."

"Schitts Creek?" You guessed again.

Sam shook her head 'no.' "Derry Girls?" You asked in a more hopeful tone as you took one final bite of your toast.

"No, it's not a sitcom."

Dusting off the crumbs on your shirt you went to sit next to Sam again. "The End Of The Fucking World? Hannibal?" You tried again.

"Is the main character a Russian blonde woman?"

Your eyes widened as you finally figured out what show Sam was talking about. "Killing Eve?"

"Killing Eve, that's the name. Yeah Killing Eve." Sam confirmed as she took her own slice of toast dipping it into the soup. You grinned with satisfaction as you grabbed the TV remote, logging into Netflix to find Killing Eve.

"You know if you just said that in the beginning I would've guessed it a lot faster." Sam rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the toast.

As the opening scene to the first episode played Sam had enough of her food for now and placed them on top of the bed side table. Replacing the bowl and plate with her cup of tea.

You felt Sam move closer to you as she leaned her head on your shoulder, one hand holding the hot cup of tea and the other laying on your leg.

Wrapping an around her waist Sam relaxed even further into the touch. Sam was usually the one wrapping an arm around you, or usually being the big spoon, but when she's sick she settles for allowing you to be the bigger spoon.

"You're the best girlfriend ever." Sam said as she took another slow sip of her cinnamon tea, the smell wavered into your nose.

You chuckled at the compliment. "I know right." Sam rolled her eyes playfully as she took another careful sip of her tea.

"I take back my statement." She threatens with seriousness, you gasped dramatically as you placed a hand on your chest. "Oh how you wound me, my love." You say playing into the dramatics.

Sam laughed in a dry tone which still managed to make your heart skip a beat at the sound.

"Fine I'll take it back, just because I love you."

"I knew our love would conquer all."

The two of you stayed in comfortable silence till the end of the first episode of Killing Eve.

Sam had finished her tea and was fully cuddling into you at that point, making you pass her the bottle of water every now and again.

As you pressed play for the next episode Sam spoke up. "Thank you for coming over and taking care of me."

You smiled warmly as you kissed Sam's forehead, the skin cooled down a bit compared to how hot it was earlier.

"It's my duty as your girlfriend, Sam. You don't need to thank me." You reassured her as she let out a hum.

"Still, thank you." She said as you felt her press a featherlight kiss to your neck. You beamed with love at the contact, your smile somehow widening.

"I love you so much, Sammy."

Sam rolled her eyes at the nickname as a smile of her own played on her lips. "I love you so much more, Y/n."

[dawn-moths]

"Sunflower in the Summer Rain"

Thoma x Female Reader x Ayato

word count: 21,500+

(You’ve been working at the Kamisato estate for a while now and have caught the eye of both your cheerful colleague and your stoic superior. However, after they discover that each other has feelings for you, they have to come up with a plan so they don’t have to fight over you and risk losing each other's friendship. So, as long as you’re ok with it, they suppose they’ll just have to share.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! mostly fluff with smut at the end, slow burn, threesome, size difference, friends to lovers with thoma, mutual pining with both, some hurt/comfort with both, really both of them are sweet to you and wanna take care of you, polyamorous relationship, aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

The soft rays of dawn’s light spilled in through the windows, flooding the estate with pale, buttery light. At this time of morning, the house was as still and silent as a ghost, only the brief shuffle of the first arrivals scraping lightly across the polished floors as they made their way down to the housekeeping quarters to report their attendance and change into their uniforms.

You covered a yawn, dragging your feet a little as you followed suit, still feeling groggy and half asleep. Sometimes it felt like you never left this place. Like you only spent your unconscious hours inside your own home, curled up in bed, as if the idea of rest existed only in a dream.

But that was the life of a housekeeper, you supposed, especially if you worked for a family as prestigious as the Kamisatos. You were the first to arrive and the last to leave. Well, you, specifically, were usually running a little late, but after getting scolded by the head housemaid yesterday for your habit of tardiness, you figured you’d better not do anything to get on her bad side again anytime soon.

“Hey!”

You turned when you heard the familiar voice calling out your name, Thoma’s smile greeting you from across the way and causing a soft, sleepy grin to spread across your face.

“You’re here early!” he remarked merrily as he paced closer to stand before you, always a morning person no matter how many hours of sleep— or lack thereof— he had gotten the night before.

With a light scoff, you responded with a slightly dismal, “Yeah, well, one more write up and I might not be working here anymore…”

“Oh, c’mon!” Thoma chuckled, the sound like the sun coming into view as the lingering clouds parted in the sky. Hands on his hips, he then lowered his voice to a whisper and gave you a playful wink as he said, “Y’know I’d never let that happen.”

“Yes, well…” you rolled your eyes, retaining your lighthearted smile as the hint of something slightly sarcastic tried to work its way in. “We both know that you’ll never lose your job. Not when you’re best friends with the boss, at least.”

Thoma walked beside you now, taking note of your state of exhaustion and asked, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

You shot him a glance that was almost guilty, apologetic as you vaguely admitted, “Technically, yes, I did.” And then, unable to bear the weight of his concerned stare, you added on after another yawn, “For a couple of hours, at least…” Before he could begin to lecture you about how important getting enough rest was, you turned the question onto him. “But what about you? How is it you’re always so full of energy this early?”

Thoma grinned, but it was a little crooked, like he was hiding something. “Ah, y’know… Same as you, probably. But when I started to think about all the work that needs to be done this week I got a little restless…”

When the two of you reached the housekeepers quarters, you temporarily parted ways while you changed clothes and took stock of all your supplies. You started waking up a little more once you began to shift into work mode, but you had a feeling today was going to be a long one.

“Which wing are you assigned to?” Thoma asked once the two of you rejoined, traveling down one of the long hallways side by side once again, Thoma making sure to match your stride so as to avoid causing you to rush to catch up to him.

“West, I think…” you answered a little unsurely, suddenly doubting whether you’d read the posting correctly or not. “What about you?”

Thoma never stayed in one wing for an entire day. He was always bouncing from one corner of the estate to the next, making sure any and all loose ends were tied up, visiting you when he had the chance, and then, of course, attending to some more specific work the eldest Kamisato had entrusted him with. You also knew that Thoma was the only member of the housestaff allowed in Ayato’s personal quarters. You’d tried to press him for details about what it was like in there before but all Thoma seemed to offer in response was that it was big and, as expected for someone who was rarely there, kept meticulously organized.

“Have you ever found anything interesting or weird in there?” you’d curiously inquire. “Does he collect anything? What’s the coolest thing he owns?”

But Thoma would always avoid your questions, just saying something along the lines of, “I’m in there to clean, not spy on him,” and that would usually be the end of that conversation.

As you two exchanged some more last minute small talk, you let out a big yawn, which Thoma then caught, leaving him smiling a little and joking, “I better get going before your sleepiness rubs off on me.”

You cracked a grin and rolled your eyes. “Better watch out. Too much time around me and you might start spontaneously napping.”

Thoma let out a chuckle. “Can you imagine?” he said, and in all truth, you couldn’t. Even on his most busiest, exhausted day, Thoma was somehow able to put on a mask of energy and delight and get the job done. On one hand, you envied that ability in him, on another, it sort of freaked you out.

“Well don’t push yourself too hard,” you reminded him. “Even you need to sleep eventually. Besides…” You tipped your chin up, turning your body halfway in the opposite direction of him, nose sticking up in playful mockery as you perched your broom before you like a sword stuck down into the stones, a valiant weapon for a fearless soldier, so long as clearing dust bunnies was considered an act of selfless bravery. “If you don’t watch out for your health, maybe I’ll rise up the ranks and become Master Kamisato’s new head housekeeper instead.”

Thoma let out another one of those bright bursts of laughter. The careless kind. The kind that sounded so genuine, even at something as ridiculous as your little comment. “You wish!” he teased, lightly nudging at your broom with his foot to send you stumbling off balance. You stifled a giggle as you regained your stance and went to swing the sweeping end of the broom at him, purposely missing but still causing him to jump back a pace or two.

“Just ‘cause you’re the only one of us who regularly sees the head of the Kamisato clan face to face doesn’t mean that he’s not still keeping an eye on the rest of us,” you reminded Thoma with a little more sternness. You then took up a much more conservative posture, pretending to sweep the already spotless floor as you concluded with, “He could be watching us right now, for all we know.”

“And what about that?” Thoma gestured to the ring you were wearing and you quickly clapped your other hand over it. You knew wearing jewelry while on duty was prohibited, and if the head housemaid caught you wearing it you’d be written up for sure, but still, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“What about it?” you replied, a little defensive. Thoma had never ratted you out before. Would never even consider it. But that didn’t stop him from worrying that someone else might. All he gave you in response that time was a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. You knew the rules. He didn���t have to remind you. Besides, no matter how many times he’d tried, you never seemed to listen.

“Ok, well, just remember…” he sighed, “I can only bail you out so many times.”

Thoma strolled by to pass you, knocking down your proper and professional act as he tousled your hair, the simple motion earning him a disgruntled whine of, “Thomaaaaaa!” before sending you back into a fit of giggling as you danced about the confines of the hall around him, movements swift and excited as if urging him on into a chase.

“Just keep up the good work and you’ll have nothing to worry about,” he quipped, shooting you one of those boyishly devious smirks from over his shoulder as he continued on his way. “Or else I’ll have to tell the boss you’ve been slacking off!”

“Yeah, right!” you called after him, your voice echoing slightly through the spacious halls. Thoma turned the next corner and was gone, off to begin his long list of work for the day. If you were lucky and stayed on schedule, you might get to see him during the afternoon break. That chance alone was enough to get you moving doubletime. Meanwhile, as you began your work, you used the secret version of him you kept tucked into the corner of your mind to help pass the time.

Thoma was like the sun, you always thought— bright and warm, his presence alone enough to boost your mood and energy. Once, you’d grown brave enough to tell him that to his face, and since then he’d started to joke that, if he was the sun, you must be his pretty little sunflower, always turning towards him to open your vibrant petals.

That’s usually when you’d give him a nudge, tell him to get back to work as you tried, and failed, to wrestle the awkward smirk from your lips, feeling your ears growing hot with his flirtatious comments, however seemingly innocent they might’ve been intended to sound.

But, for as long as you’d worked as a maid for the Kamisato estate, your housekeeping colleague had never tried to make any real moves on you. Every time you thought maybe today would be the day he finally asked you on a proper date, even if the opportunity presented itself, Thoma seemed to insist on continuing your shared game of will they won’t they.

Thoma liked to see you smile, make you laugh, and— when he was feeling a little mischievous— become the reason for your flustered giggling and blushing cheeks. But, unlike most of the other patrolling guards, shopkeeps, and various locals who’d tried their hand at pretty words to woo you, he was the only one you actually gave the time of day.

Which was why this game was becoming rather frustrating.

Most days, you wished he’d do something. Anything. So much as a gentle brushing of his hand against yours, a sultry glance that turned into both of you holding each other’s stares for a little too long to read as just friends, a hand on your hip to guide you closer to him as he reached above you for something high up in a cabinet that you couldn’t quite grasp…

The golden haired, gleeful boy with the kind green eyes and sunshine smile had captivated you, as you were sure he had many of the other female housestaff— even some of your male co-workers, as you’d heard through the quiet mumbling and gossip that drifted through the distinguished halls after hours— yet you couldn’t allow yourself to get your hopes up too high.

Because you didn’t have reason to believe that Thoma’s attentive and genuine disposition towards you was exclusive.

Sure, you’d never seen or heard him interacting with others the way he did with you, besides the fact he was generally pleasant with everyone, if he could help it. Yet still you continued to hope and wish and pray that maybe tomorrow he’d drift a little too close to be regarded as professional.

But so far it seemed like you were just another sunflower in his garden, rooted deep into the warm earth and destined to only admire him romantically from afar.

At least you two could share lunches together, pick little samples from each other’s bento boxes and then laugh when one of you tried to toss up a piece of food and catch it in your mouth only to completely miss, sending the morsel rolling across the tatami mats or into the freshly raked sand gardens. Taroumaru would come scampering by to clean it up, if you two found yourselves working at the Komore Teahouse that day.

You usually preferred getting assigned to Komore Teahouse because that usually meant it would just be you and Thoma, providing you plenty of time to banter and several opportunities to slack off. You hoped you’d end up back there again in the near future, but for now, having been assigned to the main Kamisato estate and all its arching architecture and opulent wealth, generations of strict tradition and strategic marriages subliminally laced into every hand-crafted piece of furniture or masterfully painted portrait that lined the wide, spanning halls, you’d just have to settle for the bits and pieces of his time and attention you could get.

Snapping from your daydreaming, you returned to your previous task. You did have use for the broom in your hands, after all, same as the duster at your hip and the rag tucked into the pocket of your skirts.

The West Wing needed to be tended to so that the Kamisatos could host a very important meeting in one week’s time. Something about discussing the Yashiro Commission’s new role among the Tri-Commission what with the Vision Hunt Decree recently being abolished and all. Anything else you knew about it was merely pieces of gossip you’d overheard being shared among the other housestaff at the end of the day.

Like a majority of the other maids, you’d never seen the master you served in person, as he was both extremely busy with work that often sent him away from the estate and, in the few and far between moments he was home, skillfully elusive to the public eye and much more inclined to seek out the solitude within his own domain.

Maybe, if you were lucky— you imagined as you washed windows and mopped floors— you’d get a chance to catch a glimpse of the head of the clan for yourself over the coming days. Because, as was another tidbit of chitchat you’d overheard from some of the nosier maids, Ayato Kamisato was said to be extremely handsome. A gentleman too, from the sound of it. Every shred of speculation you collected about him, the more your curiosity grew eager at the prospect of catching just a glimpse.

As you pondered before the window you’d just finished cleaning, you absentmindedly began to fidget with your ring. It was your most prized possession— the only real reminder you had left of home. Not the tiny apartment you currently resided in, but the cottage of your childhood, a space nestled among the sloping valleys of the Inazuman countryside, a quiet refuge from the hustle and bustle of the city. The one where your mother and younger siblings still lived.

A home you may never get to see again before it was empty, you sometimes feared, but then reminded yourself to work hard so hopefully you could one day return.

And wasn’t it a little ironic? You’d gone off to care for the home of someone who was rarely ever around to enjoy or appreciate it, yet you missed yours so much it often made your heart ache, only able to carry around its memories.

It wasn’t until the head housemaid snapped at you to stop daydreaming and get back to work that you realized just how long you’d been gazing wistfully out the window, skittering along to return to your chores.

***

Ayato rarely had a moment to rest.

His packed schedule and endless itinerary of business related travel and events meant that he was away from the comfort and familiarity of his own home more than he was among it.

But, as he’d been reminded of since being born into such a prestigious and powerful bloodline as the Kamisatos, and as the eldest son no less, he was expected to carry out his duties as head of the Yashiro Commission with poise and precision.

Yet, the mysterious figure, though revered by most, was not without his criticisms…

“He’s arrogant.”

“He indulges himself too much!”

“He has a mischievous streak…”

All valid observations, Ayato noted privately, yet still he contemplated a way to eliminate them from the public sphere.

His housestaff had their own opinions of him too. More favorable, perhaps, but still troublesome, if left unchecked.

“He’s so handsome.”

“I think he looked directly at me today!”

“He even has a Vision. Imagine how powerful he must be…”

Ayato Kamisato had handpicked every single guard, butler, maid, chef, gardener— you name it— himself. He had the power to keep them, even if some of his advisors thought some of the female staff were a little too pretty for Ayato’s own good, and he also had the power to let them go, no explanations required.

But, even with every body type, facial structure, complexion, hair color, and temperament to choose from right under his own roof, Ayato only had one who’d really caught his eye…

You.

While you were among the newer batch of young and excitable maids— so honored, so grateful to be working for such a distinguished clan as the Kamisatos— he had still found himself drawn to you quickly.

Not just because of your unique and effortless beauty, the mixture of your feminine softness and boyish banter, but because he had a feeling— after all the years observing various kinds of young women both inside and outside of his influence and control— that you were different.

What you searched for in people wasn’t wealth or status or pedigree.

It was kindness and humor and empathy.

And he’d observed you with Thoma, the natural way you two interacted, how quick you both could put smiles on each other’s faces— like two mirrors reflecting joy back and forth between each other, all familiar warmth and tenderness.

He saw you two become playful, heard your lilting laughter echoing down the halls, sometimes catching the little quips you threw the housekeeper’s way when he started getting a little too rowdy, only for him to shush you and remind you to be mindful of the volume of your voice, which usually just earned him an eye roll and a mocking repetition of his previous remark.

You were a little firecracker, at times, a delicate, flickering flame at others, swaying back and forth over the polished floors as you hummed a melancholy tune during your chores.

Ayato wanted to get to know both sides of you, the same way Thoma had.

He wanted you to show them to him willingly, not only engage in them when you thought no one was watching and then hide them away like a fox burrowing into its hole when a superior— especially the head of household— walked by, scared into hiding by the hunting hounds.

But Ayato knew he was different too. So different from you. Different from Thoma. Different from all of the people who got to walk through their lives saying and doing as they pleased.

He knew that, unlike most of the other maids, with his name or title alone, he could never win you over. He’d have to bear his heart, such a fragile, guarded thing, and be prepared for you to still deny him.

The very thought terrified him, shook him to his core.

Ayato had faced perilous battles, outwitted dangerous foes, navigated through the years with the attitude of someone who was used to getting what they wanted but the mind of someone who knew they couldn’t really have everything.

So, now that he was back in some sort of proximity to you, the eldest Kamisato continued to watch.

He collected your effortless smiles and gentle laughter like secret, shiny trinkets, only ever getting close enough to remain invisible, often tucked around the corner of his study with his back pressed to the wall, sneaking careful glances through the crack in the door when you hurried by to meet the beck and call of the head housemaid and receive your next assignment.

At night, when your work was done at the main estate, he’d gaze out the window of his study and find himself smiling as your little silhouette strolled through the zen gardens below and disappeared around the grand front entrance gates. He’d try and catch you arriving in the morning sometimes too, but was rarely ever awake early enough to beat you to the beginning of your busy schedule.

But perhaps that was why Thoma had gotten to you first, been able to create a little nest of affection in your heart. The golden haired boy was like the sun, and you his sunflower, always opening your vibrant petals and turning them his way, letting him see the joy he’d helped nurture and create.

For Ayato, someone of the moon and the stars and the storming rains that came and went in the night, most times the only indication left behind that it had happened at all being the water sleek pavement the morning after…

How could he ever expect you to open up your petals to him?

You might as well have lived in two different worlds.

Yet, perhaps, if Ayato were to find his moon passing the sun in a rare eclipse, then maybe, just maybe, he could bask in the gold of your flowers, even if only for a fleeting moment.

***

“All done for the day?” Thoma pleasantly inquired, wearing his signature smile and posed in a confident stance. You’d just returned the cleaning equipment to the downstairs supply closet and he’d made you jolt as you came up the stairs, not expecting to see him standing right around the corner.

“Yeah,” you sighed, clutching your heart and wearing a worn out expression, though still trying to pep yourself up a little bit to match his unwavering amiable energy. “Finally… This upcoming meeting has us all working overtime.”

Eventually, you and Thoma began to walk out together, chatting about the quickly approaching event, all the importance surrounding it and how every detail had to be precisely in place when the day finally arrived.

For now, you could kiss your hopes of being sent over to Komore Teahouse for the afternoon goodbye. It was going to be crunchtime at the Kamisato estate until the conference commenced, only being able to relax once the very last guest exited through those gold embellished entrance gates. At least, you’d be able to relax until the next day when your endless list of chores would inevitably begin again…

“You know Ayato— uh— the Yashiro Commissioner, don’t you?” you promptly amended, unsure if it was improper to refer to the master you served by first name so casually, even if it was around a fellow colleague and trusted friend.

Thoma nodded, holding the door open for you before following behind and exiting the grand mansion for the day, the sunset over Inazuma painted with its usual lavenders and peaches, periwinkles and golds. “Sure do,” he replied. Then, without you even needing to ask he elaborated, “I may be his housekeeper, but I’m also his friend. Same goes for Miss Kamisato— Ayaka— as well. I’m not as close with his sister but, from my experience, she’s as kind and dignified as they come.”

“But what’s he like?” you then pressed a little further, your curiosity about the mysterious figure getting the better of you yet again. “I mean, when he’s not being the Yashiro Commissioner, is he still all like, proper and elegant or however everyone describes him all the time?”

Thoma smirked to himself.

The Ayato that he knew— the real Ayato— was still graceful and gentlemanly, yet carried an edge of mischief and frivolity. When he shared this with you, you perked up a bit, hungry to learn more.

“And, god, he’s so good at strategy games!” Thoma exclaimed, half in frustration, half in awe. “I swear, I must’ve played him at least a hundred times in shogi— never beat him once! Friend or not, he doesn’t go easy, and he definitely doesn’t ever let anyone win!”

You felt a crooked smile work its way onto your face then, breathing out an amused puff of a sigh from your nose. “So all you guys do all day is play games?” you asked, sounding a little sardonic. You then leaned on Thoma’s shoulder, your sudden weight sending him slightly off kilter as you whined, “C’mooooon, Thomaaaa! I wanna know about him, not how good he is at shogi!”

At this, your colleague raised a brow, catching onto your true motives now. “Oh? Why so curious all of a sudden? What—?” Thoma spun on his heel and walked backwards to face you, causing you to stumble off balance for a moment as your support beam vanished before straightening yourself and huffing out another annoyed sigh. When you met Thoma’s eyes next, the sunlight warmth he usually gave off was gone. Now, his emeralds held a darker quality, something lurking far below the surface and waiting to strike. “Think you have a chance at getting noticed by Ayato Kamisato, himself?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, quickening your pace to pass him and taking the lead in your routine after work stroll. “Please,” you scoffed, tone pulled taut and a bit strained, like the string on an instrument gone out of tune. “I could care less about that, so long as I keep getting my paychecks. What I’m saying is…” Now it was your turn to spin around to face him, the pebbly path under your feet shifting and crunching with each step. “It’s all just a bit strange, isn’t it? That, out of everyone who works for him, you’re the only one who sees his face on the regular. Have actually talked to him— hung out with him!”

Thoma wore a proud, almost mocking look, until you concluded your point with an only slightly cruelly satisfied, “Perhaps Master Kamisato doesn’t have an eye for maids in general.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself when Thoma’s expression dropped, instantly jumping to his own defense with a less convincing stammer of, “Ayato and I are not— He’s not—! We’re just friends!”

Feeling rather mischievous that evening, you turned back to walk forward and responded with a lilting tease of, “Whatever you saaaaay…” before you heard Thoma click his tongue, catching him shaking his head out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re just jealous,” Thoma shot back, catching up to stride directly beside you.

“Of your rich boyfriend,” you retorted, “well, obviously.”

Thoma threw an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side, ruffling your hair around and making you shout in mostly unbothered protest until you both were laughing with each other again.

You wished that your walk home would last a little longer on nights like this, when you were both having fun poking at each other but always in a good-spirited and harmless way. Just as the skyline of Inazuma City came into sight from down the hill, you began to fidget with your ring when a sudden realization hit you.

“Shoot!” you exclaimed in a hushed breath, beginning to double back the way you’d just come.

“What?” Thoma called after you, watching as your hurried walk morphed into a frantic jog. “What is it?”

“I forgot something back at the estate!” you shouted over your shoulder, your jog now becoming a run. “Just go on without me! Sorry!”

You didn’t quite make out what Thoma responded with, your heart beat already pounding in your ears as you willed your legs to go faster, cursing yourself for making such a stupid mistake.

You just hoped that you made it back in time to retrieve your most prized possession before one of the lingering maids discovered it, mistook it for trash, and discarded it.

***

As you burst back into the maids’ quarters, your heart fluttered with relief upon finding that your beloved belonging was not lost to you, but then, as it registered to you who was currently holding said belonging, your stomach sank with a deep, heavy dread— your heart an anchor plummeting beneath choppy waves.

Even without the family portraits whose frames you relentlessly dusted and polished day in and day out, so used to studying the careful, oil paint strokes from the art pieces, you still would’ve recognized him. 

Ayato Kamisato was, after all, the kind of man you’d remember even after one quick glance.

“Such interesting craftsmanship…” the Yashiro Commissioner remarked, almost as if to himself, as he gripped the tiny wooden ring between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up to the light and staring through the middle, examining it. “I wonder, was it made from a Thunder Sakura, by chance?”

Absolutely dumbfounded, you stood in the doorway, chest still heaving with the remnants of your panting breaths, ears slightly ringing, hair tousled from whipping in the wind, and eyes wide as the master you served locked stares with you.

If the head housemaid had been around, she would’ve smacked you upside the head and hissed at you to bow and show some respect, but you were all alone.

Just you and Ayato Kamisato.

Not another soul in sight.

Your brain was spinning, thoughts leaving your head almost as fast as they could enter it, and you felt a prickling heat rising up your entire body, your ability to speak suddenly lost to you.

You flicked your wild stare back to the ring, the dark, polished wood that— just as Ayato had perceived— was indeed forged of Thunder Sakura, gleaming under the low light.

On days like today, when the floors needed to be scrubbed by hand, each crack in the bamboo boards tended to meticulously, you left your prized ring on the table at your station to ensure it wasn’t damaged by the soap and water that had your hands so dry by the end that they— especially during the bitter winters— would split and crack.

You always made a point to put it back on as soon as you were done, returning all the supplies to your station and being reminded where you’d left it before departing the estate.

But today had been such a long day. By the afternoon you’d been sent running from one wing to the next, too much work to be done and never enough hands when an event as important as the upcoming one was only a few days away. So when one of the maids you were friendly with offered to return your supplies back to your station as she was already on her way, your exhaustion answering for you before your logic could chime in, you’d obliged.

Hence, ring left behind, panic ensuing, and now, as you blinked a few times to refocus your vision, the head of the Kamisato clan in your very presence.

“I’m assuming this is yours…?” Ayato spoke, voice low and soothing, as if trying to prove he wasn’t a threat to you. Next thing you knew, he was standing before you, his shadow engulfing your form, making you feel small under his presence, his gaze calm yet calculating. He held out the ring to you but, despite how worried you’d been about leaving it behind, you were now rather hesitant to take it. Because, as you dared to look up at him to meet those lilac eyes, you realized that the rumors about him couldn’t even begin to match up to the real thing.

The eldest Kamisato wasn’t just handsome and elegant and gentlemanly— He was intimidatingly so.

He was overwhelming, almost god-like in presence with his regal stature and all that ivory fabric cascading down his slender, toned form. Fastened at his hip was a sword, the hilt gleaming with silver and obsidian, tendrils of aqua winding through it with a pulsing glow, as if the weapon were alive.

You shuffled back a half step, swallowing hard. Too bad it did nothing to ease the nervous lump that had formed in your throat.

“Am I wrong…?” he then asked, drawing back his extended hand a fraction, more distance between you and your only piece of home. But as he prepared to close his gloved fist around the object, you found your voice.

“No—!” you blurted out, a crack in your voice causing you to turn a new shade of red. After clearing your throat, you restarted with a slightly calmer, but no less urgent, “It is mine. I left it behind by accident. I…” Ever so slightly, your quivering little hand began to reach for his where your ring sat, dwarfed in his massive, gloved palm. “Can I… Can I have it back, please?” You seemed to remember your manners then, sucking in a quiet gasp before forcing yourself into an awkward bow, adding on a panicked mutter of, “Master Kamisato, Sir.”

Ayato curiously considered the ring in his hand before training his gaze back on you, a soft smile forming across his previously stoic features. Then, before you could even begin to register what was happening, he was gently placing his gloved fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze back upwards until you were standing, your entire face flushed, a dangerous dizziness overtaking you for a moment at the unexpected contact, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Ayato nearly whispered, his lithe fingers still lightly cupping your jaw. For a reason you couldn’t quite place, you felt the threat of tears welling in your eyes, your body beginning to tremble as you stared up at him, unable to tear your eyes away despite wanting nothing more than to snatch the ring and run.

You opened your mouth to speak only for a small squeak to emit from the back of your throat, any more sound than that sure to break the dam you were trying so hard to hold back.

“Here…” Ayato removed his touch from you, used it to take one of your hands in his own, and placed the ring into your open palm, his other hand gently clasping around yours to close your fingers around it. You’d gone numb, not even fully realizing that the object was back in your possession. “Be careful not to lose it again,” he seemed to warn, though with that mischievous, deviously playful air Thoma had told you about laced into his words. With a wink you’d figured you’d imagined, he concluded with, “I may not be around to recover it for you next time.”

And with that, Ayato Kamisato disappeared around the corner, leaving you standing in the doorway of the empty maids’ quarters with your closed fist held out before you for an amount of time you’d lost track of. Maybe it had only been a few short minutes, or perhaps until the sun had sunk fully beneath the horizon that you’d been waiting for your body temperature to lower and your senses to return to you, the weight of the ring weighing heavier in your palm than it ever had before.

When you opened your fist to view it, part of you expected your hand to turn up empty, as if the entire exchange had been some sort of odd and delirious dream. But there it sat, the dark wood still gleaming under the low light.

You slipped it back onto your finger, your hands still slightly shaking, and hurried from the estate, only sure that not too much time had passed once you stepped back out under the sky and saw the moon barely glowing from between the darkened silhouettes of the clouds, the horizon still lined with the thinnest sliver of gold. Yet still, the entire way home, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking…

Had Master Kamisato’s warning been a command to stay vigilant, or rather, had it been a hint on how to possibly run into him after hours again?

***

The following few days of work proved more difficult than any other you could recall.

Whereas normally your constant stream of daydreams helped make your day go faster, your current fantasies only distracted you in all the wrong ways, caused you to misplace things most considered far more important than some old ring, and had your head spinning to such an extent that you often bumped into fellow housestaff in the hallways or had your shoulder colliding with the wall when turning a corner.

“Get your head out of the clouds!” The strict head housemaid had scolded you when you’d accidentally stepped back too far and knocked over a bucket of water meant to clean the windows, several surrounding maids rushing over to soak up the mess before it seeped into the expensive carpet. “Keep acting so negligent and you might find yourself searching for a new place of employment!”

You didn’t know what was wrong with you, but after that, you’d locked yourself in one of the servants’ washrooms and cried, head in your hands and trying to keep as quiet as possible.

“Hey…” a familiar voice spoke softly following two gentle tapping knocks at the door. Instantly, you perked up, holding your breath and keeping still in hopes that they’d think they’d only imagined hearing someone behind the door and continue on.

But Thoma knew you better than that. And you knew him well enough to know that he’d never just continue on if he even suspected you were upset.

“C’mon…” he sighed, a rare sadness twining through his tone. “I know you’re in there…” He leaned against the door, and from under the thin crack you could see his shadow slightly shift. He crossed his arms, lowering his voice to something a little more soothing, and pleaded with you, “Just let me in… You know you can talk to me…”

Before you’d made a conscious decision to let him in, you were reaching forward to crack open the door, falling back into the corner and looking over at him with fresh tears welling in your eyes as he slowly entered the tiny bathroom.

His eyes widened once he saw you, all that jade cracked with concern as he closed the door behind him and shut the both of you into the cramped space, barely enough room for the two of you to stand without breathing each other’s air.

But you were too upset to care about personal space right now, and you surprised the both of you when you reached forward to hug him, burying your face into his shoulder as your body shook with a new wave of sobbing.

Thoma wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head, lightly stroking his fingers through your hair, murmuring, “It’s ok… It’s alright… Everything’s gonna be fine… I’m here…”

Oddly, that only made you cry harder.

Because it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. It wasn’t like he could just tell the head housemaid she couldn’t fire you, that it was up to Master Kamisato and Master Kamisato alone who remained employed under his order or who was let go. It wasn’t like Thoma and the head of the Kamisato clan were close enough to—

You looked up at Thoma, the realization hitting you and forcing an awkward, embarrassed smile to spread crooked across your lips. Upon seeing this expression, Thoma turned a little nervous.

“What are you…?”

“Please, Thoma…” you muttered, sniffling and hiding your face in his shirt again. “Please don’t let him fire me… Please… I need this job. If I lose it I—”

“Whoa— What are you—” Thoma took you by the shoulders and held you out from him just far enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze darting frantically back and forth between yours. “What are you talking about? Why would you be fired? You—”

You looked like you were about to start crying again, so Thoma quickly amended with, “Look, no one’s gonna fire you, ok? Sure, the head housemaid can get… a little ahead of herself sometimes but, trust me…” He smoothed some stray strands of hair away from your face, reaching over to grab one of the towels hanging by the sink to dab away the salty streaks shimmering down your cheeks. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. Ok?”

You nodded, unable to meet Thoma’s gaze but feeling the gratitude that had sparked in your chest for him finally catch flame, reminding you of all the times he’d cared for you— not just now, but ever since the beginning. Ever since you’d been the newest face at the Kamisato estate, a small town girl already overwhelmed by the opulence you’d be expected to maintain on your first day before any of the real work had even begun.

Thoma, who was always there for you with a snack in between shifts.

Thoma, who insisted on walking you home.

Thoma, who would always look out for you, whether you worked with him or not.

“Hey…” he cooed, taking your chin in his fingers and lifting your gaze to meet his. Just like—

You froze.

Just like Ayato Kamisato had done.

The catalyst that had started everything that had led to this breakdown in the first place.

“You know that, right?” Thoma lightly pressed, and you could see it in his eyes, how badly he wanted— needed— a direct answer from you. A truthful answer.

Your lashes fluttered, blinking rapidly to try and clear away some of the mist in your vision, and replied in a low murmur, “I— I know…”

And then Thoma was leaning in, his lips nearly ghosting against yours, close enough that you could taste the strawberry mochi he’d had for dessert on his breath, and you closed your eyes, anxiety brewing but not enough to cause you to pull away.

Because how long had it been since you’d wanted this— wanted him— whether you were willing to admit to it out loud or not?

“Hey—!” someone called from beyond the door, giving three harsh bangs to further signal their impatience. “How long are you gonna be in there?!”

And then you and Thoma flinched, retracting from one another, shuffling as quietly as you could and knowing that, if the person was still waiting outside, things would only be worse for you if you were caught in that close of quarters with a male member of the housestaff.

“What should we do?” you whispered, worried.

“Just wait…” Thoma replied through a disappointed sigh. “They’ll get impatient and go find somewhere else.”

Sure enough, after another thirty seconds, you both heard an agitated huff and the sound of footsteps trudging off down the hall, clearly having grown tired of waiting.

“I’ll go out first,” Thoma instructed quietly. “Wait a few minutes then just return to work.”

“Thoma, I—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted, cracking the door open to take a peek outside. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll even talk to Ayato, if that’s what it comes down to. But for now…” He slipped out of the tiny bathroom, closing the door and speaking to you through the crack, “Just do the best you can, kay?”

He flashed you one last smile before closing the door, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there, almost as if in shock, until you felt like several more minutes had passed. When you emerged, you fell back into line with the other maids, kept your head down, and hoped to evade the head housemaid for as long as possible.

But that night, you didn’t walk home with Thoma. In fact, you hadn’t even seen him for the rest of the day.

So you left the estate on your own, fidgeting with your ring and fighting the urge to relive all the previous catastrophes over and over again in your head.

Because lately, you felt like you were one mistake away from ruining everything.

***

“You’re friends with quite a good number of the maids, are you not?” Ayato suddenly thought to ask Thoma one day while the housekeeper was accompanying him on his afternoon errands.

Thoma thought nothing of it, simply shrugged and answered, “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

Ayato hummed out a note of contemplation, his gaze falling upon a jewelry stand they were passing by, a silver ring with a chunk of crystal marrow glittering among the other precious gems— cor lapis and jade, ruby and sapphire.

Ayato stopped to examine the ring closer, the night he’d found yours returning to his mind.

You’d been hard to read. Nervous, obviously, and rather upset at thinking you’d lost something that belonged to you. But unlike most of the other women Ayato crossed paths with, you’d seemed genuine.

That scared Ayato a little bit.

It also excited him.

Because you were a challenge, like one of his strategic games.

He was going to have fun figuring out how to win you over, and though material gifts seemed the easiest route to take, it was also a test.

Because if that was truly all it took to sway you, then maybe you weren’t the kind of girl he really thought you were.

If that were the outcome, it would be disappointing, yes. But Ayato was a busy man. He didn’t have time to give his affection to just anyone.

“And what of that one maid…?” Ayato continued to casually pry as he lifted the silver ring from its bed, studying it closer, the shopkeep nearly holding his breath upon watching the clearly very wealthy man surveying his wares, hoping for a purchase. “The one who’s always with you?”

Thoma’s pleasantry dropped, his tone turning dark, accusing. “What of her?”

Ayato met Thoma’s eyes, caught off guard by his housekeeper’s— his friend’s— sudden shift in mood. He placed the ring back, the man behind the stand exhaling with disappointment as Ayato and Thoma moved on.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Ayato assured his friend, their slow stride now veiled in an uncharacteristic tension. “It’s just… You two seemed close so I wasn’t sure if you…” His sentence trailed off.

“We’re not together, if that’s what you’re implying,” Thoma admitted, clearly dissatisfied with that fact. “But the other day I—” He stopped short as a ball came rolling their way, three little boys skidding to a halt from up the path as they watched their toy tumble towards the strangers. Thoma grabbed it up, gave them a smile, and tossed it back, earning a trio of thank you’s and a fading chorus of shouts and laughter as they went running off again.

Ayato knew Thoma had a habit of being effortlessly kind. It was one of the things that had drawn him to the Mondstadt native, at first weary that his courtesy came with some ulterior motive only to learn that Thoma was just a rare breed within Ayato’s circle of upper class company.

Even for someone who had so much less than the Yashiro Commissioner, the housekeeper always seemed to have more to give than any rich elite Ayato had ever encountered.

“The other day…?” Ayato tried to guide Thoma back on track.

“Oh—” Thoma then seemed to remember, the remainder of the confession seeming to fluster him, even in front of his trusted friend. “Well, I almost kissed her.”

At this, Ayato was able to hide his surprise, though just barely. Because, while the emotion didn’t show on his carefully controlled features, the strain in his voice said otherwise.

“You almost kissed her?”

“Yeah…” Thoma kicked at the dirt, staring at his scuffed up shoes. “But then we were interrupted and… I dunno…” He met Ayato’s eyes then, and if he noticed any jealousy, he didn’t make it known. “I guess I’m just afraid I’ll overstep somehow. Like, what if that’s not what she really wants, y’know?”

Ayato nodded to himself, buying some time to organize his thoughts before strategizing his next move. Because Ayato now found himself caught in the middle of things— pulled back and forth between supporting his friend or selfishly taking what he wanted for himself right from under him.

He knew the power he held, but also knew that exercising that power in this situation meant jeopardizing his carefully established trust with Thoma.

“Have you ever thought to ask her?” Ayato said.

“Ask her what?”

“Well, what she wants, of course,” Ayato clarified. Thoma continued to look confused, oblivious. Ayato sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If you know what she wants, then that would help you understand the right thing to do, would it not?”

Now it was Thoma’s turn to nod to himself, rolling that idea over in his head. “I guess you’re right…” he muttered. “Though, I suppose the timing wasn’t really right anyway.” Thoma chuckled a bit, saying, “I doubt she’d want to remember her first kiss with someone while she was in the middle of crying.”

Ayato’s eyes widened. “Crying?” His concern was unmasked. “Why was she crying?”

Thoma recounted what he knew of that particular situation, how the head housemaid had had it out for you that day and the stress of the approaching event was wearing you down. To this, Ayato immediately decided to give you the next two days off, let you decompress a little.

“It’s not like one maid missing will really hinder things…” Ayato shrugged, then looking to Thoma for confirmation, asked, “Right?”

Thoma, though knowing how busy the maids had been as of late, couldn’t disagree that some time off would be beneficial to you. “A few days couldn’t hurt. Pretty sure we’ve got most things in order for the meeting at this point anyway…” And, if it came down to it, Thoma would have no problem picking up the slack for you.

Ayato smiled, soft yet guarded, too afraid to let the outside world read his true emotions as easily as you and Thoma so carelessly expressed. “Brilliant,” he concluded, clapping Thoma on the shoulder. “Though, similar to the maids, I, too, am looking forward to the end of all this commotion and anticipation.”

Thoma and Ayato shared a laugh and prepared to double back towards the estate. Ayato could only dodge his responsibilities for so long before one of his advisors noticed, after all. On the way back, however, he couldn’t help but stop at that jewelry stand one more time, the same crystal marrow ring catching his eye. That time, with the shopkeep even more blatantly eager, Ayato bought it, tucking it into his pocket to save until the time was right.

“Who’s that for?” Thoma teasingly asked, always trying to guess what kind of girl the head of the Kamisato clan was currently courting, since Ayato never seemed to give him a straight answer about it.

“I’ve decided to start a new game,” Ayato replied vaguely, though with no absence of that mischievous smirk. “And this…” He held the ring to the sky, ensnaring the brightly glowing sun within the silver loop like he intended to trap it, to claim it for his own. “This is my strategy.”

***

When you’d been informed that you’d been given two days off, your first thought was not, “Oh thank god, a well deserved break”, it was, “Oh, I’m fired alright. This is just an excuse to keep me away while they find a replacement.”

You were restless for most of those forty-eight hours, pacing about, mind spinning and unable to focus or relax or sort anything out like you should’ve been doing, now that you’d been given the opportunity. But Thoma had stopped by your apartment one night, brought you something special for dinner, and as you’d shared the meal together he’d helped ease some of those worries.

“So I talked to Ayato,” Thoma admitted during dessert, “told him what was going on, and everything’s fine. It was his idea to give you time off…” Thoma slid another strawberry mochi— his favorite— onto your plate. “So cheer up!” You’d given a weak smile, a vague attempt at reassuring him, and perhaps possibly yourself as well, that you believed him.

And for a little while, you did.

You believed that everything was fine.

Once you returned to work and got back to your regular schedule you’d almost forgotten about the conflict completely. But all of that changed the very next time you laid eyes on the master of the house, catching a blur of periwinkle and ivory rounding the corner near his own personal quarters.

“Oh— M-Master Kamisato…” you stammered as you gave a rigid bow. “Please excuse the intrusion… I wasn’t aware you’d be at the estate today, I—”

Ayato hummed out a note of gentle amusement. That was all it took to silence you. You straightened your posture and blinked a few times as your vision focused on him, surprised to find him smiling.

“Please, no apologies necessary,” Ayato assured you, already beckoning you towards him with a wave of that elegant, gloved hand before saying, “Do you have a moment? There’s actually something I wanted to show you.”

Stunned and frozen in the conflict of indecision— because what would the other maids say if they found out the Yashiro Commissioner himself was inviting you beyond the doorway of his private rooms? But also, who were you to deny a direct order from the master of the house?— your mouth hung slightly open with the words of polite denial desperate to escape, yet found themselves trapped behind your teeth, some of them getting lodged in your throat.

“It’ll only take a moment,” Ayato then insisted. You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously, though ultimately complied and hurried past him and into the room where he then closed the door behind him.

You felt ridiculous, your hammering heart and nervously fidgeting fingers making you feel like you must’ve looked like a wreck around him, getting all worked up when this was all probably just something to do with tomorrow’s meeting. Just an important, albeit last minute, detail that he’d just grabbed the first staff member passing by to assist him with, right?

But then the night that you’d first run into him flashed through your mind again. You felt the gentle way his fingers had lifted your chin, the ghost of that curious lavender gaze coming back to haunt you. He’d even winked at you, made you feel like maybe he’d meant it as more than a joke when he’d alluded to the fact that if you left your ring lying around again he’d have cause to come see you.

But who am I, a bitter whisper hissed in your mind. Who am I to think for a single second that someone like him would want anything to do with someone like me?

Outside of your cleaning services, that is.

“The other day…” Ayato began, slowly pacing over to the counter of his vanity while you remained standing stiffly not too far from the doorway. “I was walking the halls and came upon something that I believe might belong to you.”

Instinctively, you reached for the finger that you wore your ring on, afraid the little piece of carved Thunder Sakura had slipped from your grasp again. It was secured exactly where it was supposed to be, and you didn’t make a habit of wearing other jewelry, especially while you were working, so you had no idea what it could be that he was alluding to.

Ayato plucked up the shiny Crystal Marrow ring, the rare gem glittering under the light even from across the room, and held it out to you, once again drawing you strategically closer to him. He said, “This wouldn’t happen to be the same ring you lost just recently, would it?”

As you cautiously approached, your gaze shifted from him to the ring that— you both knew— didn’t belong to you.

Ayato was watching you carefully, keeping track of your hands to see if one would try to hide the other, cover up a lie before it left your mouth, but all your hands did was clasp and wring tighter together, your throat bobbing with a particularly hard swallow.

“That’s…” you began, as if unsure. But then you met his eyes again, his gaze as unyielding and unreadable as ever, and you shook your head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not mine.”

“Oh?” Ayato tested, pretending to examine the ring closer before once again extending it towards you. “Are you sure? I thought it looked like the one I recovered down in the maids’ quarters… Perhaps I was wrong.”

Ayato began to turn, feeling somewhat satisfied with himself as you’d nearly passed the test. But then, as you blurted out a startled, “Wait—!” his heart sank a bit, already accepting the fact that you weren’t the kind of girl he’d thought— hoped— you were.

“Yes…?” he hesitantly encouraged.

“I— Uh, well— It’s just…” You were shifting on your feet and fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves now, never able to hold still when you were nervous. Even in a moment of oncoming disappointment, Ayato couldn’t help but find that trait endearing in you. But then you cleared your throat, tried to steady your quivering voice, and suggested, “Perhaps you should keep it in a safe place until someone comes forward. I can ask the other maids if any of them have lost anything recently. I won’t say what, just in case, but if that ring truly does belong to one of us, they’ll have an exact description of it.”

You looked at Ayato differently now, with more urgency, as if returning this unknown person’s lost item was suddenly the most important task you could undertake.

“I mean, whoever it belongs to, surely they must be worried about it. I mean, it does look very expensive, so they’re probably in a panic over losing something so valuable.” You were rambling now, yet another sign of your building anxiety. “Perhaps we should gather all the housestaff right now just to make sure—”

Ayato slowly reached for your hand and you let him take it, though couldn’t contain the little gasp that escaped you upon the surprise contact. Once again you were reminded of how gentle he was, how softly his gloved hand cradled yours, turning your palm upward and placing his closed first in the center, allowing the ring to land in your possession.

“I trust you will return this to the rightful owner then?” he grinned, a faint tint of mischief twinkling in his eye.

He hadn’t originally intended to let you keep it— He’d planned on gifting it to his sister once he’d used it to test you, actually— but in that moment, the eldest Kamisato had experienced a change of heart.

You looked at the ring that sat in your palm, so much prettier than the plain wooden one wrapped around your finger, so much more expensive, and for a moment you wished that it did belong to you. But as you closed your fist around it, dropping it into your apron’s pocket for safekeeping, you simply gave Ayato a firm nod and replied, “I’ll do my best.”

You’d hurried to depart from his chambers then, nearly forgetting to bow and address him formally on your way out, and it was then Ayato’s turn to be stunned.

He thought that you couldn’t do anything to surprise him further.

But he was proven wrong when you returned to him two days later, informing him that you’d inquired with everyone who worked both at the estate and Komore Teahouse and no one had been able to claim it, and placed the ring back into his palm, apologizing that you hadn’t been able to help after all.

***

Several more weeks had passed and you had yet to run into Ayato again. But that was fine with you. After you’d felt like you’d failed him, you were a little embarrassed to meet face to face any time soon. Other than that, however, your spirits had considerably lifted over the last few days.

For the most part, you and Thoma were back to your old selves, the halls filled with your playful banter and harmless teasing. He’d walk you home at the end of the day, sometimes lingering by your front door as if trying to buy himself a little more time with you. Sometimes you’d linger too. And during those small, intimate windows of quiet and staring, he’d look at you the way he had when he’d found you crying in that tiny, cramped little bathroom in the servants’ quarters and, more often than not, you found yourself wishing he’d finish what he’d started. But, night after night, Thoma would bid you farewell and leave you be, waiting until you were safe and sound inside of your little home before venturing back to his own lodgings.

“What…?” you’d finally gained enough courage to ask through a mutter one night when he was gazing at you in that way again.

“Nothing…” Thoma lied, the word barely a breath as the breeze came to whisk it away. “It’s just…”

“Just…?” You repeated, a hopeful lilt of encouragement in your tone.

Thoma couldn’t decide which was harder— to meet your eyes or retreat. On one hand, your stare was a familiar one. One he wished was reserved only for him, similar to the way he saved certain looks only for you. But, adversely, it was because of that familiarity that he found himself so hesitant to move forward.

Because if he misread things, if he messed them up, he’d risk ruining everything with you.

And that was something he wouldn’t be able to bear.

“Thoma…” You called him back to reality, caused him to meet your eyes again, almost with a look of premeditated guilt. “You can tell me…” You spoke quietly. Soothingly. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You thought you saw vulnerability welling behind all that emerald green, but lost a little confidence when something sad and almost regretful rippled within it.

“Thoma…” you began again. “I—”

But before you could speak another word, his hand was cupping your cheek, fingers gently combing themselves into your hair, and his mouth was on yours, his lips sweet with strawberry mochi.

You melted into the gesture, feeling your worries dissolve like sugar cubes dropped into afternoon tea as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You felt yourself heating from the inside out as his tongue mingled with yours, taking his time to learn you in this way, a lazy, honey-drip of arousal slowly working its way through your blood, settling warm and heavy in the pit of your stomach.

And how long had Thoma waited for this? Waited to feel like you were his, as if you hadn’t been from the start? How long had you wanted to be his, even when you’d tried to convince yourself you were nothing special? How could either of you have forgotten that he was the sun and you were his sunflower, opening your vibrant, golden petals for him and only him?

Perhaps because there were storm clouds rolling in to stand between you two.

Though, how could the warmth of the sun be appreciated without the reminder of the rain?

How else would the flowers grow?

***

You hadn’t expected things at work after the night Thoma had kissed you to feel so… awkward.

You’d thought things would be the same as always, only now, you couldn’t shake the inkling of dread that crept over your back like a looming shadow that everyone knew. You hadn’t told anyone, and you assumed Thoma probably hadn’t either, but every time a new set of eyes landed on you, whether in the halls of the Kamisato estate or on the Inazuman streets, you wished you could just disappear for a while, like how a turtle tucks itself back into the safety of its shell at the first signs of danger.

You focused on keeping your head down, trying to work so hard you went home so exhausted at the end of the day you fell right to sleep before your mind was forced to endure the torture of dwelling on all this new anxiety that had stirred up within you. A few times, when Thoma passed by when you were in the middle of mopping or sweeping or dusting, he’d divert his prior path and migrate towards you, seeing the look of growing weariness etched into each feature and line of your face and ask a quiet and concerned, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine…” you’d lie with a forced half smile, unable to meet his gaze as you said, “Just tired, is all,” before making up some excuse about how you were needed in another wing of the house and were running late. As you hurried off, not looking back before rounding the corner like Thoma was so used to, he’d find himself standing in place, staring down the vacant hall while the ghost of your image growing smaller in his vision haunted his mind.

Eventually snapping out of it, he, too, returned to work. Though, similar to you, Thoma couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. Something was wrong. And no matter how long he dwelled on it, the fault came up as his every time.

Because maybe you’d changed your mind after the night you two had first kissed.

Maybe he’d overstepped.

Maybe you’d decided you didn’t want him anymore.

Though, as far as you were concerned, the issue didn’t lie with Thoma, himself.

The issue was how much you couldn’t stop thinking about him, how you kept replaying that moment over and over in your mind, trying to recapture the feeling it had given you, how safe you’d felt, how relieved.

Now, unfortunately, all you could feel was anxious.

Because what if Thoma changed his mind about you?

What if he’d been let down?

What if he didn’t want you anymore?

If only you could gather up enough courage to talk to him about it, see where he was at. Then maybe both your minds could be put at ease.

But there was something else that was bothering you too. Something swimming just below the surface that you could just barely make out the shape of yet were still unsure of just what kind of creature the swirling silhouette belonged to…

Though, from time to time, flashes of a certain Kamisato would race through your brain— the way his touch had cradled your chin, how your little hand had been swallowed up in his gentle grasp, the way he’d gazed at you so tenderly that, for a second, you’d been able to convince yourself he actually cared for you.

It was all too confusing to sort through at the moment, but it seemed the more distance you tried to put between yourself and your troubles, the further they dug their claws in, latching onto every emotion and thought you felt or had and flooding them with images of crimson and gold, periwinkle and ivory, until all the colors mixed into an indistinguishable grey.

When you ran into Thoma again at the end of the day, you were turning down his offer to walk home together before he could even get the question out. And the way his voice— always so gentle and bright, shining even through the cracks in his disappointment— trembled a little with a nervous laugh at the end when he assured you it was ok, wishing you a good night before parting ways…

That was what finally sent you over the edge.

That was what broke the dam that had kept everything at bay inside of you.

Because here you were, sabotaging yourself just as you’d feared.

Feeling the rushing waters welling behind your eyes, you forewent your usual path towards home and instead found your feet carrying you closer to the gardens of the estate.

At least there, you thought, you’d be able to let your heart break in private.

***

You’d barely made it to the secluded little nook in the gardens before breaking down, tears sparkling in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks in shimmering pairs as you cupped your hand over your mouth, hoping to muffle as much of the hiccuping sobs that were slipping through your fingers as you could.

If someone found you here like this it wouldn’t be the end of the world— you were at least allowed in the gardens, after all— but you knew how fast word spread between the maids and the last thing you needed right now was more gossip and another target on your back.

So, crouched and curled in on yourself, you wept as silently as you could, your heart feeling like it was being torn in two all while your worries continued piling higher and higher by the moment that you knew all it would take to send them all toppling down would be only the slightest nudge.

That nudge, as it turned out, came to you in the form of ivory and periwinkle, the low, soothing tone of Ayato’s voice asking from right above you, “What ever seems to be the matter?” in a way that sounded both startled and genuinely concerned.

His sudden appearance made you jolt, rocking back off your heels and hitting the ground with a graceless thud before scrambling up to your feet and frantically wiping your reddened, glassy eyes with the edge of your sleeves, sputtering out a string of frazzled nonsense that was meant to be an apology.

But Ayato stopped you before you made an even bigger fool of yourself, one hand slightly raised as if hesitantly reaching out to an injured animal, unsure whether it would accept the aid or bare its teeth in a defensive snarl. “Please, don’t be upset,” he attempted to comfort you, shuffling half a step closer. “Whatever’s happened, I’m sure it can be resolved…” You finally gained enough courage to look up at him, seeing how he stood only a few feet away, arms open as if beckoning you to him now.

When your stares met, Ayato gave a soft smile and said, “It’s alright… Now, won’t you tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

Much to Ayato’s dismay, this kindness only caused you to cry harder, a new round of tears bursting forth as you nearly fell to your knees, body shivering with your sorrows as all the emotions flooding you froze over into a bitter ice, trapping you beneath the surface and drowning you from the inside out.

You weren’t sure how long Ayato had his hands on your shoulders, bent slightly as if to better see eye to eye with you, and was cooing out words of comfort before it registered to you that he was really there, was actually touching you, brushing stray strands of disheveled hair from your face and using his thumb, now tugged free from its glove, to gently wipe away your tears.

How many others had felt the direct touch of his skin on theirs, you then wondered, staring up at him, reverent, entranced. How many people has he even dared to touch? For someone who seemed like a god among men in many strangers’ eyes, it was almost terrifying to be this close to him. To have him be this close to you.

As your head cleared a little, your bleary vision returning to you with the sharpness of Ayato’s regal colors, you thought you heard him saying in a quiet, serene whisper, “There, it’s alright… It’s all going to be alright… I’m here…” a few times over until he thought you’d calmed down.

And then there was a long moment where the two of you were just gazing into each other’s eyes, faces mere inches apart, that caring smile still spread across his lips while you gaped at him like someone who’d thought they’d just seen a spirit drift across their path, curious and petrified and a little bit in awe all at once.

He began to lightly cup your jaw in his grasp again, humming out a quiet, lovely little note when he thought perhaps he was getting through to you, but, without meaning to, you flinched away from him, nearly stumbling back among the pebbled walkway but catching yourself at the last second, and watched as his smile dropped to a regretful frown, his hand still reaching out to you as if begging you to stay, imploring you to return to him so he could give you the comfort you so desperately needed right now.

Your senses returned to you and you flushed with sharp, prickling shame. “I— I’m so sorry…” you sniffled, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, tongue feeling heavy and lethargic in your mouth as thick saliva garbled your words. Clearing your throat and trying to adjust your rumpled uniform, you averted your eyes from him and began to speak more formally, saying, “I’m so sorry you caught me like this, Master Kamisato, I was just—”

“Please…” Ayato cut in, so much power contained in a single word, though the request was spoken softly. The gentleness of it forced your eyes to flick back to meet his, your next breath catching in your throat. Because he wasn’t just seeing you, wasn’t just catching a glimpse from the corner of his eye as you passed along in the halls of the manor, busy with work.

Ayato was really looking at you, as if trying to search the very depths of your soul. Like he was trying to figure out every little detail that had occurred in your life thus far that had turned you into the person who stood before him right at that very moment.

And you knew, in that moment, you weren’t just another maid to him, another girl in the same uniform who wasn’t meant to be seen or heard.

You were you.

Just you.

And Ayato looked like he liked you.

He looked like he liked you a lot.

“There’s no need for formalities…” he went on, cautiously closing the gap between you two and gauging your reaction on whether it was ok to proceed. When you didn’t move, didn’t make an attempt to get away or even avert your eyes that time, he allowed himself to come as close as he had before, close enough to reach out and touch you.

That time, it was your hand he reached for— the one that wore that precious Thunder Sakura ring— and he turned it over in his grasp so your palm was face up to him. You watched, body so still you would’ve believed even your heart had stopped beating, as Ayato traced the lines etched into your palm, his lilac eyes entranced by how small your hand was in his, how precious you were, how soft your skin was despite all the work you did all day long, lingering on a few callouses that came and went depending on if the manor had any big events to host in the near future or not.

“Master Kami—” you began, but stopped yourself, swallowing down the remainder of his title and trading it for the name he preferred from you right now, “Ayato…” His view snapped back to yours, pausing where the pad of his bare finger was tracing your love line. “If we’re going to do this, don’t you think it should be somewhere a little more…” You looked around you, the space wide open for any prying eyes to spy on you, only vaguely shrouded by the various flowers and trees and hedges that crept around the garden’s edges.

But then his smile returned, allowing you to take your hand back as he said, that hint of mischief prevalent in his hushed voice, “Of course. And I know the perfect place…” He began to slowly stroll away, as if expecting you to follow him. He glanced over his shoulder after a few smooth strides. “This time of day, we should have Komore Teahouse all to ourselves.”

***

Ayato had been right, the teahouse was completely empty, all save for Taroumaru, but it wasn’t like he was going to go around spreading rumors about who he saw walk in with whom. Besides, it wasn’t any random strangers you’d been afraid of encountering there while in the company of the Yashiro Commissioner.

It had been Thoma, obviously.

But, lucky for you, after everything that had just happened, you knew he’d headed straight home, no more chores or duties to attend to that day.

What would he think if he walked in and saw that you’d ditched him to spend time with his boss though?

You prayed he actually had gone home and didn’t make any last minute stops along the way just to ensure that all his work for the day really was complete…

“So…” Ayato prompted as he took a leisurely sip of his tea, the scents of honey and bergamot wafting pleasantly through the air on the tendrils of steam that curled from both your porcelain cups. “What’s been troubling you? I certainly hope the head housemaid wasn’t the cause of all those tears…” It seemed like perhaps he was joking, though he also knew just as well as you did that there was more truth to that suspicion than you wanted to admit.

Awkwardly sipping your tea, comforted by the warmth against your palms at the very least, you gave a crooked, nervous grin and shyly replied, “It’s… complicated.”

Ayato wore a more grave expression now, setting his cup down on its saucer with a quiet clink. “So she is bothering you?” he deduced, as if ready to get up and go fire her on the spot. “I shall have a word with her. There’s no reason for her to—”

“No, no, that’s not it…” you brushed off Ayato’s severity with a wave of your hand and an only slightly less crooked smile. “It’s just…” you sighed, defeated, hanging your head a little as the words you knew you were about to say weighed heavy in your brain. “It’s…” You felt your leg resisting the urge to restlessly bounce and fidget from where it was folded underneath you.

You had the words in the right order, but did you have enough courage to say them out loud?

Ayato leaned in a little closer, encouraging you to speak freely, already invested in whatever it was you were about to say.

But why should he be? He was your boss, and you two had barely spoken, barely even seen each other face to face much before now anyway. Would it be out of line to tell him what was really bothering you, even if he really wanted to know? Would it be a betrayal to Thoma, who was also Ayato’s friend?

So many questions began to trickle into your thoughts and soon you found yourself once again on the verge of tears, overwhelmed.

You hid your face in your hands, just feeling like an idiot now, so embarrassed you thought you might curl up and die from it, but then Ayato was scooching around to your side of the table, your name leaving his lips with distress as he placed an arm around your shoulders, helping pull you close to him as you instinctively leaned against his chest, shamelessly seeking out any comfort he’d give you now.

“It’s just all so messed up…” you sobbed, voice cracking with frustration and fear. “I’m so messed up. I just— I just don’t know what to do or how to feel or think anymore, I—”

As you cried into the expensive, silky fabrics of his custom-tailored clothes, face buried into his shoulder, Ayato kept rubbing a hand up and down your back, unsure of what to say anymore but still hoping his touch could bring you some relief.

It was how he used to comfort his sister when she was small, back during the times she remembered they didn’t have parents anymore and all she could do was cry. She was the only person Ayato had ever really had a chance to comfort, the only person who was allowed to show such open, vulnerable emotion in his presence. Ayato used to weep for his parents too, though, when it came to his own sadness, he’d chosen to bear that weight alone, only safe in the silence of the night, buried beneath the layers of his bed that often felt so big and lonely he could’ve drowned in it.

“I think I love him…” You finally were able to admit, tearing Ayato from his tapestry of childhood trauma. “I think I have for a while but I never thought he’d feel the same and I— He— I just don’t know what to do because what if I ruin everything? What if I already have? I don’t want to lose him but I don’t know how to be with him either and I’m just afraid that either way I’ll end up making the wrong choice and—”

You hadn’t said his name once, yet Ayato knew exactly who you were talking about. He knew that Thoma felt the same way you did in so many ways that perhaps if you two just were as honest with each other as you were being now with him all your troubles could be resolved.

Yet, all the while, as he comforted you through your crying and confessions, Ayato’s heart was breaking. Because he could tell just how much you cared for Thoma, same as he’d been able to learn just how much Thoma cherished you.

And how could Ayato— Kamisato or not— ever hope to compete when the two of you were already so symbiotic?

Maybe because, as much as the sunflower needed the sun to warm its golden petals, it also needed a little rain here and there so it could grow, thick stalk reaching closer towards the sky once the clouds receded.

Hope is a dangerous thing, Ayato heard a voice in the back of his head warn as he tended to the garden of your suffering, willing to stay beside you and keep you in his arms for as long as you needed even if this would be the one and only time he’d get to hold you like this. Act careless and you’ll find yourself caught out in a storm you can’t weather.

You both had sustained enough worries and woefulness for one day, so Ayato did one of the things he’d learned to do best. He put on a mask to hide his true emotions— this one crafted of comfort and kindness to shield his heartache— and gave you a light shake, pulling you back to your senses and causing you to meet his eyes again.

With a smile that was only a little bit sad, Ayato said, “You know, whenever I’m in need of a pick me up, I always find myself wandering back to my favorite bubble tea spot…” He studied your features, hoping his invitation to help cheer you up wouldn’t be denied. “It’ll be my treat, of course.”

And, thank the Archons, that actually got a smile on your face, even if it was just a small, slightly shy one.

“Well, alright…” you replied, some of the playfulness you usually reserved only for Thoma sneaking into your next words, “but only if you’re paying.”

It would only be after he walked you home and you found yourself alone again that you’d realize just how deep in trouble you really were.

***

Several more weeks had passed and you and Ayato had continued with your secret meetings. He’d bring bubble teas to Komore Teahouse after hours at the end of the week when you got out of work, and you’d make up some excuse to Thoma as to why you couldn’t walk home together that day.

And you felt bad about it every time you did it, but you also felt like things between you and him had smoothed over in the days following your breakdown, so you didn’t want to risk sabotaging it now.

Though, that still didn’t change the fact that you were lying, and to someone who you most certainly did love, at that.

But it’s not like things between you and Ayato had gone beyond two friends getting to know each other better over boba, right? Even if your heart did flutter a little whenever you saw him and whenever your hands accidentally brushed you felt your stomach do a tiny somersault…

“We should really invite Thoma sometime,” you eventually proposed, when things between you and Ayato seemed right on the verge of crossing over into something a little more than just friends. “I know he likes bubble tea too, what with his sweet tooth and all.” You’d giggled out a melody of lilting, joyfully innocent notes, and Ayato felt his heart leap into his throat, though not for a good reason.

“Yes, perhaps we should…” he responded, careful to upkeep the light tone you two had grown accustomed to using around one another, though his voice still came out a little strained.

Because Ayato didn’t want to share you. Despite the fact that he already was— that you’d been Thoma’s first, after all— the selfishness of someone who was used to always getting what they wanted filled Ayato to the brim, a single, venomous drop of ink turning the crystal clear waters of his heart a deep, dark obsidian.

But maybe his entire problem could be solved if only he could learn to share. It wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure, and the entire prospect could go up in flames the moment he so much as hinted as much to Thoma, but he had to try.

Because if he didn’t, then he might lose you altogether and regret it for the rest of his life.

***

In all the time Ayato had known Thoma, he’d never seen his friend wear such an expression as he did now. He’d gone through a complex range of emotions in just a few seconds, first shock, then anger, then betrayal, then sadness as he’d listened to Ayato confess how he felt about you.

The two had been talking casually, as they normally did, when something had brought up your name and then, before Ayato could stop himself or let his better judgment kick in, he was telling Thoma everything. Even he couldn’t believe he was doing it, each word that left his mouth seeming to bury him deeper, digging out a well to drown his trusted relationship with Thoma in until it was dead in the water.

But then, as Ayato turned more apologetic, admitting that he was only telling Thoma this because of how much he cared for him, how he felt like keeping the secret in the first place was a betrayal in and of itself, the housekeeper seemed to soften a little, become more sympathetic to Ayato’s plight once he remembered that he’d been in the same exact spot as him once before.

“She was yours first…” Ayato acknowledged with a despondent sigh, the sun sinking behind the two of them as they sat on a ledge, half finished boba staining the stones with a dark ring of condensation. “So I don’t intend to get in the way of that. And if you wish for me never to see or speak to her again as I’ve been doing, just say the word and it will be so.”

The way Ayato looked at Thoma then was so pained that it nearly made Thoma flinch. Ayato’s lilac eyes were begging Thoma not to make it so, yet Thoma knew at the same time that the head of the Kamisato clan would honor his promise either way.

“But, Thoma, please…” Ayato continued, his voice now devoid of all its usual regality, more low and trembling than Thoma had ever heard it, had ever thought possible for someone of Ayato’s confidence. “If I can no longer see her, then I need you to promise— to swear that you’ll always be there for her no matter what.”

And then, just as quickly as it had disappeared, the eldest Kamisato’s poise and prestige was back, his posture straightening and his features setting into something more stoic, though it was all just a way for Ayato to cover up how terrified he truly was and regain some semblance of control.

For a while, Thoma didn’t speak. He just sat there, searching Ayato’s expression with those honest emeralds until he’d seemed to have found what he was looking for.

“Ayato…” Thoma began, a hard expression still present on his face. But as he reached over to place a hand comfortingly on his friend’s shoulder, Ayato found he truly had no idea what to expect next. “Listen to me. You and I are going to have a talk, and once that talk is over, if we’re both on the same page, we’ll go and have the same talk with her…”

The more Thoma explained his proposal, the more Ayato felt the aching tightness of anticipated loss in his chest loosen. The idea was certainly unconventional, especially for someone of Ayato’s standing, but, if you were on board, it might be the only way all three of you could end up happy in the end.

So, the two of them made their pact, preparing to approach you together and see if perhaps you’d grant them both the privilege of sharing you, willing to give their precious little sunflower all the warmth and rain she needed to thrive.

***

The proposition of the conversation initially came to you as a shock. The mere idea that both Thoma and Ayato needed to have a serious discussion with you equating to only one thing in your mind— that, despite how much they’d tried to assure you that worse wouldn’t come to worst, you were about to lose your job.

But when that hadn’t turned out to be the case, your dread was quickly drowned out by confusion. Because, if you weren’t in some kind of trouble, then what could possibly be so pressing? Surely not a promotion, you knew you hadn’t done anything significant enough to deserve that. Though, the more you thought about it, the fact that you’d grown so close to your boss recently might say otherwise.

Once they’d said their piece, both of them were patient with you while you sat before them, stunned and, quite frankly, a little embarrassed. You’d never given such a scenario a thought, let alone between your best friend and your boss, but here you were, the two of them staring at you with equal amounts of apology and longing and hope that it all felt like some kind of surreal dream.

You couldn’t help but raise concerns about what your fellow co-workers would think, not to mention with someone of Ayato’s pedigree engaging in such unconventional relations, but they both assured you that the secret would remain safe between the three of you until you worked out a way to make things more public, however long that took.

For you and Thoma, it would be a lot easier, so long as your mutual behavior at work didn’t change too drastically. For Ayato, however, he’d be lying if he said the fact he wouldn’t be able to spend as much time around you out in the open didn’t bother him a bit.

Because Ayato’s heart was like an ice cube not quite frozen, just the tiniest crack causing all of the water within to spill out, hence why he tried so hard to keep it away from the open flame you and Thoma had seemed to carry between your own ribs for so long.

He wouldn’t exactly call it jealousy, per se, but more so on the spectrum of grief, feeling like there would always be a constant reminder of the divide between your two worlds, that you and Thoma were the original matching set and he was just a spare.

And there was something about hearing those words come from Ayato’s own mouth that had broken something inside of you, awoke something inside of you too, and before Ayato had time to process or realize what he’d even just admitted, both you and Thoma were wrapping your arms around him, the three of you holding each other close and fitting together like missing puzzle pieces that had just been reunited.

And you were happy. You were so, so happy. Because, for once, you truly believed everything would work out the way it was meant to be. And soon, you’d be opening your vibrant, golden petals towards the prismic arc of a rainbow.

***

You’d gotten the day off from work. It was a rare occurrence, but one you appreciated all the more for it. Thoma had also been granted a much needed break. He showed up outside your quaint little home at sunset, the two of you walking hand in hand, fingers interlocked and arms lightly swinging between you, as he led you through Inazuma’s lantern lit evening streets and all the way to Ayato’s master bedroom at the Kamisato estate.

It seemed all of the Kamisato Clan’s help had been given a vacation, as neither you nor Thoma saw, heard, or even sensed another living soul within the mansion for possibly the first and only time you could remember. Day or night, the place was usually full of housestaff, always finding more work to be done. But now the house was dark. Quiet. But not eerie. You knew this place well, after all. You had nothing to fear.

“This way we won’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us,” Ayato had explained after letting you and Thoma into his private chambers, still keeping his voice low out of habit for there usually being curious ears eager to listen in. “Plus, by giving everyone the day off, it won’t put any suspicions on either of you if someone noticed you weren’t around.” Ayato gave you a small smile and a reassuring nod as he said this, also adding on that even his sister was away tonight, apparently addressing some business on her brother’s behalf.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Ayato cooed, tenderly cupping your face in his palm and smoothing his thumb along your cheek as he did so, his eyes sparkling with adoration instead of mischief for once. “I’ve taken care of everything.”

But for all the reassurance the eldest Kamisato was trying to give you, you still couldn’t help but feel nervous. You’d never done this with two instead of one, and even then, it had been a while since you’d done this at all.

Thoma hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time, tying himself to you, keeping you tethered to his warmth, and as Ayato took your other hand and the two of them led you towards the plush, king-sized bed, you felt your heart unfurling its wings and fluttering up into your throat.

“Thoma…” Ayato muttered to the blonde beside him, placing an ungloved hand upon his shoulder. “Why don’t you help her feel a little more comfortable while I work on undressing us?”

“Us?” Thoma couldn’t hide his sheer surprise, blushing beet red at the implication. Because, for as much as they’d discussed this new dynamic in relativity to you, one thing Thoma apparently hadn’t taken into account was the part he’d play in this triangle when it came to him and Ayato.

Us…

The more he let that idea sink in, the quicker he was to remember that that’s what the three of you were now. A collective us. And if Thoma and Ayato were to share you, to take care of and satisfy you, then there was absolutely no reason why they couldn’t do that for each other as well.

Thoma gulped down his trepidation, swept his gaze back towards you, and, as Ayato began to shed his own pristine clothing not too far behind him, Thoma knelt before you, taking your hands in his, and offered to answer any questions you might have, any concerns. He was pretty new at this too, but he could try, at least. So long as you felt comfortable and safe, that’s all that really mattered to him.

You and Thoma talked quietly, Ayato’s body half bare as he began his work on freeing Thoma of his clothes. It was strange to see the master of the house attending to someone of his staff in such a way, but nice nonetheless. It proved that here, behind the closed doors of this bedroom at the very least, the three of you were equals, no titles or bloodlines to separate you.

“Just know that we’re gonna take good care of you, ok?” Thoma promised, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead after shrugging free from the undermost layer of his shirt, Ayato tossing the thin black fabric over the back of a chair where his own clothes were draped. “You’re in good hands.”

Your eyes fell upon the two of them, feeling yourself blush at the sight of their bare chests, the way they were both toned with muscle, just in different ways. The two of them truly were like night and day, but, lucky for you, you didn’t have to choose between sun and moon in the instance of an eclipse.

Ayato had the build of someone who trained and sparred regularly. He was slightly taller than Thoma, his shoulders a little broader and speckled with a sparse constellation of beauty marks and moles. Your line of sight traveled further down his torso, tracing the chiseled definition of his abs with your eyes, swallowing hard when your view reached the waistband of his trousers, the way his pale skin stretched thin and taut over sharp hip bones. Ayato looked like he could’ve been carved from marble, the sculptor’s greatest creation, but this didn’t make the man beside him any less alluring to you.

Thoma was more lithe and lean, his skin a little tanner from too many afternoons spent out tending to the gardens in the hot summer sun. His arms were covered with a fine dusting of fair, blonde hairs, a chaotic speckling of light freckles beneath. The same wisps of spun gold snuck out from his waistband and up towards his navel in the thin line of a happy trail. Thoma’s posture was, surprisingly, slightly more relaxed than Ayato’s. He merely appeared as if he were patiently waiting, one of his thick-fingered, calloused hands absentmindedly fidgeting with a loose thread fraying off the article of clothing he was left wearing. He gave you a reassuring smile, his entire body seeming to sigh with adoration as his stance became even more relaxed.

Ayato’s gaze shifted back and forth between you and Thoma, as if trying to gauge whether he should take the lead or not. In hindsight, you’d been a little surprised that he hadn’t taken initiative right from the start. But perhaps that was just another unseen side to him you’d get the chance to explore more in the future.

Even Ayato was learning that those who appeared the most charming and confident could find themselves uncertain sometimes.

Ayato then came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, resting one of his big, gentle hands on your lower back, gazing into your eyes like he was entranced, only removing his stare long enough to flick his eyes towards Thoma again, silently motioning for him to join you both on the bed.

That’s when one hand became two, two hands becoming three as Thoma began to help you out of your own clothes. Three becoming four as Ayato massaged the knots of tension from your shoulders and neck, taking special care of your wrists and hands as he knew how much they craved some care.

It was a reminder for him to not work you so hard— not that your position in the hierarchy of housemaids had been up to him, that assignment had been up to the head housemaid— and to make sure you were given the rest and relaxation you so well deserved when things started to get too busy or stressful. At least Ayato knew Thoma would always be there to support you during the hours he could not, but with that in mind, he was starting to realize perhaps he shouldn’t work Thoma so hard either.

“Go on, Thoma…” Ayato encouraged, applying light pressure to Thoma’s back, urging him closer to you. “It’s only fair…” He leaned in closer to Thoma’s ear, brushing the shell of it with his lips teasingly as he whispered, “She was yours first.”

Again, the heat rose in Thoma’s cheeks like a fire burning to life in its hearth, hoping to still his shaking hands before they found you, reminding himself how long he’d dreamt of this, how long he’d wished for it and willed it into existence. And then he was kissing you, his tongue teasing at the seam of your lips until they parted for him, warm and wanting.

Ayato pulled you back into his lap in the few moments it took for you and Thoma to catch a breath, helping you settle your back against his chest, skin to skin, and letting you lean on him as Thoma moved closer, until his and Ayato’s legs were practically intertwined, and kissed you again, deeper that time, longer, slower, taking his time to explore every inch of your sweet mouth. When he’d discovered all he could there, drinking in every little whine or moan you made, he moved onto your neck, your head resting in the crook of Ayato’s shoulder as Thoma sucked dark bruises into the sensitive flesh of your throat.

Ayato could feel you trembling, already sensing the electric buzz of overstimulation humming through every nerve and vein inside of you as two sets of hands— one calloused and slightly smaller than the other, the second large and slender, soft and deft— began to knead at different parts of your body, never seeming able to hold enough in just their palms.

Ayato massaged gentle circles onto your hips and thighs while Thoma cupped your breasts, lightly pinching one nipple until it elicited a reaction from you, causing you to arch your back a little more and a soft, broken mewl of a cry to escape from your lips, chasing after his touch as your breathing picked up speed, chest rising and falling a little more rapidly than before.

His kisses then ventured lower until his mouth latched onto one of your sensitive, perked little buds, a moan of his own eliciting from the back of his throat as he felt his own arousal swell and his eyes fluttered closed. Your stomach was beginning to flinch, steadily growing painful as it writhed in its desire, but Thoma didn’t stop until he’d given both sides the same thorough treatment. At one point, Ayato had a hand resting on the back of the blonde’s neck, urging him to keep going with you, even if it was with a slight selfish want to watch the two of you like this a little longer, so vulnerable and pleasured.

“Are you ok like this?” Thoma eventually asked before continuing, patient with you as you took a moment to catch your breath and answer. You gave a weak nod, reaching out for him, cradling his cheek in your palm, watching as his emerald eyes— completely enamored— gazed upon you like you were a diamond among stones, so bright and dazzling it could be blinding at times. 

Perhaps he also knew what it was like to be a flower some days, soaking up any light and warmth you’d been willing to give him.

But that’s when the clouds rolled in, a drizzle of rain misting the gardens as Ayato locked eyes with Thoma and gave a gentle, encouraging nod. “It’s ok,” you heard Thoma mutter, shifting his position to lower himself between your legs, which Ayato had hooked over his own, beginning to bear you to Thoma. His touch was tender as it glided across the soft skin of your thighs, gently coaxing them further apart until you were on full display for him, beautiful and glistening. Ayato helped, of course, spreading you further apart when you shyly tried to close your legs again, you turning your head to the side and trying to bury your face in Ayato’s shoulder as a new wave of embarrassment and vulnerability flooded you, one of your hands keeping firmly intertwined in the long strands of sky that cascaded down his neck as if that could anchor you to him.

“I’ve got you…” Thoma said, flicking his gaze back to Ayato for just a moment before locking in on you. “We’ve both got you.”

The first kiss to your fluttering pussy sent a shockwave of chills racing up your spine, blood turning hot and electric as little sparks of pleasure ignited through the very marrow of your bones. You couldn’t help but emit another one of those delicate little whines, the sound of it causing both Ayato and Thoma to grow harder, the press of your back against Ayato’s chest causing your skin’s temperature to increase a few degrees with both of your combined body heat. 

When Thoma started teasing you with his tongue, you almost thought it would be too much, that surely there was no way you’d last long enough to take them both, that you’d go blind with the euphoria. He started out slow, savoring the taste of you, experimenting with different pressures and patterns to find what made you pulse and quiver most, dipping his slick muscle into your fluttering little hole a few times for good measure, his moans vibrating against your cunt whenever he felt your body try and suck him in deeper, your silky walls desperate to be filled with something more.

“Thoma—” you gasped, his name choked out by a broken whisper at the end, both your hands reaching back to grip Ayato’s biceps now, little nails biting shallow crescents into his skin and clinging onto him like he was the only thing currently tethering you to earth. “It’s—” But as he placed a languid, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive clit, another broken cry killed what had remained of your sentence.

“I’ve got you,” you kept hearing Ayato coo, though it sounded distant, muffled and far off and nothing like he was sitting just behind you. “That’s it… I’ve got you… Such a good girl…”

Unrelenting, Thoma continued his assault on your pussy, his face painted in your glistening arousal, the obscenely wet sounds of his mouth and tongue working you up to your first orgasm of the night filling the room and making you dizzy with both lust and embarrassment. But right before you could become too self conscious, he’d send another wave of mind numbing warmth rolling through your core, traveling through your body all the way up to pump more pleasure into your hazy brain.

You swore you couldn’t take much more, at one point were practically begging— though for it to stop or keep going, you didn’t know— but what finally nudged you over that sharp, steep edge was when Ayato reached around with one hand and took one of your nipples between his deft fingers and gave a gentle, teasing squeeze, as if just out of curiosity to discover what they’d feel like, how soft they would be.

The head of the Kamisato clan let out a pleased hum when your back arched against him and you let out another one of those adorable little cries, carefully twisting the sensitive bud of your breast in a way that was now entirely intentional. Pressing his lips right against your ear he whispered, low and sultry, “Oh? Our pretty girl likes that, doesn’t she?” One more ministration and you were coming undone, losing all control of your body, legs spasming and spine arching with a jolt as your mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes rolling back as the feeling coursed through you like a thick, heady drug.

Thoma came away from you with his mouth and chin shining in the dim light, watching your expression melt from tense to tranquil over the passing seconds, captivated, still partially unable to believe this was actually happening and not some kind of extremely vivid and bewitching dream. For a moment, he almost forgot how painfully hard he’d become, a reminding pulse of his own desire making him wince, pulling him back to the matter at hand.

Ayato cast him a half-lidded glance, periwinkle gaze shimmering with mirth and mischief as he continued to gently brush the pads of his fingers against your peaked nipples, keeping you on the cusp of the high while you slowly came down.

It was almost like Thoma was asking for permission from Ayato, as if they hadn’t agreed on all of this beforehand already.

“Go on…” Ayato granted, voice quiet and careful, as if speaking in the same room as someone who’d just drifted off to sleep. “It’s ok, Thoma. She’s ok…”

You were more than ok. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so good, so light, as if you could float outside of your own body and end up on an entirely different plane altogether. When was the last time you’d felt this relaxed? Had you ever? But still you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You could barely even move. All you seemed to be able to do was listen to the rhythm of your own breathing, the steady rise and fall of your chest lulling you until you sensed the shadows behind your closed eyelids shifting, Thoma slowly climbing atop you.

Ayato helped shift you, carefully lowering you further back until you were laying flat on your back. You looked from Thoma to Ayato, seeking the answer to a question you didn’t even know to ask, but they seemed to read your facial expression then, quick to rush in and give reassurances.

“It’s alright…” Ayato sighed, taking your hands in his and pressing them lightly into the mattress on either side of your head, just holding them, gently stroking his thumb across the thin, delicate skin of your wrists.

“I’ll go slow,” Thoma said, pulling your attention back to him, his slender silhouette engulfing you from above. “I promise…” He kissed the tip of your nose. Ayato felt you tense slightly as your grip around his hands flexed. Thoma pressed a kiss to your jaw, down your neck, your collar bone, shoulder, chest, retracing the path his lips had traveled previously as if he’d already memorized it. His voice was resolute, reverent, all the while laced through with that edge of care and concern as he said, “I’m gonna take really good care of you.”

You believed him even without him saying it. You’d never had a reason to doubt that. Not with him. And even when a small pang of apprehensive fear flared inside you as he freed his aching cock and pressed it against your dripping cunt, you still trusted him. 

“You need to prep her, Thoma,” Ayato suddenly reminded him, watching the blonde with something hungry and almost vulture-like, patiently awaiting his turn as he held back his envy. Envy that Thoma would get to have you first, even though that was only fair. Ayato didn’t resent him for it, but still, he couldn’t help the small part of him that wished otherwise. “Here, let me…”

Thoma let out a choked whimper, so close to getting to feel you in full he almost couldn’t take it. And as tempted as he was to ignore Ayato’s request and give into his own selfishness, he obliged. When Ayato appeared before you next to Thoma, your hands had nothing left to grip but the sheets. Thoma was flustered and eager. Ayato appeared calm and serene as ever, though that mask would soon chip away.

You felt one long finger glide through the petals of your dewy folds before slowly sinking into your hole, then two, a sensation a little foreign but not entirely uncomfortable as Ayato began to pump them in and out, occasionally scissoring them inside of you only to feel you try and suck him in deeper, your eager cunt clutching his digits with a vengeance.

That was when Ayato’s careful mask of control cracked to reveal something more akin to unbridled desire beneath.

“That’s a good girl…” Ayato sighed as your body stirred back to life, lazily writhing atop the tousled sheets as you felt that familiar pressure begin to build again. “Now you’ll be ready to take Thoma so well…”

It wasn’t long before Thoma was leaning over you again, his and Ayato’s murmured exchange of words lost to you amidst the lustful haze. Though, you did hear him when he spoke directly to you, his voice breathy and sweet, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby… Promise…” right before you felt the blushing tip of him catch on your sensitive little hole.

You let out a hiss as the first inch nestled itself into your tight, wet warmth, the sting of the stretch not entirely unpleasant, but definitely enough to jolt some of your senses back to reality. You heard Thoma’s breath catch, a strained gasp stuck halfway up his throat as he slid in a little further, all the while Ayato stood behind him and pressed languid kisses to Thoma’s neck and shoulder, running his fingertips over the toned expanse of the blonde’s torso.

Once Thoma was all the way inside you, you wincing as he brushed against your cervix, you both took a moment to catch your breath. Then, Thoma began to move.

Every roll of his hips seemed to hit you just right, sparks of pleasure shooting up that taut string stretching up through your core and a delicate moan leaving your lips as he began to pick up speed. Thoma was biting his lip, trying to keep his gaze on you but having to squeeze his eyes shut sometimes when your cunt gripped his length like a vice. He couldn’t help but let out his own melodic moans, the sounds he made almost as beautiful as yours.

Ayato had taken to sitting back and watching you both, enjoying the music you made together, his cock already painfully hard as he began to palm himself, the silk pillows cradled around him shifting out of place as he threw his head back and tried to hold out.

You both looked so gorgeous on display like that. Vulnerable and euphoric. Raw.

Ayato couldn’t wait to see what view you’d provide when he was the one looking down on you.

You were gripping Thoma’s shoulders now, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch as he reached the peak of his pace, both of you singing in tandem with pleasure until your trembling legs seized, locking around his waist, and your back bowed off the bed, mouth hung open in another silent scream as you came undone for Thoma yet again.

It was hardly a moment later before Thoma was curling over you and finishing himself, trying to stay coherent so he could savor this sensation, this memory, as he filled you to the brim with his warm, sticky seed.

Both of you were breathing hard, panting out short, shallow little breaths into each other’s necks as you kept your bodies pressed close together, as if you could stay in that moment forever so long as you were still enough.

Ayato had to force himself to assert control over his own desires for just a little longer, removing his hand from himself and trying to focus back on you. But as you and Thoma’s chests returned to a slower, deeper rise and fall rhythm, Ayato pushed off from the bed.

He’d been plenty patient in waiting.

Now, it was his turn.

“How do you both feel?” Ayato asked as he came to sit on the edge of the bed closest to you. Thoma was still nestled deep inside you, his cock softening yet reluctant to leave the lovely warmth your body provided. But he knew his time was up. It wasn’t fair to keep you all for himself. That had been the deal. So, slowly, carefully, he pulled out of you, choking on a whine as some of his balmy whiteness leaked out of your pretty little hole, dripping down your ass and threatening to make a mess of the sheets.

Thoma went to swipe some of it away with his fingers but Ayato stopped him, gripping his wrist and giving him a playfully chiding look. “Don’t,” he stated, as if he’d read Thoma’s mind. “Let it stain.”

So used to taking his master’s orders, Thoma obeyed, stepping back and trading places with Ayato, who now assumed position over you.

“How’s our pretty girl doing, hm…?” Ayato cooed, so soft and safe that Thoma nearly didn’t recognize the voice as belonging to him. But what had actually caught him the most off guard was the word he’d used.

Our.

As in, belonging to both Ayato and Thoma.

The Kamisatos had never wanted for anything and had always had the power to take what they wished to claim for their own. Never had Thoma ever thought Ayato would be willing to share such a valuable rarity with the likes of his housekeeper. Not when there was only one. Not when it was you.

But he was.

And now it was Thoma’s turn to watch and trust that his friend would honor their deal when all was said and done. That Ayato would still be willing to share you even after he’d gotten a taste for himself.

You were just barely coming to when Ayato was staring down at you, haloed by the glowing moonlight, pale blue locks cascading over his broad, toned shoulders, skin glowing like a comet’s tail.

“Think you can go again, sweetheart?” Ayato asked, the question just above a whisper, as if murmuring a secret to you. And, for a moment, he feared he might not get to experience you at all. He feared you might’ve already had enough for one night and he’d be forced to finish himself off and wait until you were recovered to resume where things had left off. But all that fear disappeared once you gave a wobbly nod, reaching for him, wanting to pull him closer.

Ayato leaned down to meet you, his lips teasingly brushing against your own, letting you feel him smile against you, a mischievous little hum lilting in his throat. He pulled back a fraction, taking a devious satisfaction when you whined and tried to close the gap. He was going to have so much fun playing with you, learning how far to push you, how much you’d try and push back. But, for now, he gave you what you wanted.

When his mouth met yours, Ayato swore he could still taste Thoma on your tongue, something sugary sweet mingled in with your saliva that was unmistakably him.

Deepening the kiss, Ayato left you breathless, had you getting lost in the sensation. He could’ve kissed you for hours, kissed you until he forgot his own name.

But that would also have to wait for a later time, it seemed. Right now, there were more pressing matters at hand.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, gripping your hips to slide you further down the bed towards him. His strength was effortless, gracefully regal in its own right. He placed a big hand between your shoulder blades and slowly lifted you up a little, seeing the curiosity glittering in your gaze as you stared up at him, an unspoken question forming on your tongue.

“I think I want to try something a little different,” he told you, voice still soft and cautious. Then, with one of those subtle, charming smiles he asked, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded again, knowing that, whatever he had in mind, it would benefit you both.

Ayato shifted you so that you were straddling him, his hard cock poised and at the ready just inches below your sore little entrance, both of you sitting upright and facing each other. Your hands held his shoulders for purchase, able to feel all that lean muscle coiled beneath pale skin, while his hands made quick work of positioning you both for what came next.

With one, he guided his cock towards your hole, with the other, he kept a firm hold on one of your hips, helping you to sink down on his length, every velvety inch of him sliding deeper into your slick heat as you let out a few whimpers and your grip on his shoulders tightened.

Ayato felt different than Thoma, though no less pleasant. He filled you in a way that made you wince, stretching you just a little wider than Thoma had, but not quite sending those shooting jolts of pain to your core like when Thoma had brushed against your cervix. He was certainly close though, and once you got moving you’d be prepared for the pain.

He waited for you to catch your breath, let you slump against his chest as he stroked languid lines up and down your spine to try and help you relax, and once you’d seemed to adjust, he moved his hands to grip your both sides of your hips, beginning to help you bounce on his cock.

Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head before long, mouth agape with panting huffs and silent pleasure, Ayato’s strained moans punctuating the air. Thoma was once again entranced, watching the two of you with a dazed sort of reverence.

Thoma had been so gentle, so sweet and servicing, but Ayato held more of a dominance over you. Though, again, to choose one over the other wouldn’t have been easy for you. Good thing, you kept remembering, you got to have both.

“That’s it—” he told you, all prior control and elegance gone from his voice now, only left over with the raw vulnerability of pure animal desire. “That’s a good girl— Just like that— Fuck…”

Hearing the swear leave his lips had your legs trembling again, on the edge of being plunged beneath the surface of so much mind-numbing pleasure. Ayato was holding out, nearly getting lost in his own lust as the intoxicating clench of your cunt around his length made him see stars, but the moment you went tense with the height of your orgasm, silky walls squeezing around him the tightest they had yet, Ayato couldn’t wait anymore.

He lost any and all control he had left and filled you with his own sticky warmth, your quivering form slowly going slack against him, now entirely spent.

“Archons, baby…” Ayato sighed, holding you in his strong arms like you were the only thing in the entire world that mattered to him. The only thing he’d ever wanted. He briefly met eyes with Thoma who already looked halfway to getting hard again and beckoned him closer with a loose wave of his hand.

Thoma approached, already expecting orders, but instead what happened was Ayato gently wove his fingers through the short hair at Thoma’s neck and guided him closer until their foreheads were touching, resting against each other in a silent pact.

A promise.

After a while, Thoma starting to feel a little self conscious, he began to say, “I should go get something to clean us up with,” but Ayato stopped him before he could finish the suggestion with a shake of his head.

Carefully, he pulled out of you, both him and Thoma helping to lay you back on the bed and fluffing the pillows, adjusting them until you were most comfortable. You were so full from both Thoma and Ayato you swore you could feel it in your tummy, a whine escaping you as you felt their combined pleasure dribbling out of you, the cool night air hitting your soaked pussy and sending a shiver up your spine.

Thoma pulled one of the sheets over your form, and before long you were already dozing off. Once you were settled, Ayato finally said, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his lips, “You stay here with her. I’ll take care of the cleaning up for once.”

Thoma went to interject and insist that he could do it— that he should do it— but Ayato wouldn’t hear of it. And so Thoma lay next to you in bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the flutter of your lashes while he waited for Ayato to return.

“Do you know how long I dreamt of this?” Thoma murmured, his voice barely detectable to you amidst the pleasure-fueled high of your slumbering daze. “Of you. Of us…” He sounded as if he were gliding through a dream, glazed over with pure adoration and only a little disbelief. Then, after the length of a few more of your slow, peaceful breaths, “I just could’ve never imagined it would feel so much better than anything I ever could’ve thought up. The during…” He propped himself up on one elbow, gingerly pressed a tender kiss to your sweet little forehead. “And the after…”

Ayato returned with a basin of warm water and a bundle of silky cloth. He handed one to Thoma and they both got to the careful and meticulous work of cleaning you up. You stirred upon their touch, both of them murmuring lulling words to you as you blinked open bleary eyes. When they were done taking care of their most special girl, Ayato wrapped you in his finest, softest robe and Thoma tucked you into bed, making you a spot in the middle among all the silk sheets and satin pillows, looking like a princess amidst all the fabric finery.

Ayato went to clean Thoma next, unable to suppress a smile as he caught his housekeeper blushing brighter shades of red the further down his body his careful, tentative hands traveled. He thought about letting him off the hook, but it seemed his habit of teasing him couldn’t resist.

“Feeling shy now, are we? After everything we’ve done?”

An embarrassed squeak crawled up Thoma’s throat as he opened his mouth to speak. Then he stammered out an adorably defensive, “N-no, it’s just— I’ve never had someone— And you of all people— I—”

Ayato Kamisato silenced his nervousness with one of those deviously charming chuckles, a low hum of mirth trailing off the end. “You should get used to others taking care of you for once, Thoma,” he lightly chastised. “Besides, if we’re to keep doing this I can’t have you feeling ashamed. The two of us agreed to share her but…” Ayato stood from where he’d been kneeling, finishing with his work of the mess that had been glazed over Thoma’s skin. He straightened to his full height, considering his housekeeper with a look that was almost pleading. “Would it be so bad if we partook in each other from time to time as well?”

Thoma flushed beet red from his chest all the way to the tips of his ears, averting his eyes from the taller man and nervously worrying his lip between his teeth. Of course he wouldn’t mind that. Him and Ayato had been close enough even before tonight that the consideration wasn’t entirely implausible. But to say it out loud…

That was a different bridge to cross.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Ayato suggested, seeming not to mind that Thoma was hesitating. There would be plenty of later opportunities to revisit and develop their new relationship and all the different dynamics of it. For once, Ayato Kamisato was content with being patient. He then nodded towards you, both of their eyes falling on your form. Your eyes were still barely open, watching them as if they were familiar, benevolent ghosts that appeared before the foot of your bed every night. “Poor thing’s had quite the exhausting night. Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

And with that, Thoma and Ayato climbed into bed to join you, both of them snuggling up to you at your request, reducing your trio of warm, sated bodies to a loose tangle of tired limbs and synchronized breathing.

As you fell asleep between them, you briefly reflected on your initial hesitation of being shared. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle it, whether physically, emotionally, or both. But now, after placing your trust in their hands, after experiencing how gently they’d treated you, how attentive they’d been, well…

Now you couldn’t imagine things any other way.

***

(Hello and thank you so much for reading! I sincerely hope you enjoyed! <3

I actually started this fic over a year ago but kept putting off finishing it, so I’m glad to have it done and concluded in a way I’m pretty satisfied with. I’ve loved Thoma and Ayato ever since I first played Inazuma so I’m glad I’ve finally been able to write a fic featuring both of them.

Anyway, thank you so so much once again for reading. I hope you have a wonderful day and do something kind for yourself. See you next time! Byyyyeee~!)

[sugoi-writes]

Laundry Day: Sanemi X F!Reader

Tw: Olfactophilia/osmolagnia (sniffing/smelling kinks linked to body odor), F!Reader that is a Hashira (breathing style/appearance not specified). Implied and stated dirty thoughts, pining from the reader, ending in a more mutual pining.

A/N: This brain worm needed to be born. Hopefully I can crank out the 2nd chapter soon that'll be nice and smutty. Yall enjoy ><

Hashira meetings were efficient, in more ways than one. If there wasn't something that required immediate attention, there were many things that could be said and done at Ubuyashiki Manor.

One of the biggest things to tackle? Laundry.

The life of a Demon Slayer, especially a Hashira, was a grueling and gross endevour. And more times than not, laundry was the biggest task to overcome on days with extended down time.

To make this burden easier, the Hashiras would often rotate out 2 or 3 slayers at a time to help each other catch up on laundry. As bonus, this would free up other Hashira's time to run other errands or take some time to themselves. This time was no exception.

During this cycle, Mitsuri was to attend to women's uniforms, while Sanemi was in charge of the men's.

Being a hashira yourself, you never really minded laundry much. And, you knew that Mitsuri HATED doing it all alone...

So there you were, strolling up to the usual room where yours, Shinobu's, and Mitsuri's laundry would be. And as you were nearing the door, you take a brief pause. You felt something was a little... off...

As you stood by the sliding door, you didn't see Mitsuri's visage... but Sanemi's. This was strange, because you knew for a fact that the men's washroom was a completely seperate room.

You were concentrating intently, ensuring that you weren't detectable. Luckily, your breathing technique helped to make sure your footsteps were silent.

The sliding door was cracked, which saved you the trouble of having to open it yourself... And now, you were faced with an interesting sight.

Mitsuri and Shinobu's clothing were left in their packs, seemingly untouched... but yours was dumped onto the floor next to the wash bin. He was stooped over it all, rummaging. You were a little unnerved, but couldn't help but feel your chest tighten.

It certainly wasn't a secret that you had pined for Sanemi... but... why now, was HE the one being secretive around you and your things?

And that's when you saw it. You nearly gasped when he found a pair of your undergarments. Your face heated up as he looked to them, running a calloused finger over the delicate fabric that you wore just a day or so ago.

And, before you could even process it, you saw him bring it closer to his face, and inhale deeply. Your mouth hung open, throat parched. You felt the awkward impulse to look away, but you couldn't help yourself... it was like watching a house fire: you simply couldn't look away.

You felt yourself become even more flustered as you watched the imaginary weight fall off of Sanemi' shoulders. His expression was hard to read, but you did notice his expression softening, especially in his eyes. Before something darker clouded them... a murkiness you hadn't seen before.

You see him take a pause, before looking toward the sliding door curiously. You panic, backing away with a start. But for what it's worth, he didn't seem to see you.

You hear a sigh, and some shuffling, before Sanemi's footsteps approach the sliding door. Your mind races, and your body immediately launches into full stealth mode. You practically flung yourself around the corner, crouching low to the ground to wait for him to exit.

You hear Sanemi enter the hallway, before turning the other way. Surely he was heading towards the men's washroom... or his own room.

Your mind was racing, still reeling from what you saw-- or at least what you thought you saw??

But who were you kidding!!! There's only one reason he'd do something like that with undergarments like that... USED ones, in fact.

You felt yourself sinking all the way to the floor, stooping over as you hold your flushed face. Sanemi was definitely a bit perverted... there's not a doubt in your mind about that. HOWEVER: you needed to know if this stimmed past you to the other Hashiras.

For a moment, you felt uneasy, knowing that Mitsuri and Shinobu would honestly kick his ass for this... but, your heart still fluttered at the thought that maybe, JUST maybe, he was secretly burning for you, too. And only for you.

You could barely contain yourself. The curiosity was killing you. You had to know the answer as soon as possible, or it'd eat you alive.

You waited a minute or two, to ensure you didn't see or hear anyone else, before briskly entering the laundry room.

While you're there, you may as well help Mitsuri get the laundry going... you start to sort the piles of clothes from the 3 Hashira's batches. And once you've fully sorted yours, you reached the conclusion you feared (maybe hoped for?)...

A pair of your underwear, for sure, was gone... BUT: Mitsuri's and Shinobu's remained untouched.

You didn't know whether to sigh in relief, or slap yourself silly. Your face was heating up again as you shuffled over to the washing basin. Maybe clearing your mind can help you rationalize things, and help you figure out how to confront your male peer.

You curse aloud, remembering that you'd still need to grab some water from the spring nearby--

"Oiiii~ someone there?" You hear suddenly, a familiar, sing songy voice cutting through your internal dialogue. You smile brightly as Mitsuri walks in, two large buckets of water in her arms.

"A-Ahh! Mitsuri-san! Thanks for bringing that in. I was actually coming to help you out a bit...," you stammer. But to your credit, you weren't lying.

Mitsuri all too happily dumps the water into the scrubbing basin and rinsing basin, giddy as she goes to hug you," Aww, I should be thanking you! You have everything already sorted! You've always been so sweet, Y/N-chan!" You laughed as Mitsuri nuzzles your cheek with her own, squeezing you tightly before pulling back.

"Well then, I'll gladly take the help! It'll be really nice to catch up with you too, after all this time Y/N-chan~!"

---

After all the gossiping and scrubbing you've done, you hope to not lift a finger for the rest of the evening. But, watching the clothing billow in the summer heat made you feel accomplished.

Everything was hung and drying nicely, with hopes of being ready for tomorrow morning.

Mitsuri thanks you again for a job well done, and gives you the last of her sakura mochi to snack on (much to your protest). After bidding her well, you start to head to your room to relax until dinner.

As you continue on, your mind starts to wander again. Your eyelids grow heavy as the images run wild in your head. Sanemi didn't just take them by accident, no... he wanted them. He may have other plans with your undergarments, too...

Was it just a passing phase or an accident? A dare by Tengen? Trophies???

Your face turns a light pink at the thought. No, no, no... the way he breathed in and relaxed like that... was he-- would he--??

Your internal rambling was cut short, as you run face first into a firm chest. You reel back, reflexively apologizing before you tensing up. Sanemi was looking down at you, a half-hearted snarl on his face.

"Watch it, shortstack," he gruffs, curtly side stepping around you. You hesitate a moment, before turning a full 180.

"H-Hey!!! I actually... wanted to talk to you!" You blurt," I-Its urgent!"

Sanemi pauses, turning around to face you," Hah? About what?," he retorts, his eyes leering at you. You could feel his intensity more than usual, making you almost squirm under his gaze.

"A-Actually... I wanted to talk more... privately. I want to be discreet," you rasp out, trying to find your voice again. Why were you getting so shy now?!? HE should be the one that's embarrassed!!!

Sanemi huffs," Just bring it up at the meeting," he says dismissively, turning away," I'm sure whatever it is can wait until after dinner--"

Impulsively, you go to grab his arm, and in the blink of an eye, he has you by your wrist, halting your attempt to grab him. Both of you look to each other, one firmly and the other with a scowl.

"...Sanemi-san... for your sake, I would rather keep things... b-between us, for now. It's something... the others don't need to know about," you nearly whisper, though your tone is much more firm than before.

You look up to him, a glint of mischief in your eyes," It's a secret, if you'll have me..."

Sanemi, now seemingly interested, decides to let go of your wrist, turning towards you again,"... hmph. Well, I'm listening."

You sigh in exasperation, before shoving him playfully," Not here, dumbass!!! Somewhere more private!!" You spit back, your face hot and scrunched up.

Sanemi is quick to notice this, but also knows that the shove wasn't too serious. He sighs dramatically," Fine, fine... let's go to my room, then. It's around the corner," he states flatly, walking towards your destination. You're rolling your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. As if you didn't know where his room was. Wait... were you being a creep, too--!?

Your heart was thumping audibly in your chest, and it took a decent bit of concentration to calm yourself down. Ugh, this was a bad idea! An AWFUL idea!! You knew Sanemi's temper and how easily he gets worked up...

What was he gonna say if you confront him? Was he gonna flip out? Deny it to your face? Or would things take a more favorable route for you?

Your heart yearned for the latter, as the door to his room slid open. He stands to the side to let you in first, before following behind you. You hear the door come to a close, and an audible 'click' of the door being locked into place.

You were still facing away from him, calming yourself as you hear Sanemi sit on the floor.

"Might as well make yourself at home, since you wanna talk so badly...," Sanemi offers, though you didn't want to get that comfy just yet. You fiddled with the edge of your haori, before breathing in deeply.

You hold your breath for a moment, and exhale. Breathe... you're a Hashira, dammit. You deal with MUCH more troublesome things in your daily life.

You turn around after steeling yourself, and Sanemi is giving you a puzzled look. He gestures to the mat across from him, and you nod courteously as you finally go to take your seat.

Your eyes wander for a moment around the room. It's been a few hours since you've seen him steal your things... where would he hide it? The dresser to your right? In his own laundry bag? In his tatami--??

"Are you just gonna oggle at this room all day, or did you actually have something important to say?," Sanemi grunts pointedly, his eyes locked on you. He can sense something important was on your mind, but he couldn't get a clear read. So you'd have to take the lead on this, after all.

You sighed heavily again, your face heating up as you try to think of the best way approach this. Knowing Sanemi, he doesn't like beating around the bush.

"W-Well, Sanemi-san...," you start quietly, voice hardly above a whisper," I, uhm... was helping Mitsuri around the manor today..."

You notice Sanemi quirk one of his brows up at you, seemingly confused," Okay...?"

"A-And of course, with most of us having the evening free to spend the night here, I knew Mitsuri was gonna be doing the laundry, specifically hers, mine, and Shinobu's."

Sanemi's eye twitches. There it is.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, sitting fully upright," A-And... all was going well, but... I noticed something a little off."

Sanemi was silent, waiting for you to continue. He was neither confirming nor denying anything at the moment.

You look to him, face hot and eyes intense, knowing you had a foot in the door,"... I know that I'm missing some of my things. I also know... that you were helping the other Hashira out with their laundry, too," you added, mentioning your male peers.

Sanemi scoffs, crossing his arms," Oh yeah? And are you accusing me of having something to do with your clothes being missing?," he retorts, his eyebrows still raised.

You clamp your fists tightly in your lap, your face shifting to a bright red," I-It's actually not a hunch, y'know...," you state calmly, trying not to crack under his gaze.

"...I know you took them. Because I saw you do it."

Silence.

A silence so thick, that you could carve it with your nichirin blade. You saw Sanemi's face visibly change, his incredulous expression being replaced with one of bewilderment and shock.

"I'm not sure I'm following here... I never touch the women's laundry," Sanemi snaps," Only the men's. And that's already gross enough," he adds, scowling.

You hold your ground, though your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You had no choice...

You immediately spout out a description of your undergarments. Down to the color and what the fabric was. The rips and frays it had... Sanemi didn't want to admit it... but he knew EXACTLY what you meant. You see his expression falter and shift again.

"... and here's the thing, Sanemi-san," you continue, scooting closer to the platinum haired man across from you.

"When I checked Shinobu and Mitsuri's laundry, neither of them were missing a thing. So it begs the question... why mine? And why did you take it with you?"

By this point, you were hardly a foot away, and sitting point-blank in front of him. Between this and your position between the door, Sanemi had a physical barrier between him and the exit... He wasn't getting out of this so easily.

You notice his eye twitch again, his cheeks tinging a dusty rose color. He narrows his gaze at you, tsking" I'm telling you, I wouldn't do something like that-- I didn't touch your damn stuff," he says defensively," Not to mention, thats a bold statement coming from my junior, Y/N-san--"

"I am neither your junior, nor being bold. We're the same rank, and I'm just stating facts," you snap back flatly, leaving him no room to budge.

Sanemi huffs in annoyance, not breaking eye contact with you for a second.

"Fine... while you're also a Hashira, you're also one of the newest..." Sanemi admits, as he leans closer. Your eyes widen, internally panicking as Sanemi inches closer.

"...and suppose that someone did go through your things, Y/N. And that Mitsuri's and Shinobu's stuff was untouched..."

His face was almost unbearably close, close enough to where you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Maybe he wasn't the only one who felt like they were on the hot seat right now...

"... what then, Y/N? What would you think about that?"

Your lip quivers at how low his voice gets. The way that Sanemi says this, it's like he's fully admitting to his little deed. Maybe he was egging you on...

And it certainly didn't take much to do so.

You hold yourself firmly, taking a quick glance to his lips before making eye contact again. While your throat was completely dry, you felt like you were practically drooling.

With how close you were to him, you were able to fully admire his features you liked the most about him...

The warmth radiating off of his body was just inviting you in...you felt yourself losing your resolve to hold back.

" I'd think...this person may be fixated on me, I'd suppose. But most of all, I'd be glad..."

You reach a hesitant hand upward, going to rest it on Sanemi's chest. You could feel his heart pumping steadily underneath his broad chest... knowing that it was racing just as much as yours.

Sanemi makes no sudden movements, but that hazy look you saw from before was starting to return to his eyes as you were nearly a careless brush away from his lips.

"...I'd be glad... because I've had eyes on you too, Sanemi."

[chvoswxtch]

hi! i’m not sure if you write for requests?

if you do, would you mind writing frank castle x f!reader with fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue? i’m just exhausted at the moment and every single one of my chronic illnesses are kicking my butt rn. i’m finding great comfort in the punisher series on disney+ and in your writing (the softer side of frank especially!)

thank you!!! 💘

first of all I just wanted to say I am so sorry you are struggling with that. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. i'm sending you so much comfort and so many hugs and I hope you've been feeling a little better lately. it makes me incredibly happy to know that i've helped in some way.

I don't really have any personal experience with chronic illness but I did some research and I hope I got this right for you. thank you so much for your request. I hope this is what you wanted, and I hope it makes you feel better angel. all my love ❤️

this doesn't really have any warnings (unless you wanna count swearing) but if you're on dark mode, you may have trouble viewing this. i'm not sure if the glitch has been fixed, but I apologize for any inconvenience reading in advance! word count: 1.4k

i'd do anything for you.

Frank could tell something was wrong the second he stepped through the front door. If it weren’t for your car in the driveway, he wouldn’t have even been able to tell that you were home. Normally you were quick to greet him with a soft kiss and a beaming smile before he could even get his boots off. On the occasions you were too engrossed in whatever you were doing to hear him come in, he could still hear your faint humming or you shuffling around whatever room you were in. But right now, the entire house was silent and still, and panic began to rise like a looming tide.

Instinctively his hand flew to the handle of the gun that was tucked in the waistband of his jeans, making slow calculated steps around each room of the house as his eyes darted back and forth frantically searching for any sign of a threat or disturbance. The door to the bedroom was creaked open slightly, just enough for Frank to peek inside, and the sight before him sent a crack right through his heart. There you were, curled up tightly in a ball in the middle of the bed, clutching his pillow to your chest. Your brows were knit together in discomfort and your entire face was scrunched up in agony. Frank could see how the skin of your knuckles had gone white from gripping the pillow so hard. It hurt him to see you like this. Every time he did, he wished he could take it all from you and endure it himself. 

He pushed the door open slowly so it wouldn’t make any noise and kept his steps light as he made his way over towards the bed, carefully sitting down behind you. He delicately brushed his fingertips along your arm, cautiously leaning over you to get a better look at your face as he whispered.

“Bad today?”

You nodded your head so faintly, he wouldn’t have even seen it if he hadn’t been watching you closely. Less movement was best when the pain set in and spread through your bones with a vengeance. You had once described it to Frank as your entire body feeling like a searing, open wound. No matter how carefully you moved, it was like ripping it open all over again. The ache throbbed seemingly with every pump of blood through your veins. It made it hard for you to sleep. It was extremely difficult to get comfortable when you were in a constant state of pain, and the fatigue seemed to make the pain even worse. 

“How ‘bout a bath, honey? Hot water will help soothe those muscles, help ya relax a bit. Wanna give it a try?”

Frank did his best to ask yes or no questions when it was really bad like this. The less you had to think, or speak, the better. He kept his voice quiet and low, and tried not to talk too much. Frank had discovered it was helpful to get rid of anything that might overload your senses in your tender state. Too much light or lighting that was too bright bothered your eyes. Too many noises and loud volumes hurt your ears. Anything too bold in smell could implement a migraine. Every little thing was like a tiny pin prick to your nerves.

“Please.”

The way your voice broke nearly brought Frank to his knees. He wasn’t a religious man anymore, but he would’ve prayed to God until his knees bled if he thought it would help, or if he thought God would listen and allow him to trade places with you instead. He gave your shoulder the faintest of squeezes to let you know he heard you before he made his way into the bathroom. He turned the knob all the way over as far as it would go, knowing the sting of the scalding water would help alleviate some of the affliction you felt. He lit the candle on the counter and placed it at the front of the tub so he could keep the lights off. 

Steam hung thickly in the air once the tub was full. Droplets of sweat had already formed at Frank’s hairline, but he didn’t pay any mind to the heat. He peeled your clothes off as slowly and delicately as he could, gently scooping you up into his arms as he carried you into the bathroom. He lowered you down into the water carefully, a soft hiss leaving your lips as you adjusted to the temperature. Frank knelt down beside the tub, keeping a light hold of your hand as he eyed you.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded your head with a little more force this time, giving his large hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Feels really good.”

“Need anything?”

“Just you.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Will you get in with me? Please?”

Frank lightly brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. He could see the pleading look in your eyes through the dim amber glow the candle cast over the bathroom. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to join you, but your condition had him faltering.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, honey. Just want you to try and relax.”

“You won’t hurt me, I promise. I’d relax a lot more with you. Please?”

Frank couldn’t handle the exertion in your voice. He also hated denying you anything. In record time, he was completely undressed and settling into the tub behind you. A soft sigh left your lips when your head fell back against his chest, and he brought his hands up to tenderly rub at your shoulders to try and massage any lingering aches away.

“Is it too hot for you?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart.”

“I want you to be comfortable too.”

“Baby, I spent years in a damn desert in full gear gettin’ shot at and nearly blown up. And I didn’t have a pretty girl to keep me company. Trust me, I’m comfortable.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips, and that sent a surge of relief through Frank. Laughing was good. Laughing meant you were feeling better. Laughing meant he was actually doing something right. There were so many times Frank felt incredibly helpless when it came to your chronic illnesses, and he hated it. He loathed that feeling. Seeing the person you love in pain, completely exhausted, and not being able to do anything about it. Threats he could handle. He was trained to eliminate those. He’d give his life to protect you. But he couldn’t fight an invisible enemy. He couldn’t eliminate a threat he couldn’t see, or even touch. He couldn’t rescue you from your own body.

“Thank you.”

Frank dropped his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, still being careful with his movements as he pressed his cheek to yours and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Don’t gotta thank me, you know that.”

“I want to. You always help me. You always know how to make me feel better. I know I ask a lot of you, and it isn’t-”

“Hey, don’t do that. I’m here ‘cause I wanna be, you got that? Don’t start that shit about bein’ a handful. If anyone’s the damn handful here, it’s me. You take care of me, and I take care of you. That’s how this works, yeah?”

A defeated sigh left your lips as you sank further into the relief of the water and Frank’s chest.

“Yeah. But I still appreciate everything you do for me that you don’t have to.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

Frank lightly brushed his nose along your cheek, holding you to his chest until quiet snores sounded from you. He smiled to himself when he realized you had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to risk moving you in case this was the only sleep you were gonna get tonight. He stayed there in the tub with you until the water went cold and the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. He would’ve held you there as long as you needed him to if it meant he could offer you a sliver of peace. He’d do anything for you.

[imnotsimpingyouare]

ENAMORED (III)

Modern Hantengu clones x Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny YouTube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will not be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because:

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

We're going with Zohakuten to school :D not really but like yk

I decided to give the bb a little crush because him trying to figure himself out would be so funny 💀

Also fem!Y/N gets a date with the mystery criminal man 🤨

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Zohakuten shut the car door, feeling triumphant. Guess who's getting ice cream after school? Equally as good as getting a rise out of his teachers.

He wandered into the building, fashionably on time for once. The bell rang right as he stepped in, and all of the kids began heading to class. The main hall was.. huge, to say the least. Two sets of stairs surrounded a balcony over the cafeteria, and to his left were halls sprouting in different directions. The green and white checkered floor squeaked with all of the shoes walking on it.

Zohakuten's first class was Mathematics, the worst class. Well, they were all insufferable, but Math was the worst.

He walked through a hall to his left, passing the music rooms on the way. Some of the rooms he passed were smaller with sound-proof glass doors, sometimes with stands and chairs set up in them. He never bothered to look, but he stopped at one when he heard the sound of a piano.

A girl sat there, her brown hair covering her face. Her fingers danced on the keys, and Zohakuten leaned closer to the glass to listen. Suddenly, her phone lit up, and she looked his way.

Oh no.

In an instant, he goes into fight or flight mode, choosing to fight his way to victory. He tosses his phone onto the ground, bending down to pick it up.

Will she fall for that?

Beads of sweat form on his forehead when he looks up and sees the girl completely unphased and wearing an unreadable expression.

Okay, now it's time to run.

The day was only getting started.

○○○○○

The old man stared at you for a moment.

"Amazing! When will you come to stay?" He said in his trembling voice.

"Umm, I don't know. I'm not nearly done here, and I still have to pack and move all my things..." You begin, but he hushes you.

"Nonononono, sweet girl, I will send my sons to help you move. They could use the work out. Especially that one," He says, pointing a shaking scrawny finger at Karaku, who is standing there with his mouth agape.

"I didn't sign up for this, I've got business to do today." He says, crossing his arms.

"The boy will help you," he says, before wandering away in the direction he came.

Your face flushes when Karaku turns to look at you. "I'm sorry. You don't have to help me, I don't have that many things in the first place." You say, gathering your supplies to move to the next area of the home.

His green eyes linger on you for a moment, and before he can say anything you've already shuffled out of the room with your stuff in your hands.

Not like he'd hate helping a woman like yourself out anyway. He only laughed to himself, before turning in his bunny slippers and slinking away to his room.

○○○○○

Zohakuten arrived fashionably late to class, as per usual. The teacher didn't even seem to care anymore, having already marked him as tardy.

He sat at his desk. There were a little less than 30 kids in the class, and all of them were shitheads. They all talked and grouped up without him. Although he was on *good terms* with nearly everyone at the school, sometimes it felt like there was no one who was actually his friend.

He looked across the room, and that girl's stare met his. He immediately looked away.

She was in this class? How long has she been here without anyone knowing?

Why did his face feel warm? It's just some random kid who looked at him funny. Not a big deal.

Not a big deal at all.

He could feel her eyes lingering on him for a moment before the teacher stood up and began the lesson.

○○○○○

It had been hours since you'd left Karaku alone in the kitchen, and you'd successfully cleaned the first two stories of the house. The first contained the kitchen, dining area and living room, and the second one contained most of the brothers' rooms and some sort of game room. It made you slightly jealous how they were able to live in such luxury, but you know that they've probably worked hard for what they have now.

That's just what happens when you put several incomes together.

You felt your stomach growl. It was way last lunch time. Usually you'd get a break, but this house was taking long enough. You'd rather finish up the job and–

A large hand touched your waist. Laughter erupted at the way your body stiffened following suit, and you felt a voice somewhere close to your ear.

"Wanna get lunch with us? Me, Aizetsu, and Karaku are going."

You turned around to find the man who had attacked you earlier, now close to you with a.. less devious smile than before.

"Uh.. I just.. need to finish the house so I can–"

Immediately you felt the broom being tugged from your hold, and strong hands wrapped around your knees and lower back. He had picked you up, and was now carrying you bridal-style down the stairs. "W-wait! I have to.."

He only shushed you, laughing at your attempt to free yourself from his hold. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, the other two were waiting for you.

Aizetsu shot a pitiful look your way. "Urogi put her down, you're gonna scare her."

He released you, but kept an eye on you to make sure you weren't trying to slink away.

"Where we going?" He asked, looking at Karaku, who only shrugged.

You felt kind of small around them, standing awkwardly while they conversed amongst themselves. Aizetsu's eyes turned to you. "Do you like milkshakes?"

You nodded your head up at him, and the three of them nodded at the same time, which was really creepy. But Urogi's playful gaze landed on you as Karaku reached for his keys.

"Little lady, have you ever ridden a motorcycle?"

○○○○○

"Wait. Let me off. I'm going with Karaku." You said sounding nervous. You were seated behind him on his motorcycle, him revving the engine as Karaku and Aizetsu climbed into his jeep.

"Having second thoughts?" He teased. Before you could answer, he turned around and stuck a helmet on your head. Then, as you were trying to adjust the strap, you realized it wasn't a helmet meant for a motorcycle.

"Urogi... is this a bicycle helmet?"

"...tricycle."

That was the last thing he said to you, turning around to put one of his huge leather jackets over your shoulders.

After you got it on properly, he pulled out of the driveway, cackling like a maniac as you sped past Karaku and Aizetsu.

Looking into the mirrors of his bike (even though it was kind of hard to see past his shoulders) you could see Aizetsu's horrified expression in the passenger seat of the jeep.

"By the way, if I lean one way, you also have to lean that way, or we'll fall and die." He had no trouble speaking over the sound of the wind. He sped up even more, which was definitely illegal on a residential road, but you just hugged him tighter.

The diner you arrived at was small, but lack of available parking spaces reassured you it was good. Urogi helped you off of his bike, and undid your goofy tricyle helmet. The other two were walking over from a little ways away, but he looked down at you and smiled.

"That's my favorite jacket you're wearing."

You all walked inside and seated yourselves at a booth. The diner was small, but the lighting was comfortable. You sat closest to the window, next to Urogi, and Aizetsu was across from you with Karaku next to him. On the walls were vintage pictures of cars and people with information about them. While you busied yourself reading, Karaku and Urogi played tic-tac-toe on one of the kids' menus with green and yellow crayons. (Yes, they asked the waitress for a kids' menu, just to play tic-tac-toe)

Aizetsu was eyeing you from time to time, so intensely that you knew he wanted to say something. You gathered the courage to meet his eyes with your own.

"Um, what's your name?" He asked, fiddling with the edge of his menu.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh no, you're taking me to lunch and I haven't even told you my name. I'm Y/N." You say, before extending a hand in his direction.

In that instant, he looked at you like he'd never seen a hand in his life. Karaku laughed at his awkwardness, and shook your hand in his absence. "Y/N is a lovely name."

The waitress comes by and takes your orders, disappearing into the back to relay them to the chef. Karaku grins at you before using the crayon as a microphone.

"Hear ye, hear ye," He begins. Everyone's attention is already on him, obviously, and Aizetsu looks like he wants to die.

"Y/N's gonna be living with us."

Urogi clapped like a little kid and Aizetsu looked more shocked than anything.

"Why?" He said, before looking at you. "Not that I don't... I meant it like, why would you–"

"She's our maid now!" Karaku interrupted, seemingly lighting a fire in Urogi's soul.

"Oooooo! Is she gonna walk around in one of those cute mai–"

"I prefer the term housekeeper." You said in a shy manner, feeling your face get hot.

"Housekeeper." He restated matter-of-factly.

Aizetsu looked at you. "Living with us? What would possess you to do that?"

You sighed ever so slightly, feeling all eyes on you. "I actually got fired today. I'd rather be a housekeeper than have to start fresh on a new job.."

Right on cue, the waitress came to your table, holding a tray with all of your food on it. She passed it out, but when she walked away, there was a strange aura coming from someone at the table.

Aizetsu was looking down at his food, eyes darting nervously from Karaku to Urogi.

They were busy digging in at the moment, but when his eyes met yours, you felt he was begging you not to say something. He grabbed his fork and picked at his salad, which was on the side of his actual meal.

As soon as Karaku heard the clink of the fork against the bowl, his whole head snapped to Aizetsu.

"...is there something wrong?"

"..no."

"Look me in the eye."

"It's fine. The food is fine. The food is good. Mmm. My favorite." Aizetsu said, suddenly grabbing his burger and taking a big bite.

The waitress was coming around again to refill Urogi's drink, and you could feel the tension at the table.

"Karaku, please don't.."

She was getting closer.

Urogi began to open his mouth as well, but Aizetsu begged him not to.

"Is everything alright?" The waitress said with her pitcher of tea, refilling Urogi's drink with a nervous look on her face.

"He asked for no pickles." Karaku said, and Aizetsu slumped down in his seat.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. Let me get that for you." She said, reaching over to grab his plate.

He seemed to slump more under the table the closer her hand got, so you reached over to hand the plate to her.

"I'll have your replacement made now." She says, before walking away.

"See that wasn't so hard, was it?" Karaku said, tussling his poor brother's hair.

"You embarrassed me..." Aizetsu whined, before everyone else at the table busted out into laughter.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

○○○○○

It was already around 3:00 before you had the opportunity to leave the house, gathering your cleaning supplies into the back of your car.

Urogi clung to your arm and followed you all the way out. "Awww, do you really have to go?" He pouted at you.

"I'll be back soon with my stuff." You stated. "I have to turn my uniform and supplies in to my boss."

He stood idly on the lawn, waving at you as your car backed out of the drive. "BYE Y/N!!"

You couldn't help but feel a smile creeping onto your face, but you shook it off and drove to your workplace (ex-workplace).

○○○○○

You stepped into Murata's Service Emporium for the last time, a feeling of relief washing over your chest. God, you never realized how much you hated this place until now. You wandered your way into your boss's office after putting the cleaning supplies away. You had changed into some normal clothes, and were now holding the itchy uniform in your hand.

Your boss had been expecting you.

"Y/N." He said, before snatching the uniform from your hands. He stuck out a check to you. "There."

You didn't even bother saying bye, just walking out of the door and back to your car. The last time you'll ever need to be in that building. A smile was on your face, and you thought it would have a long stay there.

○○○○○

"Hey, do you need any help?"

A man's voice came from behind you, and you turned, holding a large box in your hands.

"Umm, yeah, thank you." You said in a quiet voice, and he took the box with a smile while you grabbed another from inside of your apartment.

"What's all this for?" He asked, placing it in your trunk.

"Well, I'm moving out. Got another job in town, and..."

His smile turned into a small frown. "Oh, I was hoping I'd see you around more." He sighed.

Your face turned red, and you almost dropped the box in your hands. "Wh– uh, well, I never said I was opposed to seeing you again." You admitted shyly, his tattooed arms crossing infront of him as he raised a brow.

"Wanna grab some ice cream after we load your things?"

[saphiraarts]

Chapter 2 Friends no Longer but now Family

Vlad was given the all clear by the doctors and he returned home to his business which he was hit with the reality of everything he had done. Jack Fenton hadn’t intentionally caused the accident and Maddy only ever saw him as a friend. The fact he ever thought Jack had the level of intelligence to intentionally hurt his friend was insanity. He walked into his empty home and he sighed as he walked to his library. It was so big, extravagant, and meaningless. A dolled up hollow shell for a hollow man. He built his business on no proper merits stealing from others for his own gain. He entered the room filled with books and sat down in a chair and sighed as his mind raced. How was he going to fix his life? The last 4 years outside the hospital after his accident were all spent desperately trying to claim some semblance of control and power. He recalled it and he just felt ashamed, especially recalling all the time spent with Jasmine and Daniel. His end goal was to hurt them. Such innocent kids… He jumped when the phone rang and he answered it.

“Hello? Vlad Masters speaking,” He said robotically sounding tired.

“V-man!!” Vlad instinctively pulled away the receiver from Jack’s ear exploding greeting.

“Jack,” Vlad said, groaning.

“Honey Vlad is tired,” Maddy chastised her voice barely picked up by the phone but Vlad was thankful for her regardless.

“Gimme the phone!” A young voice called and Vlad smiled hearing Jazz. After a bit of shuffling of fabric Vlad heard her say. “I know you are sleepy but it was nice having you stay with us Mr. Masters!” Jazz told him. “Goodnight I hope we can see you soon!”

Vlad heard a bit of a struggle and heard, “See soon!” Daniel called and his heart melted.

“I will be down to see you both as soon as I can,” Vlad reassured both of them.

“The kids wanted to call you when you got home,” Maddy said, taking the phone. “Now it is off to bed for you both.” She handed it back to Jack and he could hear the shuffling of children being herded by their mother and he chuckled.

“Haha glad to see ya well V-man and to bury the hatchet!” Jack called.

“I’m glad as well,” Vlad said and while he was still trying to see if Jack was someone he could call a friend there were many other reasons as to why he was glad for that failure of an attempt at a relic. “Goodnight,” Vlad said.

“NIIGHHHT!” Jack called and Vlad pulled away the phone wincing and heard the phone call end and he sighed as he set down the phone and stood. He had to get to bed. He had so much to do tomorrow but he doubted he would get much sleep tonight or much sleep for a while.

It would be a quiet six months. The highlights were going to Amity Park to visit the Fentons and seeing Jazz progress through the school year. He was able to be there for every major event when his schedule of running Vladco allowed. A year flew by since the anniversary of his crash landing into Amity Park and he received a call. He sighed tired of phone calls but welcome to being a businessman. He picked it up with a bit of reluctance as he had grown tired of Vladco with little idea on how to move it forward in a legitimate way.

“Vlad Masters speaking,” He straightened putting on a professional tone while still in business mode.

“Was this a bad time? Your line has been busy,” Maddy asked in a gentle tone.

“Never,” Vlad said, feeling like he just stepped out of a hot shower after a long day just hearing her voice.

“Is it possible for you to come down sometime soon?” Maddy inquired.

“I can make room for next week,” Vlad said, not even checking his calendar. He would worry about organizing his schedule later. That was a headache he would have his secretary worry about.

“Great I gotta go I am sorry we are taking the kids swimming,” Maddy said hearing Jack’s yelling in the distance.

“Have fun,” Vlad told her. “Don’t forget sunscreen.”

“Already packed,” Maddy replied. “Good bye Vlad.”

“Farewell Maddy,” Vlad said and the pair hung up and that joy was short-lived. He was hit with the life of Vlad Masters when his phone rang again and his smile faded as he picked up and finished the business day.

Next week came and Vlad was freed from his normal life and allowed to indulge in what life with a family was like. It helped him ignore his own problems at least for a time and he walked out into the main building of Amity Park Airport. It wasn’t hard to find the Fentions with the hulking Jack Fenton and the standard orange jumpsuit along with Maddy’s standard jumpsuit. He wondered if they ever wore anything else?

“Vlady!!” Jack called and waved his arm. Danny was on his other shoulder waving with his dad. Jazz had her nose in a book at her mother’s side a bookmark in her hand.

Vlad sighed with a shake of his head and smile as he walked towards them dragging his suitcase.

“How was your flight?” Jack asked to take his suitcase without even asking.

Thank god Vlad had the forethought to put his important items in his carryon bag which was over his shoulder. Jack was as delicate with inanimate objects as a rampaging ghost dog.

“It was normal,” Vlad replied and Maddy smiled.

“That is great!” She beamed.

Jack was practically vibrating and Maddy gave Jack a sharp look and Vlad narrowed his eyes knowing they were hiding something. The family and their friend walked out of the airport to the Fenton RV and everyone was buckled in. They drove home talking the entire way and Vlad helped Danny out of his car seat and to climb down from the Fenton RV. Maddy helped Jazz and Jack grabbed Vlad’s suitcase, slinging it over his shoulder. Vlad walked in with Danny at his side and Maddy walking ahead of him with Jazz at her side and Jack was making up the rear. Filing inside to escape the heat Vlad unpacked, settling into the guest room and he was glad to be staying in here without a broken arm and leg. Vlad watched movies with Maddy, Jack, Jazz, and Danny and it was nice to not just sulk avoiding much of his house as it gave him bad memories. He stayed in the storage rooms outside of his office where he put the memorabilia from the Wisconsin Dairy King. It was the only area of the house that didn’t bring up painful memories or reminders. When the kids were brought to bed the three were in the kitchen sharing drinks and had been reminiscing about their pasts telling stories from their summers together. The flow of conversation was interrupted when Jack gave maddy a look and she sighed.

“Yes Jack, it's time. Vlad, we have something to tell you,” Maddy said and Vlad looked up from his glass of wine.

“You’re the godfather of our kids!” Jack called happily placing a hand on his shoulder. Vlad had taken a drink and he choked on his drink and he set that down the glass coughing.

Vlad looked up in disbelief, “D-did I hear that right?”

“Yes! You did!” Maddy called happily. “In case something ever happened to us we decided that you should care for the kids as their godfather.”

“We talked it out and there is no one we trust more to ensure our kids turn out right other than us than you!” Jack called. “Heaven forbid we ever go down in our line of duty!”

“We are serious about ghost hunting so I insisted we get that sort of thing sorted out,” Maddy said and Jack groaned at the memory of dealing with the lawyers.

“Aww Vladdy!” Jack called when he noticed tears fall down his cheeks with a smile creeping up. He couldn’t believe it. Never did he think this would happen and he certainly didn’t deserve such an honor.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Vlad said as he looked between the two.

Maddy placed a hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have to say anything.”

“No changing it now we signed it!” Jack beamed.

Vlad was silent as the two pulled him into a hug and he hugged them both. This was the happiest he had felt in eight years. He forgot what this kind of joy was like something that was so pure and not tainted by anything. Maddy pulled away and poured them more wine and Vlad smiled as Jack pulled away and sat down with his cane of beer.

“I will do my best to be a good influence for them and spoil them,” Vlad added after he wiped his eyes.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less!” Jack called.

“Nothing over the top Vlad,” Maddy said firmly and Vlad chuckled.

“We’ll see,” Vlad said, smirking. Jack’s hearty laugh filled the kitchen and house as they celebrated the new addition to their family. Vlad was making plans now to move to Amity Park. Besides it was about time he left that manor of his up in Wisconsin.

[lavender-romancer]

I'd Do Anything

Part Three

Tommy Shelby x Reader

You met when you were sixteen and from there, your lives ebbed and flowed closer and further away from one another but there was always something that brought you together.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Previous chapter

1914

It was a beautiful June, dry and wonderfully bright even in some parts of the inner city where smog caked roofs. But June would turn into a tense July, where the papers would speculate whether there would be a war or not. You and Tommy would both read the papers but struggled to talk about any sort of eventuality of war. Neither of you were old enough to remember the Boer War, so the concept of Britain going to war was altogether terrifying.

You and Tommy now lived together permanently. This didn't change much from your previous dynamic. Aside from the sex. A lot of sex. Wherever, whenever you could. With both of you genuinely being surprised you never got pregnant. You'd only been walked in on a few times with one of the siblings being completely scarred for the hours after. But it was usually laughed off and used as ammo against the two of you in jokes. You and Tommy had always been close, you were just close in everyway you could be now. It was blissful.

As you both ignored the papers you could imagine your future together. Working together, in a nice house near your family, maybe even afford a car eventually. Regardless of what happened, you wanted to be together to do it. You slowly met other people in Tommy's life he'd been closer too when you were at uni, all local boys living in or close to Small Heath. Freddie was your favourite, he was the loudest and most outspoken if any of Tommy's friends. Having political conversations with him was a nice break from Thomas' mostly apolitical attitudes that led to him being neutral to a lot of things. Thomas had some sympathies for the communist movement but it was really the conversations you had with Freddie that led to you understanding it moreso. Whereas, Tommy liked to listen rather than debate.

Finn was a stubborn little six year old, swiftly moving into a rebellious phase (definitely just copying his brothers). People still mistook Finn for being yours and Tommy's child but, nether of you seemed to mind anymore especially when you'd sometimes pretend you were. You and Tommy were both his teachers, each of you thinking it was very important to set Finn up well so he could do anything he wanted too in life. By the end of July he had learnt his times tables off by heart and somehow with your zero teaching experience between you, Finn seemed to be doing okay. It was when August came around that things began to change.

"Good morning." Tommy said, sitting up in bed reading yesterday's paper again. You were slowly waking up and made some sort of sound that could be construed as a 'morning' greeting.

"What time is it?" You asked shuffling over to lean on his chest.

"Probably about six." He told you, eliciting a groan from you before sitting up.

"I need to make breakfast for Finn." You went into a sort of 'zombie mum' mode where you definitely needed to properly wake up but were determined to wake Finn up and feed him.

"Polly's already here, come back to bed." Tommy gestured for you to come back and lie on his chest. You gratefully flopped ontop of him and yawned, falling back asleep straight away.

Tommy looked down at you half suffocating him and still couldn't believe you were real. That all of this really happened and he belonged to you. He'd never felt so lucky to be alive than now, looking down at your absolutely hideous sleeping face as you snored away; he just thought you looked cute. Tommy was so in love with you he didn't know how to function when you weren't there. It was the same when you went off to university, he had no tether, no direction.

"Thomas!" A voice screamed up the stairs and Tommy internally swore, hoping you wouldn't wake up. He slowly got out of bed and you mumbled something but fell right back to sleep.

"What is it?" Tommy hissed down the stairs after closing the door and Polly appeared at the base of the stairs holding up the paper.

"It's happened." She said, quieter now, more serious.

Tommy ran down the stairs and ripped the paper out of her hand, unfolding it. His eyes widened at the headline 'Great Britain declares war on Germany'. The page made a crumpling noise in his hands and he had to take a moment to breathe, take in his surroundings and try to ground himself but it wasn't working, this was real.

"How do we sign up?" Tommy asked with a serious tone and Pol threw up her arms.

"Are you fucking joking!" She yelled, "You're going to get yourselves killed, and for what? A war that is hardly our business?"

"We're adults, Pol. We can make our own decisions." Tommy returned, running a hand through his hair, suddenly there was a furious rapping at the door. Upon opening the backdoor Freddie ran in.

"We're fighting the power hungry bastards!" He held up a paper with a huge grin and a laugh. Polly swore under her breath.

"The two of you are insane!" She exclaimed before walking out of the room.

"Where's Arthur?" Freddie asked, walking through the house calling his name.

"It's like a bloody shelter around here." Polly commented as she walked up the stairs.

"Arthur!" Freddie yelled bursting into his room only to be greeted with a scream and a woman running out half dressed past Polly.

"What in God's name?" Polly muttered putting a hand to her forehead and Tommy struggled to keep in his laughter.

"Arthur! Just, just look!" Freddie yelled at a clearly very angry Arthur whilst handing him the newspaper. Tommy stood in the doorway, still in his boxers and undershirt. After a few moments Arthur looked up at Freddie then Tommy.

"When are we joining up then?" Arthur asked, looking at his brother with a smile, Freddie practically jumped on top of him with a triumphant yell. Tommy just smiled and slapped Freddie on the back.

"Have you told your mother?" Tommy asked in a concerned tone and Freddie sniffed, running a hand through his hair.

"I came straight here. She'd only try and stop me." Freddie admitted with a tone of regret, he knew that she was about to be heartbroken.

"Freddie, we should find out where the recruiting is in town." Arthur said, getting out of bed and pulling on his clothes from yesterday.

"I'll see you when you get back, remember to tell John." Tommy turned and walked out of Arthur's room.

"Break it to her softly, Tom." Arthur called and Tommy closed his eyes, leaning his hand against the wall for support. He had no idea how to break this to you.

"Y/n," Tommy called softly, walking back into your room holding the paper. "I need to talk to you about something." He sat on the edge of the bed and you woke up very slowly at first.

"How long was I asleep?" You asked with a yawn, shuffling across the bed to wrap your arms around Tommy's waist.

"Not too long. Polly called me downstairs to talk to me about something." Tommy held the paper in one hand but didn't show it to you yet, unable to admit to you what he had already decided.

"Did Finn have another strop?" You asked with a smile and Tommy tried to put a smile on his face, but as he's as he tried it wouldn't happen.

"Yeah." He replied in a hollow sort of way.

Tommy was consumed by his own worries so much he forgot he was holding the paper and it made a noise as he moved his finger up and down it. You looked over the side of the bed and grabbed the paper but Tommy wouldn't let go.

"Tommy?" You asked, "Give me the paper." You raised an eyebrow with a grin, assuming he was fucking around.

"No, not this one I spilled something a-and it's all sticky." Tommy tried to reason with a vice grip on the paper.

"It looks absolutely fine." You let go but pushed his arm slightly, "Why won't you let me read it?"

"I'll get a better one." He said very quietly and you were starting to get worried.

"Thomas. What's going on?" You said in a more serious tone.

Tommy took a deep breath and placed the newspaper (headline side down) on the bed. Your boyfriend had his head in his hands when you turned over the paper. Suddenly you couldn't speak, because you knew why he didn't want you to see the headline. You were so overwhelmed you didn't make a sound, placing the paper down you just stared at Tommy's back. Not knowing when you'd be able to do it next.

Two March's later, Tommy had been in France for around two months as a claykicker and you had been training to become a military nurse. Your training had begun as soon as you possibly could, you used your social circles found whilst being at University to start training earlier than other working class women and you would be able to be mobilised before others. The letters between you and Tommy had begun very constant, but the more pressurised the situation became at the front, the less communication there was back to the UK. Or at least, that was how you rationalised not receiving a letter from Tommy for the last two months.

Working at the training hospital had challenged all your preconceptions about nurses, assuming they were only an extension of Doctors. This snobbery was put into check when you had your first full shift on a recovery ward. The day was back-breaking even though some soldiers were fit enough to care for themselves. There was not a time on that shift you didn't feel exhausted. But you needed this. You couldn't fight, you couldn't lead but you could make some sort of difference regardless I'd the risk. Sitting at home playing house and bringing up Finn was wonderful but when men were dying everyday how could you, in good conscience, do it. Short of shaving off your hair and binding your chest, you felt that you could make some kind of difference at home or near the front.

Every shift at the hospital you saw more and more soldiers scarred by the war. Limbs missing, their faces completely changed and mental stability ruined for years to come. Whenever you helped these men you could only hope that it would never be the Shelby boys in these beds. You knew that any life changing injuries to any of the boys would be catastrophic to them, they relied so much on their physical prowess in the betting business that you didn't know if they could recover from it.

By the end of May you were told that you would be taken to join the 3rd Casualty Cleaning Service (CCS) in Bailleul. All you could do was hope that if Tommy was injured he was there. Unless the CCS was attacked it was unlikely you'd move around much and you just wanted to know he was alive, in any condition.

Being stationed had its benefits, you knew exactly where the front would be moving, be given information of incoming attacks from the air you couldn't receive in a mobile unit and conditions could be maintained with regular routine in the same location. But they also meant if Tommy's unit wasn't stationed anywhere near this CCS, you wouldn't be able to get any information about if he was alive. It was still hard to get letters to and from home from France so you doubted it would be any better for nurses. Nurses weren't told much about what was happening on the frontline, or at least you weren't. But you heard whispers from soldiers that something big was being prepared for July, you couldn't stop the immense dread you felt as the day you had to leave got closer. What kind of bloodshed was being planned?

Traveling to Bailleul was the furthest you'd gone in your life, being in a whole new country was inexplicably exciting. But the reality of being there shocked you. You traveled from Southampton to Rouen, then on to Saint-Omer by train then on to Bailleul. The whole journey took weeks, after all the roadblocks, refueling and a full week of being stationary due to recent shell attacks. When you were moving, the landscape was littered with bodies or the blood that they left. It wasn't uncommon to see body parts lying around the countryside or groups of elderly French farmers begging at the side of the road- their emaciated donkeys close by. These small towns had such a specific smell, all the mud thrown up from the military vehicles had masked any scent of nature, all you could smell was the damp coldness. This scent continued into the field hospital you were assigned too, even when you smelled the scarf tucked under your gown you brought from home, but it was worse. Mixed with the sounds of a singular scream, from what you assumed was a temporary operating room, it was a hellish welcome.

Once you had your assigned cubicle which was above some stables, you looked around at some of the other sisters. Some were asleep after their shift, others only just moving in like you. You took one of the pins out from your hair and pulled out a photo of you and Tommy taken when you went to Blackpool, pushing the pin through the photo you attached it to your bed frame. Looking into Tommy's eyes, you could feel his presence. You knew he was alive because he had to be, there was no eventuality of your life without him. He was near. You knew it.

It was late June, a dull day filled with clouds and heavy rain. The thunderstorms of the previous nights left a welcome scent of petrichor into the hospital. Aside from rain there wasn't much that could help the scent that radiated from the beds. Whether it was a doctor attempting to treat what was known as an unknown moisture based affliction that most of the boys call trench foot, or just the metallic taste of blood in the air. Regardless, you didn't complain and carried on with your daily responsibilities. This was it for you, this was the closest you would get to fighting against the enemy. Consequently you would soon be one of the most dedicated nurses in your company.

The first morning of July was misty, but it usually was when you woke up for your morning duties. Beginning with washing dirty sheets that you attempted to scent with flowers but usually it was only the soap that did any good. You hadn't had any patients with serious injuries or wounds for a while now and you hoped the situation might be stabilising on the front.

Tommy's morning was wrought with anxiety. His tunneling division in the Lochnagar trench was about three meters from being directly underneath the German trench and dug-outs. The whole operation was so time sensitive he couldn't help but worry if they would set the charges and get out of the tunnel in time for the trigger happy generals. Tommy would have loved to see how they coped in the tunnels, a sweaty, dusty nightmare. Every breath tasted like dirt but he couldn't cough or splutter in case Fritz was on the other side of the wall, listening. He looked at Freddie's form in front of him, wondering how the two of them got to this point. Danny was tunneling slowly with his bayonet down the front sitting against a wooden frame as Tommy listened through the walls with a geophone for any movement with Freddie holding the lamp up for Danny.

The three Small Heath men often reminisced at the beginning of their deployment about home, sex, and alcohol. Now they couldn't face thinking about it. Whenever Tommy thought about you he wanted to cry so he didn't. He stopped writing, he had a job to do and he couldn't let anything distract him when it was so important. All he could do was pray that you weren't near the front.

Suddenly Tommy heard a slight noise. Shovels. He lightly tapped Freddie and asked him to listen, his eyes slowly going wide as they reached for their revolvers. Freddie tapped Danny's shoulder and signaled that there might be someone to the left of them.

Everything seemed to happen so fast, Danny turned around and suddenly he was grasped by the neck by a German. Tommy leapt forward and stabbed the first Fritz in the stomach, holding his hand over his mouth and then another came through the hole burst through the mud.

"Tommy!" Freddie exclaimed before pushing Tommy out the way and getting hit by a bullet. Danny broke the neck of the second German and the three of them sat there for a moment in disbelief. Tommy could tell that Danny was about to scream or cry.

"Take him to the surface." Tommy told Danny sternly, he would set these charges himself if he had too.

"Tommy, ah," Freddie hissed in pain. "You can't set them yourself."

"Well I'm fucking going too. Get up to the surface now." Tommy turned and carried on digging, now less worried about Germans slitting his throat.

Two meters farther Tommy set the charges and attached the wire, he looked down at his pocket watch, he still had an hour. But carefully wheeling this wire all the way up to the surface was incredibly intimidating-especially alone. Each shuffle felt horrendously loud in the silence of the tunnel, as he got closer to the surface, Tommy could feel every vibration from above. There was no auxiliary fire yet but even the movement of soldiers in the trenches was enough. He was up to his shins in freezing water now, there was a slight dip in the tunnel where water had been streaming through for days now. Tommy was surprised he didn't have trench foot by this point, but there was no time to think about that now. He got closer and closer to the ladder even though it kept feeling further, with muscles aching and his nerves at breaking point he climbed up the ladder holding onto the ends of the wire spiral.

"Where's the switch?" Tommy asked in a completely deadpan voice when he finally reached the surface.

"Here, Tom. Freddie's gone to the field hospital." Danny handed Tommy the switch with hands shaking vigorously.

"Pull yourself together, Dan. We have to get this right " Tommy sat with the wire coil in his lap, connecting the two.

"I-I can't do this Tom. It's too much." Danny ran his hand over his head and squatted down, his body shaking.

Tommy focussed on the task at hand because he had no time to deal with any of this, he only had 10 minutes to connect it all and get the fuck out of there.

You were on shift when a small army vehicle approached, beeping its horn. Running over you saw two porters getting the patient out of the back of the car.

"What happened? I didn't know anyone had already gone over?" You asked, walking alongside the men.

"I think he was shot in the tunnels. Gerry Claykicker got him." He replied and you could have gasped in that moment when a hand reached out and touched yours. You looked down and saw Freddie's terrified eyes, his face covered in mud and blood pouring from a wound in his stomach.

"Oh, fuck." You said under your breath. Your more senior nurse took over from you with one of the surgeons, they took Freddie into the tent and all he could do was stare into your eyes as he got further away.

As you ran into the tent to prep some more beds in case there were more trench casualties a cacophony of noise interrupted your thoughts. You hid underneath a bed, assuming it was a shell attack from above but it seemed to stop. Another large explosion sound came further away from the last. You slowly walked out of the tent and looked out towards the front, in the distance there was a humongous crater- then the gunfire started. The Battle of the Somme had begun.

next part

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[daisyvisions]

5 13 15 woth haknyeom bcuz my boy deserves everything fuck you all for not giving him recnonizction

Everything You Want

Member: Ju Hakyneon (TBZ)

Prompts: 5 - “Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.”, 13 - “Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.”, & 15 - “Mine. All mine.”

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), Fratboy!Hak, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, cowgirl (because it’s fucking sexy), nipple sucking & licking, pet names (baby, sweetheart)

A/N: When I said Hak is a giver, I meant it 😤

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

“Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.” Haknyeon groans as he tilts his head back against the pillows, firmly gripping your hips as you ride his throbbing member.

“Y-you’re so hard Hak- I can feel all of you” you whimper in pleasure.

You’ve never felt so full in your entire life, regretting on what you’ve been missing out on this whole time since this was your first being in a riding position.

You were feeling incredibly needy tonight, wanting nothing but your tight hole to be filled up by a hard cock... Haknyeon’s cock to be exact. So that’s when you decided to give him a call late at night.

At first you thought it would end up just having phone sex since it was 1AM, but the moment you said you were needy you could immediately hear the sounds of shuffling on the other end of the line, “I’ll be right over sweetheart”.

You and Haknyeon were just casually fucking. After making out and going down on each other the night you met at a frat party, you both knew there was some kind of chemistry.

Unlike his other frat brothers, Hak was incredibly subtle when it came to sleeping around. But the moment he met you, he swore he was head over heels. He never fucked anyone after meeting you. Anything you did, he’d immediately go into simp mode honestly.

He knew though you weren’t seeking any kind of serious relationship at the moment, after confessing to him your string of “bad luck” and just wanting to feel free but that didn’t bother him one bit. Whatever you wanted, he would always give it to you.

And that’s how you ended up riding his fat cock.

All your previous partners never gave you the chance. Always wanting to put you in positions they preferred. So when you asked Haknyeon if you could try riding him, you were scared he would reject the idea. But you were so wrong.

To Hak, it was more than he could ever dream of. To see you use his cock the way you wanted to, your tits out on full display for him to grab or suck, and just get off from you getting off from him.

You swear you could feel his leaking tip kissing your cervix at this point. No one ever told you how overwhelming riding could get. You felt your knees and hips starting to ache from the bouncing and rocking.

Hak also noticed your movements getting slower as compared to a few minutes ago.

“Getting tired, baby?” He looks up at you caressing the sides of your hips.

“Kinda, but I still wanna be on top Hak. Wanna feel all of you-” you pout still trying to rock your hips back and forth. But Haknyeon grips your hips firmly and stops your movements, making you confused.

“Hey. Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.” He sweetly smiles back at you. You smile back, but curious to know what he plans to do.

Suddenly, Haknyeon shifts his whole body upright while his cock still throbs inside you. Leaning his back against the headboard and shifting his legs up so they’re more bent.

His arms snake around your waist and before you know it, his mouth is sucking one of your nipples as he immediately thrusts up into you. You let out a loud moan in the process, surprised that he could even take the lead while you’re on top.

Haknyeon doesn't stop pistoning himself into you, especially with this new angle nudging your gummy spot making him go deeper into you while his balls are practically slapping against your ass.

“Oh fuck, you’re so deep Hak” you moan as you feel the coil in your abdomen tightening the more he hits your spot.

Hak continues to suck and lick your sensitive nipples like his life depended on it. You hear him groaning and mumbling something incoherent against your skin.

“What?” you ask breathlessly. You suddenly yelp as Haknyeon bites the supple skin of your breasts, making sure to leave marks in case you might fuck around with someone else.

“Mine. All mine.” He repeats himself, looking into your eyes as his thrusts become sloppier signaling his high as well. Coming hard together felt like heaven for the both of you, your load moan and his deep groan harmonizing together like a symphony.

You felt your chest swell with a heavy warm feeling inside with those words, knowing exactly what you felt about him in that moment.

Right after he cleaned you up with a warm towel and got fresh clothes from your drawer, helping you get dressed and tucked you in. His cheeks were turning red when you asked him to stay the night, thank god the room was dark enough for you to not notice.

“Did you mean that?” you asked him, fiddling with his fingers as you snuggled up to each other.

“Which one sweetheart?” he replied.

“That I’m all yours?” you look up at him with gleaming eyes, looking beautiful as always.

“Well, yeah. Only if you want me to… Would you want that?” He whispered. You leaned closer to give him a deep kiss. A kiss you’ve never given him before,

“Yeah, I'd want that very much.”