#i had the end all figured out when i first started having the idea but then i had to make marti sadder than i usually intented to

[princessbrunette]

when sarah and john b had decided they wanted to recruit you to join their relationship, there were a few subtle steps they had planned to take.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡

they saw your potential. they knew perhaps you weren’t the most overtly sexual in nature, but they also knew they could change that. sex was like cake, you could never just eat one spoonful of it. all they had to do, was pique your interest — not just in sex, but in sex with them specifically.

baby steps. you ask sarah to send her the videos she took of you guys from the party the night before, and she ‘accidentally’ includes a video of her and john b fucking she’d taken on her phone the same day. of course she acted bashful, apologising profusely for the mistake and acting incredibly grateful when you’d told her there was no problem and that you’d delete it.

‘yk i wouldn’t even really care if you watched it tbh. i trust you. its only me and john b anyway… 🤷🏼‍♀️💕’

— she’d text you after a moments passed. curiosity of course got the better of you, a shaky, clammy finger pressing the play button as you nervously bite your nail, glancing at the door and turning the volume way down as precaution as if someone were to catch you. the focus seemed to be on sarah, grinding her hips to ride the brunette boy, soft tits bouncing as he lazily smacks her ass and encourages her to keep riding. she seemed to be putting in the work, john b merely used as a vessel for pleasure, a dildo with a voice box— and something about that had you shamefully heating up. sure, your knowledge on sex was fairly limited — but what you did know through movies and tv shows was that guys were usually too prideful to let the girl do the work, yet therefore caring less for her pleasure. the two of them seemed… open. different.

the text of apparent permission sarah had sent you only made you feel the slightest bit less guilty when you snuck your hand down the waistband of your panties and humped clumsily at your palm as you hit replay.

the blonde cameron had facetimed you suddenly and out of the blue seven minutes later. you yanked your hand out your pants like there’d be a way for her to see you before you’d accepted the call and you swallow thickly, brain too frazzled to think before hitting the green button. she was smiling, laying on her bed in that white tank top that hugged her tits, the same tits from the video and accentuated her golden, barbie tan. you try and be normal about it. she’s just your friend after all.

“hey, what are you doing right now?”

you blink at her, the way she’s smiling at you — before checking yourself out in the small box in the corner. you look all heated and askew, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. fuck.

you told her you were watching a movie and then excused yourself not even two minutes later, overcome with embarrassment and the feeling of being caught. sarah rolls over once the call ends, smirking to john b who was reclined on her bed with a hand behind his head, scrolling through his own phone.

“she was totally getting herself off.” she purs matter-of-factly. the brunette boys eyes light up a little as he glances over, brows shifting upwards.

“yeah? how’d you know?”

“she had it written all over her face.”

the two of them got greedy, with the whole introducing you to the idea of being chronically horny thing. without even really speaking about it, they figured the more they normalised this kind of behaviour in the group dynamic, the more likely you were to feel comfortable enough to let them hit. jj maybank was sexual in nature to the knowledge of anyone who had the pleasure of having a conversation with him longer than five minutes. he was sure to make it easy and perhaps bridge the gap, they just needed their in.

by that point, you’d started to catch on anyway.

the four of you sit in a small uneven circle on the floor of the chateau, drinking on a friday night. at first you’re a little confused — you were so sure sarah had been hinting at something with you, herself and john b for a while now — but as you sat beside jj on the floor, his arm rested casually behind you, rubbing casual circles on your waist you perhaps started to question whether or not you’d made that up, and really they were just trying to be friendly so they could set you up with their friend.

as soon as the words ‘truth or dare’ leave john b’s mouth with a knowing, yet trusting and warm grin — you knew it was bound to take a turn. with this group, it always did. everything was about sex, whether you were doing it or talking about it or pretending to do it infront of eachother, it was some kind of secret obsession that you could feel yourself feeding into without knowing. a lamb being brought in to be sacrificed, a group of secretly perverted individuals itching to get your sweet, cranberry blood on their hands.

sarah speaks your name when you foolishly pick dare, worried if you had picked truth they’d make you recount all the things you’d hadn’t done. she leans across the circle to you on her hands and knees so her face is right in front of yours, breath in your face, ass in john b’s.

“i want you… to show me how you’d ride a dick.”

“what?”

she pushes back, reaching behind her on the couch and fetching the throw pillow, placing it in the centre of the circle with a mischievous grin. the pillow it long, firm and rectangular — the comfiest of its kind to nap on during the day whilst the group discuss whatever mishap they were planning on getting into that week.

“aw now we’re talkin’” jj gets comfortable, sitting back a little with a jokey grin. nothing about their tone was out of the ordinary, which what made you feel so comfortable.

“i don’t understand?” you smile, tilting your head like a lost puppy which only made you appear more delicious as their prey.

“straddle the pillow… and show us what you’d do if you were to ride an actual, real dick.” sarah explains kindly, even pulling your hand so you would shuffle forward on your knees to the centre of the small circle.

“look, we know you haven’t done that before— no shame in it,” john b shrugs one shoulder understandingly with an air of casualness which calmed you. “but a dares a dare and hey, maybe you could learn something right now.”

“i been told i’mma pretty good teacher too, so—” jj starts casually in his amused drawl, but is cut short pretty quickly by the sarah snapping her head towards him, her tone more curt and snappy.

“jj.” she scolds quickly and he shuts up, but as quickly as she changed her tone, she was back to smiling back at you encouragingly. she didn’t want jj to take it too far with the pervy jokes and send you running. their plan was perfectly crafted, and they didn’t need him ruining it. john b’s eyes linger on the blonde. nothing malicious about it, perhaps a warning though — because jj presses his lips together and moves his glance back to you with a thick swallow.

all in this time, you had decided to take another long swig of your drink before straddling the pillow. the group cheer, the fun and jokey atmosphere back in full swing as you cover your face, giggling into your hands.

your skirt stretches over your upper thighs at the position, and you shuffle — ensuring you’re sat comfortable on the throw cushion. perhaps the alcohol had lowered your guard, because without much thought — you wince, the material catching over your clit. you were sensitive, assumably from ovulation and as you try to get into a comfortable position, your face falls, realising you may be too sensitive to partake.

“uhm,” you clear your throat as the playful jeering dies down.

“go ahead. fulfil your dare.” sarah chuckles, leaning back against the couch behind her.

“i can’t.” you whisper, smile slipping off your face. the couples hearts drop a few millimetres in their chest, thinking perhaps they’d made you uncomfortable and soiled the whole thing. the blonde girls eyebrows furrow, leaning forward and scooching to sit directly infront of you.

“why? are you okay? i’m— i’m sorry—”

“no i’m okay,” you let out an airy laugh that relieves everyone. “maybe i’m just drunk but i’m a little sensitive… don’t think i can sit n’hump this pillow without…” you trail off, your shame sending heat to your cheeks and behind your ears. john b raises his eyebrows slowly in expectation.

“without…?”

you clench your thighs around the pillow, mortified, looking down at it before back up at him with puppy dog eyes and your teeth tucked over your bottom lip all sheepish. made him wanna finger you until you cried.

luckily, sarah’s face lights up with slow realisation, mouth forming an ‘o’ and eyes widening.

“without cumming?” she cooes before swivelling around to look at both boys, laughing in adoration. “aww, you’re sensitive! i didn’t even… know that was a thing!” she beams, and the boys follow, teeth glinting in the low light like hungry hyenas in a cave.

you loosen up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing and you giggle. “yeah… s’just quite a… firm pillow. pressing me in all types of places.” you shrug, girlishly.

“are you seeeeeeriously tellin’ me, that you can’t move back and forth just a little?” jj chuckles, dumbfounded from behind you and you peer shyly over your shoulder with a humble shrug. you wasn’t sure if they were to be making fun of you, but for some odd reason — based off vibes alone, your sensitivity felt like something to be proud of amongst the group. jj licks his lips.

when you turn back, sarah’s in your face again, her warm hands on your knees. she seems comfortable, so you relax into her touch. you notice john b watching the interaction before locking eyes with you and sipping out his beer bottle.

“okay well, a dares a dare, but if you really need someone to help you out…” she giggles, hands sliding up to your hips before she begins to forcefully tug you back and forth — leaving you no choice but to let her make you hump this pillow infront of everyone.

your hands fly to her shoulders to stabilise yourself, sucking in a shaky and unsure gasp as the seams in the fabric repeatedly catch over your clit through your thin panties. the music playing out the speaker seems to get louder, or maybe the blood is just pumping in your ears as the boys let out little encouraging cheers as they chuckle and continue to drink.

sarah tilts her head, hot breath on your jaw as she lowers her voice to something quiet and seductive for just you to hear, her hands now grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you along. “there you go, keep riding it. just like me in that video, right?” she croons, and your brows furrow — unable to stop the pornographic moan from leaving you.

embarrassed at the delighted reactions, you hide your face in sarah’s neck, hot and disorientated from the pleasure, hearing her amused chuckle close up. “its just us, nothing at all to be embarrassed about.” she shrugs against you. “can’t run from the dare, sweetie. jj, you wanna come up behind her and give her a hand?” she asks, and before you can lift your head — her hands have slid up your top, squeezing at your tits.

your hips aren’t left alone for long though, as jj straddles the long pillow right behind you and grips your hips, tugging them back and forth with a boyish roughness that had the fabric scraping against you in a new way. you whimper uncontrollably, feeling the blondes stiff crotch thumping against your backside each time he yanked you back.

“yeah-he-heahh, that’s the stuff. don’t tell me i never do anythin’ for ya babydoll. teachin’ you the valuable lesson of gettin’ off right now.” he drawls in your ear, his body heat making your back arch.

amidst this, john b carries the same cool and collected energy. he leans against the couch as he keeps his eyes on yours, taking another sip of his beer before reaching out and taking your hand in his to gently soothe over your knuckles when you announce in a panic that they were going to make you cum.

“thaaaats it,” he hums, voice bassy and delicious enough to make you hold onto every word, thighs clenching painfully. “riiiiide it out.”

something about his nonchalance made you believe it was perhaps his idea, and not sarah’s like you previously believed.

[seospicybin]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Your ex, Chan, makes a return to his social media with a thirst trap. Horny and bored, you decide to see him for the sole reason of getting your physical needs fulfilled. However, as the night goes, you start to wonder if seeing him tonight is a bad idea. (14,4k words)

Author's note: Yes, it's inspired by that one Olivia Rodrigo song.

Talking to your ex is a bad idea, right?

You've been considering whether to slide into his DM or not, commenting on his Instastory which is a video of him exercising half naked, exposing his toned upper half body in all its glory.

It's been two years after the breakup and he didn't post anything on his social media until today, it's like he knows you're bored and horny.

It's unclear whether it's him or it's your uterus talking, but he looks hotter, sexier, and bigger than the last time you saw him. Although you must admit that he's always been attractive to you, except that his attractiveness is on a whole 'nother level now and it makes you wonder why you let this man go in the first place.

In your defense, Chan is not a terrible ex, he decided to break up with you because he was leaving to study abroad and thought the long-distance relationship would be hard and mentally draining for both of you.

You acted like it didn't hurt you but when you came home that night, you cried so hard that your pillow got drenched in tears. You didn't want to break up with him because he's a great guy who happens to be great in bed too, not only because he has the most delicious cock you've ever had but he also knows how to put it to a good use. Simply put, you were so devastated thinking that you'd never find a man like him again.

And you know what? You were right. You tried dating a few times but nothing comes close to what you had with Chan. Also, can't two people reconnect?

Before you get to change your mind again, you decide to hit the like button and send a short message in his DM.

Hey, there. You type into the message box, adding a smiling emoji at the end to make it sound casual but friendly at the same time.

There's no reply or a sign that he's read your message, you figure he must be busy on a Saturday morning, he could be having another session at the gym or having breakfast, or... yeah, it could be him ignoring your messages.

Slightly hangover from hanging out with your friends last night, you slump down your bed and close your eyes to get another few minutes of sleep.

You wake up an hour later with more than a dozen notifications on your phone, they're mostly your friends sending photos they took of you last night. You groan when you see a couple of work emails and do not think twice to skip them. There are some texts from friends and then, there it is, a reply from Chan.

Well, hello, there!

It's been ages.

How are you?

You check the time and his replies came about fifteen minutes ago, there's a possibility that he's still on his phone and he'll respond faster this time.

Never been better.

How about you?

Looking fine as ever, I see.

You add the eyes emoji before hitting the send button and drop your phone onto the bed, it's a bit risky but a compliment never hurt. Besides, who doesn't like getting a compliment?

The thought that Chan is probably waiting for your reply in those fifteen minutes amuses you but pfft... that's just your wishful thinking.

As you wait for his response, you're checking the photos your friends sent you. You check them one by one, deleting the ones that you don't like and saving the good ones where you look flattering.

An idea pops into your head as you go through your gallery: a plan. First, you choose a photo of you that shows your whole look last night, dressed in a blue mini dress and strappy heels with your hair up, tied in a messy bun, in other words, you looked hot and you felt like it when your friend took the picture.

You upload it as your Instagram story and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You're sure as hell he'll see your new post, then he'll get curious and open it, and Wowza!

Chan thinks he can be the only one posting a thirst trap on a Saturday morning, huh?

It only takes a minute for the thirst trap to do its job, you smirk at the notifications and see Chan's username on the top.

Me? He adds three flustered emojis to it.

Nah. I'm not.

But you...

You look beautiful as always.

Is it even allowed to look that beautiful?

A year of being single makes you weak at the slightest chance of romance, you catch yourself smiling to yourself in the mirror. You slap yourself to get ahold of yourself, reminding yourself that he could say that just to—

A notification pops up and it shows that Chan liked and reacted to your Instagram story with the hearts eyes emoji. Fuck! You just caught yourself smiling again. but what can you do? You're just a girl who is lonely and in need of some loving touch.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and think about what to reply to him.

And you...

Is it even allowed to have that much of muscles?

Someone, please close the gym!

You look good nonetheless, Chris.

But seriously, close the gym! You add a laughing emoji to keep it playful.

You patiently wait for his reply but your patience only lasts for twenty minutes until he makes you wait longer for his reply and you slump on the bed again.

It's time for plan number two!

The thirst trap worked to pique his interest and you have to come up with something that shows you're a hot commodity, you don't waste your time chasing boys, they chase you. That way, Chan will respond to your message faster.

So here comes plan number two, you take another trip to your gallery, scrolling through photos from last night, and find the perfect photo. It's a picture of you and one of your male friends, you're standing side by side, holding your drinks together and smiling to the camera. There's enough friendliness in there to show that you're close with this guy but also, not that close. You don't know how to explain it, but you know it'll work.

You wait a few more minutes to add it to your Instagram story, not forgetting to tag your friend which is the best part of it. If anyone checks his account, they'll see a model with blue eyes, just the perfect guy to make certain someone is jealous.

You're devilishly laughing as you hit the post button and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You check to see the final result and smile in satisfaction.

Okay, maybe you were too haste and didn't do your calculation right because morning has turned into afternoon and Chan hasn't replied to you. Not only did he make you wait, but you also wasted three hours of your day staring at the ceiling with the phone resting on your chest.

At this point, you should've given up and maybe it's true, he only replied just to be friendly, nothing more. You fling your phone across the bed out of spite and get up, planning to wash him away from your head with a hot shower.

Against the loud sound of the hairdryer, you hear your phone chimes and you turn it off to check whether you're imagining it chimes or not.

You hate how quickly you forget how upset you were a while ago after seeing your phone light up with new notifications.

I'm sorry for replying late.

I was busy moving some stuff.

Do you have time?

And you hate it more that he can easily get your hopes up again. You figure it's time he tastes his own medicine, you put your phone away and leave him on read. You'll reply later when you feel like it, or never. Who knows?

You continue drying your hair but the constant hum of the hairdryer makes you unable to hear your thoughts, especially one that stops you from going to your phone again as it chimes with a new notification. It only takes twenty minutes for you to cave into the temptation.

I don't know about you but all these chats, they're not enough.

Can we video call instead?

It takes you not even a minute to say yes to him. You make a run to your closet and change your clothes, picking up a white top with a low neckline, ditching the bra, and pairing it with denim shorts.

Chan doesn't give you a minute to choose the setting of the video call, your phone rings as you try to make the bed as best as you can and sit with your back against the headboard of the bed.

The phone keeps ringing but you need to check your hair in the mirror again to finally accept the video call. A second later, Chan's face appears on your phone screen, and from his damp hair, it seems like he's just taken a shower too.

"Hey," he greets you as he brushes his curls with his hand.

"You look a little wet, Chris," you tease with a sly smile.

Chan moves, changing his sitting position and revealing himself in a bathrobe with his chest all exposed. Intentional or not, you must admit that's quite a show!

"I was feeling hot so I took a quick shower," he answers with a grin.

"Feeling hot, huh?" You tease again.

"I am now," he playfully responds, flashing you a sly smile and lip bite.

The two of you just stare at each other through the screen and it's getting too much for you with how intense his eyes are.

"So, where are you now?"

"I'm actually in the city," he shortly replies.

"Oh? You're back!" You gasp but hold yourself back from continuing the sentence and ask if he's back for good. The most important thing is he's confirmed his location, all you need to find out next is if he's up to do no good with you.

"Kind of," he vaguely answers.

"Kind of..." you teasingly repeat his words and then giggle.

Chan grins and rests his back against a pillow, it's unclear if he's sitting on the bed or the sofa, "Oh, how I missed that," he says.

You take a pillow and put it on your lap as something to hold on to, "Missed what?"

"Your sweet smiles and cute giggles," he shortly answers like he's been waiting for you to ask him that.

"Oh, stop it, Chris!" You respond, getting a little flustered that you melt onto your pillow. You may as well lie down on your stomach and put the pillow under your chest, "You're getting good at lying, huh?"

"Yeah. Nah. Just a little bit," he jokingly says, then bursts into laughter that his dimples sunken deep into his cheeks.

And oh, you missed his dimpled smiles and his sonorous laughter too, but you're not going to tell him that, maybe not now, or ever.

To avoid it escalating really quickly, you shift the conversation elsewhere. You prop a hand under your chin and tilt your head to the side while the other hand steadily holds your phone far enough from your face.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"Staring at your face," he answers, a half smirk decorating his rectangular face.

"Just my face?" You jokingly ask with a flirty lip bite.

"Everything else too," he adds, catching his eyes flicking down for a second then smirks.

You act oblivious to the fact that with the way you lie on your stomach, you're offering him a view of your cleavage and he would be stupid if he missed the sign.

"What I meant is what are you doing in the city? Is it for work or...?"

"I need to sort a few things," he vaguely explains.

It's obvious that he's keeping the details from you and you have to respect that, he's not your boyfriend and even if he is, he's not obligated to tell you everything. Including the possibility that he came here to see his new girlfriend, perhaps?

"Oh? So, all business, no pleasure?" You joke with a light chuckle, hiding your true intention to know whether he's seeing anyone or not.

"I'm free tonight and I was hoping that we could meet," He says, shattering the negative thoughts that rush through your head.

Now, that gets you thinking if he's coming here to see you and you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach, or it could be your uterus ovulating as you speak, either way, you like it.

"Tonight?" You ask, acting like you already have a plan for tonight.

"Yes. Or do you already have plans for tonight?"

The act always works, gosh, you should consider to start a career as an actor, "Not really, but uh... where do you want us to meet?"

"There's a nice bar in the hotel I'm staying in. We can have a drink or two," he replies, then licks his lips and makes them appear wet and fuller, tantalizing you to kiss them.

Despite you feeling like screaming and jumping on the bed, you remain coy about it, reminding yourself to not sound eager but show enough enthusiasm.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, tilting your head to the other way and saying, "Hotel bar has better drinks so... yeah, I'd love a drink or two."

A triumphant smile rises on his face and it's cute that he lets it show, making you feel a lot of things in a few seconds.

"I'll see you there, I mean, here at 8?"

You tug your middle finger between your teeth and flash him a seductive smile, "Okay."

"I'll DM you the address."

"Okay," you mutter again while staring at him through the screen on your phone.

"See you tonight then," he says, touching his lips and rubbing the lower lip with his long, dainty finger.

"Can't wait to meet you," he adds.

Instead of answering him, you let out a giggle and sit up on the bed. You flip your hair to the back and just stare at him for a minute without saying anything.

"See you tonight, Chris," you finally reply, making sure to call his name with a low, sultry voice and a sly smile.

Without hesitation, you hang up first and let out a long sigh after. It's just a video call but Gosh! It feels like a foreplay already.

You give yourself a moment to compose yourself before execute plan number three: Dressed to fucking impress. To be honest, you don't even bother with the 'impress' part, you just want to fuck.

See? Talking to him is not a bad idea after all.

-

The sound of your high heels constantly tapping the marble floor as you walk echoes in the hotel lobby, you're unsure of how to inform him that you've arrived just a few minutes late from the appointed time.

You take your phone out of your purse and are about to compose a message when you catch him holding his hand up at you from the second floor.

You wave your hand back at him and make your way to the stairs, climbing each step with caution because it would embarrassing if you tripped. But looking at Chan waiting for you at the top of the stairs makes it feel like you're living a scene out of a movie.

Even with his signature all-black look, it doesn't make him less princely. He looks dreamy with crinkles in his eyes and a charming smile on his face.

He offers his hand when you're only a couple of steps away from him. You take it and let him guide you on the last steps of the stairs. His grip is firm as you remember and he still has his favorite chain bracelet around his wrist.

"You look gorgeous," he doesn't say it in a dramatic, hyperbolic way but he softly whispers it to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, so close to the corner of your mouth.

The night has just begun but he's already succeeded in making you quietly hold your breath. You put on a smile for him and coyly say, "You look stunning in black as... always."

He laughs and it feels like to see and hear it in person, like you can feel the warmth that his laughs emit.

"Want to have dinner first?" He asks.

"I've had dinner," you answer.

The truth is, you barely had dinner because you were too nervous to eat anything but you did eat a nutrition bar in the taxi.

"This way to the bar then?" He offers his arm at you like a true gentleman.

"Lead the way, sir!" You say as you link your arm around him.

It's only a short walk from the hotel lobby to the bar Chan mentioned, the interior is rather luxurious, leather seats with a live jazz performance. He mutters something to the hostess, probably where he prefers to sit and she nods in response.

"This way, please!" She says with a polite smile, walking like a feline creature in her tight skirt and silk blouse.

You glance to the side to see if Chan is looking at the pretty hostess in front of him, but you find him staring at you instead.

"Is there something on my face?" You ask in slight panic, afraid that you have something in your teeth but he feels bad to tell you.

"No," he simply answers.

"This way, sir, ma'am," the hostess says, gesturing to the booth she chooses for the two of you, a little hidden in the corner of the bar to provide some privacy.

Chan gently places his hand on the small of your back and lets you take a seat first. You have a seat in the middle of the curved sofa and he sits right next to you.

"Can we order drinks right away?" Chan asks as he puts his phone on the table.

"Sure," the hostess answers, slightly bending down to hear him talk clearly, "What would you like to have, sir?"

"I'll have the... Boulevardier," he eloquently says with a slight French accent.

"Excellent choice, sir!" She comments, she then turns her head at you to take your order, "How about you, ma'am?"

Things have been feeling a little surreal for these past few hours your brain is struggling to keep up, you want to be cool and confidently answer the fanciable hostess but it takes you a longer time to process a simple question like that.

"I'd love a daiquiri, please!" You answer, ignoring the fact that it takes you a minute to come up with it.

"Can I recommend you with the Hemingway special? It's a daiquiri with a splash of sweet grapefruit juice and Maraschino liqueur," she eloquently explains, proving that she's not only hired because of her look.

"That sounds amazing. I'd love that," you say with an impressed smile.

After confirming your orders, the hostess left the booth and it's just the two of you now in this nice yet slightly erotic setting of the bar.

"That's a nice dress," he suddenly compliments as he's looking at your face, not at your dress.

The dress goes to your midthigh, it's white and tight enough to showcase your curve. It's long-sleeved but the sweetheart neckline exposed just the right amount of skin. You've been saving it for a special occasion and considering that you haven't met him for two years, you reckon it's time to wear it.

"Just something I had, you know, lying around," you playfully answer.

The drinks come not long after and Chan waits until the server leaves to initiate a toast with you. Your drink is in a glass with a thin stem so you carefully lift it with your fingers.

"Cheers!" You mutter in unison and clink your glasses together.

The first round of drinks went with a conversation that consisted of basic questions. He asks you about work, family, life in general, and everything in between. You must admit that your life is kind of boring but it's nice to know that he wanted to catch up on your life updates.

It's a little disappointing though that he doesn't ask anything about your love life or whether you're seeing anyone or not.

When you deem that you're on the verge of oversharing, you stop talking and shift the focus to him.

"What about you? What are you working on at the moment?" You curiously ask, putting down your drink on the table and leaving one last sip on the fragile-looking glass.

"I'm working on a lot of things right now. From a lot of places too," he answers.

"So, you've been traveling a lot," you remark.

"Yes."

That says something about his relationship status and unless he has learned how to be in a long-distance relationship, then it means he's not seeing anyone right now. Even if he is, there's a big chance that it's noncommittal.

This calls for a celebration so you pick up your drink and drain every last drop of it, delightfully gasping once you swallow it.

"Round 2?" Chan offers.

"Yes."

Now that you've made up your mind about it and from the subtle signals he's sending you so far, it's safe to say that he's up to do no good with you. You smooth down the hem of your dress and flip your hair to the back, preparing yourself to execute plan number four: Make your intention known.

As much as you feel tempted to say 'Chris, let's fuck!' right to his face, you decide not to be haste and go with a more convenient, acceptable way. You plan to be forthright about your intention what you want and if he wanted the same too so the two of you can skip the formalities and go straight to the fucking.

"Chris, I have something to tell you," you say to him.

He positions his body slightly turns to the side to face you and softly smiles, "You can tell me."

You've mustered up the courage and have the words prepared in your head only for the moment to be ruined by your phone ringing in your purse.

"Fuck..." you quietly mutter to yourself, you could sense your courage shrinking inside you.

The phone has stopped ringing but you grab your purse on the space next to you and pull it out to check the caller. A new text message appears on your screen.

Call me. It's urgent. Your friend wrote in her text along with multiple red exclamation marks.

It seems rather urgent, you put on an apologetic smile at Chan and say, "I'm sorry but do you mind if I make a quick call?"

"Not at all," Chan says with an easy smile.

You take your phone with you as you get up from the sofa, leaving the booth at the same time the waiter comes with your second round of drinks.

Finding the way to the restroom, you hit the call button as you enter and stand in front of the sinks, waiting for your friend to pick up while checking for your hair and make-up in the mirror.

"What's the urgency?" You say the second you hear the call being picked up.

"I need to borrow your laptop. Mine is suddenly frozen and I can't reboot it," your friend answers in a rather distressed tone.

Knowing that it's not the kind of urgent you imagined in your head, you let out a sigh of relief and then say, "Yes, yes you can use my laptop."

"I'm already in the elevator to your floor."

"You have the code to my apartment and I'm sure you know where I put my laptop," you calmly tell her, putting the strands of hair to the side and carefully dabbing the skin under your eyes.

"Wait. You're not home?"

"I'm not and I'm not taking any more questions," you immediately stop her before she gets too nosy.

"Don't call me for the rest of the night. Bye!" You don't wait for a response and quickly hang up.

On the way back to your booth, you see Chan enjoying the jazz performance on the stage, tapping his foot against the floor. You didn't notice the way he sat until now, his legs spread open, he's slightly slumped and his long arm rests along the edge of the sofa, plus he left the top three buttons on his shirt open.

Chan looks so hot simply by sitting like that and you're sure you've seen much hotter men but you really can't remember when.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and slide into the booth again, then slowly sit on the sofa, leaving a gap between you and him.

"Here's your drink," he says, handing the glass to you with such caution.

"Thank you!" You mutter your gratitude.

You're glad that you're taking the recommendation because the Hemingway Daiquiri tastes so refreshing, it's sweet and sour, certainly an upscale from the classic daiquiri.

"I hope the call wasn't something bad," he says to you.

You lick your lips after taking a sip, "Oh, no. It was my friend. She needs to borrow something," you spare him from the details.

It takes a minute to remember where you left the conversation and when you finally recall, you need to take more time to prepare yourself again. You immediately take another sip to quicken the process of building up your courage.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He suddenly comes up with an unexpected request.

Your throat burns from accidentally swallowing your alcohol too fast and you can feel your eyes get teary as well.

"Sure," you manage to answer.

Somehow the gap you purposely put between you and him disappears, he sits so close to you that his knee bumps into yours.

"I've been stalking your Instagram page," he shares with a shy smile.

You snort because he makes it seem like it's an embarrassing thing to say, but you doubt if that's true, he could be saying that to make you feel flattered.

"As far as I can recall, you've been abandoning your account until today," you say, hardly believing his so-called secret.

"That's because I'm using a fake Instagram account," he simply answers.

You snort again and roll your eyes at him, "Yeah, sure."

Chan smirks and picks up his phone, he opens Instagram to show the fake Instagram account he made and it only has one following, you.

"Do you believe me now?"

It's hard to stay calm when you find out that the guy who broke your heart two years ago has secretly been keeping up with you through your social media. You're happy but a part of you is still in denial.

"I mean... why not use your own Instagram?" you ask out of pure curiosity because it's not like you'd mistake this as a sign that he wants to get back with you. You're not that naive nor delusional.

"Then you would know that I regret breaking up with you," he casually answers like he didn't just reveal something profound.

You look at him to check if he's just messing with you and you would know if he's lying cause he's bad at it, but nope, he's telling the truth.

"And you would know that I've been struggling to get over you," he continues with glints filling his doe eyes.

There's an alarm going off in your chest, it's coming from the heart and it's telling you to be cautious, potential heartbreak lies ahead. You get reminded that you came here not to confront your feelings, you came here to get fucked, hopefully hard.

"And I guess you posted your boxing video for a purpose?" You ask with your eyebrow raised at him.

"Well..." he shrugs and slyly grins, "it worked, didn't it?"

As expected, this man has so many tricks up his sleeves. Better be careful as he puts all of his attention on you, his arm slowly makes its way around your shoulder and his hand is playing with your hair.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No comment," You smirk and take a small sip of your drink.

Chan lets out a laugh, the sonorous one and the kind that makes his eyes form two crescents. He takes a sip of his Boulevardier which is an upscale version of negroni.

"I've been wondering why you stayed single for so long," he says with an underlying tone, implying that he's actually asking you the reason why. Also confirmed his secret stalking behavior.

"It's not that long," you reply, crossing your legs together as you flash him a sly smile.

"A year, isn't it?" He asks.

You groan and roll your eyes at him, "You really are a stalker."

"You can tell me," he playfully elbows your side.

"No. It's a secret," you refuse to share.

"I shared my secret with you and it's only fair if you share yours with me."

"First of all, I didn't ask for your secret," you defend yourself while holding your drink close to your mouth.

He leans to your side, offering his ear at you as he says, "You can whisper it to me."

He means to know the answer anyway so you lean into his ear and cover the side of your mouth, then whisper, "All the guys I've met, they don't have a big cock like yours."

That's a way to get his attention and escalate the tension between the two of you. You pull away with a devilish smirk dancing on your face.

You glance down at his crotch and ask, "Is it still as big as I remember?"

"If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," he plays coy about it and you find it extremely attractive.

Noticing that you've drained your drink, Chan waves his hand to get the two of you another round of drinks. Obviously, you don't want it to end when things have just started to warm up.

He looks at you and then glances down, showing his hand snaking its way to your thigh.

"Have I told you that it's a nice dress?"

"I don't mind hearing it one more time," you respond with a cheeky smile.

He shoots you a big grin while he's playing with the hem of your dress, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

"It's a nice dress," he compliments, then leans in close so that you can feel his warm breath brush your cheek as he adds, "And I want to take it off of you tonight."

You place your hand on his hand that rests on your thigh and play with his bracelet, "if you're lucky, you'll get to do it," you poke fun at him.

You can audibly hear his laugh in your ear as he leans in closer his nose pokes your cheek, "We're even now."

The third drinks bring the tension higher as the two of you relax from every sip and the gap between your bodies gradually disappears.

Chan has his eyes on you all the time, it's overwhelming at times but you like the way he looks at you like an animal who has his eyes on its prey and you like seeing the confliction in his eyes on whether he should eat you whole or play with his food first.

There's so much chemistry and tension here, plus the alcohol, you're only waiting for the light to turn bright green, really.

He gently brushes your hair to the side and keeps it there so he can plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, knowing that it's your sensitive part of body.

"You change your perfume?"

"Yes," you manage to remain calm despite the proximity and the way he constantly rubs your thigh with his knuckle.

He drags his lips to your ear and asks, "What is it called?"

You lick your lips and make him wait for your answer, "I believe it's called Good Girl Gone Bad."

He tilts his head to the side and looks at you right in the eyes, wide and dark with lust, "How bad?"

You grab the collar of his shirt and tug at it, "If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," you get back at him again.

As he bursts out laughing with his eyes closed, you follow your intrusive thought to cup his jaw with your hand and laugh along.

"That's two to one," you remind him.

He stops laughing only to fondly smile at you, "Remind me how I broke up with you."

"For a start, you acted like an absolute jerk that day," you half-jokingly say.

The truth is it wasn't the breakup that hurt you the most, it's the post-break-up and his total absence from your life, he didn't call or text, or even send a pity email after that day. It felt as if he didn't want you in his life anymore.

Fuck. How did you get here again? Forced to face your feelings. Time to shift the talk.

"It's getting late, don't you think?"

Chan immediately reaches for his phone on the table to check the time, "It's 10.51."

"Oh," you plainly respond and finish you drink.

"Can I have your new numbers?" He suddenly asks.

You put down your glass on the table and answer, "I still have the same phone numbers."

"Yeah but I lost my phone at the airport and had to get a new one, lost all of my contacts," he explains like he knew you thought about how he didn't call you earlier.

Chan hands you his phone so you can enter your phone numbers and hand it back to him once you've finished. He hits the call button instead of saving it first and your phone rings a second later.

"Come on. Pick it up!" He tells you.

You obey him, accepting his phone call even though he's sitting next to you, "Hello?"

"Hi, it's future Chris calling," he says with a mix of foolish and sexy grin, you don't know how but he does it so well.

Curious to see where this talk is going, you decide to play along with him, "If you are really from the future, can you tell me the lottery numbers for this week?"

"I... can't tell you that."

"I'm hanging up," you joke.

"But I can tell you something else."

"Not interested," you put away your phone from your ear.

He glares at you, forcing you to continue playing along with him, "Hear me first!"

"Okay, I'm listening," you say with a dramatic eye roll.

"Future Chris says you need to go to hotel room number 103 tonight."

"Uhm... why?"

"You have to go there if you want to get lucky," he says with his tongue slightly poking out on one corner of his mouth.

"Still not interested," you poke fun, pretending to hang up the phone again.

"You'll regret it," he teases.

"I doubt that," you say with your nose scrunched at him.

Chan gets a little annoyed now, you can tell by the way he has his tongue poking his cheek and the fed-up grin on his face.

"Don't you want to get lucky tonight and find out about..." he pauses as he reaches for the pendant of your necklace and turns it over in his fingers, "the thing you're curious of."

This is it then, your intention matched his intention and the light has turned bright green. You take his hand and put it down onto your lap, then you slide your hand into his palm, "Okay."

"Okay," He says, holding your hand in his then brings it close to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

-

As you're waiting for the elevator to arrive, Chan steadily places his hand on the arch of your back and lingers there until the elevator chimes open.

He lets you get in first and you choose to stand on the side, close to the panel full of numbers of the hotel floors and he reaches for it to push the number to his floor.

Should you consider yourself lucky that the elevator is empty? Should you be nervous because you're starting to feel like a prey being locked with its predator inside a small, enclosed space?

No words are being exchanged as the two of you locked in a gaze, but he speaks so much through his eyes, they're fiery, filled with so much want, so much need, and ultimately, desire.

After that much teasing, flirting, alcohol, chemistry, and tension, you've been wondering how the two of you managed to not kiss each other already.

It seems like he's about to make it happen as he comes closer to you, putting his hands on the handlebar and caging you in between. Slowly, he brings his hand close to your face and carefully puts away the strands of hair covering your face to the side, then tucks it behind your ear.

In this proximity, you can see how plush his lips are, how soft and full they are, and it's getting too hard to try to ignore. You look at him, telling him how much you want to kiss him through your eyes and deliberately blink to give him the unspoken permission to kiss you.

The heating moment gets interrupted by the sound of the elevator chimes open and a group of people gets in from the fourth floor.

"Excuse me," a man says as he reaches for the panel to press the number to his floor.

With his hand on your back again, Chan protectively guides you to take a step forward and stands behind you, he puts his arm around your waist with his hand resting on your abdomen.

There's a low chatter going on from the other corner of the elevator but the absence of silence doesn't make it less tense as Chan buries his nose in your hair, you can feel every breath he inhales on the nape of your neck. It feels hot and cold at the same time, making you tingling inside.

He then presses his mouth to your ear and softly whispers, "You're still using the same shampoo, mmh?" His lips graze your ear as he speaks.

Chan puts his other arm on you and quietly, pulls you closer until your back meets his chest, that way you can feel him behind you and his body heat that slowly melts you from the inside.

Quietly, he slides his hand down to the curve of your ass cheek and then gently squeezes the flesh.

"My God, this body..." he whispers with his breath tickles your body, "Makes me want to ruin you so much."

Is it wrong that you don't even want to hide it anymore? You want everyone in the elevator to hear what he just said to you and for a split second, you want Chan to fuck you right there and let everyone watches.

However, Chan suddenly lets go of you and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. Then you notice that the little screen above the panel shows that the elevator is about to stop on the 10th floor.

When it chimes open, you make your way out with Chan trails behind you. None of you look back but keep walking ahead with his hand resting on the arch of your back again, leading you to where his room is. His hand goes lower and lower the further you walk through the hotel corridor.

"This way," he says, guiding your body to take the left corridor.

Without warning, he grabs you by the waist and roughly pulls you with him until he hits his back against the wall, then crashes his mouth on you.

This is not your shared first kiss but this is somehow better than that. The feeling of your lips finally reunited in a rapturous kiss especially when you've been craving it oh, there's nothing like it!

Chan kisses you so hard, so deep, so passionately that you have a hard time returning it to him and breathing becomes a second priority to you.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he mutters when he lets go of the kiss.

Still gasping for air, you nod and say, "Me too."

To your surprise, he turns you over and has you pinned against the wall this time, he pushes his body against yours as he seeks to be as close to you as possible until there's no inch of gap left between your bodies.

When he deems that you need to breathe, he lets go of your lips only to kiss you on your neck and you tip your head to the side to give him the free access. You let out a low moan as his teeth faintly scrape the skin.

His hands run amok, feeling you all over and touching you through your clothes, eventually his hand cups your breast in his. He kisses your lips again only to distract you from his hand trying to pull down the front of your dress and after a few tries, he manages to send your breast spilling which he wastes no time to take it in his mouth.

"Oh..." The moan just slipped out of your mouth and you hurriedly press your lips together to shut yourself up, aware that you're in a hotel corridor and the hotel guests might hear it, oh and also, someone may walk in on you making out in the hotel corridor.

He leaves your breast wet with his saliva when he lets go and goes straight to kiss you again, putting his weight against you and hoisting your leg around him.

It's getting hard to stay quiet as he starts to dry hump you, you can feel the friction of his clothed erection on you, big and bulging, highly arousing.

Hearing footsteps coming, he hurriedly fixes your dress and takes your hand, this time, leading you right to his hotel room. He swiftly unlocks the door with his keycard and pushes the door inward.

"Come in," he softly mutters, keeping the door open to let you in.

Once you're both inside, the obscenity continues. Nothing is stopping you from coming at each other and ripping each other's clothes. Your dress is the first to go then his shirts, they're lying on the carpeted floor now.

As you lips continuously latch with his, Chan swiftly unbuckles his belt and zips open his fly, he pulls his erection out of its confine.

Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hand and puts it around his hardening member. You gasp at how hot it feels in your hand, how hard it is that you can feel the veins coiling around his length.

He pulls away and looks down to see your hand holding his cock, "Is it as big as you remember?"

You suck air through your teeth and then say, "I'm not sure."

You start to slowly pump his length in your hand and look up at him, "but there's a way I can know for sure."

His eyebrow raised in question, "You do?"

"Uh-huh," you answer, leaning in to kiss him.

From his lips, you begin a trail of kisses to his neck and his chest next, then down to his sculpted abs until your knees hit the carpeted floor.

Something about kneeling in front of him and he's looking down on you with a mix of excitement and anticipation in his eyes arousing you in a whole new way.

In return, you look back at him, innocently blinking your eyes at him all the while your hand keeps stroking his cock in front of you.

"Can I?" You ask him with your thumb softly rubbing the tip of his cock.

He puts his hands in your hair, brushing your hair and gathering them in the back of your head, making a makeshift ponytail with his hand, "Yes."

Without looking away from him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, then slowly, you take him in your mouth. You take him little by little and give yourself time to adjust yourself to his size which you think is somewhat bigger than you remember.

Wanting to impress him, you push yourself to take more of him but you're too haste and his cock hits the back of your throat so fast, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately pull away before you embarrass yourself more and look away as you let out a cough.

"Still too big for me," You say with a shy chuckle.

Chan places his hand on your cheek and tenderly caresses it, "Too big for you, mmh?"

You nod with your puppy eyes at him.

"But you're taking it so well," he coos, now wiping your chin with his thumb.

You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly pump it, "Yeah?"

"Yes," he mutters with a soft smile.

The truth is you're not a big fan of giving blow jobs and you're not very confident in your skill, but he remains sweet and patient with you and you believe it's because he knows.

Chan makes you feel safe and comfortable enough to make you want to do it again.

"Let me just..." you don't finish your sentence but do it all over again.

You remind yourself to take it slow, regulate your breathing, and keep calm, it's even better if you can try to enjoy doing it.

To compensate for the rest that you can't take in your mouth, you use your hand and alternate between sucking and licking.

"See? You're taking me so well," he softly mutters, delicately tucking your hair behind your ear.

It doesn't take long for you to find your rhythm and slowly enjoying yourself giving him head, you're even humming in pleasure with your mouth full of him.

Seeing his reactions and hearing the lewd noises coming out of your mouth, encourages you to keep going despite your jaws getting tired and your knees are hurting from kneeling too long.

In between his low moans, he manages to mutter sweet nothings to you.

"Oh, that pretty mouth!"

"You're just too good."

"Oh... Too good at this!"

After a few minutes though, you sense that you needed a break so you slowly pull out and replace your mouth with your hand.

"You like that?"

"Very much," he answers without a beat.

He offers his hand to help you get up from the floor and pulls you close, hoisting your body against him knowing that you're probably tired from kneeling too long.

"You're getting too good, it's dangerous," he whispers to you with both hands cupping your ass cheeks.

You giggle and let him have your lips in him again, you're opening your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper while he hoists you higher until your feet are lifted off the floor.

Chan carries you to the bed and gently lays you down on the bed, he removes his jeans first before joining you, lying next to you on the bed.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a kiss on your lips, "So, is it as big as you remember?"

You tangle your hand in his soft curls, "Jury's still out," you answer with a sly smile.

Chan glares at you as a grin slowly blossoms on his face, he offers his arm as your pillow and then pulls you closer to him, that way, he can comfortably plant his lips on yours again.

As he keeps you busy with his kisses, his hand is making its way down south and not stopping until it lands on your clothed cunt. He smirks against your lips the second he slips his fingers under, meeting your wetness.

"That wet for me, mmh?" He murmurs.

You coyly shrug and shoot him a smirk just to provoke him.

"Well, I'm honored," he says with his fingers tracing your folds and running it up and down your slit.

When he starts playing with your clit, you know you no long can keep your cool anymore. The cold that comes from the metal of his chain bracelet adds a different sensation to the hot and wetness of your cunt.

"Goodness..." you breathlessly gasp as he inserts his finger into you.

"I know you can take one more," he mutters with his mouth pressed to your ear, then proceeds to add another digit.

His two long fingers are inside you now, pumping them in and out of you, and curls them to find that spot that makes you—

"Chris! Oh, fuck!" You curse and grip his shoulder hard enough your nails dug into the skin.

He's enjoying it from the way his head hovers above you and peacefully observing your face, wanting to see all of your reactions to his delightful assault.

He has his mouth sucking on your breast now and the other is being fondled by his other hand, the other hand is busy making a mess out of you.

You're squirming on the bed with your waist upheld in the air and shamelessly arching your back at him, seeking more of him inside you.

Chan knows when to stop, he teases you enough to prepare you for what comes next. He slows down his hand motions and slowly pulls them out. He doesn't let go yet but keeps his hand inside your underwear, playing with your clit.

A moment later, he draws his hand out of your underwear and rubs his fingers coated with your arousal on his lips, "Taste yourself on me," he says.

Seeing his lips wet with your essence is rather arousing and you don't hesitate at all to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. The kiss feels exceptionally kinky and you thought you couldn't be more aroused than this.

Without letting go of the kiss, he hovers above you and props his elbows against the mattress, "Are you still on the pills?"

You swallow air before answering, "Yeah."

He places a sweet peck on your lips then looks at you, "Is it okay if we do it without protection?"

Maybe deep down you know you can trust him and it wouldn't be the first time you're doing it with him without a layer of protection so you find it easy to agree to it and nod.

"Okay," you say, also providing him a verbal consent.

He smiles at you and lowers his mouth on you again, he continues the kisses down your front. His hands tugging at the elastic band of your underwear and pulling it down as he continues the kisses down to your legs.

The bed quakes as Chan gets off the bed and he's just standing there, looking at you and your naked body for his eyes to lust on. You catch him inhaling and exhaling air like he's overwhelmed by what he's seeing.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters with a delightful sigh.

It would be the only normal response to get flustered under his lustful eyes, you look away from him and say, "Just get in here, Chris!"

He surprises you by jumping onto the bed, making the bed quakes once more and he immediately puts his lips on yours again.

"Turn over for me," he softly whispers to you ear.

Without saying a word, you obey him, turning over on the bed and getting on your fours, kneeling with your hands propped against the mattress in front of you.

Chan positions himself behind you and then with so much care, he puts all of your hair away onto one shoulder so he can place kisses on your back. His hands freely roam around your body.

In your opinion, Chan has the most attractive pair of hands, it's warm and firm with veins snaking on the back of his hand, and of course, long fingers that know how to find your most sensitive spot. Now, they're on you, going all over you and feeling you all over.

"I almost forgot how soft you are," he murmurs.

He then brings his hands to your chest to play with your mounds, he hums in pleasure as he sees your breasts mold perfectly in his hands.

"Like they were made just for me," he sighs.

It's like his attractiveness and his big cock aren't enough, Chan has to have a smart mouth too, a mouth that knows what to say and how to say it.

Then again, you're just a girl and you're prone to sugary sweet words like that. You look over your shoulder and smile at him, not expecting that he's going to capture your lips in a kiss.

He slides one hand down to your throbbing cunt again, making sure it's wet enough for him to penetrate. He gently pushes you to the front so he can aim his cock at your entrance and then slowly, he guides you to take him in.

"Oh... ah..." you moan, crumpling the sheet underneath you.

And you almost forget how big he is until he's inside you and you get so high that you blank out, you're there on all fours and merely just a vessel.

Not giving you another minute to adjust, Chan moves back and pulls his cock out only to push it deeper inside you. He then wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly while you're flailing against him like a rag doll.

"You feel so good," he whispers, his breath is hot and heavy in your ear, "So fucking tight around me."

He brings his hand down to rub your clit, adding gentle pressure as he's circling on it.

"I'm going to move, okay?" He says to you with a slobbering kiss on your shoulder.

Unable to form a coherent answer, you repeatedly nod in answer.

The sploshing sound of his fingers incessantly rubbing your clit intensify along with the pace of his thrusting. Chan either has his lips on your lips or plants them on your shoulder, either way, he does it to muffle his groans.

This is what happens when his hand and his cock joint forces, you find yourself on the brink of orgasm when all you've been doing is filling the room with your high-pitched moans.

"Oh, I'm cumming," you whine, holding onto the sheet as waves of pleasure surging all over you.

Chan slows down but does not stop thrusting into you, he kisses your neck and shoulder as you relish your orgasm. He keeps you close with his slung across your chest.

"Chris?" You breathlessly call his name.

"Yes, baby?" He answers your call and you guess the pet name unintentionally slipped out of his mouth.

Not going to lie, it gets you fluttering to hear him call you baby. You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close to kiss him.

After a while, you start to doubt that the fluttering feeling came from Chan calling you with a pet name. You think it's because you're getting your second orgasm.

"What should I do, Chris?" You whine against his mouth

He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a concerned look, "Huh?" Chan confusingly asks.

"I'm about to cum again," you shamelessly admit.

Chan lets out a low chuckle and presses a kiss on your lips, "Then let's cum together, yeah?" he simply resolves.

He draws you close to him until your back hits his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you to hold you steady as he adds more speed to his thrust.

"Chris, oh..." you moan while holding onto his forearm.

His hands slithering around, one hand squeezing on your breast and the other wrapped around your neck. His mouth nests in the crook of your neck, grunting in pleasure and at times, sucking on your skin to muffle his noises.

"Oh, you keep clenching, baby," he mutters, followed by a broken moan.

That is probably because his cock is deep inside you, it's engorging and pulsating, filling you whole and continuously rubbing against your velvety walls, making the knot in your stomach tighten with each passing second.

Getting weak on the knees, you collapse onto the bed and Chan hurriedly holds you by the waist as he maintains the pace.

"I'm close, I'm close," you tell him repeatedly with one side of your face pressed against the bed.

Chan groans as he pushes his cock as shallowly as possible inside you, "Almost there," he says through his gritted teeth.

The previous orgasm makes you more sensitive than before and you can't hold yourself back anymore so you slowly let go and let the pleasure take over you once more.

Meanwhile, Chan hovers behind you and takes your hands, he holds them by the wrists then pin them against the bed as he restlessly thrusts into you to chase his high.

"Want me to cum inside you?" He asks, still thoughtful as you remember

"Uh-huh, yeah," you manage to answer even with your brain close to short-circuit.

Getting the permission is all he needed to get to his release. Then moment he finally come undone, he lets out a hoarse yet the most beautiful moan you ever heard, then lets himself lay on top of you.

A moment passes in contented silence and Chan presses a long kiss on the nape of your neck, then softly asks, "Are you okay?"

Not getting an answer, he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face to check it himself, "Did I go too rough on you?" He asks again with a slight concern.

You allow yourself to take a few more seconds to gain your composure and instead of answering, you foolishly grin at him and say, "That was so fucking good."

In response, Chan brightly smiles then pecks your lips, "No, but seriously, are you okay?"

You nod at him, "I'm okay."

After hearing your confirmation, he lets out a sigh of relief and then kisses you again, longer than the previous one.

"Sweet break?"

You don't expect him to say that after a long time, you smile and nod, "Sweet break."

-

Sweet break is something you used to say to each other when you need to take a break from something by eating something sweet. Like now, for instance, you and him taking a break from sex to order something sweet from the room service.

"Bad news is the kitchen is closed" Chan announces the second you come out of the bathroom.

It would be bothersome to put on your dress so you put on Chan's shirt instead, buttoning it as you join him on the sofa, "And the good news?"

He opens the food cover to show you what he got from the room service, "They're still serving desserts," he says with a grin.

The two of you huddle together around the plates of desserts and eating them on the sofa, filling the room with the sounds of your chewing and the dessert spoon scraping the plate.

It's fascinating to watch Chan casually eat his chocolate cake like he didn't just fuck the brains out of you a while ago. You let out a low chuckle and get back to your crepes.

"What's so funny?" He asks, catching you quietly chuckling to yourself.

"Nothing," you answer with a shrug.

He glares at you and decides to invade your plate with his fork, stabbing at the sliced banana and then shoving it into his mouth.

"Hey, eat your own dessert," you scold him but let him collect more bananas from your plate.

"But you don't like bananas," he says in between his chews.

"I don't like bananas but that doesn't mean I can't eat them," you say, but proceed to put the bananas to the side of the plate.

"I'm eating it for you so you only eat what you like," he says with a proud grin.

It's endearing that he still remembers little things like this. The sweet break, your dislike toward a certain and even how many of his fingers you like to have inside you. You can't help but wonder if he remembers other things too. His feelings for you, perhaps?

"Want to order another one?"

The two of you shared and finished the last plate together, even though you feel like you can have another plate, you refuse the offer.

He puts the plates away to the side of the room and returns to the sofa, lifting your legs before he sits next to you and then puts your legs on his lap.

"What's that café with the salted caramel cookies?" He suddenly asks.

"The one with butternut latte?" You ask back to check.

He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and plays with your hair, "Is it still open?"

Damn. He even still remembers that one café you regularly visited when the two of you were still dating.

"Yes," you answer with a smile.

"Man. Those are the best cookies!" he sighs with his fingertips lightly rubbing your thigh.

"I mean, we can go there tomorrow if you want," you casually say or you hope it sounds casual, it's a friendly offer.

He stops playing with your hand and cups your jaw, "I would love to," he says.

From the way his smile slowly dims, you sense a 'but' coming. Oh no, you sense a regret coming. You shouldn't have offered it in the first place.

"But I have to leave tomorrow," he says.

"Oh?" You try to remain unbothered and keep your facial expression in check, "Tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. I have to take care of a few things back home," he explains.

By back home, he means Australia and he'll fly out tomorrow, and probably for good. You hate that you get sad like it would be the first he's done it to you.

He holds you by the chin and slowly brings your head close to place a chaste kiss on your lips, it's so tender that you feel a tug at your chest.

"Thank you for coming to see me," he sincerely says with his eyes wide and shining for you.

This is where you start losing the objective of why you're here, you came here to solely get fucked, not expecting anything but his cock inside you.

Time to put some sense into your head and laugh it off, "Oh, my God, Chris!" You gasp out loud.

His forehead wrinkles in question, "What?"

"Yes, we can fuck again, no need to try so hard," you say with a sassy eye roll.

Learning that he's being pranked, he squints his eyes at you with his tongue pokes his cheek. While clutching his chest, he says, "Gosh, I thought—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you shut him up with a kiss because you don't want to keep talking about your feelings or get reminded of how things were when you were still together. You kiss him because you want to forget.

"You thought what?" You ask as you sit on his lap.

He licks his lips and shakes his head, "Nothing."

He's more than glad to have you sitting on his lap as it allows him to hold you close. His hands trail the sides of your body until they eventually land on your ass and then eagerly fondle them in his hands. Catching you off guard, he lands a slap on your ass cheek.

"Chris!" You shriek, abruptly stop kissing him, "That stings!"

"Can't help it," he innocently says while laughing and then pulls you close to kiss you again before you scold him more.

As a safety measure, you take his hands from your ass and fold them together on his chest but he takes it to his advantage, he finds another playground for his lewd hands.

Doesn't want to waste time unbuttoning it, he slips his hand under your shirt to fondle your breast, circling his fingers around your nipple before pinching at it.

He then lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cool night air, and wastes no time to bury his head in between your mounds. He then pulls the shirt down and hides himself in it, acting like a toddler by purposely placing ticklish kisses on you to make you laugh

"Stop playing," you scold him with your hand tangled in his curls, "Let's go to bed, mmh?"

Chan pops his head out through the opening of the shirt and looks at you, "Kiss me first," he demands.

How can you say no when he looks at you with fondness in his eyes and a smile on his face? You fulfill his wish and place a long, lingering kiss on his lips.

"Can we go now?" You say the second you pull away from the kiss.

"Okay," he obliges.

He gets out of your shirt first and you get off his lap next, then starts walking toward the bedroom when Chan suddenly comes from behind you and hoists you up, looking unbothered carrying you on his shoulder.

"To the bed!" He announces, then slaps the back of your thigh.

"Chris!" You scold again but you can't do anything about it as you hang upside-down on his back.

The bed is already a mess and it seems like it's going to get even messier with the way Chan constantly has you pinned under him. He kisses your lips, softly yet hungrily like devouring an ice cream.

Aware that he has taken his turn, Chan doesn't complain when you flip him over and take it over from him. You're straddling him, rubbing his cock between your slit while he's unbuttoning your shirt open.

You find yourself wet for him again in no time and his cock is as hard as you need it to be, maybe this is why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are always horny for each other.

You let out a low, long moan the whole time you lower yourself on him and a seductive chuckle slips out of your mouth the second he's fully buried inside you.

When you look down at him, you find him staring at you with his mouth agape. You slyly smile and place both of your hands on his glorious pecs, "Have you always been this big?"

Chan licks his lips and rests his hands on your thighs, "And have you always been this tight?" He asks back instead of answering.

Being on top gives you the freedom to set a pace you prefer and switch positions as you like, more importantly, you can fully enjoy every bit of it. But it's working because Chan is such a great partner, he lets you have full control and lets you take your time.

If not using his hands to touch you all over, he has his hands folded under his head and quietly enjoying watching you fucking him.

"If you keep clenching around me like that, I might cum too fast," he tells you.

"I'm okay with that," you calmly respond.

To tease him more, you purposely keep clenching around him and rolling your hips in circular motions. Somehow you stop focusing on getting your high and start thinking about how to please him more.

"Oh," he loudly groans and his hand grips at your waist, "You're bad!"

You giggle in response while continuing to roll your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion.

"Oh, you're really, really bad," he says with ragged breath.

The sex may not be as hard or as intense as the previous one but it's just as good, even better. Maybe it's the unwavering eye contact, maybe it's the way he hisses every time you tease him, or the way he trusts you to make him feel good.

Whatever it is, you feel like sharing an intimate moment with him and you can't lie, it feels special.

"Are you close?" You ask because you're very close to your climax.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that," he hastily answers, still able to joke in a heating moment like this.

You take him along with you to the edge and not stopping until the two of you come to your release, you keep moving at a sloppy pace to ride out the high.

Chan pulls you close, forcing you to lower yourself onto his body and accidentally sending his cock to slip out. You don't mind it at first but you can feel his hot cum dripping out of you and onto his abdomen.

You break the kiss and mutter in panic, "It's dripping."

"I'll put it back in," he simply responds, reaching down for his cock and slowly pushes it back into you.

Now that it's resolved, he puts his arms around you again and pulls you even closer until your bodies mold into one another, then kisses you more.

Without looking and breaking the kiss, he pulls the duvet and covers both of your bodies with it, ready to end the night with your bodies still connected.

"Have I told you this?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

He looks at you with his brown eyes that looks like a nice cup of cocoa, comforting and warm.

"I miss you," he ever softly says.

There he goes again, making you debate whether you came here for the sex or to try to rekindle old sparks with him. But in all honesty, it feels good to know that the yearning goes both ways.

For once, you let your heart answer it for you.

"I miss you too, Chris," you mutter back with a smile.

And now you start debating if seeing him tonight is indeed a bad idea.

-

There's a wet, squelching sound when you first come to your senses the next morning, you feel like sleeping for another hour or two but you also feel the urge to check what that noise is all about.

You force open your eyes and find out right away the source of that wet, squelching sound, it's coming from Chan and he has his mouth latched to your breast.

"Morning, Chris," you croak as you brush your hair away from your face.

He lets go of your breast with a loud pop and looks at you, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," you answer, putting your hand in his fluffy bedhead.

"I'm sorry," he says but not looking like it.

"Are you? Sorry?" You jokingly say and lay back on your pillow.

He slyly grins and shifts his focus back to playing with your mounds. He holds your breast up and uses his slick tongue to tease your nipple, alternating between licking and sucking.

It's normal to feel horny in the morning and, you find yourself already wet under there, you guess Chan has been helping himself while you were still sleeping.

Chan's head hangs above your chest and you can see how much he's enjoying your breasts, playing with them like a toddler, he even makes noises as he fills his mouth with your ample flesh.

"Aren't you leaving today? Shouldn't we get up and shower?" You mutter, softly scratching his scalp as you talk.

He sucks at your breast so hard and pulls it before letting it go, grinning as he is satisfied with what he just did.

"My flight is in the afternoon," he says.

"And I'd better go so you can pack—"

"But I already ordered breakfast," he whines like a fussy child.

"Well, we can shower first."

"They'll send breakfast at 8," he shares with a wild grin.

You turn your head to check the time on the clock hanging on the wall, "But it's hardly 7."

"Exactly!" He exclaims.

"Exactly what?" You ask in genuine confusion.

He buries his head in your neck and whispers, "We have an hour before breakfast."

Despite catching on to his intention, you decide to act dumb, "And?"

"And..." he inhales your scent before hovering above you, "I'll have my breakfast first."

He winks at you then goes under the duvet, and settles himself between your legs to have his so-called breakfast and it only makes sense that it progresses to intercourse.

Morning sex offers different things, it's the quiet, the peace, the slivers of morning sun shining through the cracks of the curtains, doing it with a refreshed mind and body, it's also the best way to start the day.

It's even better when you get to be a pillow princess, you just lay back and let Chan do all the handwork. He has your legs locked around his waist as he thrusts into you at a slow yet steady pace and in every thrust, he makes you feel every inch of his length rubbing against your walls.

"This is just great," he says with his face pressed to the side of your head.

"Mmh, what?" You respond as best as you can.

"I don't have to do cardio today," he says with a low chuckle.

This is your favorite kind of sex, do it by not taking it too seriously. Because in your opinion, other than it should be comfortable for the individuals involved, sex should be fun.

You kiss his open mouth and drag your lips down to his neck, then plant your mouth on his skin, sucking at it hard enough to form a hickey on it.

"What's that about?" He's rather dumbfounded instead of annoyed.

"Just trying to make it fair," you coyly say as you point to the blossoming mark he made on your breast.

"Yeah, okay," he says in defeat.

As much as you don't want the sex to end, it eventually ends but in a rather explosive, euphoric way. You feel like you've just been given another chance at life after that last orgasm.

"Who needs coffee, huh?" You sigh as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

It's a rhetorical question but Chan decides to respond to it anyway, "Not me, apparently."

Then you remember that he indeed doesn't drink nor need coffee to function, "Not you, apparently," you correct your earlier remark.

Chan carefully lowers himself on top of you and hastily kisses you, both of your teeth almost colliding.

"Thought I was still dreaming when I woke up next to you," he says, coming with another sentimental remark that evokes something deep within you.

You decide to push it further down and keep it there by saying, "Ugh. It's too early for that," you groan.

Chan weakly chuckles with his head nestled in your neck and just like the universe knows you need the distraction, the knocking comes on the door and it must be the breakfast.

You gently pat his head and say, "Now, go get my coffee!"

The morning continues with a quiet breakfast, it's obvious the reason why, the two of you burnt so many calories last night and need a reload.

Then there's the shower and you strongly refuse to share with him or else, it'll take much time. But Chan has an even stronger will and joins you anyway.

This is another reason why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are the same insatiable creatures.

The two of you dressed in silence and at times, catch him watching you, instead of feeling shy, you give him a proper show, bending down and wriggling your ass as you put your underwear on.

Chan enjoys every bit of it, he grins and bites his lips, tempted to come up at you, and goes at it again, but sadly, time is running out.

It's here, this is where it's going to end and you never know when you'll see him again, and that's even if you're still able to. You can only hope that he doesn't see how much you want him to stay.

"This is it then," you say, standing right in front of him in the foyer.

He takes your hand, loosely lacing his fingers with yours, "Can I still text you?"

"Sure," you answer.

"How about phone calls?"

"Booty calls only," you jokingly say.

He smiles and takes a step closer to you, you can almost see every moment the two of you shared last night flashes in his eyes, and it's achingly beautiful.

"Can I kiss you before you leave?"

You plan to make the goodbye as brief and as painless as possible but you don't want to risk losing the opportunity to make it a not-so-sad ending. But if you have to be honest, you simply want to kiss him.

"Okay," you agree with a nod.

You put your arms around his shoulders and let your body molds into him as he holds you close, you tilt your head up and close your eyes.

The moment your lips make contact, your heart bursts open and there's no way of stopping your feelings flow out of it so you let them be. You let him feel your pain, your yearning, and ultimately, your feelings for him that you try so hard to conceal, and then slowly, you pull away from the kiss before they fight their way out of your heart.

It's possible that Chan feels it too, that the kiss feels intimate, the kiss feels emotional, and a little close to the heart. He pulls you into a hug that lasts for a long time as if he tries to convey some unspoken messages too.

"No need to send me off," you tell him, not wanting to make it sadder than it already is.

Chan walks you to the door with his hand on the small of your back and then keeps it open for the final goodbye. You stand facing him and say, "Goodb—"

He puts his finger on your lips to stop you from finishing your sentence, "I'll see you when I see you."

That sounds like he indirectly promises you that one day, he'll come and see you again, and surprisingly, it only makes you uneasy.

You put on a smile and try another way to say goodbye, "Have a safe flight, Chris."

As you get into the back of the taxi, you get these familiar feelings and unfortunately, they're not the good kind. You feel like you went through the same thing before, you feel angry, you feel sad, and lost, and you feel this tightness in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. Then it hits you that it feels exactly like that day he broke up with you, this is the feeling of heartbreak.

In the end, you got your physical needs at the price of having to face your feelings and it all comes down to one conclusion: seeing him was a bad idea.

-

ONE MONTH LATER

It's like you're trapped in an endless loop, it's the weekend and you're lying on your bed, horny and bored.

Your phone is blaring with notifications and messages, you check and skim through them, they're from your friends or some other miscellaneous, you couldn't care less.

In other words, they're not the notifications you've been anticipating.

Chan has been diligently contacting you, sometimes he texted and when he's not, he calls you late at night because apparently, he's always busy during the day. The point is he always contact you by any means of communication.

However, for these past few days, it's been total radio silence. He's not even looking at the pictures you specifically posted to thirst-trap him. If only he knows how much time and energy you've spent just to get a single flattering shot of yourself. Ugh!

As you're about to spiral down, your phone dings and you consider ignoring it to spare you from getting disappointed all over again.

After a moment though, you cave in. You unlock your phone and get greeted by the very notification you've been dying to get.

What you doin'?

Busy running around in my head? He wrote a corny message and added a crying laughing emoji.

A week of no contact and that's the first thing he said? You scoff in disbelief and just stare at the messages, you've learned to make him wait for your reply and use the time to think of witty, flirty answers to his messages.

Am I running with clothes on or naked? You playfully ask back, giggling as you type it.

I think you know the answer. He wrote back with a winking emoji.

Let's hope I don't catch a cold then. You jokingly write in response.

You should stop cause it does things to me.

One minute he's corny, one minute he's cute, and the rest of the time? Hot, confident, and flirty, and you eat those shit up.

Things like what? You reply.

Like this. He wrote along with a picture.

Intrigued, you hurriedly click open the attachment and it's a picture he took of him in the mirror, wearing nothing but his white underwear. Your eyes feast on his glorious Greek God body, his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, and eventually your eyes flick down to the bulge inside his underwear.

In all honestly, it's the first thing that catches your eye because it's so fucking big and the underwear does nothing but enhance the shape and the size.

All of a sudden, you feel thirsty, literally and figuratively, and Chan knows how to make you keep swallowing air by sending you another picture.

The picture is of the same setting but in a rather different position, he's sitting on a chair, slightly slumped with his legs spread wide open and his hand holding his bulge.

Wish it was your hand.

Did he take a class on how to take good thirst traps and nudes? Because damn! Two pictures are enough to make you feel like an animal in heat.

Can I have it in my mouth instead?

Want to have you in my mouth.

Being straightforward mixed with the drooling emoji always works but what really does it is the one magic word: Please?

A minute later, there's no reply from him but your phone rings, he's calling you and you scramble to sit on the bed. You take a deep breath first before hitting the accept call button.

"Hello?"

"Gosh, I want you so much," He suddenly says, no greetings or small talk first. He goes straight to what he wants and you kind of dig that.

You giggle into the phone and playfully ask, "How much?"

"So fucking much," he emphasizes every word and lets out a heavy sigh after.

"Come and maybe I'll give it to you," you seductively say while playing with the lint on your denim shorts, "Maybe."

He chuckles and then jokingly says, "I'm on my way."

"Don't make me wait long," you play along with him but secretly wish that it's true.

You hear rustles from his end of the phone call and think he's probably calling you while lying on his bed but then, you hear the sound of bustling streets and car horns and—

"You're not really on the way, right?" You nervously ask, twisting the loose thread around your index finger.

"I told you, I'm coming," he coyly says.

Your heart skips a beat but he could be anywhere, he could be driving to work or you know, in a taxi in... Australia. Right?

"Chris..." you meekly call him.

"Yes?"

"Are you in the city?" You ask to confirm his location.

"Suprise!" He exclaims followed by a series of giggles.

Yes, you secretly wish that he was coming, but not now but not now and maybe, not ever because the last time you saw each other, things didn't end well for you.

So seeing him tonight is a bad idea, right?

"Why didn't you—" You don't know how to word it without sounding like you're not grateful for his surprise.

"I want to see you," he says, cutting through your silence, "Do you want to see me too?"

What should you do? You don't want him to come but at the same time, you want him to come. Oh, God, this is so confusing!

You want to lie so badly but your heart won't let you, "I want to see you," you openly admit.

"I'm coming so wait for me, yeah?" He softly mutters.

"Okay," you weakly reply.

"I'll see you in a bit," he says with a smile that you can hear through the phone.

"See you."

The second you hang up the call, you start pacing back and forth in your room. He'll be here anytime soon and it'll be just like that night all over again.

You almost jump when the knock comes on the door and you slowly walk to the door, just standing there with your hand on the knob, debating if you should ignore him and pretend you're not home.

The knocks come again and reflexively, you turn the knob and pull the door open.

There he is in a white shirt and blue jeans, the simplest way of dressing yet somehow, it looks incredibly stunning on him.

"Hi," he says with a sweet grin on his face.

His hair is slightly tousled, he smells incredible and those dimples have the power to make you soften around him almost immediately, they're your kryptonite.

"Hi," you say back, lingering by the doorway.

"Brought you wine," he says, showing the bottle of red wine in his hand.

You tilt your head to the side and fight the urge to jump at him and climb him like a tree.

"That's so nice of you," you say with a smile.

"Can I come in?" He asks, gesturing his head toward the inside of your apartment.

But it's a bad idea, right?

However, you find yourself nodding and you step aside, "You may come in."

Chan steps inside and you close the door behind you after. The second you turn around, he pushes you to the wall and crashes his lips against yours.

And you know what? Fuck it! It's fine.

-

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[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~!)

[iliketangerines]

Can you write a reader who’s like Twilight Sparkle from My little Pony. She looks like a normal human except that she’s rather tall for a woman ( around 6’9 ), can transform into either her half-Alicorn form with visible horn and wings or full-Alicorn form (Growing up watching MLP never realizing how OP Twilight would be in the MK verse so I hope you can write a reader that represents her energy)

Preferably with characters like Líu Kang; Rain; Raider; Bi-Han

friendship is magic

a/n: my god, i loved fluttershy when i was a little kid, my favorite of the mane six

pairing: liu kang x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Liu Kang bows to you as you land at the Wu Shi Academy, dust billowing about your wings as they flap and steady your tall figure

you raise up your head, wiping off dust from your shoulders of your outfit, and raise your hands to bow to Lord Liu Kang

your horn slightly curves upward toward the sun, and your wings fold back tightly behind you and looks more like a feathered cape as you glide towards him

you tower over him, and Liu Kang holds out his arm for you to take so that he can guide you through the academy and to his defenders

taking his arm, you smile at him and ask how he has been in the years you have seen him, and he gives a light chuckles and says that he has been fine

he tells you why he has summoned you today, his earthrealm defenders refuse to get along and almost pick fights with each other every day

it ends with more injuries than needed or wanted, and it is starting to hinder the progress of training with how they spat

only Raiden and Kung Lao seem to have a good relationship

you nod and tilt your head and let out a hum, and you ask to see them, wondering where they are

the question is answered when you hear shouting coming up ahead, and Liu Kang grimaces, eyebrows furrowing and lips pursing into a worried line

he lets go of your arm to hurry forward, and you follow quickly after him and gasp at the sight

Kenshi has Johnny on the ground, tearing at his hair and screaming insults, while Johnny shouts back even more vile ones and grabs onto face to smash it backward

Raiden is trying to pull Kenshi off of Johnny, and Kung Lao is nowhere to be found on the training grounds

you hear a shout from behind you and turn around to find him, hands on his knees as he gasps for air, and he says that he’s been looking for Lord Liu Kang

turning to your side, Lord Liu Kang is no longer there and is by Raiden’s side and easily pulls the enraged Kenshi off of the beaten-up actor

Johnny just laughs, sitting up, but there is something venomous in his tone and his brows are turned into an angry twist

he goes to lunge for the snarling Kenshi, and you sigh and stop the actor in his tracks, your magic floating around him as you keep him restrained in his stop

the actor looks a little bewildered at the sight of something restraining him, and you clear your throat and look at them with a hard glare and downturned lips

Liu Kang looks incredibly guilty and puts down the dishes of all your favorite foods as he sits down at dinner time

the rest of the day had been eventful and quite frustrating as you heard the story from both ends of the story from Johnny and Kenshi

for now, you would put that to the side and focus on their relationship with Raiden and Kung Lao and strengthen those relationships first

you eat your food in practiced measured bites as you think about what to focus on what activities they could perform together the next day

Lord Liu Kang sits in silence as he eats, watching you think and pick up your food with your magic as you write down your ideas on a pen paper

also with magic

finally, you put down the pen and paper and pick up the chopsticks with your hands, citing to Liu Kang that this was most probably one of the more difficult challenges he had given you

Liu Kang apologizes, not realizing how deeply their emotions run about the issue, and you say that it’s fine and that you will solve it as you always have done

running a hand over your necklace, you eat in concentrated silence, still thinking of what to do next, until you finish your food and say that you must visit someone for an opinion

with that, you stand up and walk to the courtyard, and Liu Kang can hear wings beating in the distance as you fly away

he knows where you are going, and he follows behind, being sure to make his presence known with the sound of his fire crackling at his fists

but you don’t seem to mind and fly through the night sky, eventually landing down at an orchard, decorated with all different types of flowers and trees

you land, reaching your hand up and plucking an apple, weaving through the trunks and the flower beds until you make it to five engraved stones

setting down the apple in front of them, you sit down carefully, brushing the dead leaves out of the way and making sure there were no bugs that you were sitting on

then you sit in front of them and close your eyes, back stiff and straight, and Liu Kang sits besides you, looking at the headstones of your beloved friends

there is no sound as you sit, barely the audible sound of your breath in the air, and Liu Kang wonders if you’re talking to your friends

he wishes he could do the same, find his friends, have a resting place for them, and speak to them again

time passes, and finally, you open your eyes again and look over to Liu Kang at your side and say that you know that he misses his friends, that he sees so much of them in his recruits

Liu Kang nods, picking at the grass by his side, and you say that you miss your friends too, having unfathomable amounts of magic makes you live for eons while they only live for a short while

the god understands, he had waited for eons to see his friends, and he will miss them for an eternity when they pass away into obscurity

you press your lips together and stand up, offering a hand to help Liu Kang up, and he gladly takes it to stand up again

the sun is starting to come up along the horizon, but you don’t move to fly back to the academy

rather you place another hand over Liu Kang’s and say that you are his friend as well, and if he ever wants to talk, you will be here for him

Liu Kang nods, smiling at you softly, before reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear

you smile and with a great flap of your wings, head back to the Wu Shi Academy with him by your side

[notglutenfresh]

I love the idea of James and Barty slowly becoming friends after they run into each other on the Quidditch pitch a few too many times after dark. Eventually, they just start flying with each other, and they will get upset if the other isn't there without informing them. They'll talk about nothing and everything.

James gets so comfortable with Barty that he lets it slip that he's bipolar, a fact that he tries to hide. But before he can even panic, Barty basically says, "Ayy, me too, mate." After that, James may as well have given Barty his heart on a plater because if he was able to share his most uncomfortable secret with him, then he will be able to trust him with his entire soul.

But James doesn't do things by halves. He even goes all in or doesn't do it at all. So it really wasn't a surprise when he ended up falling for Barty. He was slightly scared at first because Barty was a Slytherin and likely wasn't that great of a person outside of their nightly flying but James had never claimed to be a good person either so he just thought, "Fuck it."

Barty knew that something had shifted between them. At first, he couldn’t quite place what was different, but it didn't take him long to figure it out. Admittedly, Barty couldn’t have been more pleased to be the object of James Potter's affection, James was fit and also unnaturally nice. Realistically, Barty should have never had done anything about it, but he's selfish and wanted James more than anything.

So Barty kissed him, and for a couple of seconds, Barty thought he had it all wrong and that James didn't like him, but then his kiss was returned in full force, it almost felt as though James was trying to eat him alive.

After that night, their little escapades continued only with a lot more kissing. Sometimes, that was all they did and would never even make it into the sky. But despite this, there was a lot of unanswered tension and uncertainty between the two. It hung like a shadow over them. James was the first to bring this up a couple of months after it started, but Barty didn't really give a solid answer. It was more shrugs and shallow agreements but this really fucked with James, and he left not long after he arrived.

James wouldn't go back until Barty gave him an answer, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't check on the map to see if Barty was on the pitch and that he was safe. Fortunately, James only had to wait four days for an answer. It came in the form of Barty storming over to James after a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match (Gryffindor won) and snogging James as violently as he could manage, in front of the entire school.

Sure, there were a few comments thrown here and there about it that weren't particularly positive, but Barty didn't seem to care, so neither did James. It certainly helped that their best mates are both from the Black family.

[cuecrynsleep]

Terms of Endearment

AO3 Link

Amanda has always had (a habit at this point) of calling Angela certain pet names. Whether it was the occasional honey, or more commonly babe, she just said it and never minded it. Yet as the habit grew to a layer of comfort and enjoyment, other feelings start to slip through.

Or 5 times Amanda (unintentionally) called Angela a pet name and 1 time she tried to stop

Tags: Fluff, Pet Names, Flirting, 5+1 things, cross-posted on AO3

Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a representation of those in Smosh, rather a fan made perspective on the characters they portray online. Remain respectful.

Word count: 4,168

Amanda can't stop. What started as occasional occurrences during videos slowly turned into constant instances in their day to day life. It's gotten to a point where she simply just can't stop. There's just something about calling Angela all these pet names, and have it come out of her mouth naturally. As if the sound of it, towards her especially, was second nature.

It's not as if Angela minds it, if she did she would've said something. Amanda trusts in Angela and that she'd communicate with her if she was ever uncomfortable with any of her actions. It was one of their first conversations they had when they were both starting to become closer. A prompted phone call where they were going over sketch ideas, where it slowly turned into a talk about boundaries. One of which turned into their first promise. A promise to talk if one ever felt uncomfortable with the other's actions.

Then, as if the dam broke, letting the water flow through, physical contact became a part of their normal. Whether it be a hand on a shoulder, or Angela completely laying on Amanda, cuddling into her. It was nice; it was a part of their dynamic and Amanda liked how it was.

A part of their dynamic was pet names, even if it was more so on Amanda's part. It started off as "sweetie," whenever Angela did something warranting some layer of concern. It morphed into "honey," one that people would call each other on some occasions, so it wasn't as if that were out of the ordinary. Rather, it turned into something that was seemingly just for them, when more pet names were introduced and it happened way more often than it should.

Amanda wasn't even sure how she ended up calling Angela so many pet names. It was as if she was opening a book of pet names and was just using one or another at any given opportunity. It's not like Angela reacted anymore, she did at first, her eyes slowly widening, with tight lips sucked in between her teeth turning in a slight smile. Rather, she didn't react, at all, she'd acknowledge Amanda, maybe a smile and then she'd move on. It simply turned into that because they were both so used to the pet names.

1. Babe

Amanda sat on the couch in one of the empty green rooms, scrolling through a random article on 'people.com.' Her eyes continued to scan the words, only stopping as a familiar figure sat next to her. Angela's knee touched hers as she sat next to her, even if she didn't have to.

"Hey Ange," Amanda said, turning off her phone to acknowledge the shorter girl. A brow furrowed as she looked at her. She wasn't even distracted by her phone, it was open, but the Instagram photo it was on stayed. Her screen shifted into a darker tint as it remained inactive.

"You there, babe?" Amanda asked, the pet name slipping out naturally. "Babe, come on." She nudged her with her knee.

Amanda frowned, putting a hand on Angela's shoulder, leaning her head down to look into her eyes. "Ange, what's wrong?" She squeezed her shoulder, smiling as Angela seemed to react.

"What?" She asked, blinking slowly as she leaned her back further into the couch. "Hi Amanda."

"Hello to you too," she rolled her eyes lovingly with a soft chuckle. She went back to her spot, but still scooted closer to Angela, if that was even possible. "What's wrong, Ange? I tried getting your attention, and you seemed a bit lost there."

"Oh," she paused. "Sorry, I didn't get enough sleep last night." Then, as if on cue, she yawned. She blinked away the tiredness and continued. "No particular reason, I'm just tired.”

"I can make you a coffee," Amanda offered, she moved closer off the couch, her knees touching the table.

Angela smiled, a hand reaching out towards her to grab Amanda's wrist. She looked adorable, her head tilted slightly as she spoke. "Chanse already made me one earlier. Thanks though Amanda."

Amanda glanced down at Angela's wrist, letting the force drag her back to her spot as if she had to. "Then sleep."

"What?" Angela looked at her, almost baffled. "We have a shoot soon."

"In thirty minutes."

"But-"

"Nuh-uh, you're way too tired for this right now, babe." Amanda wrapped an arm around Angela, her hand on the side of her head. "Sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time." She pushed her head down, telling her to use her shoulder. She couldn't control the smile she had as Angela got comfortable, scooting closer into her warmth.

2. Baby

A few of the cast and crew gathered at a local nearby bar after a particularly successful week. Chanse was the designated driver this time around, purely because of a date he had the morning after. Amanda in particular, though she'd usually drink, stayed sober the entire night.

"I can take her home," Amanda offers to Chanse as both their gazes land on a particularly drunk co-worker.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I mean I was the one who took her here so I wouldn't really mind taking her home."

"Nah, it's fine," Amanda shrugged. "You already have enough people to take home anyway. Even if some of them are just going to take an Uber.”

"Thanks," He smiled as his gaze faltered to Angela who practically tripped onto an equally as drunk Olivia. He moved quickly towards her, a hand wrapping around her waist as he held her up. "You need help getting her to your car?" He said, still asking the question despite knowing full well the answer. Amanda could very much handle Angela's weight if she had no problem carrying Shayne.

"I should be good." She took Angela from Chanse, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Angela could only stumble forward, making Amanda catch her as she practically laid her entire body on her.

"You had a little too much to drink, Ange," Amanda chuckled lightly. She maneuvered herself around a few booths and tables, careful to not let her fall over.

Angela in response leaned her forehead against Amanda's chest, drool falling onto her shirt. A slur of incomprehensible words and murmurs heard.

As they finally exited the bar with Chanse holding open the door, Amanda found herself practically holding all of Angela's weight.

"Come on, baby," Amanda uttered. "Let's get you in the car." She trudged forward, adjusting her hold on her as she slipped a hand into her pocket for the keys.

Angela's feet stopped, properly standing on the ground, making Amanda stumble to make sure she didn't fall. "Okayyy, 'm drivin," Angela said with full confidence, smiling up at Amanda.

"Babe, you're drunk," Amanda laughed. "There's no world you're the one driving."

"Heyy, I'm not drunk," Angela slurred in slow words. She propped her head up, looking up at Amanda.

"Yes you are," she said, picking Angela off the ground as she ended up carrying her like a princess. She ignored the passing thought on how she felt nice in her arms.

She continued on, dropping Angela onto her feet carefully, as she opened the door. As soon as it was, she drunkenly fell onto the seat naturally, allowing Amanda to get her seated properly and buckled up.

The drive was as uneventful as it could be with a drunk friend, who was starting to get tired. Amanda's eyes shifted towards Angela, seeing her small form hunched over the side of the car. She continued driving as she did, lowering the music's volume even more to make sure she didn't bother her rest. A speed bump she had failed to notice shook the car, making Angela start to mumble. She shifted in her seat, her forehead accidentally hitting the window.

"Ange?" Amanda called out in concern. "Baby?" She kept one hand onto the wheel, keeping her eyes on the road, as she reached out towards Angela. She found her hand, squeezing it lightly, expecting some sort of response. "Baby, are you okay?"

Another murmur slipped out, almost sounding like a whine. "Am I home?" She asked in a tired voice.

"Not yet, I'm sorry about that, Angela," she apologised. "You're almost home I promise."

Angela lifted her head in an attempted nod as she closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep. Amanda could only let go of her hand as she approached a turn, continuing to drive, this time a lot more wary of anything on the road.

3. Love

Amanda was having a stressful day. She was ready to arrive to work and bury it, keeping the heavy emotions that weighed on her separate from her work. That's what she always did anyway, not because she didn't trust those she worked with, she very much did, rather it was a habit she built up. Work was separate from her personal life and she was happy keeping it as that.

Yet, as she saw Angela enter the Smosh office and smile as soon as she saw Amanda's face she could already feel her resolve start to weaken. It was always like this, sometimes when she saw Angela it was incredibly easy for her to break her walls down. There was just something about Angela that made her want to open up, and maybe it was because she knew Angela could help calm her down. She knew Angela would listen to every word she said, say what Amanda needed in that very moment, and just like that they could move on with their day like normal. That’s how Amanda preferred it, especially when at work. If she needed to talk about it more she could always just talk to Angela afterwards.

“You okay?” Angela frowned, looking up at Amanda.

Amanda sucked in her lips as she let out a shaky breath. “You’re way too good at this,” she commented, her voice coming out in a hushed whisper.

“Do you want to go somewhere more private before we start our day?” Angela offered.

“No, no,” she nodded her head as she spoke. “I just need a small moment.”

“What’s up?”

“A lot of things have just been adding up,” she sighed. “The nail in the coffin is the fact that I just hate everything I come up with now. All my sketch ideas just seem like shit.” She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a tired groan.

“I'll check over any ideas you may have,” Angela immediately suggested. “You might just need another pair of eyes on it.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, though it didn't entirely meet her eyes. Suddenly, Angela pulled her closer into a hug, Amanda's arms wrapping around her naturally. It felt nice. It felt like she actually needed this.

“You know that I love you, right?”

“Of course I do,” Amanda said, her voice coming out in an unintentional whisper. “I love you too.”

“Just know that I'll always be there for you,” Angela murmured. “I know you hate talking about more serious stuff here, but you can call me up afterwards.” She pulled away from the hug, stepping back as she awkwardly chuckled. “Or, if you're up for it, you can sleep over at my place?”

Amanda's smile grew to meet her eyes, it was almost silly how one person's words could make her feel better in that moment. Angela has always just had that effect. How someone who she hasn't even known for that long could force her way into her heart this fast was beyond her. Though, she didn't exactly mind it. Things were always different with Angela.

“How about you sleep over at my place this time?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Angela grinned. She stepped away, her arm outstretched towards Amanda. “You ready for work?”

“Not yet,” she mumbled.

She grabbed onto Angela's wrist, pulling her closer towards her. "Thank you, love," Amanda whispered as she pulled Angela into another hug. The height difference caused her lips to hit the top of Angela's forehead. She ignored the light flutter that erupted in her stomach.

4. Angel

They were playing another board game for Smosh Games. The small group of five surrounded the table, with Angela, as usual sitting next to Amanda. Things were hitting off with how it usually would. It took a bit, but as the game progressed it was natural for their comedic sides to slip through.

Angela, in particular, fascinated Amanda today. She was just so electric, as if she was an energetic force that shined so bright. One that was somehow also a magnet simply for how much Amanda felt drawn to her. That's what made game videos with her so different, so natural, because it was just a part of who they were as people.

It was easy for her to just appreciate more and more sides of Angela, especially when she was working. Where, in that moment, something she is deeply passionate about and good at shines through in every second. She was truly fascinating. So maybe it was those passing thoughts that made her only bounce off Angela even more in that moment.

"Angel-, Angela," Amanda's eyes slightly widened. "You're literally so many points behind." She had made the pet name seem more like a misheard stumble of words than intentional, as she spoke. It's not like she thought Angela would mind it, if anything it would add onto the list of many other things Amanda calls Angela. Who knows maybe Angela would get a kick out of it because it was one letter off her name.

Rather, she stumbled because that was a new one. It's not like she intentionally did it either, her name just naturally followed as if that's what she always meant to say. Ignoring her stumble, she compartmentalized and moved on. She riffed off a joke Trevor made, smiling as Angela laughed and let herself sink deeper into the video.

She couldn't let conflicting emotions show whilst she was working, especially when the thing that started it wasn't something that should bother her in the first place. It was just a pet name. It was a part of their normal. That was it. Yet, that didn't stop the gnawing thought, on what Angela would think, before she sunk herself back into the real world. She really wanted to see her reaction.

Before, in the starting days of this aspect of their dynamic she always had the most obvious of reactions. She always looked so cute. It made it better that Angela was one of those people who could react so easily over the simplest of things. Everytime Amanda couldn't help but feel special whenever she saw one of those particular little reactions directed towards her.

Yet, with every passing occurrence and the feelings that'd seem to threaten to rise, Amanda could only wonder. She was starting to enjoy calling Angela all these pet names more than she should, more than she ever bargained for. She was never supposed to end up caring this much. It was fine for her to love Angela and their fast-growing friendship over the past couple months. It was fine for her to get close with all of her coworkers and be her usual touchy self. That was all fine.

It was fine with how it was in the beginning, because it was meaningless. It was something she'd do to others in her life if she were that close with them. Something made her hesitate though, because she was enjoying these pet names more than she should. A part of her, and though she'd never admit it, was scared of eventually pushing Angela away, even if she was confident in the bond they shared. Perhaps there should be more lines drawn when it comes to work relationships.

5. Beautiful

Angela was taking Amanda to the party, the former being adamant on doing so after Amanda took her home after she got drunk. She could remember Angela's bumbling apology over how she acted, clearly embarrassed over her actions, even if there wasn’t much to be embarrassed over. In general, it’s been about two weeks since then but Angela still insisted on taking her to Tommy’s birthday celebration.

She was just about to finish her makeup, but paused as she heard the doorbell. “Sorry, I’m not ready yet,” Amanda said, as she opened the door. She could feel herself visibly catch her breath as she took in Angela’s appearance. In one word, she was absolutely stunning. The dress, though simple in design, complemented her appearance. The transparent black stockings affected Amanda more than she’d ever admit. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Angela was both incredibly cute and hot at the same time.

“It’s fine,” Angela said, bringing Amanda out of her thoughts. “We’re still pretty early anyway.” She did a look over Amanda’s look. “You look beautiful.”

“I haven’t even finished my make up yet.”

“My point still stands.”

Amanda affectionately rolled her eyes. “Well, you literally look absolutely stunning.”

“I try,” she shrugged. “You finish getting ready, I’ll just wait over here.”

Amanda went back into the bathroom, taking her time to finish getting ready. Despite saying she’d wait by the entrance Angela ended up in the bathroom, with the two making idle conversation as Amanda applied her makeup. It was hard not to admire her whilst she was talking. There was just something different about her that drew her in to admire her so much more. A part of her couldn’t help but wish for this moment to last for even longer.

In general, the situation felt different, it felt more like Angela picking up Amanda for a date than the former driving her to a party. Maybe it was the fact the feelings Amanda buried throughout work were starting to show themselves. Maybe it was pure wishful thinking. Maybe it was the fact that Angela looked absolutely beautiful as she stood at Amanda’s front door. Her thoughts in particular towards the shorter girl were becoming a lot more intense in the past few days.

She finished up her makeup, putting the final touches on her lip gloss just as Angela finished animatedly telling her about a character idea she had. She pushed the thoughts from earlier aside, exiting the bathroom to gather her stuff as Angela followed in her steps.

She put on her heels, Angela even helping attach the ends, as she double checked her belongings. "Come on, beautiful, we have a party to go to." Amanda smiled down at Angela, exiting the door that Angela held open for her.

Okay, that pet name made Amanda internally cringe. She couldn’t help but compare it to those sleazy guys who’d cat call women on the street. She was just about to joke about that, but the words died in her throat as she saw Angela’s reaction. She had a tight-lipped smile on her face, a visible flush coating her cheeks as she shakily breathed out.

Oh. This was bad. This only made Amanda want to tease her even more. To see every reaction to multiple various pet names. To find out what was going on in her head everytime Amanda flirted with her. Those thoughts alone extended to other ideas and hopes that Amanda didn’t exactly want to fully process right now. It was okay to be playful with Angela. It was a part of their dynamic. But maybe just maybe like most things there was a limit to it. She definitely needed to start showing some restraint on all these pet names.

6. Angela

"Angela, we have an hour before the meeting, it's fine." Amanda said, as Angela took another bite of her sandwich. She was chewing faster than usual, determined to finish her food so her and Amanda could go over character ideas. Yet, the thought of that seemed to fade as Amanda said her name.

She had been calling her either Angela or Ange for the past five days. Not a single pet name had come out of her mouth once and it felt weird. It's not like Amanda always used them, at the end of the day she'd call her Angela more than she'd say some pet name, but the sudden lack of them seemed weird. Especially, during filming where she'd particularly end up calling her more pet names.

On the first day, she didn't even notice it, yet by the second in the late afternoon it was a passing thought. By the third it was more of curiosity, but by the fourth she was actively waiting for Amanda to call her a pet name. It seemed almost stupid how things progressed. There have been days where Amanda wouldn't utter a pet name, but it seemed purposeful this time around because Angela knew Amanda. She knew how she was and sometimes it just felt like she was holding herself back.

"I know I pointed it out but you don't have to eat that slow," Amanda laughed. She lightly pushed the cold bottled water against her hand.

Oh. Angela hadn't taken another bite after swallowing for over a minute. She took another bite of her sandwich giving Amanda a pointed look.

"Oh, come on, what is it?"

"What do you mean?”

"You know what I mean," Angela replied, as if defending herself. She feigned innocence, as the thought of what she was actually about to complain about fully occurred to her.

Angela hated the fact she was starting to get sick of her own name on Amanda's mouth. She hated it even more knowing that feeling would immediately disappear if Amanda just called her babe, honey, or any other pet name she has for her. It was silly. This was entirely Amanda's fault and even though she wasn't mad at the girl whatsoever, it still felt like her fault for getting her so used to the many pet names.

"I don't, sorry Ange," Amanda sighed. "What is it?"

"Try again." Angela tried, at this point she was stalling. She wasn't exactly comfortable with lying to get out of this situation, especially when Amanda looks so concerned.

The truth was hard, it was something that didn't always come easily. Especially when the truth was that Angela was acting like a sad puppy who got no treats over something as silly as no pet names for five days. If Amanda would let her live this down, Angela herself wouldn't.

"What?"

"Repeat your question," she reiterated, hoping that Amanda would somehow catch her hint. Nevermind the fact her hint was extremely minimal.

Amanda sighed. "I don't know what you mean, Angela. What is it?" The repeated question, despite sounding more gentle, also sounded more forced if not robotic. She waved her hand in the air as if further proving her point.

Angela.

Not even Ange at this point. Angela was starting to get tired, she just wanted everything to go back to normal. Normal being Amanda calling her multiple pet names willy nilly whenever she saw fit. This was such a ridiculous issue in the grand scheme of things. Especially, when they were at work and had a particularly busy schedule this past week.

Angela groaned, pushing aside her plate slightly to place her elbow on the table. She was truly at her wits end, just wanting to get this over with. Plus helping her ever so slightly in this situation was that if there was anyone she could talk to it was Amanda.

"Just call me a pet name already!" Angela relented, looking up to meet Amanda's gaze. "You've been doing it just fine for however many months, don't stop now."

Amanda paused, not speaking a word as she just sat there. She blinked, unmoving, the sounds of their chattering coworkers at another table disappearing, even if for a moment. Then, as if a switch was flipped she leaned forward, moving to the edge of the chair, her feet keeping her grounded as she seemingly loomed over Angela.

Angela could only gulp, bracing the table as if it could offer her some support. She wanted nothing more than to burst up in that moment and turn the tables on Amanda, but felt almost too stunned to do so. Her voice was practically a whisper, a share of words meant only for her and her alone. Her voice dropped in tone, making a shiver rush up Angela's spine.

"Aw, did you miss it, babygirl?"

And as Angela expected she already regretted bringing it up. Wholeheartedly, with every fiber of her being, she felt so embarrassed. More so when her heart fluttered and she felt nothing but relief after hearing her call her a pet name.

Angela only scooted closer, grasping onto Amanda's wrist, making their eyes meet after Angela's gaze faltered.

"Yes," Angela answered. "I did miss it, and it's your fault in the first place." She bit her lip out of habit alone. "So take responsibility, will you?”

[chaostroberry1]

Can i ask for Yandere Beelzebub, hades, and Poseidonas. It was soulmate and reverse harem AU. What if the three of them had same soulmate and their soulmate is demigod and sister of Brunhilde and going fo fight in Ragnarok as opposite side? The three seen her getting beaten and hurt. What story and what would they do?

Thank you, sorry for the grammar and asking this. If you are uncomfortable with the theme is okay. Have nice days ahead of you ❤❤

YES!! ID BE HAPPY TO! 😭 Thank you for the idea!

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Token of love | YANDERE ROR × soulmate READER

Hades + Beelzebub + Poseidon × fem!reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The gods have never felt pity towards the human race. Most of them despising the mere thought, it disgusted them. All the sins humans have committed against them and the very earth, truly disgusting.

That was until you came to valhalla. Born as the offspring of a human, and a god. That god being, Susanoo. At first, they just thought of you as a lower being, it didn't matter if you had the blood of Susanoo, you also had a mortal's blood within you. It meant you were still weak in their eyes.

Susanoo had fallen for a beautiful woman, who bore him a child, that child being you. So you were raised in the human world. But things didn't go so well for you, ever since they found out you had abilities that slowly started showing, as well as how you stopped aging. That resulted in many townsfolk chasing you down until you stumbled across a young Valkyrie named Brunhilde, who took you in as her sister.

You were brought to valhalla, being introduced to a few of the gods there. Growing up, you had Odin as your father figure, incredibly protective of you since he thought of you as his own daughter, that's why he didn't let you out of the Norse pantheon, which explains why you haven't met the other gods from other pantheons.

But you had friends to keep you company there, a few being Loki and Thor. Loki who loved to chitchat with you and probably make a few sly comments about Thor's little crush on you which would immediately be interrupted by Thor's glare. Luckily for him though, you were a bit oblivious to it.

When you started growing to be strong and pretty, you set out on your journey to know more about everything, still making sure to visit the Norse gods multiple times.

Beelzebub was the first to have met you, when you introduced yourself to him as a demigod. Then Poseidon, who you left with a bitter taste in his mouth from having to face a being that was lower than him. The last was hades, who instead of Poseidon, greeted you formally instead. More mature minded, but that doesn't mean he'll treat you any differently from the rest.

Until you started showing up more and more, getting your name engraved into their heads, which grew overwhelmingly annoying.

Everytime you passed by them, their hearts would beat fast, and they feel a strong connection towards you...it was sick. How dare you make anyone feel that way?

Hades, had heard about it from his dear brother zues, who wouldn't stop talking about it, making Poseidon listen in as well to all his annoying bickering about "soulmates". Beelzebub on the other hand, had read about it after some thorough research in a library, unable to believe that such feelings could even exist, especially inside him. He knew that if his love were to grow too strong, then he'll end up going on a killing spree.

But...it was different...this wasn't just simple love that he felt..it was obssession. An obssesssive type of love. Which is why he hasn't killed anyone yet, making everything more surprising for him. He was never able to love someone so freely without having to face consequences, which is why the feeling that lingered in him..made him long for you. Since you were the only hope he had for love.

Hades, was full of joy that he could find a queen to love and care for. Someone who he could take with him to the lonely place he had to call "home". There was finally something new for him to look forward to, something that could always brighten up his world.

Poseidon... Poseidon was unhappy about the fact that he had to bear feelings for someone... especially the offspring of a human...you were a deity of lesser status, if he ever had to marry anyone, it would be a woman of higher status, but that would mean the marriage was loveless. This however, was a new experience, being able to love someone so much, it was pathetic. Anyone who bore feelings like that were pathetic...but oh how desperate his body ached to see you.

When the Ragnarok came into place, Brunhilde had convinced you to fight as a representative for the human race. Which you kindly accepted, she was your sister after all. How could you ever turn her down when she needed you most?

You walked into the arena, hoping to win for the sake of humanity. As cruel as humans were, there are still a few exceptions who deserved to live. And to your surprise, you saw the faces of Poseidon and hades, as well as Beelzebub. Their eyes watching you like a hawk, they hated how you had to be a representative. It meant that if you ever lost, you'll be gone..forever. that mere thought was enough to make them grit their teeth in anger. What kind of scum would even think of putting their filthy hands on you?

Sadly, you were paired up with a god who was too strong for you to defeat. Your body already covered in bruises and wounds. Your legs grew weak as you pathetically dropped to your knees, throwing up blood. Your weak state...those sad eyes that lost more and more hope every second that passed...

They were enraged.

Luckily for you, you were able to throw one last move in a desperate attempt to kill the god, and it brought you to victory.

Your body immediately slumping down, trembling in pain. Before your eyes shut, unable to remember anything aside from hands carrying you to get treated.

A few hours had passed and you saw three men surrounding you, all of them exchanging glares at each other while you stared weakly.

"can I...help you..? Are you here to...kill me... because I...fought for the humans...?"

Hades was the first to speak, caressing your hair, a sudden spark igniting within his body when he felt you for the first time. "No, not exactly."

Poseidon left the room, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he tried to get some air. Suppressing his urge to kill whoever was in charge of putting you in such a dangerous situation, forced to be talked out of it by zues. Ending in him letting out a "tch" before leaving his brother to soothe his nerves. Oh how good it would feel to kill that skank, but his pride wouldn't let him. He was a god, if he killed a Valkyrie, that would mean he was pathetic and afraid of losing to the challenge.

It's most probably that the gods would force you into a safer place. Believing that it was best for you to stay away from the dangers outside, especially Odin, who caught on to the gods and their 'feelings' towards you.

Odin was incredibly enraged by not only the fact that you nearly lost your life, but, adding salt to the wound, also had a bunch of males trying for your love! That's why he got Loki and Thor to guard you, knowing that it was best. Not uttering a word to the others about your sudden disappearance.

The other gods were pissed when they couldn't find you anywhere. The love that swelled in their chest made them desperate to find you, but they had no idea where you were put after your match.

But don't worry, once they get rid of all the possible threats to you, they'll find you. They'll find you, and take you back to where you belonged. With them.

But for now, you can play your little hide and seek. But beware that it won't last very long once they've got their hands on you.

After all, it was your fault they felt that way, isn't it?

So don't go wondering why you woke up to knocking on your door, and don't be surprised if it wasn't Thor, or Loki, nor Odin...

You have to pay the consequences.

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@kuroi19-blog Hello!!! I'm finally finished with the story. Thank you for requesting! I hope this is good enough for your liking 🥹

[birdmitosis]

oh, you doin' this too? (referring to the ask game) Tell me your Contra thoughts :3

Ohoho, a total surprise that you would ask about the blorbo... >:3

First impression

OHHH I LOVE HIM IMMEDIATELY. FUNNY GUY MESSING WITH THE NARRATOR 💕 (Paranoid is the voice I love most, but I think Contrarian was the one I most quickly loved...)

Impression now

I still absolutely love them, honestly even more now! Unlike with Paranoid, where I was a little worried about her shtick getting old, I unexpectedly did start finding Contrarian's shtick a little old on occasion (okay, mostly in the Wild chapter going the Networked route, where I felt like Connie was messing with the tone of things a bit too much, and I was a bit more eh on them in Fury than some people seem to be though I've come around on that!). But with the full context of the Stranger versions of the endings and even seeing the Wounded Wild version of things with them... Oof, I adore them and they just completely fascinate me, that they have so much character development in this little visual novel where they're basically a side character... And I just adore jesters in all fiction and so I 1000% agree with all the Jester Contrarian people out there! Love them so much!!!!

Favorite moment

I mean, the Stranger version of the ending, honestly. Though to be more specific, I love the way that throwing the blade out the window comes back around in the Stranger ending -- especially if you choose to do it, giving Contrarian their unexpected third beat and them finding it funny that you did it even though this time they discouraged it.

Honorable mention to the little moment they have when you meet the Wounded Wild properly, though. While they discourage you from slaying her by saying it's going against what the Narrator wants, their voice just sounds so shaken that it's obvious that's a justification. Connie really doesn't like seeing the state the Wild is in and doesn't like thinking about hurting her further like this. It goes to show that he can get that Stranger ending development even if you don't go for the Stranger ending, and I love that!

(Also honorable mention to the way they deliver two of their lines in No Way Out: "Too late, because we already did it, didn't we?" and "You're not the only one who can figure out how to do things" are just such fuckin funny lines mostly on the strength of their delivery!)

Idea for a story

I NEED TO CONTINUE [Wear whatever feathers you choose.] I REALLY DO...

But okay, other ideas!

I love the possibility that I believe you brought up at one point, of Contrarian and Cold hanging out and egging each other on to do reckless shit but Cold straight-up getting hurt from it and Contrarian panicking because they hadn't wanted that and hadn't quite expected Cold to go that far.

I could also really love an exploration of how to get, or what it might be like to get, Contrarian in either version of Wraith or in Thorn... Or even a theoretical Stranger Chapter III (likely with Cheated)!

Unpopular opinion

I'm not really sure I have any, honestly! I think a lot of people have similar but different takes on Contrarian and nothing I could say is that unpopular... I guess maybe that pre-development, they were more of an asshole in-game than some people seem to think, but also less of one than others seem to think? (They did reassure Hero multiple times in the Stranger chapter, after all!)

Favorite relationship

Oh, absolutely, romance-wise ContraHero is my secondary OTP for this game! Platonically, though (...and okay in some cases romantically), I am really into Contrarian's dynamic and (potential) relationships with Broken, Cheated, Cold, Opportunist, Fury, Stranger, Thorn, Wounded Wild, and the Narrator.

Favorite headcanon

Contrarian being nonbinary is my absolute favorite thing! Some runners-up though: Human!Contrarian (or if Contrarian had to give a human name) would be Connie, Contrarian would absolutely get along great with Cold, and Contrarian would learn how to beatbox and get super good at it.

[iaus]

okay. i need to like. keep myself distracted until noon so. woe porter write up be upon ye. (feat jace because. well i mean look at me.)

So last time I did a little write up it was just a quick phone typed teehee here's some Jace headcanons but Porter has been fucking bugging me. I have a lot of thought put into this dude, but haven't really... written him much yet. So:

-> He is the Solace equivalent of an army brat. Raised in a military (paladin) family and moved around a lot. This is part of the reason he's really confident in himself because he was actually? Pretty popular? Wherever he went. I have diagnosed him with unfortunately hot his whole life so now he is the way he is.

-> Oldest of *hand wave* siblings (not committing to his family size just yet because I don't want to retcon my own hcs) and this sort of fuels into his rage. He was held to an impossibly high standard (that he was proud to meet! He did hit those goals!) and he was raised very much in a tough love environment, and then his parents slowly loosened up as they had more kids so Porter was really pissed off and angry because he thought his parents were doing a disservice to his little siblings. How are they going to be the best they could be if they're not being pushed? (Porter himself does not engage with this thought on a deeper level.)

-> I think he's somewhat estranged with his family at this point. It's not really a conscious cut off, but more of just we email updates every once in a while and his parents and a few siblings send moonar yulenear (i'm crying i hate typing this out every time) cards. He's that distant uncle who lives with his best friend to some of his siblings' kids. His youngest sibling actually just hates his guts and refuses to talk to him.

-> Yes. He is as confident as he projects, but Jace specifically does something to him. I'll get into that in a bit.

-> He's had a handful of what he counts as serious relationships, but the partners he had always ended up being like. Are we going to get married. Are we ever doing more than this? And Porter was always like. No? Isn't this as good as it gets?

-> I like the idea of him being (a bit) younger than Jace, but I haven't actually got into the nitty gritty of making timelines yet so just know they're nebulously the same age (midlife crisis age).

-> I think I said in my first fic that Porter was Jace's senior by a few years, but I also like the idea of Jace being at Aguefort like 5-ish years when Porter starts teaching. I'm not really committing to either at this point. But, either way I picture him at least in his early 50s by junior year.

-> The teacher Porter respected most at Aguefort was his barbarian teacher who had a very similar teaching approach. It was all about results. If you had to have a bit of tough love to get to your goals? Yeah. You are getting that.

Okay. There's some. Basics for him.

Now. Here's the real reason I wanted to write this teehee.

Porter's deep-seated unhealthy Jace obsession <3

I think Porter is used to actually being pretty popular.

He's not one to get ignored if he shows attention to someone. It's happened once or twice, but he decided that person just wasn't that interesting at all actually.

Jace kind of writes him off when they first meet.

Jace is pleasant (something something obnoxiously friendly) but not pleasant enough for Porter not to pick up a vibe from him. So, while Jace is quietly being like. Unfortunately, I am a stereotype and find the barbarian hot. Porter is like what is this dude's fucking deal.

So, he ends up pursuing Jace. He plays up his charm that he usually doesn't bother with and ends up realizing wow. WOW. He's fucked up I need to know more. And I think a lot of what Porter does that's sweet is him being like. Well. I've been in relationships before and I can recognize a giant ego like my own so I'll go through the motions to keep him coming back so I can keep figuring him out.

(Idiot.)

But. This ends up with Porter figuring out that Jace is like. Scary good with magic and Jace just rolls his eyes like of course. Magic is innate but also I'm just good. And that is catnip for Porter. Here is this arrogant caster who is so sure of himself and ignores me if he doesn't want something from me I need to make him mine. (He's fallen for the trap. He really has. He doesn't see that Jace's ego is huge, but also really fragile.)

Which leads to Jace leaving Porter out of the blue (in his perception). And he is so fucking pissed about it, so he keeps pursuing Jace. (Again. Again. He falls for it. This is what Jace wants.) And they get locked in this horrible, self-fulfilling cycle.

Porter's not used to being left the way Jace leaves him and Jace isn't used to getting chased the way Porter chases him and it's...

So unhealthy.

But god is it everything they both want.

[totallyblooktacular]

lost your head

[theabstruseone]

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

Edit to add further developments:

Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.

Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.

The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.

The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.

The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.

TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).

This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".

This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")

X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.

Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.

The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.

One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.

Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.

[uravichii]

"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

[cherry-leclerc]

true temptation ☆ cl16

genre: sainz!reader, humor, nnn (mommy, i can explain), smut, fluff, whipped!charles, established relationship

word count: 2k

Your boyfriend makes a decision to participate in NNN, but immediately regrets it when he realizes just how difficult it is to stay away from you. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, fingering

req!... probably the longest drabble i’ve done so far, but i hope you all enjoy! 

“You’re never going to last.”

The Monegasque’ eyes challenge you as you stand there unimpressed, hands on your hips. It had all started with him barging in on you and calling an ‘emergency couple’s meeting’.

Pacing the room, he goes back and forth, mumbling slowly, as if creating a plan up in his head. As far as you’re concerned, he was never going to actually do it. The man was obsessed with you. 

“Have a little faith in me,” he groans, hands brushing his hair back in despair. 

His so called - ‘emergency’ -  was that he would be taking part in No Nut November. No kissing. No sex. 

Or anything remotely related to it.

Walking up to him, you pat his chest. His hands find their way down to your waist, doe eyes staring back up at him.

“I will… But I’m going to make your head spin.”

-

He started off strong. He even felt a bounce in his step when he entered Ferrari Hospitality; he swore he felt like he was walking on sunshine. 

“You’re actually doing it?” 

Joris, too, had no hope for his friend. He had seen the way the green eyed boy would cling onto you as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. The way he talked about you, even when you weren’t around. 

“Oui. Why? Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

His friend tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it for a minute. “Not sure. All I know is that your and Pierre’s bet on who can last longer is never going to end up good. You can’t even go a single second without kissing her!”

“He said he could last longer than me? I have to prove him wrong….” His mind slips over to the last part. “I can live without her kisses for a month. It’ll be fine.”

The Ferrari driver makes his way to his team, properly analyzing what faults his car had and how he can make the best out of it. Frustrated, Charles rubs his eyes. 

“I will do the best I can, but I can’t promise a podium. Not with a car like this.”

Taking notes, Xavi nods as he walks away. “Hi, Xavi!” The sound of your voice instantly makes him ease up as he searches for you. His jaw goes slack.

“What are you wearing?”

Smiling wide with eyes crinkled, you rush over to him. “It’s only a dress.”

But it wasn’t just a dress. He knows you did it on purpose, wearing the little black dress he had last fucked you in. It’s the way it fans your thighs as the wind gently teases anyone passing by. 

“You’re supposed to be on my team. Are we really going to let Kika and Pierre win?”

Rolling your eyes, you tippy toe, naturally about to kiss him, but stop yourself before you do. He frowns. 

“You are sooo right!” You comedically screech as you slap your hands against your cheeks. “I do want us to win! Forget the kiss, my mistake.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. 

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

-

He’s a week in and he’s finally starting to lose his grip.

“You’re sweating buckets, mate,” Daniel points out as he lets out a loud laugh, doing a muppet dive. Charles unbuttons his collared shirt. 

“It’s the heat, it’s the heat.”

The Aussie furrows his eyebrows and he raises a hand up to feel the air. Light breeze. Shivering, you strut over to your boyfriend. 

“Can we leave? It’s getting too cold.”

And he hates the way that dress clings onto your body, your figure being completely shown off. Nothing but dirty thoughts have entered his mind from the moment he first saw you. 

“Sure.”

Kicking off your heels, you throw yourself onto the bed, face first. Shooo tirefff, you mumble against the sheets. He purposefully takes a seat across from you, knowing he’d be tempted to cross the line if he didn’t. 

Tossing over, you reach out for him. And he’s about to turn you down, but he notices the way your nose is painted pink - your cheeks, too - and soft, tired eyes meeting his. His heart melts at the sight. So, he reminds himself that a hug with his girlfriend is nothing bad.

Climbing onto his lap, you dig your face into his chest, short dress riding up. He physically has to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. Instead, he traces his fingers up and down your spine. You shudder.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck, Charlie?”

Right there, is his breaking point. He’s ready to kiss you, finger you, eat you out, fuck you, anything. But you giggle teasingly as you pull back, a wicked smile drawn. 

“Whoops. Never mind.”

-

He’s known you wouldn’t make this easy on him. It’s almost as if you’ve made it your mission to screw with his head - and while he would normally love it - in this case, it was killing him.

Dance with me, you would beg him and you sway in front of him. It was a rare moment of it just being you two, so naturally, you took advantage of it. You showered, did your skincare, watched a movie, but the moment you heard Sparks by Coldplay echoing from his phone, you immediately jumped up like a bunny.

Then, his heart would melt, and melt, and melt - and melt some more. It would only be a reminder of what a perfect match you both were. He would memorize your face once again; no makeup, eyebags due to long travels with him, a small cut on the bridge of your nose from earlier when Lando had accidentally hit you with his frisbee, pink lips he so desperately missed. 

He would oblige, the way you knew he would. He found home within you as you would both sway, your feet on top of his as he would lead you both, you having to do nothing but close your eyes and feel his heartbeat. And it was so sweet to know that it was only yours.

I love you, he would remind you as if he didn’t already tell you a million times before. As if it were a way to make up for all this. And you would say-

“I know.”

-

“How are you keeping up?” 

The Frenchman smiles proudly as he takes a sip of water. “I’m actually doing fine. You?”

Charles gulps, green eyes following to where you stand next to Kika.

“Good.”

-

“It’s actually not that hard.” 

Kika and you had been touching up on your boyfriend's challenge. She would say it as if it were the easiest thing. You slump against your chair.

“That’s not fair… Mine has the most beautiful face ever!”

“Hey!”

You squeal as she aims a pillow at you. I’m sorry! The Portuguese laughs too, sticking her tongue out. You sigh. “I do miss him, though.”

“Yeah…”

“Have we seriously just been talking about how horny we are?”

“Don’t say it like that!” She bites her lip. “We have.”

“Why did they ever think this was going to be a good idea?”

Propping her arm against the table, she beams. “It’s not, but I heard from Pierre about how much Charles is struggling.” You groan.

“Yeah, well that’s nothing but his own fault.”

-

It’s now been 2 weeks and he’s already given up. His pleads were convincing. 

C’mon, baby. Let me fuck you.

It’s been too long. I miss the way you taste.

But you stood your ground. 

“No, no, no.” You shook your head, running away. Seeing Carlos, you hide behind him. “You brought this onto yourself! Now you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Confused, Carlos questions you both on what you’re talking about. It’s just that your sister won’t let me-

“Stop! That’s my brother!”

The Monegasque shrugs as Carlos turns to you. What is he talking about? Your face burns up as you brush him off. “Nada, nada - he’s just being a jerk.” And so, he believes it and walks away, too tired to deal with any of it.

 You let out a squeal when Charles plunges towards you. He picks you up, carrying you to his motorhome.

“Let go!”

Dropping you onto his small bed, he stares down at you like a lion salivating over their prey. You suppress a whimper, clamming your legs shut. He raises a brow.

“You’re telling me you don’t want the same thing I do? I promise I’ll do it just the way you like it.”

Closing your eyes, you can picture it. You can feel him already, pressed up against you. You do want it, you do. Opening your eyes, you shake your head. 

“Just two more weeks to go.”

-

“We lost.” Taken aback, you snort. What do you mean? Your friend blushes before dragging you to the corner. “I mean that last night Pierre and I went out for dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“Okay, okay, I caught on!”

Giggling, she shimmies her shoulders towards you. “What are you going to do?” You pout as you stare back blankly. She sighs. “I’m talking about you and Charles! I mean you both already won - you could do whateverrrr you want.”

Stuttering, you cough before saying, “You made it loud and clear, thank you very much.”

-

Shivering, you climb into the passenger's seat of his Pista as you thank him for opening and closing your door. As soon as he climbs in, he turns on the heater. The Monaco streets were lonely, everyone already in their homes, sheltering from the light rain that had picked up.

“You want to pull over?”

You sound so sweet asking that he almost thinks he’s hallucinating or that any second now you’re going to surprise him with a, just kidding!

But he quickly could tell you weren’t and he doesn’t want to let the moment slip away. Not when he’s been waiting for so long. Screw it if he lost.

Pulling over on the side of an isolated street, he hauls you onto his lap. You thank the universe for skirts. Pushing your panties aside, his long fingers slide against your wet folds. You let out a wail.

“Fuck, you don’t know how I’ve missed hearing you.” He slides two fingers in. “Feeling you.”

Dazed, you find yourself grinding on his fingers. Every single time they would brush against your g-spot, you would kiss him harder. He slips them out, bringing them up to his lips. 

And he moans in a way you’ve never heard before. So fucking sweet. Blushing, you lean in to kiss him. You can still taste yourself.

“Charles, please - do something.”

Never during your entire relationship has he ever fucked you as hard as he did that day. His grip on your waist hurt, but it hurt so good. His cock would continuously brush against where you needed him the most, so much so, he left you seeing stars. Drooling all over him, you hold onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down rapidly.

“So tight – So warm.” He chokes when you ground your hips deeper. “So fucking good.”

Then, he finishes inside of you. His fingers slide down to your clit as he rubs it. You finish with a loud cry. Kissing you one last time, he slaps your ass. You scowl playfully.

“Admit it - you’ve missed it, too.”

-

“Just a few more weeks and you would have won!” Pierre clicks his tongue before kicking his legs up against the table in front of him. Charles rolls his eyes.

“I’m never doing that again.”

Kika smacks the Frechman’s thigh. “You both lost, remember? Only, you did before him.” The Monegasque quickly springs up.

“You’re saying we won?”

“You’re acting as if this were the fucking Olympics, Cha.” You drag him by the arm to sit back down as he starts celebrating his ‘accomplishment of the year’.

“What are we clapping about?”

Your brother strolls over to an open seat as he opens up a water bottle. Hurriedly, you screech, “Nothing! Only that the season is almost over-”

“He’s yapping about how he won No Nut November, except, he didn’t. 2 weeks and fucking does not count.”

“You did what?”

Jumping up, Charles trips over his feet as he tries backing away from the angry Spaniard. “I think I forgot my phone! I’ll be right back!”

Chasing after him, your brother yells out, “That’s my baby sister, cabrón!”

[erwinsvow]

is rafe every toxic or mean to shy!reader?

i think so.. maybe in the beginning when he's not as trusting yet and still like opening up to the idea that he has a girl who is completely devoted to him and not playing him or sneaking around... walk w me for this idea its a little stupid but its the best i could think of

you'd been trying your best to be a good girlfriend to rafe—you weren't used to him, the kind of boy he was and life he had. you were more sheltered, a little too trusting when someone was nice and too eager to please.

so he gets a little carried away the first time he gets a glimmer of suspicion. because really, you thought it was harmless, wanting to get to know more about your boyfriend. you thought his closest friends would have answers for you, since his sister never anything nice to say.

you didn't like that—it was beginning to bother you more and more. the rafe that was your boyfriend was nothing like the rafe that sarah always described, and you didn't like how you felt about that either. maybe there was a hidden part of rafe that you hadn't been exposed to yet.

not that you wanted to be exposed to it anyways. you much preferred rafe how he was with you—always gentle and nice, not even raising his voice since you didn't react so well to that. and you, being who you are, knew what you needed to do. keep being a perfect girlfriend for rafe so he would never have to yell at you or get mad.

maybe it's a little fucked up. you don't spend too much time thinking about it, maybe because you don't really care. until you're forced to care, that is.

asking topper and kelce for their numbers seemed innocent to you, seemed like nothing at all. you wanted to know what to get rafe—his birthday was coming up and two whole months of dating him. you figured this was the best way to get some answers without appearing too suspicious—rafe would notice immediately if you went and started having entire conversations with his two friends.

unfortunately you're too sweet for your own good—always have been, always will be. you had smiled shyly and politely thanked them for their numbers, but nervously held off on actually asking them for advice until just today. and the two of them, rafe's friends as they are, are still boys. stupid, immature ones—you knew that much from sarah at least.

rafe picks you up for your date at seven on the dot. normally he comes to the door to get you but this time he doesn't—it doesn't matter since you were waiting by the window anyways. he leans over to open the passenger seat door from the inside for you and you beam up at him.

if you were a little less elated—you might have realized rafe always gets out to open the door for you. he helps you up because his truck is so high and you're a little unsteady in the heels you wear for dates.

you've got it tucked in your little purse—a nice watch, in a little red box. it's vintage and pretty and perfect for rafe. you had put topper and kelce in a groupchat this morning and asked what they thought something nice for rafe would be, something he didn't already have in spades.

you just want to wait until after dinner to surprise him with it—but looking at your silent boyfriend drive to the restaurant, you wonder if you'll get the chance.

he doesn't have to say anything, you can tell something's wrong. your smiling greeting had been met with a quiet hey, with no nickname attached at the end. there was no compliment on your new dress or how pretty your hair looked. and worst of all, he hadn't even smiled in your direction since you got in the car.

you must have done something. rafe never took out his bad moods on you. you just don't know what you did.

rafe parks at the restaurant, and you look straight ahead at the sun setting in the clouds, and then down at your lap instead of at your boyfriend, waiting. waiting for him to say something, waiting to figure out what's gone wrong.

neither of you say anything for what feels like ages. rafe sighs—heavy and with a distinctness, like he's annoyed and angry and though he's not saying it, that it's at you.

"c'mon. we're gonna miss our reservation." you look back at him with parted lips and big eyes. if you were a little more confident, more sure of yourself and not so reliant on others for approval, you would shoot back a witty yet cutting remark. it even burns on your tongue-is that really what you care about right now?

but you're not that girl, never have been and never will be.

"rafe, i'm sorry," you finally say, said with such sincerity you don't think you've ever meant a sentence more. "whatever i did, i'm sorry. you're so upset.. and i don't want to ruin dinner-"

"you apologizin' because you know what you did was wrong? or because you want me to stop bein' mad? which one?"

you're a little dumbfounded—you don't think rafe's ever spoken to you like this the whole time you've know him. and you still don't know what you did.

"no, i.. i don't know what i did. i'm just sorry."

it's pathetic, almost. but you are—hopelessly, pathetically in love. so much so you'll apologize without a reason, that you'll do anything to make your boyfriend stop being upset.

"kid, i-i know we haven't been dating that long, but you can't just go around flirting with my friends. it's just not-"

you don't even hear the end of his sentence. flirting? with rafe's friends? you could barely bring yourself to flirt with rafe, much less his friends.

"when did i do that?" you ask, your made-up face twisted in confusion and concern. "rafe, i would never. ew. no offense to them, i guess. but-"

"so you didn't ask kelce and top for their numbers? both of them?"

"is that you think? that i was flirting?" your spine straightens in your seat, cheeks aflame. "is that what they said to you?" suddenly rafe's concerns mean very little—had you given kelce and topper such an impression?

this was bad. this was very bad. that was sarah's ex-boyfriend, and you certainly didn't want your best friend thinking you were flirting with him. or kelce—who you were trying to get set up with your other friend.

"they said you asked for their numbers. that shit's not fun to hear from your friends, kid. s'fucking embarrassing-"

your face feels hotter, if possible. your cheeks are wet with tears, eyes burning with more. it is embarrassing. you should have known that, should have thought it through. of course rafe's friends told him, you hadn't told them to keep it a secret. swallowing painfully, you try to look back at rafe again but it just makes you want to sob.

"i'm sorry rafe," you say, hating how it comes out in between hiccups with fresh tears. "i-i was just-"

"just what?" rafe's tone makes you want to cry even harder. you rummage through your little purse—stupidly realizing you hadn't even brought a wallet, just your lipgloss and rafe's gift. you take out the tiny box, handing it to rafe.

"i-i just wanted to ask them their opinion. what to get you f-for our two months," you hiccup again, watching rafe stare down at the box. "i'm sorry. i'm really sorry, i would never-"

"shit. kid, i-they didn't tell me any of that."

"i just asked today. and i-i didn't tell them to keep it a secret, so it's my fault and i'm really sorry."

you probably sound pathetic—you certainly feel that way. you wouldn't be surprised if rafe turned the car around and dropped you back home.

"hey. hey. look at me. m'sorry, kid. i didn't know any of that. and this is a really sweet gift, okay? i like it. i love it."

you keep blinking back at rafe, unable to do anything else. you still feel stupid. rafe leans over, wiping away some your tears with his hand. you rest your head against his hand when it does it.

"are you still mad?" you ask quietly, still unsure what the answer will be.

"no, baby, m'not bad. i'm sorry."

"okay. i'm sorry too." you stay silent still, unsure what to say. this is the first time you've ever been in a situation like this with rafe. "i think we missed our reservation."

"yeah kid. pizza and ice cream it is."

"no. you can't wear your new watch for pizza and ice cream."

"sure i can. m'never taking this off."

[tojikai]

Sundered 2: EMBERS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's not sad.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 

They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 

Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?

Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?

You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.

Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 

Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.

Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 

She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.

You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 

He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 

You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 

“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 

“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.

Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…

You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.

“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.

“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 

You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.

You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.

You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 

Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.

“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.

“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You grew up without a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.

“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.

You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 

You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 

Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 

—--------------------------------

“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.

He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.

“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 

Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?

He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.

“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.

—-------------------------------------

After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.

“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.

Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 

You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.

“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 

Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.

“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?

Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.

“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.

“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 

“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.

“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.

You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 

“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 

“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.

You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 

You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 

Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 

You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.

He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.

His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.

Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 

It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.

It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 

It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 

But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?

“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 

Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.

At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 

“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.

“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.

“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.

“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.

“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now that you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.

“Please, just—just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 

Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.

Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.

—------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.

He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.

He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.

Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?

Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.

So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 

“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.

“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 

Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.

“Think you know who I am now?” 

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[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical

↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker

↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule

• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death

• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night

• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way

• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind

• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly

• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out

• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile

• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear

• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit

• “Hey! Watch it!”

• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair

• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways

• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass

• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard

• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now

• “Not exactly.” He huffed

• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting

• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact

• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so

• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids

• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles

• But you? Well—

• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”

• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake

• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously

• “Uh, my bad?”

• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half

• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise

• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles

• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously

• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement

• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that