#he's not much for words anyway hehehe hint hint

[frickinsleepdeprived]

Ride or Die Part 1

Sanemi x Fem! Reader - Motorcycle Club AU

Word Count: 9.4K

TW: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT - READ THE DAMN WARNINGS BEFORE READING P L E A S E: Mentions of violence ● school fights ● blood ● so much fucking blood ● domestic violence ● hospitals ● alcohol ● marijuana ● vaping/smoking ● reader being a stubborn bitch ● Sanemi being even more of a stubborn bitch ● so much fucking angst ● Sanemi has unpleasant memories of a lost loved one ● readers going through some shit-

CW: MINORS DNI - Reader has a wet dream and gets herself off in her sleep in Sanemi’s room (and Sanemi hopelessly watches, therefore by extension, voyeurism.)

A/N: HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME- After promising this *checks calendar and cringes* New Years of this year and April of this year, I’m finally done with the first part of this multipart fic! No explicit smut in this part unfortunately, this is mostly about the opening dynamics between Sanemi and Reader. Smut, however, will definitely come in the next part hehehe- enjoy! I hope I didn’t disappoint with this lol

...

The moment she opened her eyes, she couldn't register anything. It was dark, darker than the abyss of her mind as her mind slowly manifested into consciousness. 

Though (Y/N)’s head was still foggy, she was able to figure out where she was. She was in a car, an SUV at that. Two women hunched over here trying to keep her bleeding at bay and her mind focused on something else. Her immediate thoughts were simple.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hey, can you hear me? Are you awake?” One female voice called out, it sounds like she's crying, more than likely she was worried. Another female voice scolded the other.

“Are you blind?! Of course she's awake! She's just not able to comprehend anything right now, Suma. And if she is, it's a damn miracle.” The voice, deadpan and flat, was from another woman. “Besides, it's not like she's in any position to answer questions anyway.”

“No no, ask all the questions you can. Get as much information as possible, Makio. The more the better.” Another female voice called out from the front passenger seat. Her voice soothing and calm, one could only assume she had the patience of a saint. “Tengen, love, can you make this go any faster?”

“There's a problem with that, Hinatsuru. Last time I was speeding with Kyojuro in the back after he got in a fight with Seis Lunas, I got pulled over for doing forty over the speed limit. Like, yeah, the cop was cool and all, let me off with a warning. But still, not risking it.”

That name…

That fucking name.

“Wh-what?! What the hell?! Where am I?!” (Y/N) sat up immediately. That name, Seis Lunas, wasn't something to be taken lightly. That name was the very foundation of her pain. The catalyst for her suffering and the only reason why she's in the situation she's in now. “WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S THAT FUCKING BASTARD?!” her mind turned to one thing; fight or flight. And it looks like she chose to fight. The two women in the backseat holding her down to the seat and trying to calm her down as best as they can.

“Makio do something!” Suma cried out, struggling to keep (Y/N) from not only injuring herself more, but from trying to keep herself and her sister-wife from getting punched in the face

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ANYTHING SUMA SHES FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!” Makio screamed, restraining both of the injured girl’s wrists and holding them down. (Y/N)’s tears making her feel a hint of remorse.

“Well try something!” Suma retorted, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt as she pressed hard on (Y/N)’s thigh, causing the poor woman to yelp in pain. “Aaaaaahhhh I’m sorry-!” 

Their bickering and arguing only caused (Y/N)’s state of mind to worsen. The tears streaming out of her eyes proved that she was not only trying to keep her screams of pain at bay, but she was also terrified- no, she was mortified.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” The male shouted, both of the women quieting at a moment's notice. “Alright, here's what the fuck we're doing. Makio, Suma, keep the lady's bleeding stable. Hina, start asking questions, and you,” He pointed to (Y/N) in the backseat, his voice turning calm, yet still stern as ever. “Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. We're taking you to a hospital.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. The last place she needed to be, of all places, was a damn hospital. “No, you don't get a say. No, you don't get to just fight us on this. This is happening, because it'll be hell or high water if we don't get you some help.” His tone was final, as if no one could argue with him.

Going to a hospital meant many things; healthcare, security, stability, and of course, a chance to get better in peace. But this? 

This would be anything but peaceful.

“No… no no no please-” (Y/N) protested softly. Sweat began to collect on her brow and her hands started to shake. Makio kept a hand on her forehead while Suma suppressed the bleeding.

“Whoa whoa, hey. It's okay, you're going to be fine. The doctors and nurses at Saint Tamayo are amazing, Hina would know, she works there. You've got nothing to worry about.” Makio tried to soothe her.

“No! You don't understand, if I go, he'll find me. He's got eyes everywhere, there's no way I can stay under the radar.” (Y/N) started to panic. She never went to hospitals for that reason. She was used to treating her wounds on her own, let alone fighting for her life.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tengen commented.

“Sure?” Her head tilted to the side as (Y/N) gave him an unsure confirmation. 

“Does this have anything to do with Seis Lunas?” The albino man asked, his maroon eyes flashing in the rear view mirror at her. The mere name alone sent her into a state of panic, but it was a silent panic. The kind where one would freeze, then look away. The one where it would make someone unsure of what to say, but their body language and expressions said it all. “Hinatsuru-”

“I'm calling Windbreaker and Ouroboros right now.” Windbreaker? Ouroboros? If these people are who (Y/N) thinks it is, then she's in for a lot more than she bargained for. “Hey, we're stepping on the gas. Seems like this girl is involved with some sort of domestic situation with the Kizuki, and it doesn't look good either… yeah,” she looked to Tengen “Step on the fucking gas, we have to get there before the Kizuki do.”

“Where to?” Tengen replied, his voice unsure and worried. (Y/N) speaking up before Hinatsuru could.

“I told you guys once, and I'll say it again, if I go to a hospital, he will find me and I will be dead!” Her voice was hoarse, the pain becoming too much to bear. One more moment in this car and she'll more than likely die from stress alone than the actual blood loss. Hinatsuru gave her a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. “I… I get you guys are trying to help and I get that it's important I get the proper medical care but I'm fine-”

“You are anything but fine! You’re going to a goddamn hospital and that is final!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, picking up speed and rushing towards Saint Tamayo hospital. “Do you know what kind of condition we found you in? You were covered in sweat and vomit, you went into shock. You're not fine and you're going to the hospital. And I swear to God if you try and back out of this again, I'll personally see to it that you're restrained to the fucking gurney once we get there. Got it?”

“That's unsettling!” (Y/N) shrieked, her voice strained with tears and horror. Makio sighed and held her close, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple, all platonic.

And that's when everything got faster, and everything turned dark.

…

A young albino man sped on his motorcycle on the highway. A determined, seemingly menacing look on his face as he rode alongside a fellow biker- a group of them, actually.

It was times like this when he was more focused than he was with his own day job. Going ninety on the highway when he knew the speed limit was sixty-five. He could easily get pulled over by one of those state troopers if he and his fellow riders aren’t careful. Yet, that doesn’t stop him, because this is personal for him.

Needless to say, he doesn’t like to hear about domestic violence. Not that he doesn’t care, because he does, deeply. But the thought of a woman being beaten by a man. He was raised better than that. 

And by God if he doesn’t do something about it now, it’ll be the end of his pride.

Skidding and drifting on the asphalt of the highway, he took an exit and slowed to a halt at the light. Finding the time to open his helmet shield and take a hit off of his vape. The strong, raspberry and pineapple scented smoke wafting in the chill of the fall night, causing him to sigh as he quickly put the cancerous device back into his pocket and closed his shield. Revving his engine, he sped off as the light turned green, making his way to Saint Tamayo with the rest of the group riding with him.

Maybe this time, he’d be able to save someone. Albeit it’s someone he doesn’t know, but at least it's a life saved… hopefully.

…

Her kicks and screams resounded at the entrance of the emergency room. Her fighting was rough, and unfair.

(Y/N) was a scrapper, a dirty one at that. Even through the blood loss and the injuries she had, she could still put up one hell of a fight despite seeing black. Not red, black.

“Dammit! You’re going to injure yourself more if you keep fighting!” Makio struggled to get her out of the SUV. Holding onto (Y/N)’s underarms as Hinatsuru and Suma took hold of her legs. Tengen’s hands gently restraining the injured woman’s wrists as they loaded her into a wheelchair.

Though, (Y/N)’s efforts proved to be vain and futile; becoming far too stressed. Nurses and doctors rushed out to see what was wrong, and upon seeing the state of her injuries, they had no choice but to take the poor soul in. (Y/N) kicked, punched, writhed and squirmed the entire time the hospital staff took her to the back. A group of motorcycles pulled up in the parking lot and walked briskly to the quartet waiting at the entrance of the emergency room.

“About damn time you showed up Windbreaker. Where the hell were you?” Tengen sighed deeply, running a hand through his silken white hair. Windbreaker took off his helmet, exposing his scarred face to the bitter chill of the night. His leather jacket is not doing much to shield him from the cold either. The rest of the riders took off their helmets as well, most of them male, but two of them female.

“Well, trafficks fucking horrendous. Not to mention, state troopers are everywhere tonight. I’m surprised that me and the rest of us didn’t get pulled over. But that's neither here nor there.” Windbreaker spoke casually, watching the taller albino and three ladies in front of him light a cigarette. “And you get onto me for vaping, hypocrite.”

“Hey, this is stressful, cut me and the ladies some damn slack.” Tengen sighed, taking a heavy drag and exhaling deeply. “How’d you even come across her anyways? Were you and Ouroboros just out riding around or something?”

“Man, we watched the poor girl crash.” A ravenette cut in, his short hair tied into a small ponytail at the dead middle of the back of his head and a mask concealing his nose and mouth. A pink haired cutie in a pair of denim short-shorts, a white crop top, a pair of riding boots, and a leather vest attached to his hip. “We don’t know where the black eye, bruised knuckles, and the cut on her thigh came from though. However, we’re thinking it’s some sort of domestic from what we all heard over the phone.” He spoke grimly, a cold and distant look in his eyes as he spoke of (Y/N), gripping his female companion tighter by the hip as he sighed.

“Well, the way she spoke of Seis Lunas earlier makes it seem like it is domestic. She was practically hollering and begging us to not take her here. Like, yeah, she acknowledged she needs the attention for her wounds, but she did mention something about how Sies will come around at some point, he’ll find her and kill her is what she said.” Makio chimed in, throwing her cigarette butt on the pavement and stomping it out. “Woman’s so stubborn that she started fighting us in the backseat, but she was too weak to get any real licks in.”

“Well, that comes as part of being involved with the Kizuki, I guess.” Windbreaker spoke with a snort, taking another drag from his vape as a few of the other riders went into the waiting room of the ER. “But regardless, the priority here is this chick and what the hell happened to her. I’m betting she has a concussion too, she wasn’t really smart with the way she was riding earlier. No helmet, no protective gear.”

“Maybe she was in a rush?” The pink haired girl spoke up, “I mean, if it's a domestic like we’re suspecting, then chances are she was just trying to get away from her aggressor quickly regardless of any implicated consequences.” The men nodded in agreement, they had to admit, despite her being a bit of a bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl, she’s got her wits about her. “Not to mention, no one would ride like that if it wasn’t serious.”

“That much is true… anyways, we should probably head in with the rest. I’m sure they’re getting the rundown on her injuries right now.” Windbreaker spoke up, watching the others put out their cigarettes and hide away their vapes. Some of them had flasks, making him shake his head in disapproval.

Maybe this time he can save the poor soul he found on the side of the road. But from the looks of it right now, (Y/N) won’t be recovering anytime soon.

After all, extensive injuries like that don’t just heal overnight.

…

About a week had passed and (Y/N) was, arguably, in worse shape than she was before. Eye still blue and black- slowly turning yellow, her scars stitched up and wrapped heavily. A few broken ribs and a concussion, but expected to make a full recovery. Still and unconscious in an ICU room, Windbreaker stood by her bedside, and not once did he want to leave. Doctor or nurse came in to check on (Y/N)? He was right in the corner watching silently. Anytime anyone else was in the room, he made sure he was there so that way nothing would go south- and god forbid anything happen, lest someone wanted to face the lilac eyed man’s wrath.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was oblivious to the man’s presence. When she came to, she gave him a look of confusion. “Wh- who?-” she was cut short by his quick interjection.

“Eh, just the guy that saved your life. You’re lucky I caught you in time, well, me and the others did.” The albino spoke softly, yet something in his voice sounded stern. “You’re also lucky you didn’t die.”

“Well excuse me macho, but I didn’t need saving.” (Y/N)’s curt response stirred a slight annoyance in him, though, he couldn’t help but be strangely amused at her sharp tongue and cold words. “If anything, he’s-” once again, (Y/N) was cut off.

“He’s gonna find you and he’s gonna kill you? Yeah, I heard that whole rant on the phone sweetcheeks.”

“...Sweetcheeks?” The disdain in her voice was palpable, dripping with scorn and offense, yet she couldn’t help but blush at the thought of being called such an endearing name. Yet she knew such sweet words could be laced with the most bitter of intentions. “I- I’m not sweet, dammit!”

“Well, maybe not sweet, but definitely helpless, at least for the moment.” He spoke candidly, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair by the woman’s bedside. “Your bikes totaled too, I’m not sure if it can be salvaged either.”

“Goddammit- okay, who are you? Name, please, I can’t be talking to strangers right now, my psyche can’t handle it.” (Y/N)’s voice sounded hoarse, likely from the screaming she was doing last night. The man sighed, running his hand through the mess of silver locks on his head, he was losing himself in his mind. Plagued with thoughts the last time something like this happened… the last time he couldn’t save someone like her.

“Name’s Windbreaker.” he spoke with finality, “I ride with the hashira, as if the patches on my vest weren’t a dead give away already. You crashed last night, like I said, your bikes totaled and more than likely scrap at this point. You’re extremely lucky to be alive, but you’re also kinda dumb for driving the way you were.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at his comments, scoffing slightly as she rubbed her sore eyes, wincing slightly when she touched them.

“Well, Windbreaker, when you’re trying to get away from an abusive ex like Seis Lunas, you don’t have a choice but to ride fast. Whether I ended up dead or alive is a different story.” The last of her strength was used to hoist herself up, but only to fail when she tried with all her might to use her upper body strength. Flopping back onto the mattress, her head hitting the pillow, letting out a defeated sigh as she looked over at him. She drank in the sight of him, her eyes narrowing in recognition, but she wouldn’t dare say anything about it, at least not yet. The real question is why the hell he looked so familiar. “Anyways, why did you decide to “save�� my sorry ass?”

“Because I was raised better than the scum of the earth that decided to do this to you. Besides, why the hell would I just let you die anyways? That’s blatant negligence on my end.” He crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation. Did she really think she wasn’t worth saving, that she wasn’t worth anyone’s time? It only made him wonder how much Seis Lunas had broken her down and rebuilt her in his image. “Did I mention that you’re also quite the fighter?”

“Yeah, you kinda have to be in this cruel world.” (Y/N) sighed as she spoke, looking at the IV that’s lodged into her hand. “As soon as I get out of here, it's back into hiding.”

“Hiding? Where?” His eyebrows raised in intrigue, but his concern outweighed his curiosity, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “This town isn’t exactly big, you know.” He sighed softly, tilting his head.

“Wherever the hell is farthest from town. Might go two counties over if I’m honest.” She spoke with yet another resigned sigh. It was as if she was giving into whatever her circumstances threw at her. Which honestly, was quite sad in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but… don’t you have a place to go? Family? Friends?” His voice grew solemn.

“Family lives out of state, as far as friends go, I have none of them. Seis asserted his “dominance” and drove all of them away. Now I’m just out of touch with all of them.” This… this hurt Windbreaker, hard. It was like someone put him in her place. At this rate, he hurt for her. 

He might just bleed for her.

…

Weeks followed, then about a month and a half. After (Y/N) had been discharged from the hospital and started physical therapy, he hadn’t heard anything from her since. With every passing night, the bitter chill seemed to get even colder as Windbreaker thought about her. He would stay up at night, haunted by the things she told him about Seis Lunas.

“Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

That one stung the most, if anything, it tore his heart in two. And though he probably shouldn’t be thinking about her, because she was only saved out of what he felt was obligation, he couldn’t help it. After all, a woman’s safety, to him, was probably the most precious thing he keeps close to himself. But a snap of someone’s fingers alerted his senses elsewhere. A certain masked ravenette staring down at him with cold eyes.

“You’re thinking about her again.” He spoke, his eyebrow raised as he stood in the doorway of the silverette’s room within the confines of the Hashira clubhouse. With a heavy sigh, Ouroboros leaned on the doorframe of Windbreaker's room. “Let her go, man, she likely doesn't want to see any of us again. I mean, unless you want to be a creep and go find her.”

“It's not being a creep if it's a welfare check. I know you'd do the same for L'Amour if she was in that girl's position.” Windbreaker sighed, sitting up shirtless from where he was laying on his bed. Picking up a black muscle shirt and slipping it on. “Where are we meeting for church?”

“Dive bar downtown, it's usually pretty empty on Sundays so everything we're gonna talk about should be safe and sound.” The ravenette took his hair down to re-tie it. “And after all is said and done, I'm getting L'Amour to cut my hair.” Ouroboros sighed and crossed his arms, one gold eye and the other blue looking at Windbreakers lilac ones. “If you happen to come across that girl, though, offer the clubhouse to her or something. I'm sure Mariposa wouldn't mind feeding her or anything.”

“She likely needs it, god knows where she is now.” The silverette rubbed the sleep from his eyes, putting on a pair of riding pants. “Matter of fact, I think I might go out now. Do a scan throughout town and see if I can find her.”

“You're really hellbent over this, aren't you? Isn't this what happened with-” Ouroboros was cut off by Windbreakers cold stare. “Nevermind… anyways, church is at seven at the dive bar downtown, don't be late.'' With that, Ouroboros walked out. Not a care in the ravenettes eyes as his footsteps thundered on the carpeted floor of the clubhouse. Windbreaker sighed deeply, setting out to ride around town for the girl he saved a few weeks back.

But he came up empty.

…

Stepping into the establishment, clad in a pair of dark jeans and an equally dark shirt with a pair of sunglasses, (Y/N) hoped no one would recognize her.

Many clubs, including the Kizuki and the Hashira, come to this particular bar for church. (Y/N) has always been to these meetings, but never allowed a chance to voice anything thanks to the Kizuki being a one-percenter club. Always left in the background, or attached to Seis Lunas’ hip with a drink in hand. (Y/N)’s car keys attached to one of her belt loops as she sat on a stool at the bar counter. The doctor told her not to drink, but it was her only hope at forgetting that horrible and damn near fatal night.

Part of her, however, winced as the bartender poured the amber brown, poisonous liquid into a glass with whiskey stones. Yet the other part was screaming “DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK-” As the young woman brought the class to her lips, a bitter euphoria overwhelmed her senses. The grainy, caramel scent comforted her mind as she downed the whole glass in one singular swig, not a damn given about the consequences. Over in the left of her peripheral vision stood the hashira motorcycle club. Perhaps they were having church, or maybe they all decided to get out of the clubhouse for an evening. Either way, (Y/N) kept her head low, making sure it wasn’t obvious that she may or may not be eavesdropping, even if it were a breach of privacy.

“Come on man, get over her. She’s likely out of the hospital and doing better. Besides, she’s probably far out of town anyways.” Tengen patted Windbreaker on the back, passing him a pint of whatever draft beer was in the glass. The silverette shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Still don’t drink? Man, you’re twenty-one goddamn years old! Live a little!”

“You know me, I don’t drink, and I won’t drink until Genya’s out of high school.” Windbreaker sighed, his silver hair unruly and a mess from the ride around town. Though, Tengen did have a point; he’s a grown man, what’s stopping him from drinking? Besides, his younger brother is old enough to take care of himself. But then he remembered what his brother had been through, and that was enough to make the lilac eyed man turn down alcohol, regardless of the occasion.

It was like that for three hours; three hours of Windbreaker turning down drinks and of (Y/N) actively avoiding the temptation to turn her gaze to the group of bikers. Of course, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had been sipping on her third drink for a while now, lost deep in thought of where to go from here, until she got a call. “Hello? Yes, this is her… I’m sorry? Ah, I see, I’m on my way.” Stepping down from the barstool, (Y/N) quickly makes her way out of the bar, her movements quick and fluid- amid the pain of her injuries. It seems like someone was following her out, yet she paid no mind. Slipping into her car, she speeds off towards Kimetsu High, where she’s supposed to pick up two troublemakers that got into a fight. Of course she had to be the one the school called, Jim Jones was too neglectful to even do anything. Reyes was too busy- as was Seis Lunas. Spinjutsu, well, Spinjutsu just doesn’t want anything to do with that. So it’s up to (Y/N) to make sure the bullshit gets settled.

Only God knows what kind of trouble they’ve caused this time.

…

“I’m sorry you did what?!” The two kids in front of her; a girl with long platinum, green tipped hair and caked makeup and a boy with a scrawny, lean build, rolled their eyes and sighed deeply. “How many damn times do I have to tell you guys?! Stop. Getting. Into. Fights! You will be suspended or expelled, or at worst, arrested!” (Y/N) groaned at the thought, rubbing her sore eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where are the kids you beat up? And don’t tell me they’re in the nurse's office.” The girl had a guilty look on her face. “Isis, what the fuck did you guys do?”

“Well, we had to teach them a lesson somehow.” The boy spoke up, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair, as if all of this was just normal. “And hell yeah, they’re in the nurse's office, and I bet that those hashira bastards are on their way to come pick them up now.” He had an almost proud look on his face, as did his female companion. The two siblings had always found a way to get themselves into trouble, whether it be minor or major things. They’ve always been troublemakers, even before (Y/N) came around.

A distinct voice came in through the door of the front office; male, gruff, and definitely pissed off. (Y/N) looked up from the two to face who it was, lo and behold it was Windbreaker. “Yes, I’m Genya Shinazugawa’s older brother. Now where is he?” He was practically interrogating the front desk clerk, who basically had no answers to his questions, and that only pissed him off more.

“The nurses office. I’m talking with the assailants right now, actually. Also, nice to see you again, I guess.” (Y/N) spoke up, her voice tired and frustrated, just like his. Windbreaker looked up at her, making a beeline in her direction. The look of rage in his eyes was palpable, but she knew it wasn’t for her. “Look, I know that this is unexpected, but I’ve got this.”

“Oh no, no no no. Your siblings or whatever the hell those two are, they’re gonna pay. They’re gonna pay double. Because no one, and I mean no one lays a damn finger on my brother.” He spoke sternly. “And by God if I have anything to say about it, I’d say lock those two the hell up if they’re not going to alternative school.” (Y/N) sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. This situation, on top of her injuries and meeting Windbreaker in unforeseen circumstances, was too much.

“I… I understand that. Believe me, if they were my blood siblings, I’d definitely make a decision on their behalf. But unfortunately, I’m not, so there’s very little that I could do legally. Rest assured though, I have all of this under control.” She winced at the pain in her black eye, a headache looming in her skull. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the principal and see what the hell those two will be going through as far as a punishment goes.” (Y/N) stepped into the principal’s office, shutting the door behind her and leaving the silverette out in the lobby. 

The conversation didn’t last long, it was only a matter of time before (Y/N) learned that the two siblings wouldn’t be receiving a punishment at all, considering this was the first incident of the year. With a frustrated sigh, she snapped her fingers at the two siblings and motioned for them to follow her. But before she left, she passed Windbreaker a piece of paper. “If these two assholes cause you any other issues, call me.”

Windbreaker stared at the piece of paper and sighed deeply, nodding solemnly. “Will do, thanks.” He looked down at the contact information. “(Y/N) (L/N): (***) ***-****”

He would make sure to remember this.

…

It had been a while since that encounter, (Y/N) would receive calls here and there from Windbreaker, who’s contact name came up as “Sanemi”. She had assumed that was his real name, as if the name “Windbreaker” wasn’t enough evidence to it being an alias. “Look, all I’m saying is that Isis and Osiris are just… troubled. But that’s still no excuse for what they’ve done. And what's more, I’m not even their legal guardian, Jim Jones is.” Sanemi, on the other end, let out a scoff.

“Well, that explains a lot. He just lets those kids just run around and do whatever?” he asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. “Moreover, why the hell does Jim Jones of all people have custody of two teens anyways? That guy’s an internet cult leader and everyone knows it.”

“Alleged cult leader, but I have my suspicions also. No one really knows how he got custody of those two in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Where are you anyways? I hear something in the background.” (Y/N) spoke up, which caught Sanemi off guard, why is she so interested in him all of a sudden?

“Oh, uh, I’m at the hashira clubhouse. One of the members wanted me to offer it to you at the hospital once you got out. But you kinda went off the grid for a while afterwards, so I never got the chance. Where are you though? You sound like you’re outside or something.” He asked softly, concern lacing his voice despite not knowing her well enough to truly have the right to be truly worried.

“... weeeeellllllllll-” her voice trailed off, awkward and nervous before she was cut off by the silverette.

“Location, now.” He demanded, his voice stern and cold.

“And if I don’t?” (Y/N) scoffed, not taking him seriously.

“I’ll scour this entire town looking for you.” Sanemi concluded.

“I’d love to see you try.” She spoke confidently, as if challenging him to even try to get near her. She hung up, and just to humor him, gave him her location. There's no way he’d actually show up, right? “Not to mention, that's an awfully mighty claim for someone that barely knows me. What makes you think I’d go to someone else’s house when I barely know them?” Sanemi scoffed on the other end of the phone. 

“Well, for one, rude. Two, I don’t have a house, at least not yet, working on that.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now, will you please drop your damn location so I don’t have a heart attack?” (Y/N) groaned softly at that… something about that noise roused something within Sanemi. It was wrong, so devastatingly wrong, he barely knows her. Why is he feeling so warm inside at the prospect of bringing her back with him?

“What has you so concerned, Sanemi? You only brought me to the hospital once, besides, it’s not like we’re dating. Unless I need to clarify that for you?” The woman’s tone was annoyed, and definitely not the warmest. “Look, I appreciate your concern and interest in me, that is if there’s any sort of interest or concern in the first place, but I’m okay-”

“You’re not fine, you hear me?! You’re still injured, you’re still being hunted by the Kizuki!” Sanemi snapped, sighing deeply as he threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna let you be out there alone. So do me a favor, drop me your location so I can at least get you somewhere safer. You don’t have to come anywhere with me if you don’t want to. I get that I don’t know you very well and that's fine, but at least let me make sure you’re okay. Please?” There was something about his voice… it was desperate, that much (Y/N) could tell. But there was a hint of something else.

Was… was that longing she heard?

“I- you know what, fine. But don’t expect anything to come of this, because that’d be entirely by coincidence.” She sent him her precise location, which was a park on the other side of town.

“Are… are you fucking kidding me- That's it. Stay put, stay on the phone, I’m on my way. If one of those Kizuki fucks comes around then start running towards downtown, got it?” His voice was stern, a little too stern. It made (Y/N) roll her eyes again, but hearing him so riled up opened up her mind to other things also. She knew they were wrong, but dammit if it wasn't enticing.

“Sanemi I-” Her protests were in vain as Sanemi’s voice cut through.

“Got it?” The sound of a door slamming and a car starting made (Y/N)’s heart drop. His voice was demanding- almost too demanding as she heard his car speeding out of a parking lot. Of course there was no convincing this man otherwise, he’s far too stubborn, far too set in his ways to listen to anyone else’s opinion.

“... Alright, just uh, get here quick, I guess.” Her voice was unsure, but her mind was already seemingly made up, not by her own choice of course. With the way Sanemi spoke to her, it’s almost as if he cares. It’s eerily similar to the way Seis Lunas would talk to her, but this is different somehow. It has no malicious intention, at least she hopes it wouldn’t. He’s definitely hard to read, well, that's a lie. His intentions are obvious- painfully obvious. But (Y/N) just can’t shake the feeling of an ulterior motive, especially after everything Seis Lunas put her through; the rat bastard broke her, that much was evident. With a heavy sigh, she sits on a curb and sparks a blunt, inhaling on the Lord’s lettuce and exhaling in the same manner it went in- deep, sharp, and heavenly. The sangria flavored cigarillo wrap made it a little easier to smoke, though she had it in the back of her mind that she probably should’ve gotten a real tobacco leaf to smoke out of; but that's neither here nor there right now. 

As she awaited the hot tempered silverette’s arrival, she contemplated her next move. Would she stay in town? Would she leave and never come back? Where would she go, knowing that her family is far away and friends were out of touch because of her association with the Kizuki, even if it is now former? (Y/N)’s mind raced, her heart heavy as the stress became too much to bear. The heartstrings were pulling, the tears pooled in her eyes- which she quickly wiped away. Reminding herself that she's a grown woman and capable of handling herself. She didn’t need a man, despite how she had to accustom herself to the lifestyle synonymous to that of a housewife. A degrading thought, really, because she never figured she’d find herself at the mercy of someone who is pretty much a stranger, and a member of a rival motorcycle club to boot. “How could I have let myself fall so hard from where I was?” was her immediate thought. Though even her thoughts didn’t quench the sweltering fire that were the burning questions of her uncertain future.

Sanemi, on the other hand, was occupied with other thoughts. Why was (Y/N) out in a park on the other side of town at one o’clock in the morning? What happened to the beat up pontiac grand prix she owned; the one that had a missing front bumper and chipped dark blue paint? Whatever happened the night she was taken to the hospital by Tengen and his wives? He remembered her mentioning something about Seis Lunas being her ex, but that was the extent of it. But the mention of Seis Lunas raised even more questions in his mind. Why was (Y/N) even affiliated with the brutal one-percenter club in the first place? How did she come to meet Seis Lunas? Why was she Osiris and Isis’ emergency contact at the very same school that Genya, along with other Hashira prospects, go to?

As both of their minds were caught up in a slew of questions and thoughts, Sanemi had reached her location faster than he had anticipated. He hung up the call and got out of the black sedan he drives, looking around and spotting (Y/N) almost immediately. Her condition seemingly improved; the black eye was nearly gone and she didn’t look as lethargic as before. Though, there was no mistaking the fatigue in her body language as he stepped closer and closer to her. His movements slow, cautious, and weary as if he were moving towards an injured dog. “Hey…” those were his immediate words. She looked up at him, an involuntary breath of relief escaping her lungs as she took another hit off of the blunt. He sat beside her on the curb, lighting his own cigarette and taking a drag. “You alright?” She looked over at him, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay, but to no avail, seeing as how they just couldn’t stop falling.

“Depends on what your definition of “okay” is.” (Y/N) spoke softly, her sigh heavy and tired as she took another hit from the blunt. “Car broke down, and I've been walking ever since. Just kinda left it there, it was a piece of shit anyways. Payments were overdue, tags were no good and it had no insurance. If  anything if I was caught riding around in it I’d get arrested, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise or something.” Was she ranting now? She’s never done that before, especially not in front of Sanemi. Like, yeah, they’ve had their fair share of long talks over the phone, but never about personal struggles. She was far too prideful to want to admit she needed help, so why do so now? Sanemi sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, taking another drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.

“I getcha, it's hard to figure out your priorities, especially in a situation like yours. Hell, maybe it really was a blessing in disguise, considering the Kizuki would know what your car looks like. I’d have definitely ditched the car if it meant your safety.” He took another drag from his cigarette and looked at her. “But I guess you’re not really one to worry about things like that huh?” (Y/N) looked his way with a sneer.

“Really? You’re seriously asking me that? My bike is totaled, my car is gone, all of my shit is at the Kizuki hideout. I doubt Seis Lunas would give it back to me anyways, hell, he probably already burned most of my clothes and broke a lot of my valuables.” She shook her head and took another heavy drag from the blunt. “I don’t even think he wants to see me anyways.” Tears filled her eyes, but she was quick to blink them away. Though this didn’t escape Sanemi, seeing the tears in her eyes broke his own heart. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t feel something for her, but he couldn’t help it.

What’s more, (Y/N) feels something for him also, and it’s definitely not what she’s supposed to be feeling. It’s not contempt she feels, but pure and utter infatuation for someone who’s basically a stranger. They barely know each other, hell, they don’t even know the most basic information about one another. They don’t know each other's hopes, dreams, aspirations- not even what the other person’s favorite food is. Why the hell are they so hellbent on feeling this way? This isn’t supposed to be happening, this shouldn’t be happening. But (Y/N) knew that maybe it was just the overwhelming wave of emotions clouding her judgment; that it was simply the blunt she was smoking that was altering her state of mind. But weed doesn’t affect her like that, at least not when it comes to her self control. Sanemi could smell the whiskey on her breath, the weed in her blunt, the pure and utter despair she was experiencing.

He had enough of this, enough of watching her suffer. Without even thinking, he put out his cigarette and took her hand, gently guiding her up into a standing position and to his car. What the hell was he doing, taking a stranger into his car and offering help when he knew she’d probably deny it in the first place? What about (Y/N) was so enticing to him that he just had to do this? “Your hands are freezing, what the hell are you doing out here without the proper clothes? This thin hoodie of yours isn’t going to keep you warm.” He spoke sternly as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, damning the consequences of his own actions in his mind. “At this rate, you’ll catch pneumonia if you’re not careful.”

“Then let me get sick.” (Y/N) spat, a defiant huff escaping her lungs as she sniffled from the bitter chill of the otherwise clear night. Her breath came out in the form of white mist, visible in the blue-violet glow of the street lamps. “Why do you care so much about me? You’re a stranger! Why do you want to help me when you know I’m bound to suffer anyway?” Once again, Sanemi’s heart shattered, feeling his heartstrings pull as he wrapped her up in his arms, trying his hardest to keep her warm. “S-stop, just… don’t, please.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears; gone were the worries of her well being. Sanemi would make sure she was safe, no matter what it took. If the other hashiras didn’t agree, or even if the Kizuki went after him, he didn’t care. “Sanemi enough-”

“Stop. Stop talking, just shut up.” He looked her in the eyes, nothing but care and tenderness within his lilac gaze. “Do you not realize how fucked up your situation is, (Y/N)?” Sanemi spoke softly, wiping errant tears from her cold cheeks. Her skin felt like ice under his calloused, warm hands. “I met someone like you before, she… she meant the world to me, but… that's a story for another time. For now, let's just get your shit from the Kizuki. You’re not staying outside tonight, or any other night for that matter. Alright?” Her eyes narrowed, what the hell was he talking about?

“Who is this we? If you step foot near the Kizuki they’re going to kill you. I’ve seen it happen before, they don’t care who comes around, friend or not. If they don’t want you there, they’re going to hurt you.” Why was she even giving him this warning in the first place? It’s not like she cared about what happened to him or anything, he's a hashira. She’s supposed to hate him, to want nothing to do with him, to loathe him with her entire being because she was supposed to want nothing to do with him. But his touch felt warm, so comforting and so warm that she couldn’t help but lean into his scarred hands that rested on the skin of her face. His gaze was kind and caring, making a foreign feeling swell in her heart and bubble in her gut. It was never supposed to be this way. Sanemi shook his head slowly, a soft sigh escaping him as he thought about the girl in front of him now,  how she’s so eerily similar to the one he knew as Flora, at least, that's what her road name was. “Sanemi answer me!” (Y/N)’s voice brought him back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. She’s stubborn, but so was he, and he was determined to help her regardless of whatever protest he gave.

“The “we” is us, (Y/N). I’m not letting you face your ex alone. Not after what he did to you.” Sanemi’s hands ran through her hair, his touch gentle, a far cry from his usually harsh demeanor. “You were put into the ICU for weeks, doll. Who’s to say Seis wouldn’t do it again? If anything, the backup from me should be enough, and if it’s not, you’ve got a whole slew of people ready to back you up at a moment's notice.” Doll… (Y/N)’s never been called that before. “I’ll be goddamned if something like that happens to you again. I… I can’t stand to see you like that again, or like the mess you are right now. So for the love of Christ, stop being so fucking stubborn and just let me help you.” He’s conflicted now, he’s not supposed to be pining over her like this, yet, here he is. Fawning over a woman he barely knows and she’s obviously not having it- or so he thinks.

“Sanemi be honest with me are you just looking for a fuck?” (Y/N) spoke softly, her gaze meeting his in an almost intimidating manner. Her vulnerability causes her to feel weak, and that's the last thing she wants right now. After all, being weak is what almost got her killed in the first place.

“You honestly think I’m that shallow?” Sanemi scoffed, sounding almost offended as he opened his passenger side door as it started to snow. Getting in on the passenger side, he slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. “But if you really need to know, no, I’m not looking for a fuck. That's the last thing I’d look for, especially in someone who’s in a situation like yours. You’re still recovering from your injuries, don’t act like I didn’t see you limping.” He put the car in drive and headed further into town, towards the area of the Kizuki hideout. (Y/N) felt her heart drop at the thought of it, knowing that she’d have to go in there and get her stuff, even if it was just the bare minimum of her clothes. She quickly hopped on the phone and made a call.

“Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to make a call?” Sanemi questioned, raising a curious eyebrow, but his eyes gave away concern. (Y/N) looked at him with a deadpan expression, a deep sigh escaping her as she rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather die? Because that’s what's gonna happen to the both of us if I don’t call ahead of time. It’s for both of our sakes.” She redirected her attention to the conversation on the phone. “Hey, you burn my shit or is it still in your room?.. Excuse me? Donated? I mean, did you at least keep my underwear and stuff?.. You’re fucking kidding me- alright, fine… yeah, yeah, whatever… don’t get smart with me, dipshit… hey, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one that swung first, and I certainly wasn’t the one that left a gash in my leg- shut your goddamn trap, Seis- you know what, fuck you.” Sanemi’s eyes widened at her harsh language, watching her not only hang up, but completely turn off her phone also startled him as well. He let out a low whistle, cringing at the mere thought of what was said on the other line, that is, until (Y/N) spoke up again. “Just take me to the next town over, I’ll manage.”

“No.” It was an immediate response from him, as if it were easy for him to say such a thing. As if (Y/N) meant something to him, and deep down, he knew it was just utterly and horribly wrong. “I can't let you go off the grid, not after what you said to the vice president of the Kizuki. If you're with the hashira, it'll be like having bodyguards-” He was cut off yet again by her protests.

“I don't need bodyguards, Sanemi! I just need time! Time away from this godforsaken, dusty old town where there is nothing for me here!” Sanemi slammed his hand on the steering wheel, a frustrated groan ripping from his throat, pulling over on a deserted road and putting the car in park.

“Goddammit (Y/N) what the hell do you not get?! Going off the grid isn't doing you any favors! It's just a show of cowardice! That you're letting Seis, your fucking ex boyfriend win! If you go, he wins, you understand me?!” His voice raised, but never harsh, Sanemi tried his hardest to make his point known. There was a beat of silence as Sanemi collected himself. Clearing his throat with a sigh, he spoke up again. “I will not sit here and watch you destroy yourself. You know I had to pose as your boyfriend for them to give me visitation rights? You know that I made sure you were getting the proper medicine in that hospital? You may not think I care but the reality is that I do! I WON'T JUST FUCKING STAND BY AND WATCH YOU SUFFER ALONE!-” He was cut off yet again by one of (Y/N)’s frustrated groans.

“Just take me to wherever we're going then, since you won't give me a choice!” (Y/N) snapped, her arms crossed as defiant, solemn tears ran down her face. Her shivering form igniting a fire within Sanemi, making him swear a silent vow to himself.

He would keep her safe, no matter what.

Without another word, he started the car once more, and sped off to the hashira clubhouse. Blasting the speakers with rock and rap. Not a word exchanged as they drove fast and dangerous.

…

As she sleeps in Sanemi’s room, his eyes lock with Ouroboros’. “You… you actually brought her back?” The shorter man spoke incredulously, hitting his vape like it was the one thing keeping him grounded to reality. Sanemi sighed, his clothes snow-soaked and eyes tired. “Man, you're either insane, or you just lucked out.”

Sanemi scoffed, addressing his jet black haired companion by his government name. “She fell asleep in the car, Obanai. She was exhausted, god knows the last time she even slept properly.” A sigh escaped the silverette, tired and anxious, he took a hit from his own vape. “I don't even know when the last time she ate was. I mean, look at her, she's practically skin and bones.”

“Skin and bones is an exaggeration, Sanemi. She's not emaciated, she's just underweight. I'll see if we have anything, but try to fill her up with fluids for now.” Obanai deadpanned, earning himself a glare from his lilac eyed friend.

“Fluids? Really? We'll start her off small, see where it goes. If anything we can always have Mariposa or Hinasturu make sure she's okay.” Sanemi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Obanai snorted with contempt.

“Does she even have the basics? Clothes? A place of her own? Hell, does she even have a job?” The ravenette looked at (Y/N) with a scrutinizing, appraising stare, hitting his vape once more as Sanemi shot him another cold glare.

“She's working on it, dude, don't push it so hard. The more you do the more pissed off she's gonna get.” The silverette whispered to his companion. Of course she was working on it, or at least, he hoped she was working on it.

“She's asleep, she's not going to hear us-” Obanai was cut off by a female voice, one that resounded from behind them, not from the bed where (Y/N) laid asleep.

“Can a girl get any sleep around here without having to listen to yalls bitching and arguing?” They looked behind them, finding a pink ane green haired, pale skinned, green eyed girl. One who looked like she had just woken up- and was clearly irritated. “It's two in the morning, get some goddamn sleep. And you,” she pointed to Obanai, “why are you still awake? I thought you said you'd come to bed an hour ago?” Her voice turned soft, and so did Obanai's gaze. The ravenette wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be in bed soon, love, just go back to sleep. I'll be there in a moment, okay?” His whispers soothed the pinkette, who nodded softly and went back to her own room with tentative, quiet steps. Sanemi scoffed with a smirk, taking another hit from his vape.

“You might wanna do that now before your wife gets pissed again.” Obanai casted him a sharp look, heterochromic eyes meeting Sanemi’s lilac ones.

“She's not my wife.” Obanai spat.

“Well, you guys certainly act like a married couple, just saying.” Sanemi snickered, earning a groan from the jet black haired man. “But anyways, go sleep with Mitsuri. I got this from here.” With that, Obanai simply nodded and walked back to his own room to be with his lover. Sanemi looked at (Y/N), who was still sleeping, walking over to her and laying next to her. “I… I hope you're okay.” He whispered softly, memories of the former flower hashira enraptured his mind, flooding his heart with waves of melancholy and bitterness.

But this time it would be different, this time it would be-

“H-hah…” the soft gasp cuts through the air like a cleaver. Sanemi hoped it came from the other room where Obanai and Mitsuri resided. Or maybe that insufferable long haired ravenette's room- Giyuu's room, where he stayed with Shinobu. “Ah…!” Yeah, nope, that's coming from his room. Right where the wounded woman laid in his bed asleep, the slight shuffling of her body under the covers indicated some sort of dream. Whether it was a nightmare or otherwise, Sanemi couldn't tell. However, (Y/N)’s blissed out expression gave evidence to all signs pointing to anything but a nightmare.

He knew better than to disturb her, taking the cold, carpeted floor where concrete resided underneath. Using a bunched up hoodie as a pillow, he knew he had to get some sleep. Yet all he heard was the sounds of her voice; breathless and wanton as she gave into the bidding of her dreams. Her gasps and moans, hitched and hushed, as she gave into the pleasure of her subconscious mind. He knew it was dirty, he knew it was wrong to just sit there and watch her please herself; yet despite himself, his reservations, he couldn't help but to sit and listen.

Soon enough, the cold hard floor of the room proved to be useless in aiding Sanemi's battle against insomnia. Although it was against his better judgment, he gently scooped (Y/N)’s body up, and laid beside her in bed. Gently pulling the sheets over the both of them, he allows the siren call of sleep to consume him.

...

Likes, comments, asks, and reblogs are appreciated!

Tag list: @giyuuzas @peachdues @bnuuybee-writes @mitsuristoleme

[local-hyena]

SO I'VE JUST WATCHED THIS AND I AM GOING TO GIVE MY THOUGHTS ABOUT EVERY LITTLE THING

First of all, here's the synopsis.

We got a lot of details here !! Tube's Tube. I don't really understand why, but it sounds funny. 12M viens and 12,000,000 likes. Why 12 ? Is it a hint towards à 12th game ? There are currently 11 Ace Attorney games. This vidéo recaps pretty much everything (except the prof Layton crossover...), so it MIGHT point towards a new game :). On the right of "Likes" and "Share" there is "DL|6" :). We cannot see how many subscribers Nick has, but since the video has lots of likes, I think it's safe to assume that he has a good amount of subscribers and that he is possibly a youtuber (in this version of the AA universe at least). On the right we can see 3 other videos : MUST WATCH - Top 3 Bedtime Picture Books by Laurice Deauxnim-Scented Adventures with 3.8K views uploaded 2 weeks ago. We don't know when Nick's video was uploaded (most likely more recently than two weeks) but maybe Larry is a more successful youtuber than Nick ?? Also, I'm pretty sure that Franzy's Whippity-Whip Trip is in this video :). Then we have Her Benevolence dances the Panic Dance by Kingdom of Kura'in Embassy with 3.15M likes and uploaded 1 (idk) ago. Idk who this character is so uh, idk what to say. But "Panic Dance" sounds fun heh. Then we have No Objections Judge's gourmet courthouse specials by His Honor Eats with 2 views uploaded 21 years ago. Poor old Judge :(. Also, Capcom is plastered everywhere. I mean, this video is part of marketing so of course.

Now, let's move on to the actual content of the video !

You. That's you, Phoenix

Wording, Phoenix. Wording.

So Klavier can canonically produce guitar sounds out of thin air ?? I thought it was extradiegetic. Well I guess that's handful when he has to do a concert but forgot his guitar, heh !

This is peak comedy right there. Man I love Ace Attorney.

ACE ATTORNEY AND GHOST TRICK CROSSOVER WHEN ??? (Still gotta play Ghost Trick and finish AA lmao)

This image is cool.

Oh, Nick, honey... that's the kind of reference that I like heheh

I WOULD LIKE TO DISAGREE. ALTHOUGH YOU *COULD* START AT THE APOLLO JUSTICE TRILOGY (I'vo only played the first of this trilogy) WITHOUT BEING TOO LOST, YOU WOULD MISS A LOT OF CHATACTER DEVELOPMENT AND WOULD NOT QUITE UNDERSTAND HOW THE CHATACTERS GOT THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

YES PLEASE MILES TELL US ABOUT THE STEEL SAMURAI <3 <3 <3

ALSO ! Turns out that ERIC VALE did Phoenix's voice. ERIC VALE the anime voice actor !!! Thatcis so cool. I didn't recongize Edgeworth's VA (cuz i've only watched the first anime episode + the bloopers) so... idk do your own research I don't care that much honestly. How about the "Objection!" Voiceline actors tho. Who are they. They're the closest to their official voice actors.

Anyways, tl;dr : this is a recap of all of Ace Attorney (minus the Layton crossover) + Ghost Trick. There is the number 12 at the beginning and Ghost Trick is mentionned, so my theory is that they're planning a 12th game which is a Ghost Trick crossover :)

[divine-knight-hand]

Worshiping the Masterpiece

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: Loki’s lover finally gains the courage to ask him about his Jotun form. When he lets her see it, she takes the moment as an opportunity to help him do a little confidence building… by kissing… and touching… and praising…

Content Warnings: Sub!Loki (but hints of him being a switch), Soft Dom!Reader, themes of insecurity, [heavy appreciation of] Loki in his Jotun form, handjob in front of a mirror, lots of praise, no oral (but just a little taste of cum!), and explicit consent

Notes: (Prepare for lengthy notes with mushy sentiments! Hehehe!)

Happy birthday, @sarahscribbles!!! I’m still pretty new-ish to this whole tumblr-fanfic-writer thing, and I ended up gravitating to her as one of the blogs I look up to the most (specifically in terms of Loki content). So, happy, happy, happy birthday, Sarah! Remember that your community loves you very much. May you get lots of presents, cake, and Loki love~

This piece was written as a contribution to her Birthday Celebration. I originally started writing using some of the prompts from the original post, but I soon lost motivation, only to remember that I had this idea on repeat in my mind sooooo long ago, and it resurfaced just in time for me to finally put it to paper. So, I didn’t end up using any of the prompts, after all. Maybe someday I’ll finish what I originally started for this challenge and post it anyways. Maybe…

All in all, it was kind of refreshing to be able to write a fic about Loki. I don't really write about him as much as I would like to, so this writing event gave me the perfect motivation to just jump right in. So, without further ado, here we go!

Word Count: 3,547

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Absolutely not.” Loki’s eyebrows furrowed at my daring request. “I refuse to burden you with that monstrous visage.”

Loki’s response to me asking to view his Jotun form again was that of pure terror. He sat next to me on our shared bed, eyes frantically avoiding mine. He seemed a lot more timid than his usual confident disposition allowed. His hands were folded over his lap, fidgeting out of obvious discomfort at the idea of me seeing him resemble a frost giant.

The first time I saw Loki in his Jotun form, it was an accident. He was taking me on a tour of the castle vault, and all was well until I was left to my own devices. I wandered around the vault, admiring the architecture, as well as the artifacts, when I found myself walking backwards into the stand that held the Casket of Ancient Winters atop it. Loki happened to be in perfect range to step in and catch it as I knocked it off its pedestal, at the cost of revealing his birth form.

Amidst the chaos his panic created, he didn’t notice me watching the way his skin changed, or admiring the raised marks that accompanied its cerulean hue. I knew Loki was born on Jotunheim–and I knew of all the trials and tribulations this fact created throughout his childhood–but I’d never even heard Loki so much as mention the possibility of having another form connected to his Jotun roots. This was new to me. He replaced the Casket and rushed out of the vault before I could even form the words to tell him how beautiful he looked. How odd…

Since that day, I was determined to see him change again. It was like an obsession to me, the way it was constantly on my mind. I had to see Loki’s Jotun form again. I just had to. Now that I’d seen it once, I knew there was a part of him that I wasn’t experiencing all this time. I felt that I was missing out on sharing something important with my lover, and that didn’t sit well with me.

There were times I tried to hint at it subtly, only to get confused and alarmed looks from him in return. I should have expected him to catch on. Nothing flies over the head of the God of Mischief. There wasn’t any point to beating around the bush anymore. I decided to finally outright ask him to change forms, and this was the exact reaction I feared.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” I asserted. “Nothing about you is monstrous. Nothing. Do you honestly think that I could love a monster?” Before he even had the chance to sarcastically respond to my rhetorical question, I beat him to it. “No, because I don’t.” I reached over and grabbed his hands in mine. “I love you, and I want to experience every part of you. Every single one. Because, I want to be able to love every single part of you.”

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he began to consider the idea. “I don’t believe you understand the true nature of my birth form.”

“Then show me.” I insisted. “Teach me everything I don’t know about you. Please… I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me.”

“You will regret this, love.” With a defeated sigh, Loki conceded.

He made sure to remove my hands from his before the familiar green flash of his seidr marked his transformation. My breath hitched at the sight of all the changes to his appearance.

His skin turned an icy blue, and his face sported markings in the form of raised lines. His eyes, formerly a similar blue, now watched me intently with a ruby red, awaiting my response.

“Loki,” I breathed, my heart swelling with the joy of finally being able to see him like this again. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

He quickly looked away, ashamed. “As sweet as your lies sing to me, please don’t.”

“I would never lie to you.” I leaned in and slowly reached out my hand.

He flinched at first, but allowed me to cup his face, the chill of his skin cooling my hand. “How do you not hate this?”

“I’ve said, already,” I smirked at him. “I love you, and if this is you—which I know it is—then I love this, too.”

“But, I’m a monster…” Loki’s eyes began to glass over with tears, but none dared to spill over his cheeks.

“No, you’re not.” I leaned in until I could feel the chill radiating off of his face against my own. “You were only told that for far too long.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known.” He sadly confessed.

My heart shattered for him. It wasn’t fair that he had to face horrible treatment just because of where he came from. Growing up, he was constantly dehumanized by his own father. Politics didn’t exactly allow Asgardians to empathize with Jotuns. Loki didn’t have a clue as to why he was treated so poorly his whole life until his adult years. No wonder he hid himself for so long. He didn’t deserve to live like that. Not at all. I was determined to make sure he would never experience that kind of pain again.

“That’s awful.” I frowned. “I promise you that I’ll make you feel loved, no matter what you look like.” I leaned in and pecked the tip of his nose. “I guarantee it.”

I brought my other hand up to cup the other side of his face before pulling him into a kiss. I felt him tense up for a moment, but a sudden chill on my back accompanied the motion of him wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him.

When he deepened the kiss, it was colder than I expected it to be. Every point of contact I had with him sent a chill into my body, but I wasn’t cold. It was a comfortable chill. It was authentically Loki, and I wanted to explore this as far as I could go.

He pulled me onto him in a straddling position, our bodies crashing together as my hands wandered along the leather covering his back. I wanted to feel all of him. Since he swapped forms, it was like I fell in love all over again, and I was once again kissing him for the first time.

I was ravenous, wanting to touch as much of Loki as I could get my hands on, but I was also careful, fearing what could make him uncomfortable. My worries were put to rest when I felt a light twitch underneath me, and my own ache to have him began to build within me.

As we pulled apart, I left my hands cupped around his face, slowly tracing his markings with my thumbs. He’s just so beautiful~

“My desire for you could drive me to madness, darling.” He breathed, a smile ghosting his lips. “I do hope you’re aware.”

“I am.” I softly giggled.

“That being said, I have to have you, my dear.” His voice deepened to a growl. “Just give me a moment to return to my usual appearance.”

“Wait!” I interjected. “Why can’t I take you like this?”

“Are you off your rocker?!” Loki fired back, terror creeping back into his eyes.

“Maybe I am,” I retorted, “But I know that I want you like this, and you can’t change my mind on that.”

He just stared at me in utter shock, unmoving and unspeaking.

As the silence hung between us, an idea slowly crept into my mind. “There’s actually something I’d like to try, if you don’t mind.”

Loki let out a deep sigh, the shock in his expression lessening.“If you’re absolutely sure you want this, then I’ll be at your mercy. But, the moment something happens to you-”

“It won’t.” I cut in. “Because I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Loki frowned in disbelief, muttering, “Your optimism is dangerous.”

I stood up off of the bed, beckoning for him to follow me. “First, I want to see all of you. Would you mind stripping?”

“As you wish.” Loki lowered his head, his seidr removing his clothes with a flash.

I let out a soft gasp out of awe at the view. The icy hue continued from his head to his toes, as did the raised markings in his skin. They decorated his shoulders, chest, legs, and even his-

I felt arousal begin to pool between my thighs at the sight of his ornate length. “Loki…”

He looked back up at me, clearly anxious for my response. “Is this what you wanted?”

I quickly approached him and cupped his face in my hands, kissing him again. “It’s everything and more.” Loki’s cheeks blushed a light purple as I took him by the hand and led him across the bedroom to stand in front of a full-length mirror. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you with everything I have, just as I’ve always done.” He responded, and I just knew he was being genuine. I could almost feel it emanating from his words.

“Kneel, my love.” I softly commanded.

Loki knelt in front me, exactly where I placed him. I smiled warmly down at him, stroking his cheek before moving to sit right behind him, looking over his shoulder at the mirror.

I looked over his reflection, my eyes lingering at how he instinctively spread his thighs as he sat on his heels, allowing his semi-erect cock to hang in the middle of the sinful display. He was almost ready, and fully accessible to me. I felt my ache for him thrumming between my thighs, but I quickly refocused on my mission when I noticed that he refused to meet his reflection’s gaze, instead looking away from me and the mirror entirely.

“Look, Loki.” I lightly coaxed his face back towards the mirror by his chin. “Look at how beautiful you really are.” I dropped my other hand near his inner thigh. “May I?”

“Please,” I could see eagerness flash in his eyes as he glanced at my reflection before looking back at his own.

I began to lightly rub along his thigh, my heart fluttering at his resulting shiver. “I want you to see how perfect you are as you’re overcome with pleasure.” His eyes fluttered closed as he shivered again, and I paused my motions. “Watch.” I reminded him.

His eyes flew open at my command. “Yes, of course.”

“Yes, what?” I felt a proud smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

“Yes, mistress.” He corrected himself.

“There’s my sweet prince.” I sighed my praise as I resumed my motion on his thigh, noticing the twitch of his cock at my words. I began kissing him messily along his neck as my hand continued to tease him. When I brought my free hand up to trace the marks on his chest, I noticed the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

“M- Mistress, please…” He let out a low moan. “Please, I need more…” A bead of precum gathered at the tip of his fully grown erection, which now began to shine with a deep blush of purple, similar to that of his cheeks.

I moved from his neck to whisper in his ear, “If you want it, then you’ll have it.” I stroked his face with my free hand. “A work of art like you deserves to be worshiped and praised.” I lightly nipped his ear. “And I’ve been blessed with the privilege to make sure that you are. Now, sit tight, my prince.”

I rose to my feet and moved, swift as the wind, to our dresser for lubricant to cover my hand with before returning to my original place with Loki in front of the mirror. “Tonight, I plan on fucking you with my hand, leaving your whole body on display for the both of us. I want you to see that you are no monster. You’re a masterpiece, and deserve to be treated as such.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze with my free hand. “If you wish to stop at any time, you can always use our safe word. You remember it, don’t you?”

“I do.” His words were just above a whisper.

“Very good.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Then let’s begin.” I started to slowly stroke his cock with my lubricated hand, earning another shudder, accompanied by a contented sigh, from him. “I just have one rule for you…” Loki turned his head to look at me with curiosity before I softly turned it back to the mirror with my free hand. “You have to watch the whole time.”

“Ah- Mmm…” He let out a clipped moan before responding. “Yes, mistress.”

“Very good.” I slowly stroked all the way from the base of his cock to the tip before swirling my thumb in small circles on the head and stroking back to the base. Each time I teased the head, a small growl emanated from the back of his throat, only to crescendo into another moan when I stroked back down to the base.

I felt each of his markings against my hand with every stroke, and I wondered for a moment how they would feel against my inner walls. I felt arousal thrumming between my thighs again. Focus, damnit!

But, focusing was difficult. No matter how I looked at Loki, my eyes always returned to his elaborately decorated cock. It was as if I walked into an opulent dining room, only to end up staring at the shiny centerpiece all throughout dinner. It was the center of attention in an already artistic scene. I struggled to find the perfect words to convey these thoughts, so I kept my praise simple.

“You have such a pretty cock~” My words were a sultry whisper against his skin, accompanied by the kisses that I peppered along his jaw. “I can’t wait to pleasure it in every way I know how. Would you like that, my prince?”

“Y- Mmm… Yes, mistress.” Loki struggled to respond between moans.

“I would like that, too.” I peeked up at the mirror to make sure that he was still looking. He was. How obedient~

Not only was I filled with the pride of seeing him willing to do as he was told, but I also noticed the way his chest moved with each heavy breath he took, which it typically did when I dominated him. His breathing would grow labored as I teased him before he finally found the words—or word fragments—to beg me for more.

His hair also didn’t change. It tumbled down his angular face in its usual raven locks, the smallest of curls lying slick against his forehead as a sheen of sweat glued them there.

And just under it were his eyes. Though they shone a bright red, his pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving a sliver of red around the edges. Save for their usual blue color, his eyes looked exactly the same as they usually did. It was comforting to see that even though he changed, there were familiar parts of him to remind me that he was still my Loki.

Although, change is nice~ I thought as I allowed my free hand to roam his chest again, tracing the markings until I approached his hips. I reached down and began to fondle his balls, still keeping pace on his cock with my lubricated hand. His eyes were lidded as he quickly neared an ecstasy-born stupor. He used one of his hands to steady himself on the ground as the other wound into his hair, ruffling it with each pass he made with his fingers.

“Yes, I would love to please you.” I continued my earlier thought. “To worship you like the god you are. You deserve that. You deserve to have someone willing to offer you their service. Even as your mistress, I wish to satisfy you.” I sped up the pace of my hand on his cock, and a whimper escaped his throat. “You look so regal, my love. Do you see it? Do you see how, even as you sit bare in front of me, you still look elegant enough to sit upon the Asgardian throne?”

“N- no, mistress…” Loki’s voice cracked as he let out another moan.

“Hm. That’s unfortunate.” I mused. “Maybe someday I should suck you off as you’re seated upon it. I’m sure that would help you see what I see.”

Loki bucked his hips into my hand. “M- mistress…” His voice curled into a light sound that almost resembled a whimper. “Feels good… Feels so- Mmm… good…”

“It’s about time you felt something other than pain while showing this part of who you are.” I trailed kissed back up his neck to his ear before whispering, “You’re still watching?” I glanced at the mirror to see him still looking, just as I’d asked him to. “That’s my sweet prince. I’m so glad you’re heeding my directions tonight. This is all for you, after all.”

“Yes, mistress.” Loki gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure before they shot back open as he remembered my command. “M- Mistress…?”

“Yes, my love?” I felt a small surge of concern rush through me. “Is something wrong?”

The soft whine he let out clued me in to what was happening before he even responded. “I- I’m close… Mmm- May I cum? …Please?” His last plea was no more than a breathy whisper. He needed this. Desperately. And who would I be to deprive him of it?

“Cum for me, my prince.” I purred. “You’ve been so good tonight. You deserve to. Come on, show me how your pretty cock looks when it’s dripping with cum.”

“Ohhh, mistress… Ah-” Loki practically screamed my name as his eyes rolled back, ropes of cum painting his thigh in a milky white.

I helped him ride out his high as his cock twitched in my hand, spilling his seed. Every time I thought he’d finished, he’d release what seemed to be another load with a roaring moan and a full-body shiver. I just kept stroking his cock while softly kissing along his neck and praising him until the last of it slowly dripped out over my fingers and he was left panting.

“That’s it, my prince.” I sighed against his neck. “You were so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” I finally let go of his cock and brought my hand to my mouth to slowly lick the cum off of my fingers. “Mmm, and you taste so good~”

“Mmm, darling,” Loki’s voice wavered as he took on a cautionary tone. “If you carry on like that, I just might grow hard again.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to take care of you again.” I playfully walked my now clean fingers up his shoulder. “And again… and again… and again…”

“I like the sound of that.” He chuckled softly as our eyes moved back to the mirror in front of us.

I looked him over again, my eyes lingering over each part of him, almost as if my brain could take a snapshot his beauty. His hair was thoroughly ruffled, sweat shone on each curve of his skin, and his cock hung limply between his thighs once again, having spent its cum onto one of them. I watched as it began to slide down his thigh, following the raised markings before nearing the floor.

“You truly admire this, don’t you?” Loki’s question interrupted my thoughts.

“I do.” I answered without hesitation. “And I won’t be satisfied until you do, too.”

“You stubborn woman.” Loki lightly chuckled. “I will say, if this is the treatment my Jotun form entitles me to, then maybe it’s a sight I could get used to.”

I couldn’t keep back the cheesy grin my mouth curved into. “I’ll take it.” I crawled around him to sit between him and the mirror, holding my hands out to him.

He smirked and took my hands in his. “I feel compelled to thank you.”

I cocked my head in curiosity. “Hm? What for?”

He leaned closer to me, and I leaned in to meet him in the middle, electricity crackling in the air between us. “For loving the ugliest parts of me, and cherishing the things that I’ve only ever frowned upon.”

“Oh, Loki,” I squeezed his hand. “You take yourself too seriously. As soon as you stop criticizing yourself, I know you’ll lead a happier life.” I brought the same hand up to my lips to brush a soft kiss onto it. “Now, come on. You must be tired. Let me clean you up, and then we can cuddle for the rest of the night.”

“Of course.” Loki’s eyes conveyed a sweet sense of innocence… It was too sweet. He must have had other plans.

My suspicions were confirmed when he leaned in towards my ear and whispered. “Though, I believe I still have some dues to pay before we carry on with our night. Don’t you?”

I felt my ache for him quickly returning all at once. “Oh, you-”

Before I could finish my teasing remark, Loki had me trapped in another kiss.

[recareels]

feels like forever, even if forever’s tonight

characters: thoma, kamisato ayato

genre: smut

notes: aaaaah my first (finished) genshin piece!!! i had such a blast writing this hehehe i just love this dynamic so! much! reader is female, and this is mostly written from thoma’s point of view. in my mind, this is absolutely a crime family AU, but you’re welcome to think of it in terms of canon if you’d like! please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: mine by bazzi | this piece was originally posted on my main blog.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dubcon, manipulation/coercion, daddy kink, toxic relationships, size kink/size difference, belly bulge, cuckolding kinda (ayato watches thoma fuck his girlfriend), praise, reader is quite flexible, a hint of dumbification/degradation, rough sex, overstimulation + mentioned orgasm denial as punishment, dacryphilia, power play/power dynamics, thoma is a sub-leaning switch in this, interchangeable use of the words my lord/master

words: 5.7k

synopsis:

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

The walls of the Kamisato Estate are intentionally thick, tasked with concealing centuries of secrets within their wooden embrace. Many important words—deals, negotiations, threats—are spoken throughout these halls, many promises made within these rooms, and such precious, confidential sentiments must be protected at all costs.

So, of course, when Thoma hears the distinct murmuring of that low baritone vibrating through the hardwood floor from below Ayato’s home office, he thinks nothing of it. This isn’t out of the ordinary—Ayato often works late, after all, and it isn’t uncommon for him to be busy sifting through documents and conducting phone calls long after Thoma has turned in for the night.  

It’s common courtesy for Thoma to let his superiors know when he’s done for the day, and common respect to bid them a good night before he finally retreats back to his own quarters, the action so ingrained in his daily routine it’s become almost instinctual at this point.

Those dense manilla walls keep Ayato’s words muffled and unintelligible, even as Thoma nears the room they’re being spoken from, and he thinks nothing of sliding that heavy wooden door open just enough for his slim body to slip through the crack, as he’s done a million times before.

But the scene he’s met tonight with is unlike anything he’s ever stumbled upon, tongue gone heavy and sluggish in his mouth, saliva gathering in suffocating pools at the back of his throat, so much so that it gurgles with his sharp gasp of surprise and he chokes, coughing around the stinging breath tangled in threads of spit.

Various documents and expensive paperweights litter the floor, evidently knocked to the ground by your writhing limbs, naked body sprawled across the surface of Ayato’s long, low desk, one hand curled around the sharp edge of the dark mahogany wood, the other fisted in Ayato’s expensive dress shirt.

Kneeling between your spread legs, a fully clothed Ayato leans over your body, murmuring out a condescending croon as one strong hand catches the trembling ankle hitched on his shoulder, mindlessly readjusting it.

“Poor thing,” he sighs out with a touch of indifference embedded in his tone. “You’ve completely lost control of your body, haven’t you?”

You’re babbling out a string of unintelligible words, letters welded together with spit on your tongue, head nodding in slow, sluggish, stupid movements.

“Well, that’s okay,” Ayato coos, voice silk and syrup. “You don’t need to do anything when Daddy’s here do to it for you, do you?”

You aren’t afforded a moment to answer, though, the hand buried between your thighs twisting, pumping, curling, two—or three, Thoma can’t really tell from this angle—fingers deep in your glistening cunt, motions yanking a cracked whine from your throat.

“You don’t need to talk,” he grunts in time with the thrusting of his hand. “You don’t need to move,” another grunt, another thrust. “You don’t even need to think at all, isn’t that right, princess?”

You don’t answer, and Thoma isn’t sure if it’s because you’re not supposed to, or if it’s because you can’t, fragmented mewls being torn to shreds by hitched little gasps.

“Thus,” Ayato continues, calmly, coldly, serenely, as if he is completely unfazed by the current situation. “Next time, when Daddy tells you to not talk to a client and to stay put during his meeting, you will obey, correct?”

A moan vaguely reminiscent of an affirmation falls from your lips, head nodding in quicker motions now, short and sharp.

Thoma should leave. This isn’t right, staying to watch something so intimate, hiding in the shadows like a fucking pervert; this is—this is morally reprehensible, this is disgusting, this is a very private matter he should’ve never been privy to.

Yes, Thoma should most definitely leave. Anyone with common sense, with half a mind, with any sort of respect for their superiors at all, would’ve already left.

And yet, his heavy legs won’t fucking move, feet filled with concrete and weighted to the floor, hard cock throbbing, begging, him to stay just a little longer.

But then your misty eyes, half-lidded and unfocused and lolling around in your head like a pair of loosely secured marbles, graze over Thoma’s shrouded figure, and your gaze snaps to his face, shock and terror eradicating that drowsy, dopey haze in an instant.

“Daddy—”

“Hmm?” Ayato hums, the curling of his fingers turned vicious. “Didn’t Daddy just tell you that you don’t need to speak?”

“No—” you gasp, the word trembling, wide eyes stuck to Thoma’s face.

“No?” he seems surprised, a touch of amusement in his tone, and Thoma can practically hear him raising an eyebrow—a question, a challenge. “You’re telling Daddy no, after all of that punishment you just endured?”

“Wa-Wait, Da—”

“Oh,” he clicks his tongue, as if it’s such a pity, and Thoma doesn’t need to see his expression to know his forehead’s crinkling and mouth’s tugging downward, features saturated with mocking disappointment. “And you were doing so well.”

“I just—”

“I was going to allow you to cum, too,” he continues in that solemn tone, mourning your lost orgasm that Thoma’s sure you worked so hard to achieve. “Shame.”

“Daddy!” you squeal, the honorific practically fucked out of you by Ayato’s fingers, face contorting as you force the second name from your mouth. “Thoma!”

And, for a moment, everything stops, your whines gone silent, Ayato’s voracious fingers halting their ministrations. Thoma’s blood turns to sharp ice in his veins, his heart freezing in his chest, his breath gone frigid in his lungs.

“Oh,” Ayato says after a moment of realization, following your watery gaze over his shoulder and staring up at his subordinate. “Thoma, hello.”

Shuffling a little on his knees, Ayato turns to face Thoma fully, a pleasant little smile plastered across his face.  

“I—I—” Thoma begins, head shaking in jerky, rigid movements, body thawing enough for him to start backing up, spine whacking painfully against the corner of the wall. “I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry, my lord—This was—I really just—” his lungs shrivel in his chest as he runs out of air, inhaling harshly to revive them only to choke on his own breath as his eyes involuntarily scan his master’s body, focusing on the shimmering patch of slick staining his trousers, massive cock outlined by the wet fabric clinging to it as it strains against the material.

You’ve soaked him all the way through.

The whimper that sounds at the back of Thoma’s throat as he arrives at such a realization is downright mortifying—automatic, animalistic, pathetic—and he presses his lips together firmly in a futile attempt to silence it.

“Please, relax,” Ayato instructs, calm voice drawing Thoma’s attention back to his face. “You are not in trouble, Thoma,”

And although his voice is ridden with concern, Thoma can see it, that special little twinkle glittering in those periwinkle eyes, the one Thoma’s witnessed a million times before during deals and threats and negotiations, the one Ayato gets just before he strikes.

“I’m so sorry,” Thoma says again, the apology nothing more than a rush of breath from his mouth, elbows bumping against the wall as he raises his hands in surrender. “I was only—”

“Would you like to stay a while?”

Thoma stops.

Stay?

His cock twitches eagerly in his trousers at the prospect, his throat going dry, gummy walls sticking together as he attempts to swallow.

“Uh—Wh-What?”

“You’re welcome to continue watching, if you’d like to,” Ayato continues without a hitch, pleasant and cordial.

“I—” Yes. Yes, he would very much like to. “No, I really should be going. I’m sorry, my lord, I really shouldn’t have stayed—that was so gross of me—please forgive me for such disrespect, I’ll take my leave now—”

“Nonsense,” Ayato dismisses, eyes traveling down Thoma’s quivering body, halting their trajectory at his erection and pausing for a moment before trailing back up. “You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like to. And,” violet eyes flick down to his crotch again, a smug smirk molding to Ayato’s lips. “It seems like you’d like to.”

Of course he’d like to, Thoma’s features crinkle a little in self-deprecating confusion. Who wouldn’t like to?

From behind Ayato’s broad shoulder, you peak out, arms wrapped loosely around your torso, shoulders curved inward in a poor imitation of a shield. You look unsure—unsettled, almost—and Thoma feels that thick, tarry guilt unfurl in the pit of his stomach, spreading to engulf his surrounding organs in its sticky, suffocating embrace, snuffing out his spark of hope in an instant.

What a fucking sicko he is for even considering it, for even deriving the smallest amount of perverse pleasure from such voyeuristic endeavours, for memorizing your expressions and sounds, burning them into the tissues of his brain for later use.

He should’ve never invaded on something so personal, so precious, in the first place.

“I’m not sure she’d like me to.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out as utterly disappointed as it does, whole face crumpling with bitter embarrassment. Eyes scrunched shut tightly, he attempts to clarify himself.

“I just mean—I don’t want to upset—offend—her any further,”

“There are no such worries to be had,” Ayato reassures lightly as he turns back to look at you, a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, long fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, the bow of your lips. “Right, sweetheart? You don’t mind if Thoma stays to watch, do you? Wouldn’t you like to show him how pretty you look when you cum on Daddy’s cock?”

Another one of those sinful whimpers claws at the back of Thoma’s tongue, but your eyes have gone glassy, glittery, glazed over with sheer want, lips parting a little as you nod.

“See?” Ayato says, but his eyes do not stray from yours, his head quirking slightly, voice gone soft. “She doesn’t mind one bit.”

Microscopic shards of ice prick through his skin, and Thoma shivers.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, wincing with the words.

“Absolutely positive,” Ayato responds with an amicable smile, finally moving to face him again. “But the choice is yours, Thoma.”

Swallowing thickly, Thoma’s eyes shift from Ayato’s face to yours, and then back again, tongue running along this top teeth and sucking as he contemplates. He wants to, of course he wants to, god does he ever want to, but—

“Stay,” you offer quietly, chin tucked cutely to your chest, gazing at him through your lashes. “Please, stay.”

And so, he does.

There’s something so taboo about it all, something so wrong, so bad about watching his boss fuck his most precious treasure, cinders of desire flickering in Thoma’s tummy as he settles down on the floor only a few feet away from your tangled bodies, legs tucked beneath him.

The hunger in Ayato’s eyes is fierce enough to swallow you whole, pupils blown and insatiable as they glide over your body, soaking up every expression, sucking down every sound, his face a heady blend of admiration and ardor.

But Thoma can’t blame him; you look breathtakingly beautiful. Skin sweat-drenched and sparkling, lips bitten raw and puffy, tiny crystal teardrops still clinging stubbornly to your clumped lashes, the devotion in your stare so strong it’s nearly crushing. Paired with the symphony of your soft mewls and sweet whimpers, you’re a living, breathing masterpiece all on your own.

He isn’t sure what, exactly, he was expecting Ayato’s style of fucking to consist of, but the healthy mix of slow, hard, sensual thrusts—filled with murmured out teases and lots of biting, licking, kissing—followed by bouts of fast, rough pistons of his hips—filled with sharp, mocking sentiments and cruel little laughs, all still managing to sound elegant in Ayato’s dignified lilt despite their callous nature—is really fucking hot.

Blunt nails carve crescents into his flesh as his fists clench tighter, thin skin stretched taut over his knuckles.

His cock is aching, but he’s unsure if he’s allowed to touch it. Would rubbing the heal of his palm against it be considered rude, or would Ayato see it as silly constraint? What if he took it out? Does he even want to take it out? Is it weird if he does? Is it weird if he doesn’t?

“Thoma,” his lord calls out in a singsong scold, stilling his hips and snapping Thoma from his thread of thoughts. “I can hear you thinking.”

“Sorry, my lord,” he responds immediately, hands uncurling and palms laid flat against his tensed thighs. “I just, uh, I...I don’t really know what to do.”

Heat scalds his cheeks at the mumbled confession, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes against the mirth his humiliation has painted across his boss’s face.

“You can do whatever you’d like,” Ayato responds, as if it’s that easy, that obvious. Amethyst eyes seach his face, and Thoma forces his spine to straighten, avoiding the temptation to hunch in on himself in a futile attempt to protect himself from his lord’s vying, prying gaze.

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

“My,” Ayato finally says. “I’ve hardly begun, yet you’re so hard you’re leaking through your pants. It’s...incredible.”

Thoma’s eyebrows knit in confusion, head shaking a little to indicate that he doesn’t understand. Incredible? It’s ignominious, is what it is.

But Ayato’s still observing him with that inquisitive gaze, eyes darting to your heaving body for a moment, still impaled by his cock and trying your best to keep from wiggling impatiently, before returning to Thoma’s face.

“Thoma,” he begins conversationally, and Thoma’s heart begins to pound, ribs rattling with the force. “Would you like a turn? I think it’s awfully selfish of me to keep her all to myself tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m sorry?” Thoma sputters as the question tangles on his tongue, eyes blinking rapidly with incredulity, head nudged forward as if he’s sure he’s just misheard his lord.

“I’m asking if you’d like to fuck her,” Ayato chuckles—a patronizing little sound that plays at the back of his throat, as if Thoma’s uncertainty is so cute—and Thoma flinches. It’s always so jarring to hear such a vile curse fall from the lips of such an elegant man.

“I—No, no, my lord, I could never, she—she’s yours, and—”

“You are, by all accounts, our guest this evening. I have invited you to stay, and I think it’d be rude of me not to offer you a turn,” he explains. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable with it,” Ayato adds at Thoma’s hesitance. “I am merely extending the invitation, should you wish to take it. But if you are content with just watching, that is perfectly fine, too.”

“I...Want to,” he slowly exhales the confession from his mouth after a stretch of ringing silence, eyes finding yours. “But...I—Is it alright?”

Mutely, you look towards your Daddy, something akin to distress saturating your features. Ayato frowns, shaking his head a little, and your lips mimic his own, eyebrows raising with incentive.

“Show her your cock,” Ayato demands after a moment of unspoken conversation.

The order startles Thoma, and he coughs around his response. “I, um—”

“Go on,” Ayato urges gently, violet eyes kind and trusting, disarming, that terrifying twinkle Ayato had never dared to turn on Thoma before tonight now replaced with that comforting familiarity his direct commands bring. “Show her your cock, and I promise you, she’ll say yes.”

It’s an odd request, and Thoma doesn’t fully understand it’s implications, but he obeys anyway.

Nodding to himself, Thoma shuffles closer to you, trembling hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, gracelessly shoving at it until it yields, allowing his cock to spring free.

It glistens in the dim glow of the lamplight, head smeared with precum and steadily drooling out pearlets, shaft pretty and pink and oh-so-perfect. You murmur something, soft and awe-stricken, and Thoma’s gaze snaps to your face.

“Hmm?”

“I said it’s really pretty,” you repeat, seemingly captivated, fingers flexing, as if you wish to touch. “It’s almost as pretty as Daddy’s.”

“Oh! Uh,” heat crawls up the back of his neck and he resists the urge to scratch at it, forcing his eyes to stay trained on your profile. “Thanks,”

“You like it, baby?” Ayato coos, brushing back a few strands of sweat-soaked hair from your temple. “You want it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, gazing up at Ayato before shifting your stare to Thoma, head nodding in dreamy little movements. “Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” Thoma asks for what seems like the umpteenth time tonight, powerless to keep the question from leaving his mouth, urgently requiring that explicit confirmation that this is real, that this is happening.

“Yeah,” you stare up at him with shimmering eyes, tongue sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and speaking around it. “Please, can I have it?”

Thoma’s body is moving the moment the bashful request tumbles from your lips, body gracefully replacing Ayato’s—who resigns himself to sitting near your head—and hips finding a snug place between your spread thighs, his cock bobbing with enthusiasm.

“So polite, my darling,” Ayato murmurs, and while the timbre in his voice is mocking, his eyes are soft, the pads of his fingertips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

A quiet noise of contentment vibrates at the back of your throat, and you lean into your Daddy’s touch, gaze filled to the brim with adoration, begging for more of his sugary approval.

The moment feels too intimate, and Thoma averts his eyes. The head of his cock bumps against your cute little hole a second later, selfishly drawing your attention back to him, and you whine a little, hips twitching downward in desperation.

“She hasn’t been allowed to cum on a cock in a while,” Ayato explains, still gazing at you with melted affection in his eyes, palm stroking your damp forehead. “I’m quite sure she’s exceptionally excited to have you inside her,”

For a moment, such a thought instils in Thoma a bold confidence, sparks of it zipping up his spine, straightening each vertebra as they pass.

But they fizzle just as fast as they ignited, leaving behind a special type of terror, an icy dread that seeps into his bones and submerges his brain.

What if he isn’t good enough?

While his cock is considerably thick—possibly slightly thicker than what you’re used to—he definitely isn’t as big as Ayato. Will he even be able to satisfy you at all, or will he only leave you with the sourness of disappointment and regret? Is he merely here to make an utter fool of himself by cumming so hard, so fast it’s piteous? It’s been an embarrassingly long time since the last time he’s had sex, what if—

“Thoma? What are you waiting for?”

Ayato’s voice yanks him from the snare of his own thoughts once again, his eyes flashing to his superior, worry written into the creases of his forehead. Frowning, Ayato blinks twice, imploring him to speak what’s currently infecting his mind.

“What’s wrong?”

And, oh, it’s so fucking embarrassing to have to say it aloud, to admit to all of his timorous thoughts of being wholly inadequate, eyes downcast as he mumbles out his concerns.

Unsurprisingly, Ayato laughs—something that isn’t quite nice, but isn’t quite mean, either, like candied condescension—and leans forward to clap a reassuring hand on Thoma’s shoulder.

“That is entirely okay,” he says, and Thoma’s brow furrows. “She doesn’t have to cum. You can just use her, if you’d like; she’d be happy with that, too,” he pauses, violet eyes flitting to your own and eliciting an obedient nod, as if to prove his point. “And then I’ll take care of the rest. Just enjoy yourself, Thoma.”

”But...But I—” Thoma’s nose wrinkles in distaste, and Ayato’s frown deepens. Reaching out, he takes the younger man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up to face him and holding it firmly in place.

Outwardly, Ayato appears as calm as the smooth, cool surface of an ice-glazed lake, but Thoma knows better. Thoma can see the impatience, the irritation, beginning to simmer just beneath that layer of polished frost; the blazing periwinkle that demands Thoma spit it out already, the infinitesimal flexing of his jaw, methodically pulsing in time with his even breaths; one, two, three, tense, hold, relax, one, two, three.

Clearing his throat, Thoma continues, ignoring the slight tremor sewn into his voice. “But I want to satisfy her, my lord.”

It’s hard not to grimace as the confession hangs thickly in the air between them, Ayato’s eyes clouding over with something undecipherable, something Thoma’s never experienced before. The look makes his skin crawl, little spikes of sweat erupting from his pores as he’s forced to hold his superior’s scalding gaze.

“Alright,” Ayato says after a moment of consideration, finally releasing Thoma’s chin. “I’ll show you how, briefly, and then we can get on with this. Sound reasonable?”

Thoma’s head is nodding, but Ayato doesn’t wait for an answer, moving towards the slighter man and taking Thoma’s hand between his large one, palm molding to the back as he pushes two of Thoma’s fingers down.

“It doesn’t take much,” Ayato’s saying, voice turned professional as he wraps his own fingers over Thoma’s folded ones, bringing their mess of hands to your fluttering cunt and beginning to insert them.

“Daddy!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut as your delicate flesh yields to the four fingers.

Ignoring you, Ayato continues in the same matter-of-fact lilt. “Her favourite spot is right here,” he curls his fingers, forcing Thoma’s to curl in conjunction, pressing their knuckles into a rough, swollen patch of tissue.

A loud, sharp cry rips itself from your chest, eyes springing open only to fall shut again as Ayato massages the spot, your hips instinctually grinding downward, desperate for more.

“If you can, try to rub your cock against it, like this,” Ayato folds their fingers halfway, forcing them to dig into your silky walls and move in long, slow strokes, each pass over that spot sending a borderline violent shudder rippling through your body.

“It’s very sensitive.” Ayato nudges the spot once more—a demonstration of sorts—before gently removing their fingers. “I trust that now that you know it’s location, you’ll have no trouble angling your hips to ensure your cockhead hits it, yes?”

If he doesn’t cum in the first ten seconds, maybe.

He has several additional questions—what type of thrusts do you enjoy most? Is there a particular pace you like the best?—but Ayato is done teaching.

You seem to be getting restless, too, Thoma’s name falling from your lips in the sweetest little whimpers. “Thoma, Thoma, please, give me your cock, please,”

You sound so fucking needy, almost bordering on bratty as you reach for him, hips wiggling, thighs straining as they spread wider. Cavernous pupils shine in the low light, eyes glazed over with sugared desire and half-lidded with lust.

And finally, finally, Thoma snaps.

His body’s moving before he’s even made the conscious decision to, primal instinct surging through his blood, overwhelming his body and overriding his mind, and he growls, using his sharp hips to keep your thighs spread wide.

It’s all automatic impulse now, rational thought drowned by animalistic urges and sheer desire, that burning need he had been so desperately attempting to suppress, to control, finally erupting, flames of it burning through his veins, incinerating all previous trepidation.

And then he’s shoving his cock into you, moaning at the way your flesh yields to him, submits to him, opens up for him, stretching and splitting to accommodate his girth.

Just one swift, sharp thrust is all it takes to have him buried to the hilt, cockhead pressed snugly against your sensitive cervix. His hips shove forward further, knocking a gasp from your throat, cockhead grinding in slow, hard circles against the mound of tissue.

“Th-Thoma!” you nearly wheeze, little fingers tangling in the cotton of his t-shirt, nails piercing through the thin material and leaving fine, ragged lines of red in the muscles of his back. “Hurts!”

“Oh, you can take it,” Ayato chastises lightly, speaking over the deep growl rumbling in Thoma’s chest. It’s incredible, how calm his lord sounds, how entirely unaffected he seems to be, tone kept conversational, as if none of this matters in the slightest.

But Thoma’s barely listening; Thoma barely cares at this point, ears buzzing and vision blurred by pure lust, this insatiable craving he had tried so hard to deny, to erase, to restrain, so fierce it has dulled all of his senses to anything other than you.

Leaning back slightly, he hooks a hand under each of your knees and pushes up, up, up until your knees nudge your shoulders, legs folded up on either side of your body.

“Be a—Be a good girl and hold yourself open for me, yeah?”

It’s supposed to be an instruction, a demand, but it comes out whiny and full of yearning, voice already wrecked and mangled in his throat. If he were in his right mind, he’d be horrified by how eager, how utterly desperate he sounds. Yet he doesn’t pay it any mind at all, the breathy plead that practically dribbled from his lips like dollops of thick honey, too focused on fucking you for it to be of any importance.

With a singular, shaky exhale, his hips draw back, slow and steady, the smooth sculpted muscles in his arms flexing with the strain as he hovers above you, stilling for just a moment before he’s fucking back into you, his thrust harsh enough to send your entire body skidding against the wood beneath you, setting a ruthless pace from the start.

Each pound of his hips is more brutal than the last, each ramming fractured sobs and pitched mewls of his name from your chest, each forceful enough to shove Ayato’s heavy desk a few inches forward with every plunge into you, mahogany wood scraping against the floorboards.

It must be hurtful for you, each slam of his cockhead against your cervix, each drag of his shaft against that spot, your features twisted in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure; eyebrows scrunched and eyes squeezed shut, mouth lolling open and tongue flopping about, lips slicked sheen with spit, drool oozing from the corners of your mouth to drip in viscous beads along your jaw.

It’s fucking beautiful, the most immaculate piece of art Thoma has ever witnessed, experienced, had a hand in creating.

“You like that, huh?” he’s nearly spitting at you, words sandwiched between ragged pants. “It’s good?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re chanting, head nodding in quick little motions as your eyes drift back, eyelashes fluttering prettily.

“Tell me,” he keens, voice shattered by his razored breaths. “Tell me how much you like my cock,”

And although his tone borders on begging, his eyes are sharp and blazing with ardor, his chest heaving with exertion, strands of golden hair saturated in sweat and clinging to his forehead, his temples, his neck.  

“Your cock is so good, Thoma,” you nearly wail. “I love it—I-I love it s’much!”

A groan vibrates in his chest, his eyes shutting tightly before springing open again, shuddering out a breathy little, “Yeah?” in time with the next drive forward of his hips.

“Uh—Uh-huh, so big, fills me up so good, can feel you in my tummy, Thoma,”

The resulting whine that catches in his throat, pitched high and desperate, is absolutely pathetic—though you don’t seem to think so, cute little cunt pulsing around his cock in response.

“Lemme feel, baby—ah, fuck—lemme feel,”

A large hand splays itself on your gut, his hips never once faltering as he presses down, a loud cry falling from his lips as the tip of his cock nudges his palm through your flesh.

“God,” he breathes. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your dainty hand lays itself atop of his, soft palm pressing down harder, forcing him to feel the bulge of his cock buried inside of you again, a choked moan strangling itself in his throat as the arm supporting his weight begins to quiver.

He can tell that you’re getting close now, whole body beginning to tremble beneath his own, little fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you force yourself open wider for him.

Ayato can tell, too.

“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name drenched in saccharine condescension. “Are you going to show Thoma how very pretty you look, creaming all over his cock?”

You can barely speak, too fucked out to manage anything other than the stammered stream of Yes, Daddy’s and Can I, please Daddy?’s flowing steadily from your mouth.

Ayato gives you his murmured permission—a gentle Go ahead, princess—and then you’re complying, convulsing cunt gushing all over Thoma’s cock, a tangle of his name and your Daddy’s jumbled on your tongue, a mess of letters so intertwined that they’ve become one unintelligible word.

“Good girl,” Ayato breathes, and that’s the first time Thoma has heard him sound affected by anything all night.

Thoma’s thrusts are getting sloppy now, devolved into frantic and uneven jackhammering that gains more speed with each snap forward, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your veins, vibrations spiking with each pump of his hips.

He can feel his own orgasm simmering in the pit of his stomach, rising higher and higher with every weak throb of your over-sensitive cunt, growing hotter and hotter with every noise he manages to fuck out of you until it’s finally boiling over, up his throat and out his mouth and—

“Oh, oh god, oh, Aya—my lord, I—I’m gonna—Can I—Can I—” And, truthfully, Thoma isn’t sure whether he’s asking if he can cum, or if he can cum inside his master’s favourite plaything.

But he doesn’t have to decide; Ayato does that for him.

Humming in contemplation, amethyst eyes shift from Thoma to you, Ayato’s head tilting slightly. “Would you like his cum, princess?”

Your response is immediate, bleary eyes snapping to Ayato’s face, head nodding enthusiastically. “Oh gosh, Daddy, yes, yes, I want his cum, yes!”

“F-Fuck,” Thoma whimpers, hips stuttering with the shudder of his breath.

“You can cum inside, Thoma,” Ayato grants him permission, voice soft as a silk blanket that envelopes him, caressing his cheek as it drapes itself across his shoulders—a warm, familiar embrace of encouragement, of praise, of approval.

“Th-Thank you, my lord,”

“I want it, Thoma,” you’re whimpering beneath him, blinking up at him with filmy eyes, words drowning in muddled pools of spit collecting in the dips and crevices of your mouth. “I want it, I-I want it, give it to me,”

“Greedy girl,” Ayato scolds with a disapproving click of his tongue, demeanour changed in an instant. “Ask nicely,”

Turning your glassy gaze back on Thoma, you stare up at him like he’s some sort of fucking god, eyes glistening with potent want, an indescribable craving that manifests as pleads spilling from your mouth.

“Thoma, Thoma, please give me your cum, please, fill me up with it, stuff me full of it, I want it so bad, Thoma, pretty please!” you practically cough out, the sentiment fractured by hiccups and gurgled together at the back of your throat, words flowing in one continuous sob.

It’s so fucking hot, so fucking wrong, so fucking delicious, and the whine that claws it’s way past his lips and rips through his gasping breaths is nothing short of gorgeous, pitched high and cracked with pleasure, with desire.

“Give my princess what she wants, Thoma,” Ayato says, and although it’s phrased as a statement, it’s clearly an order, and Thoma’s good at following those.

Three more pistons of his hips and he’s obeying his master. It’s vicious, the shudder that tears through Thoma’s body as his cock throbs, filling you to the brim with scalding, thick cum, so much so that it’s begun to leak out of your cunt, smeared all over Thoma’s cock and your inner thighs, pearly glops of it drooling down your ass to collect in a puddle on Ayato’s desk.

Black darkens the edges of his vision, a pair of strong hands catching him just before he collapses on top of you, Ayato leaning Thoma against his chest, his cheek snug against the crook of his lord’s neck, exhaling uneven little pants of breath against his skin.

Everything feels hazy, like time has slowed, seconds dripping by as if they were hours, the gentle, repetitive rhythm of Ayato’s fingers through Thoma’s hair keeping him grounded in this reality.

“Come here, baby,” Ayato murmurs, holding his free arm out towards you and inviting you to crawl sluggishly towards him. You allow yourself to be wrapped up in your Daddy’s embrace, head finding purchase on Thoma’s damp chest, clinging to the both of them.

“You did so well,” Ayato whispers, punctuating his praise with chaste kisses to the crown of your head. “You both did so well, I’m so proud of you. You were both so good for me.”

And, well, all either of you ever want to be is good for him.

[nire-the-mithridatist]

Hello, Nire! I saw your reblog earlier and it made me reread. Thanks! Gosh, I miss them.

Picking a passage from this piece was /hard/. In the end, it's either The Mirror/Glass or The Wall, but I went with Mirror.

“I’m okay—it’s just… I’m really dead,” she said wonderingly. “You know, they say people never really get to see what they look like, because mirrors are reverse images and cameras distort and—what I’m saying is, have I always looked like that?”

“No,” he replied, low enough that if anyone walked in, they would assume that he was talking to the dead body. “You were alive.”

“I don’t feel dead, is the thing,” she said. “I can feel everything you’re feeling. When you walk, it feels like I’m walking. When you see things, I see them too. I mean, sure, it’s a little different—you should really get your eyes checked, by the way, I think you’re slightly myopic—and I can also sort of read your mind, but none of this feels like how I thought being dead would feel like.”

And then—

“Is this normal? I mean, you… you did this, right? I feel like this isn’t normal. Also, can you look away from my cadaver for a little bit? It’s disturbing.”

He obliged, turning his gaze ceiling-ward. His eyes watered in the face of the dry brightness of the neon lights, his throat a knot of fishbones. There were no words to quite explain what he was and what he had done; instead, he let himself think it, hurling his mind to the past—distant and otherwise—and allowed her to watch the memories unfurl, from the first time he’d eaten a soul to the moment he panicked and entombed her within him.

Eventually, she said, “I see,” and he wasn’t ready for the sheer relief brought by her matter-of-fact response. She added, after a while, “I don’t suppose you can… reverse it? Pour me back into my own body?”

A futile question, futilely asked. He didn’t bother with lies and platitudes. The knowledge was real in him: she was a shard of glass lodged in his flesh; pulling her out wasn’t going to make the mirror whole again, and he might even bleed to death from the wound. Now, there was only living with it, with her—only the pain of her fragmented life as he carried her around with him.

- i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

((THE soulmate & cohabitation fic EVER. But watch out.)) I adore this so very much and I adore you. 🧡

HELLOOOO

OKOKOK sorry this took a while but this fic is actually one of my biggest pride and joys, and definitely my favorite of all the fics I've written for Vincenzo (and I wrote... some. lmao). Anyway, the Wall is the scene that I had wanted to write from the beginning, it was probably the reason this fic existed at all. I can talk about that (and the media that inspired it in the first place) FOREVER.

But that's not the scene you asked about, hehehe, so I'll restrain myself.

The Mirror scene as you dubbed it is part of the story set-up; as far as fantasy stories go, this one is definitely very soft fantasy, but I needed to set some rules anyway. Like, the obvious question is, can he spit her soul back out into her body? Definitely not or we wouldn't have a story (or well. it would be a very different story) but Cha Young would ask that question, and the reader would probably ask that question. So the main thing the scene asserts is that she's not coming back to life like nothing ever happened. This is permanent. The story is about them permanently stuck together in his body. I was actually kind of worried people would be mad at me for not giving them a "happy ending", but to me the happy ending lies in them learning the joy of this new shape of life they now have, rather than him carrying the guilt of her death the whole time, and I was hoping to hint at that ending through this scene.

The thing about how people never can actually see themselves is a fun fact that every so often haunts me. We don't 100% know what we look like! We know how we look like in the mirror and how we look like photographed, but neither of those are the same as how we can see other people directly, as they really are. And even here, now, Cha Young isn't really seeing herself and she never will. She's seeing her own dead body -- and dead bodies look very much unlike living ones -- through a slightly myopic pair of eyes that's not her own.

(Yet.) (Part of the story is also about how the body turns from something she borrows from him into something she actually shares ownership with him, and that's why around the wall scene their body and body parts are referred to as "their" and not "his".)

Anyway I'll stop rambling before I bore you but thank you SO much for asking about this fic and giving me an excuse to revisit it <3 <3 <3

send me a short extract from my writing and i'll give you a "dvd commentary" about it!

[mochinon-yah]

AJDSJKSKKS HI HELLO SORRY MOCHI I JUST SAW THIS NOW PLS EXCUSE MY HAREBRAIN

ahem

man i just got off my break like a week ago hhhhh, but i can relate to being lazy and videogaming lol fdkjskj (me with acnh and genshin coughs) but my sleep schedule is considerably better? i have to wake up early on weekdays bc of my kid brother sadly smh and i spite him for it pretty sure college students are more stressed

JkeKJF THANKIES!! tbh i kind of just kept my bday private for a smaller group of friends (that includes you btw) + my boyfriend, but yea me being 20 isn't much different from being 18 lol. you rlly don't feel different until you hit 30 coughs anyway i return the headpaps and hugs mweeheheh >:D

istg my bf is just like albedo (but make him emo), cuz like he always struck me as the kind of person who will try to out-compliment you but at the same time is genuine? if that makes sense? EHFfdkskSKJFD but yea he's a sweetheart hehehe yes its real healthy couples do exist and i feel like a unicorn

anywayyyy yea i can name a lot of times where people can't catch onto my body language and i do that as well. like a simple question is fine if someone needs to get somewhere, but if it's someone i don't like i'll make it obvious. in general, if i don't know someone very well, i'll kind of just like veer away from them while giving them a dead stare- (and they still don't get the hint or are insanely blind to social cues)

NO CUZ THATS SO REAL?? if i get into a book, then it's usually because of a fanfic or some other form of media?? kind of like the acotar series i wanted to get into but like hesitant cuz i don't know if it's spicy ;3;

andd headpaps accepted nyehehehe

LMAOOO IT'S OKAY THO, NO WORRIES VIVI!! I woke up so suddenly so idk if i can answer this ask with the right mind 😭😭 sorry if there are soem typos or whatever grammatically wrong things lol

Hdjsjsjs a break will literally activates my lazy mode, and i swear i will get so, so lazy it would probably make you wonder why am i even still ali- *cough* anyway, thank god, your sleeping schedule is much better than mine 🥹👍👍 your lil brother is such a menace but i guess helpful too lmao

And YAAA, NO PROB VIVI :3 last birthday of mine was kinda quiet because only some people remembered lol. Then again, i'm a really quiet person irl, i doubt anybody would remember it- okay, this just turns so sour??? I'm gonna stop talking abt it jdjwkiekwk

I'm part of your smaller group of friends? 🥺👉👈 awwhhhh, you're making me blush- (i'm weak to words like that wth, no guys i do have friends too irl, i'm not a loner 😭) BUT LMAO YEAH, I AGREE WITH 'you rlly don't feel different until you hit 30'. Well, i haven't hit 30 yet, but i guess the only different thing would be that you can say you're old now- /jjj

(LMAO I FELL ASLEEP WHILE ANSWERING THIS.... anyway, back to answering vivi's ask :3)

Imagining emo! bedo and you with the dynamic of emo but cute x cute and cuter is so jdnsjkska 😭 i understand why you would feel like a unicorn even in ur own relationship.... for me, i feel like the side character who just saw the main character fall in love with each other lol

BUT LIKE AAAA SO CUTE, YOU AND HIM ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER?????

*cough* anyway-

People should really be attentive to other ppl ☝️ at least they should know if they're making it uncomfy for other ppl. But err, for me personally, i don't mind people gathering close to me, buuuttt it's possibly because of my friends since all of them are a lot, lot more sociable than me hahhaahaha- honestly, they often told me to talk more with people so i can know the latest gossip and just overall have many friends, but i really can't 😭😭 friendship with me is like the slow build-up but overall genuine one, or at least that's what i think....?

But ngl tumblr has help me a lot to be more expressive in public and just overall making me more sociable than in the past <3 i won't thank the tumblr app itself because the one who made me this way now is literally myself and also a whole bunch of amazing people i had met here, including youu!!! <3 whether you and them help me directly by interacting or just endulging in my silly behavior, ily all ueyehhewh (just gonna tag some ppl here teehe -> @beloved-brynn, @meimeimeirin, @leftdestiny-posts, @fishanonishere, @navxry, @calxlu (you) ♡ ily all, all of u are just so amazing, idk what i even did to meet u all, literally so happy if we ever talk or interact here <3)

OKAY 🤚 THE VIBE IS GETTING A BIT MORE.... UN-SILLY, SO UHHH MOVING ON TO THE NEXT BIT-

Fanfic literally runs half of the fandom, and that fandom could be anything lmao. Well, not really half, but a significant amount! I think memes also run a significant amount of keeping the fandom alive too lol

BUT YEAH, I ENDED UP BUYING PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, RIGHT? AND NOW I'M LIKE... "hm, what in the world is this word? who is talking in this part?? what is even happening-" jkjk, my vocabs is kinda limited since i'm not a native english speaker, but i do understand most of what the book is actually explaining

AND YAAYYY MY HEADPATS ARE ACCEPTED <3

[evansbby]

Bestie, girlypop, pookie, Darling-

I- I'm in fucking shock at the latest chapter...oh.my.GOD I have no words, genuinley..oh, who am I kidding I'm GUSHING IT WAS SO CRAZY!!! anyway my thoughts:

At this point I was like "oh god if this isn't a plot twist I just need Sharon and Y/N to kiss already" cuz it was hinting that she liked reader and I was dying!!!! Like yes bbg! But also why are you so dense!?! Block these morons and confess to your now bestie!!!

Speaking of besties: Wanda. I- look I didn't really like Wanda at all from the begging she was just not a good friend and not at all a girls girl. But the shit she pulled? Ugh! Wanted to smack her and not to mention how obnoxious Curtis was and how obvious it was he was cheating!!! But I digress.

Now Ari? I wanted to get a restraining order at this point like bruh leave miss girl alone! She don't want you!! And Y/N you fucking airhead grow a backbone don't let him into your fricking dorm room!!!! I'm still Team Steve, downright, my bbg did not deserve that shit! Well...maybe a bitch slap but he still should be a better pick than Ari cuz omg. And the scream I SCRUMT- I KNEW HE FUCKED KIRA! I WAS SO RIGHT! ugh poor baby she and Sharon seriously deserve better😭😭

And Stevie overdoasing?? The dialog??? The scene description?? Someone give my girl over here a fucking academy award we got our next Jane Austen!!! (Also this was a journey to read cuz I got a super bad migrain half way and I swear I woke up in a cold sweat and just started reading again😭)

Anyway I hope Y/N picks neither, makes up with Sharon they stay besties or smooch and they all live happily ever after U>U also I Need someone to kick drop Curtis and slap Wanda. That's all, that's my take.

Hope your having the most lovley day dear!!! Already screaming over what next chapter insues!

-💌

OMGGG LOVE LETTER ANON!!! bestie thank you so much for this long amazing delicious feedback ily girlyyy (and excuse my lack of emojis, i'm on my laptop!!)

AHAHAHAHA firstly... guess what, bestie??? in the original first draft of this fic before i made cuts and edits, SHARON DID ACTUALLY KISS READER!!! so you are totally not alone with your "kiss already!!" thoughts bc i think a lot of people were right there with you!!! i had always planned for sharon to have a crush on reader, all the way back from wicked games 2 actually!! but i had to cut the kissing scene out bc it made more sense to me to have sharon secretly pining for her! and also, it would've been weird if sharon kissed reader while she was so clearly looking all hurt and vulnerable - sharon is a lot more intuitive and sensitive to those type of emotions and the last thing she would've done is kiss reader the very day after she'd been hurt so badly by steve!! so i cut it hehe BUT THAT KISS DID ORIGINALLY HAPPEN.

okay now moving on... GIRLY IT'S SO OBVIOUS YOU'RE TEAM STEVE ALL THE WAY AND DON'T LIKE ARI MWAHAHAHAHA. but i don't think reader wanted Ari to leave her alone even though that's what she kept saying. but deep down... IDK hehehe. Ari WAS very persistent this chapter, but i think he was just desperate to show reader that he'd changed. As for Steve, i know he's everyone's bbg at the moment AND HE WAS SO FUN AND INTERESTING TO WRITE in this chapter!!! also not you calling me the next jane austen AHHHHH bestie i am not worthy of that!!! but thank you! i'm lowkey very proud of the steve scenes and the descriptions and dialogue towards the end of chapter 4! so thank you for recognising that!!

AND YES WANDA AND CURTIS BOTH NEED A BITCH SLAP!

also not you waking up in a cold sweat with a migraine and just... CONTINUING TO READ?!?! THAT'S A SOLID MOOD RIGHT THERE BESTIE WE ALL BEEN THERE AKFSNDALGNAK HAHAHAH ily thank you fr for being so so supportive of me. you are truly a queen and icon of the evansbby anon roster!!! ily

[himemiya-kun]

Blue Sea＊The Shining, Truthful Atlantis (Chapter 4)

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Chapter 4: Under the Surface

Winter

Characters:

• Wataru Hibiki

• Tori Himemiya

• Yuzuru Fushimi

<A few hours later. A newly opened Okinawan restaurant in the neighbourhood of ES>

Wataru: I see! You were talking about that while I was away!

That's good! It's a story that doesn’t interest me!

I'm lonely when I'm left behind on the topic of my friends, but if it's a story I'm not interested in, it's not so frustrating even if I’m left out!

Tori: No, let's be interested, it’s an important story.

Wataru: I don't care what happens to ES, or more specifically, what happens to the idol industry!

What's important is that the stories told by people are interesting enough to interest me. That's the only thing I'm interested in.

Eichi tends to get involved in a lot of talk about that, so I have enough knowledge of politics and economics to understand the context.

Tori: The argument of people who are shown sports that they are not very interested in.

Wataru: It's an appropriate expression! Amazing☆

Ah, I'll have something like this somen.

Well, today's performance was extremely tough, so I'm exhausted, and my stomach can only accept food that seems easy to digest.

Tori: Every day, Hibiki-senpai is saying something unusual for a human being.

Yuzuru: Fufu. It's rare for us to have a meal like this, Hibiki-sama.

Wataru: Hehehe. Just in case, I would like to ask you about some things so that this topic doesn’t get left out.

Isn't it a good idea to have a meal together once in a while with people from the same unit to deepen friendships?

Tori: Eichi-sama ended up going anyway since he had some work to do at his parents' house.

Yuzuru: It seems that Eichi-sama had missed the hint. I guess he needed to hurry and find a replacement for Young Master.

Tori: Ugh... Isn't that quick? I haven't replied properly yet?

Wataru: What do you mean?

Tori: Actually. It seems that Eichi-sama wanted to leave one of the branches related to Project-ATLANTIS to me.

Eichi-sama wanted to appoint someone who he could trust and had the level of ability as the boss of some branch office.

Wataru: Is that so? By having the people who serve as his hands and feet to manage the branch office, Eichi will be able to spread his intentions to every corner of the country—

Yuzuru: Fufu. It seems that Eichi-sama nominated Young Master for such a purpose.

Wataru: Are you the boss of the ES branch? Isn't it a great choice considering his age?

Why did you refuse, Himegimi?

Tori: I-I didn't refuse! But I looked pathetic due to lack of sleep, and I was told that I was busy with the student council elections—

Tori: I think that's why Eichi-sama decided that it was impossible for me to do it... He doesn’t want to give me any more burden.

I'm fine though. If Eichi-sama had trusted and entrusted me, I would have worked hard to live up to his expectations.

Wataru: Perhaps he was worried that Himegimi would try too hard like that. You collapsed during the SS, so he thought it would be dangerous for you this time.

Tori: Ah, that was a lifelong nightmare for me as well.

Because of that, because I collapsed, I lost Eichi-sama's trust...?

Wataru: No, no. Perhaps we should say that Eichi repented after that. Himegimi was given a responsibility that was too much for him to bear.

Tori: In other words, the bottom line is that you can't entrust me with the job because I'm not good enough!?

Yuzuru: Bocchama. You're in public, so please keep your voice down.

Tori: I understand. …Ah, excuse me, server, please give me this sata andagi.

Wataru: If you eat too much sweet food, you’ll gain weight. Well, you’re more chubby and adorable when you’re fat.

Eichi and the others are starting to wear down, probably due to the hard work they've been doing lately, and I can't help but worry when I look at them.

Yuzuru: Even if I'm fat, I'm more worried about adult diseases.

Tori: Hmm. I'm so stressed out, I can only relieve it by eating something sweet.

Yuzuru: Fufu. If it's a problem that can be forgotten just by eating sweets, it's better than anything. My eyes are going to spill on that unbalanced diet today.

Tori: It’s hard for me to forget it, or rather, it seems like it will drag on for a while... I ended up not getting accepted, but I listened to the whole story.

If I had more leeway, if I had grown stronger and better, I wonder if I would have been able to get involved in a big project like this.

For a while, well, I think I'll regret it forever.

Wataru: Isn't it too early to give up?

Tori: What do you mean?

Wataru: That's why. If you have such a longing for it, Himegimi, or if you are interested in the project, you can ask Eichi to let you get involved.

Himegimi seems to believe that Eichi's decision is final. I don't think that's true at all.

If Himegimi asks from the bottom of his heart, Eichi probably won't be able to refuse.

Moreover, Eichi also views Himegimi as a significant presence. That's why he must have tried to involve him in some kind of plan in this case.

Yuzuru: He said he wanted to leave it to someone he could trust. In Eichi-sama's case, there are probably fewer candidates than you might think.

Wataru: If you live a life that offends others, you will be in trouble at such times. Himegimi, if possible, try not to emulate that part of Eichi.

Tori: Yeah… Looking at the progress of the student council elections, I feel like I'm already following Eichi-sama's lead in that regard.

I was surprised that I got so much backlash from everyone—

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[cookiecomics]

The glorious whiplash of reading the first few chapters again with shy sad Ren blushing when he looks at Goro vs reading the newest chapter and seeing that same boy getting/giving his birthday bj~ You did it Ren, you snagged that detective by the belt! Anyways it is taking a lot of willpower not to gush at you constantly over every tiny thing. BUT! I love the overarching theme of Act 1, to me at least, is very much Just Too Late. Haru pointing out Ren's mental issues to Makoto _after_ Ren's attempt. The thieves realizing Ren's trying to help _after_ Ren says Fuck This and bullets the principle. I can point out like at least 5 more of those moments. (Ren to Suzui, Sojiro to Ren, Goro to the thieves, ect hehehe) I absolutely love the way you wordsmith! The pacing it wonderful, the pay off to hints is so worth it. The reread value alone is amazing! Thank you so much for spending the time and effort to work on this beast of a fic~!

jskhfkjsdjkf anon i love gushing and i appreciate this so much. You're absolutely right about the themes in act 1. it's sort of a spin in my head on Goro's "why couldn't we have met sooner" but for Ren. Sometimes the help or considerations we need come too late ;3;

;3; thank u for the kind words

[jinnxd]

Not only was I just thinking about you and your fic just as you updated it, you also wrote Mizuki in a way that absolutely made me disgusted, it was too perfect. Like spot on with some of the guys that have hit on me and one I ended up dating. Absolutely gross, I loved it! Even though it made my skin crawl. Like fuck Mizuki, Orochimaru can have his body if you ask me. And I can't wait to absolutely melt when you get to the point of actually making Kiya and Kakashi date. Is fanfiction off of fanfiction a thing? Because I can imagine it now: they get together and everything around the same time as team 7 is formed, and then Naruto and Sasuke get assigned to team 7, and they gotta warm up to Kakashi one way or another, and he to them, and it all ends up in the most adorable family picnic. Or family vacation. Where Kakashi and Kiya are trying to have a romantic moment or two that the kids keep ruining because they're trying to have a dumb contest, the kind Kakashi and Guy regularly have. Meanwhile Kiya and Kakashi are working on a way to take down Danzo. And both of the boys end up overhearing that goal but never know the reason why they wanna do that. And also I headcanon sasunaru so Sasuke leaves after the exams anyway, and along the way realizes his feelings for Naruto run deeper and so he returns to his family. And Naruto realizes his feelings after training with Jiraya. Kakashi and Kiya are kinda weirded out but they've seen weirder things so it's fine. And as a family, they take down Danzo. But during the fight Danzo reveals what he wanted to do with Kiya which makes both kids rage so hard they don't even leave a single atom of him remain once he's dead. Is there a plot to this? Absolutely, it's called revenge and happiness because fuck Danzo and I want everyone else to be happy. Anyway sorry for rambling, THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE, and I love you baiii <3

omg… you were thinking about me?! hehe I’m blushingggg (*´ ˘ `*).｡oO ( ♡ )

I felt horrible writing Mizuki and Kiya’s interactions, but they’re really just all based on past experiences of mine :3 that and I just took every single revolting aspect I could think of and threw them all at him hehehe—self-proclaimed “alpha male”? Check. Constantly interrupts Kiya and refuses to take no for an answer? Check! Negs her at every possible turn? Check, check, check!!!

(AU headcanon: Mizuki is a die-hard Andrew Tate fan)

I feel like we’ve all had shitty experiences with shitty men before (like wtf why are they EVERYWHERE) so this chapter/Mizuki’s WHOLE character is a tribute to all the victims of shitty men (≧o≦) I sincerely hope that the guy you ended up dating did not last long at all, and I hope he got what was coming to him! No one deserves to be treated that way >:(

(but I admit I’m having fun with this—it’s like Mizuki is being put in a public stockade and we all get to throw rotten tomatoes at him :) in a way, it’s nice to see that he’s so widely hated, because WE ALL DESERVE BETTER!!!)

I can’t wait for Kakashi and Kiya to get together, either🤭 there’s been a tiny hint of progress, but there’s still a long way to go until they both stop being idiots and just KISS already 👺

The fanfic of a fanfic is ADORABLE, I love that so much :’) I just want them all to be happy, they deserve so much love <3

And as for the Danzo takedown, there are a million different ideas in my head that are floating around!!! It sort of drives me crazy because everything else has an outline, but Danzo’s demise is just one big question mark🙈 the goal is to have it be a team effort, give everyone a chance to get their revenge, y’know? But then in the meantime Danzo just gets to LIVE until Sasuke’s old enough to beat him up… AHHHH idk idk idk all I know is I want everyone to jump his old mummy-looking ass 😌

RAMBLING IS MY FAV, I LOVE RAMBLING!!! (as we can all tell, I physically cannot shut up… we’re barely halfway through the story and at almost 300k words… oopsie) DONT APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING!!!!! Thank *you* for this lovely lovely comment, it was a pleasure to read 🫶🫶🫶

SENDING YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!!! ( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡

[atherix]

Ooh atherix, once again it is morning for me. No wonder i had this tiny gut feelin to tell me to check ur blog up and lo and behold, a new chapter has dropped.

I gotta say, i LOVE the way you write. Especially the way you describe the place, the little things mumbo sees and all that. And do not get me started with how soft Mumbo is with tubbo. Just,,,,the way you write makes ME feel soft, its like watching a kid with an awkward step dad who loves the kid with all his heart but doesnt fuckin know how to act around them and afraid they'll hate u wjxjdjd

And oh man, the snippet that u showed us?? I went thru like a whole JOURNEY over that before i got to that part of the fic. I thought at first, it was tubbo. Bc knowing tubbo, he is a petty kid who will not hesitate to call you bs out. But then i rmb the mimics and went like 'hmmm maybe its those mimics??' And BOOM it was.

And those mimic, BRO I LOVE THEM. I mean i hate how cruel they were but they are an amazing specimen to a writer's eye KEKW. I just loves creatures that can fuck you up mentally or even used your deepest desires and insecurities to their advantage wjdbdbd.

These types of creatures are fascinating in itself, but what makes it a fine specimen for writers is cause they force your characters to realise what their inner problems are, and it can help them tackle them either on their own or someone else finally helps them with it. In othr words GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT MATERIAL WOOOOO

Anyway this fic isnt as painful as the previous one which made me a bit scared but veru excited. I am current rattling the bars of my cage as we speak out of excitement for it.

- purp anon

Look. It is a good idea to always check my blog because I update at the most random times. 4 PM on a Wednesday? Sure. 3 AM that Thursday? Why not. <3

fhdsjfghsdjk thank you so much!! <3 I love like... "painting" the environment ya know? <3 I try to be loose enough that people can imagine while having enough details to try and paint a picture... and allude/hint to certain things <3 Look. LOOK. I am thoroughly enjoying the slow adoption of Tubbo. I am enjoying the dadification of Mumbo and Grian. I am. Delighted <3 I am so glad other people are enjoying it too <3

Oh Tubbo will ABSOLUTELY call you out on your BS. However, he also knows Scar loves Mumbo very much and is happy they're finally together (he won't say it out loud, of course). He ALSO wasn't actually aware of the state of Scar and Mumbo's relationship- all he knew was Mumbo was a "good man" who happened to be a Vampire, a client of Scar's, and Scar has been crushing on him since basically the start. So it wouldn't have been him saying those things <3 Yes. Mimics my beloathed hjkgfjkkjgf-

I LOVE THE MIMICS TOO. I love some mind fuckery. Emotions? WRECKED. Life? DESTROYED. They will drag out your deepest insecurities and fears that you've refused to put a name to and hit you with it before you even get the chance to process it's THERE. I love it. They're a little (real: a lott'a) fucked up and they got the spirit <3

YES. It forces them to confront the deeper parts of themselves and gives them a chance to fix things before they manifest in the worst possible ways <3 YEEEE <3

Haha this chapter certainly doesn't have the impact the last one would have. Literally no one knew it was coming, not even Stitch <3 It came out of NOWHERE and I was DELIGHTED hehehe. Don't be scared, there's no reason at all to be afraid <3 Hehehe-

[ferdiesnini]

Happy 64th birthday Daddy!

I’m a day late posting this year. I didn’t get to buy a cake yesterday. The thing is, my body clock makes it so that I’m awake in the wee hours, and asleep during the day.

I talked to Meann from 12 midnight up to about 3:30 in the morning. It started with us greeting you a happy birthday and then reminiscing about the past. Remembering the cake you got her for one of her birthdays as a grade schooler and how you barred her from going out the front door because the cake was outside. How you allowed me to go through so that I can light the candle and how you carried the cake inside afterwards.

How you’d always say “mukhang masarap yan ah” when you see us eating something to signify that you want some, and how you’d say “di masarap!” after finishing a plate of food, even if nasimot lahat.

I got to sleep for about an hour and then woke up to help your son in law get ready for the day. After he left for work, I looked through the cakes for sale on the food app in the but not a lot of options since it was early and so I decided to get back to it in the afternoon. I fell asleep afterwards. So when I woke up, it was almost 5pm and the only thing I could think of is dinner. Remembering I still have a salad bowl which I purchased the night before, I was covered for the night and was completely disoriented and forgot that I was thinking of getting a small cake for you, or maybe even a slice. Since it’s only me and my husband at home, cakes usually don’t get finished unless I eat most of it, which at this stage and in my age, wouldn’t really be a good idea. I’m trying to get back to eating healthier. Remember how stick thin I was growing up even when I ate like a construction worker? I’m still a foodie, but after passing 30 I started gaining weight. It is very hard to get back to how I weighed before. Can you imagine, I’m at 70kgs right now. That’s me after losing 2kgs Dad. I hope to go back to at least 56, hopefully 52.

Should we just share the cake I’ll surely receive for my birthday in several days? Unless I lose my fight with cravings later and ultimately purchase a slice, or a small cake— we’ll share that one, okay? Anyway, if you see the cake I’m sure you’ll say “mukhang masarap yan a!” Hehehe.

Oh, also… I’m not 100 percent sure but the baby girl who lives across from us, Lily— I heard it was her birthday last night (she was talking to her grandpa). So you might share the same birthday. Even with that my brain didn’t compute to remind me that it was November 9 and I was supposed to get you a cake. But anyway, what’s important is that I remember now.

We love you Dad. Still waiting for you. Happy 64th birthday Daddy!

⭐️🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔

November 15 Update

It’s my birthday today. It’s 7:20 in the evening and from our side of the family, it seems only Meann remembered it’s my birthday. Mom sent a picture of Tita Jane’s only daughter’s wedding but forgot to greet me. It’s alright though.

I woke up this morning with the sounds of activity in the kitchen. I realized it was my husband preparing his birthday surprise but decided to stay “asleep” to allow him to proceed with his plans. At some point, something fell so loud that I can’t just ignore it and had to wake up. By the time he approached with the cake, I turned my head towards him and he protested that he wasn’t ready yet 🤣 cos apparently, there’s still several things he haven’t set up yet.

He then proceeded to go back to the kitchen and handed me two bouquets of flowers.

And then brought in a sturdy paper bag with the word “switch” on it. Under it is an apple with a bite.

It’s an apple product. I wondered if he got me an apple watch because it’s the only thing in the apple store that I can think of that I don’t have yet. Although, I never really asked him for one or hinted at it, especially since I very much prefer the cheap version of it that I can get online for like, a thousand peso. If that breaks I wouldn’t feel so disheartened. But a watch that costs almost as much as an older version of an iphone or macbook— I don’t really think it’s worth it.

I opened the bag and I found a box for an iPhone 14.

He bought me a second phone because I whenever we go out, I would have to switch my simcard out of my iphone to get internet connection. Now my second sim has a new permanent home.

He also played some birthday music on TV via Spotify

And at some point we slow danced to it together. Not specifically the song on the picture but some other song in the playlist— that is also about birthdays.

And as promised, I share with you my cake Daddy.

It is a mocha chiffon cake with some buttercream frosting. Do you remember how I would always bake a mocha chiffon cake on everyone’s birthdays when I was a junior and senior in high school?

My husband asked me to lunch this coming weekend to celebrate my birthday. We’re inviting Mom and the siblings. David asked me to also invite my friends but I’d rather not. I realized one of them, the one I was closest to in senior year— never really appreciated the amount of affection I have for them, and my efforts to help them by sending information when they need it, were basically made to look ridiculous. Imagine how much effort I placed on writing them long letters back in the day after graduating high school, and her talking to one of our male classmates, you know him, the one I used to have a crush on, to basically make it seem like I just have a lot of things to say for no reason. Based on what she told us that she said to him— when the guy asked why I “was like that” when I sent a message to a group chat to tell him off after questioning her sexuality and surmising that maybe she was a lesbian, she replied that she doesn’t know, that I just write long things and it’s just that I’ve always been like that, I write paragraphs.

When the truth was, she complained to me and our other friends about him commenting on and questioning her sexuality. I basically defended her. And she knew hours before I sent that message that I will defend her, that I’ll take care of it— just like I always did for all of them cos they couldn’t confront people unless I start it. Anyway. I’m just tired of them at the moment. I told my husband I’d just see them next year.

Sorry for complaining to you on our birthday week hehe. Anyway, that’s where I am now.

I love you Daddy. I thank you and Mommy fo having and raising me.

My hopes are always the same. We still wait for you. Happy birthday to us, and Cha.

Nov 16 update:

Apparently Mom sent me a greeting yesterday which I didn’t receive. So I told Meann to have it resent to me tomorrow since it’s still my birthday anyway (my Chinese calendar birthday, that is.)

[sungbeam]

OH MY GODDD IT’S LIKE YOU LITERALLY SUMMONED ME THAT’S CRAZY LIKE DA-DARA-RAAAAA 🧚‍♀️✨

I am just like… crying tears of joy… school is finally over LMAO I was fighting for my life fr fr-

BUT YAS MANIFESTING MY FIRST SUMMER FIC AND NOW I’M EXTRA EXCITED CAUSE FIRST I WAS GONNA GO ONE ROUTE AND THEN IT’S LIKE MY FYP WANTED ME TO FIND A SPECIAL SMTH SMTH FOR ME TO CREATE MY MAGNUM OPUS AND I CAN’T WAIT CAUSE NOW I’M 100% DEAD SET now I just have to see which member 🫣

BTW HOW DARE YOU RELEASE NOT ONE BUT TWO SANGYEON FICS??? LIKE HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT HE WAS ABSOLUTELY BIAS WRECKING ME 😭😭 I’m like,,, too scared to read them cause I feel like I’d get too delulu 😨

BTW NO DRAMA IS SAURRR FUNNY IM LOVING IT SM SO FAR EVEN THOUGH IT’S ONLY BEEN 3 EPISODES SO FAR LOL I’m always for the chaotic energy 🤭🤭 can’t wait to see ep 4 cause the title is already wild FYTVHGJ

But yuhhh other than that there hasn’t really been many life updates from me so feel free to use this as a little catching up/speak your mind moment hehe!

OH OH ACTUALLY OSHI NO KO IS DONE AIRING SO I CAN FINALLY WATCH IT YAS idk if you watch anime or read manga (pls recommend some if you do lolol) but I usually have to wait for a series or season to end before watching it cause I would actually go insane being left on a cliffhanger like I can’t take it fr 😭

ANYWAYS, hope you’re doing well as always and I can’t wait to catch up with anything I’ve missed out on hehe!

- In all your endeavours, forever, 🌷 anon (wink)

P.S. IT’S ACTUALLY CRAZY HOW I JUST REALIZED THAT YOU WERE THE ONE THAT WROTE THAT FIC LIKE OMG??? If I difn’t mention it before, I was an atiny before I also became a deobi so I TECHNICALLY DISCOVERED YOU TWICE LMAOOO MAYBE LIGHTNING DOES STRIKE TWICE SOMETIMES

AHHHHHAHAHAH DA DARA RAAAA HELLO BESTIE WELCOME BACK !!! congrats on finishing school for the summer u made it 🤧

OMG DEAD SET???? THATS CRAZY WISH I COULD RELATE (´Д⊂ヽ now it's member picking time? 👀✨ ooh la-la would u give up any hints 👀✨ no cuz sometimes social media does work wonders and knows exactly wear ur head's at and it's chef's kiss mWAH when it happens

omg HAHA it's weird because im technically in a kyukev mood rn but my writing says otherwise 🥴🥴 crazy how these things work huh? but u should read them hehehe join the club of sangyeon delulus

AHHH im glad u like no drama so far :')) it was a lot of fun to write, and it felt very nice to just let loose and not have a specific plot to go off, just have like some chaotic dialogue/interactions in mind that i can jump off 🤧🤧 it's very therapeutic to pretend to be friends with them haha (as sad as that sounds 💀); plus, i feel like there r never enough platonic interaction fics for kpop ff, and i've always wanted to do one of those kinds of fics!!

ohh omg i actually don't watch anime or read mangas unfortunately 😭😭😭 i would deffo rec some if i did, but alas 😔 oh yeah i totally get the waiting until all the eps r out first TT but i feel like lately i've just cared a little less?? idk if that's the right wording 💀 but idk maybe i don't mind waiting anymore or im impatient? but i usually watch eps when they come out or until i have the time and energy ekfbkrbfjf did any of that make sense??? LMFAO

idk if u missed much really 😭😭 i haven't really been as active ig but hopefully u do enjoy what ur catching up on !! hopefully now that ur on break, we can talk some more hehe (^_-)-☆

bro i've been seriously considering some superhero aus for tbz (´Д⊂ヽ like i already started this one sunwoo and slight eric spiderverse fic, and i really wanna write my sunwoo star lord or nova fic too; plus, i think kev just deserves to be moon knight, no questions asked (or maybe ant man? he has that quality lol) but yeah, lmk ur thoughts!!

OMG IN ALL UR ENDEAVORS FOREVER YES MY BABY :')))) TELL ME WHO UR ATEEZ BIAS IS RN !!!!! maybe we were fate if u found me twice 👀✨

anyways, always and forever <3 lots of love 💖

[potetosaradas]

OHOHOHOHOHOH TUMBLR USER ALLEYCATT722 >:))))))))))

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!!!!!!!! (idk why i cant tag u..?) BUT ANYWAY, HEHEHE, ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN WHY PRECANON PRICKCEST IN PARTICULAR ROTS MY BRAIN LIKE NOTHING ELSE HEHEHEHEHE (its like ive been waiting for this question my entire life) and WHY I CAN NEVER GET ENOUGH OF IT!!!!!!!!!!! NEVER EVER EVER!!!!!!! nYEHEHEHEHEHE (rubbing my hands like a nasty fuckin fly >:))

there are so many reasons why i have obsessed daily for over a year and a half over this particular moment in time between THEY.

FIRST OF ALL, we have canon statements from Rick AND Prime that may have hinted at something more between them than what has been shown to us on screen. Which leads me to believe that they were AT LEAST partners or friends (maybe even fucking im js) but at the VERY LEAST there was something between them in precanon that has not been explored on screen.

Given what Rick Prime's final words were:

“Listen, Rick to Rick, he’s got the weapon plans. Buddy, nip this in the bud. He’s 14. What’s gonna happen the next time he gets mad at grandpa? Let’s do this then. You’re welcome, by the way. I made you. I showed you infinity. And what did you do with it? Hang out with my grandson, raise echoes of my daughter? What’s your life without me?[…] Admit it. You would've been me! I just walked into your garage before you walked into mine! But eventually... you did! YOU LIVED IN MY HOUSE!”

I particularly like to focus on this part: " I made you. I showed you infinity. "

Precanon prickcest allows for SO MANY little brain rot moments that MAY HAVE VERY WELL BEEN CANON!! For example: going on adventures together, making inventions-- generally fucking around doing dumb shit together (refer to the Jerricky episode from s7 lmao) and of COURSE we definitely cannot forget the ice cream..... (if that wasnt proof they were fuckin idk what to tell u sksksksk)

listen, theyre both Ricks. They're both bound to feel strongly and hold onto a grudge but holding onto a grudge for FORTY FUCKIN YEARS IS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY!!! ive said this before and ill say it again BUT U DONT GET TO HATE SOMEONE THAT BAD WITHOUT LOVING THEM JUST AS HARD BEFOREHAND!!! YES im definitely sure Prime killing Rick's family was the straw that broke the camel's back, but i definitely think that there was something else that happened between them that started causing issues in their alignment with each other. What that misunderstanding/argument was about, I have no idea-- i have a few floating ideas but nothing concrete.

Second of all, Rick's character has been undeniably shaped by Prime's influence on him. A lot of his driving motivations stem from his tangled connection with his alternate self-- and not just ANY alternate self- THE ONLY OTHER RICK TO INVENT PORTAL TRAVEL. There isn't much we know about Young Rick-- but we know for certain that hes going to become a tired, jaded, bitter old man who has doggedly chased after the man who changed his life for FORTY+ YEARS. But i like to think that Rick C137 wasn't bitter and jaded his entire life. Precanon prickcest allows me to speculate on Young Rick as a character (total mystery given how much we know about him) and what he was like. Piecing him backwards from canon material and speculating what happened between him and Prime is so much fun.

SECOND REASON WHY I LOVE PRECANON PRICKCEST. The ANGST i get from prickcest in general is phenomenal... but the angst ONLY BECOMES BETTER (like a mature cheese or wine lol) when you speculate on the Good Times (precanon prickcest) if you've ever been wronged by your best friend, you know that shit sticks with you FOREVER. If you've been wronged by your best friend AND lover? Well...... thats something worth rotting over for 40+ years, dont u think LMAO

Precanon vibes are IMMACULATE (i personally love to focus on moments when Diane wasnt even in the picture and it was just them going out doing space boy shit) but when you add Diane to the mix, things become infinitely complicated. THE ANGST AND GUILT FROM CHEATING!!!!! I am almost 100% convinced that Rick was cheating on Diane with Prime. But for me, it's not about the cheating so much as what Diane and Prime mean to Rick.

Rick was presented with two choices: become a trad husband with a picket fence house and a sweet family to match OR to continue cultivating the scientist in himself, exploring all of the universe (and more!! when you consider the multiverse!) we know that Rick didn't have a happy marriage and he looks down on the concept openly. I WONDER WHY I WONDER WHY I WONDER WHY!!!!!!!!!! :)))))) anyway, in the end, it didn't matter. He lost both Diane and Prime.

THIRDLY-- I am ABSOLUTELY a sucker for dynamics like: best friends, partner in crime, friendly(?) rivals and old married couple and the infamous friends to lovers to enemies vibes and precanon prickcest naturally allows me to explore those dynamics, EVEN WITHOUT having to create a canon-divergent AU with Diane dying, u know? ITS ALL THERE, it just needs to be speculated about hehehe which i do. a lot. especially in my fics KJSADHFKJSAH :'DDD

prickcest is not a super fluffy ship when you think about it and i am a fucking slut for fluff... but u know what!!!! PRECANON PRICKCEST ABSOLUTELY ALLOWS FOR FLUFFY MOMENTS BETWEEN THEY AND I EAT IT UP LIKE A SEAGULL ON HOT CHIPS!!!!!! EVERY DAMN TIME!!!!

anyway basically, I love precanon prickcest bc what is it like to fall so deeply in love with your best friend (who is yourself from an alternate dimension??????? this already brings up so many delicious self questioning/self exploring moments lmaooo) ONLY to be betrayed so horrifically, it rots you for 40 years??????? IDK IDK. IM JUST SAYING.

This rant is mostly from a Young Rick perspective, but GOD THINKING ABOUT PRECANON PRICKCEST FROM PRIME'S PERSPECTIVE IS REALLY WHAT GETS ME GOING IM NGL

…. Maybe got a new prickcest fic in the works KSKSKSK

[multifandoms27-blog]

Aaaaaaaa!!!!!! Bro im genuinely so happy you write for gyutaro, theres almost next to nothing abt him 😭😭

Can i request some hc of a masc but if not that's okay s/o whose taller than Gyutaro and who loves to spoil and fluster/embarrass him with so much affection?? Like everytime they see him, its kisses to his birthmarks, gentle touches, and so many affirming words 💖💖

I'm just so down bad lately bro, also good luck with college!!! I know it gets super hectic, but i know you can do this!!!

I KNOW HE DESERVES BETTER <3 Also, thank you for the college encouragment :3

• ───────────────── •

Content: Gyutaro x masc!Reader

Warnings: Possessiveness

Notes: This can be read with any pronouns, feel free to read <3 also this was supposed to be put up hours ago, but I got some Halloween decorations for my hamster <33 (he's so cute y'all would love him)

• ───────────────── •

UGH

Coming from a woman who is masc, and normally taller than every man I meet (including my current boyfriend LOL) I can relate hard to this

ANYWAY LOL

Gyutaro is going to be put off by someone taller than him, as that doesn't...usually happen

I know he's kinda gangly, and his official height hasn't actually been officially stated, but we know he envies Tengen for being "well over six feet." So, I'd deduce that Gyutaro is in the 5'10" - 5'11" range

The first time you raise your hand to caress his cheek, he's going to flinch, thinking you're gonna hit him

But he softens and relaxes when you smile and softly drag your thumb over his cheek

Is going to stumble on hit feet whenever you bombard his face with kisses, feeling especially shy when you kiss his scars and birth marks

Is going to squeal like a girl when you pick him up and run off with him possibly to the bedroom hehehe

Is going to blush profusely and possibly even become a tsundere for a bit, not believing that you actually love him, and thinking that you just want something from him

However, the more attention you pay to him, show you trust him completely, and how many people you reject for him out of all people...okay, maybe he'll begin to accept that you truly love him

Not to say that he doesn't already love you - he was smitten from the first kind act you did for him

He's still going to scratch his skin off if he sees someone come up to you

He anxiously waits to see if you walk off with them or not. A part of him will always think you'll leave him, thanks to his upbringing

Is gonna want to devour anyone who even looks in your direction

All he can do is hold your hand and grumble, though, not feeling as big of a need to protect you as you're bigger than him

He's still really jealous and possessive. The "you know other men?" meme kinda vibe lol

When you give him unsolicited reassuring words while kissing him and holding him, he's going to be so quiet and feel so small

"N-no, you don't really mean that..."

"But I do! I love you, Gyu, and you need to know that you're adorable!"

Gyutaro is going to take a while to get used to your gentle touch, but after eating with Ume, or after he sees someone fail at trying to sweep you off your feet, he'll gently grab your hand and place it on his cheek, hoping you'll get the hint and caress him again.

You're his and only his! Nobody else can have your gentle touch, your loving words and gaze, or your affections! Only him! Only Gyutaro!

He might end up snapping and going on a rampage if someone says one bad thing about you, especially if you're not there

He can't survive without you! How dare someone try to soil you?!

Will develop a habit of plopping in your lap and huffing when he's upset, or just wants attention

Really likes to feel small and safe with you, will frequently ask for headpats

Wants you to mark him so people (especially other demons) can know that he's yours 😤

He also just really likes admiring the marks, and will heal them quicker if it means you'll give him more <3

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[inkykeiji]

feels like forever, even if forever’s tonight

characters: thoma, kamisato ayato

genre: smut

notes: aaaaah my first (finished) genshin piece!!! i had such a blast writing this hehehe i just love this dynamic so! much! reader is female, and this is mostly written from thoma’s point of view. in my mind, this is absolutely a crime family AU, but you’re welcome to think of it in terms of canon if you’d like! please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: mine by bazzi

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dubcon, manipulation/coercion, daddy kink, toxic relationships, size kink/size difference, belly bulge, cuckolding kinda (ayato watches thoma fuck his girlfriend), praise, reader is quite flexible, a hint of dumbification/degradation, rough sex, overstimulation + mentioned orgasm denial as punishment, dacryphilia, power play/power dynamics, thoma is a sub-leaning switch in this, interchangeable use of the words my lord/master

words: 5.7k

synopsis:

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

The walls of the Kamisato Estate are intentionally thick, tasked with concealing centuries of secrets within their wooden embrace. Many important words—deals, negotiations, threats—are spoken throughout these halls, many promises made within these rooms, and such precious, confidential sentiments must be protected at all costs.

So, of course, when Thoma hears the distinct murmuring of that low baritone vibrating through the hardwood floor from below Ayato’s home office, he thinks nothing of it. This isn’t out of the ordinary—Ayato often works late, after all, and it isn’t uncommon for him to be busy sifting through documents and conducting phone calls long after Thoma has turned in for the night.  

It’s common courtesy for Thoma to let his superiors know when he’s done for the day, and common respect to bid them a good night before he finally retreats back to his own quarters, the action so ingrained in his daily routine it’s become almost instinctual at this point.

Those dense manilla walls keep Ayato’s words muffled and unintelligible, even as Thoma nears the room they’re being spoken from, and he thinks nothing of sliding that heavy wooden door open just enough for his slim body to slip through the crack, as he’s done a million times before.

But the scene he’s met tonight with is unlike anything he’s ever stumbled upon, tongue gone heavy and sluggish in his mouth, saliva gathering in suffocating pools at the back of his throat, so much so that it gurgles with his sharp gasp of surprise and he chokes, coughing around the stinging breath tangled in threads of spit.

Various documents and expensive paperweights litter the floor, evidently knocked to the ground by your writhing limbs, naked body sprawled across the surface of Ayato’s long, low desk, one hand curled around the sharp edge of the dark mahogany wood, the other fisted in Ayato’s expensive dress shirt.

Kneeling between your spread legs, a fully clothed Ayato leans over your body, murmuring out a condescending croon as one strong hand catches the trembling ankle hitched on his shoulder, mindlessly readjusting it.

“Poor thing,” he sighs out with a touch of indifference embedded in his tone. “You’ve completely lost control of your body, haven’t you?”

You’re babbling out a string of unintelligible words, letters welded together with spit on your tongue, head nodding in slow, sluggish, stupid movements.

“Well, that’s okay,” Ayato coos, voice silk and syrup. “You don’t need to do anything when Daddy’s here do to it for you, do you?”

You aren’t afforded a moment to answer, though, the hand buried between your thighs twisting, pumping, curling, two—or three, Thoma can’t really tell from this angle—fingers deep in your glistening cunt, motions yanking a cracked whine from your throat.

“You don’t need to talk,” he grunts in time with the thrusting of his hand. “You don’t need to move,” another grunt, another thrust. “You don’t even need to think at all, isn’t that right, princess?”

You don’t answer, and Thoma isn’t sure if it’s because you’re not supposed to, or if it’s because you can’t, fragmented mewls being torn to shreds by hitched little gasps.

“Thus,” Ayato continues, calmly, coldly, serenely, as if he is completely unfazed by the current situation. “Next time, when Daddy tells you to not talk to a client and to stay put during his meeting, you will obey, correct?”

A moan vaguely reminiscent of an affirmation falls from your lips, head nodding in quicker motions now, short and sharp.

Thoma should leave. This isn’t right, staying to watch something so intimate, hiding in the shadows like a fucking pervert; this is—this is morally reprehensible, this is disgusting, this is a very private matter he should’ve never been privy to.

Yes, Thoma should most definitely leave. Anyone with common sense, with half a mind, with any sort of respect for their superiors at all, would’ve already left.

And yet, his heavy legs won’t fucking move, feet filled with concrete and weighted to the floor, hard cock throbbing, begging, him to stay just a little longer.

But then your misty eyes, half-lidded and unfocused and lolling around in your head like a pair of loosely secured marbles, graze over Thoma’s shrouded figure, and your gaze snaps to his face, shock and terror eradicating that drowsy, dopey haze in an instant.

“Daddy—”

“Hmm?” Ayato hums, the curling of his fingers turned vicious. “Didn’t Daddy just tell you that you don’t need to speak?”

“No—” you gasp, the word trembling, wide eyes stuck to Thoma’s face.

“No?” he seems surprised, a touch of amusement in his tone, and Thoma can practically hear him raising an eyebrow—a question, a challenge. “You’re telling Daddy no, after all of that punishment you just endured?”

“Wa-Wait, Da—”

“Oh,” he clicks his tongue, as if it’s such a pity, and Thoma doesn’t need to see his expression to know his forehead’s crinkling and mouth’s tugging downward, features saturated with mocking disappointment. “And you were doing so well.”

“I just—”

“I was going to allow you to cum, too,” he continues in that solemn tone, mourning your lost orgasm that Thoma’s sure you worked so hard to achieve. “Shame.”

“Daddy!” you squeal, the honorific practically fucked out of you by Ayato’s fingers, face contorting as you force the second name from your mouth. “Thoma!”

And, for a moment, everything stops, your whines gone silent, Ayato’s voracious fingers halting their ministrations. Thoma’s blood turns to sharp ice in his veins, his heart freezing in his chest, his breath gone frigid in his lungs.

“Oh,” Ayato says after a moment of realization, following your watery gaze over his shoulder and staring up at his subordinate. “Thoma, hello.”

Shuffling a little on his knees, Ayato turns to face Thoma fully, a pleasant little smile plastered across his face.  

“I—I—” Thoma begins, head shaking in jerky, rigid movements, body thawing enough for him to start backing up, spine whacking painfully against the corner of the wall. “I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry, my lord—This was—I really just—” his lungs shrivel in his chest as he runs out of air, inhaling harshly to revive them only to choke on his own breath as his eyes involuntarily scan his master’s body, focusing on the shimmering patch of slick staining his trousers, massive cock outlined by the wet fabric clinging to it as it strains against the material.

You’ve soaked him all the way through.

The whimper that sounds at the back of Thoma’s throat as he arrives at such a realization is downright mortifying—automatic, animalistic, pathetic—and he presses his lips together firmly in a futile attempt to silence it.

“Please, relax,” Ayato instructs, calm voice drawing Thoma’s attention back to his face. “You are not in trouble, Thoma,”

And although his voice is ridden with concern, Thoma can see it, that special little twinkle glittering in those periwinkle eyes, the one Thoma’s witnessed a million times before during deals and threats and negotiations, the one Ayato gets just before he strikes.

“I’m so sorry,” Thoma says again, the apology nothing more than a rush of breath from his mouth, elbows bumping against the wall as he raises his hands in surrender. “I was only—”

“Would you like to stay a while?”

Thoma stops.

Stay?

His cock twitches eagerly in his trousers at the prospect, his throat going dry, gummy walls sticking together as he attempts to swallow.

“Uh—Wh-What?”

“You’re welcome to continue watching, if you’d like to,” Ayato continues without a hitch, pleasant and cordial.

“I—” Yes. Yes, he would very much like to. “No, I really should be going. I’m sorry, my lord, I really shouldn’t have stayed—that was so gross of me—please forgive me for such disrespect, I’ll take my leave now—”

“Nonsense,” Ayato dismisses, eyes traveling down Thoma’s quivering body, halting their trajectory at his erection and pausing for a moment before trailing back up. “You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like to. And,” violet eyes flick down to his crotch again, a smug smirk molding to Ayato’s lips. “It seems like you’d like to.”

Of course he’d like to, Thoma’s features crinkle a little in self-deprecating confusion. Who wouldn’t like to?

From behind Ayato’s broad shoulder, you peak out, arms wrapped loosely around your torso, shoulders curved inward in a poor imitation of a shield. You look unsure—unsettled, almost—and Thoma feels that thick, tarry guilt unfurl in the pit of his stomach, spreading to engulf his surrounding organs in its sticky, suffocating embrace, snuffing out his spark of hope in an instant.

What a fucking sicko he is for even considering it, for even deriving the smallest amount of perverse pleasure from such voyeuristic endeavours, for memorizing your expressions and sounds, burning them into the tissues of his brain for later use.

He should’ve never invaded on something so personal, so precious, in the first place.

“I’m not sure she’d like me to.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out as utterly disappointed as it does, whole face crumpling with bitter embarrassment. Eyes scrunched shut tightly, he attempts to clarify himself.

“I just mean—I don’t want to upset—offend—her any further,”

“There are no such worries to be had,” Ayato reassures lightly as he turns back to look at you, a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, long fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, the bow of your lips. “Right, sweetheart? You don’t mind if Thoma stays to watch, do you? Wouldn’t you like to show him how pretty you look when you cum on Daddy’s cock?”

Another one of those sinful whimpers claws at the back of Thoma’s tongue, but your eyes have gone glassy, glittery, glazed over with sheer want, lips parting a little as you nod.

“See?” Ayato says, but his eyes do not stray from yours, his head quirking slightly, voice gone soft. “She doesn’t mind one bit.”

Microscopic shards of ice prick through his skin, and Thoma shivers.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, wincing with the words.

“Absolutely positive,” Ayato responds with an amicable smile, finally moving to face him again. “But the choice is yours, Thoma.”

Swallowing thickly, Thoma’s eyes shift from Ayato’s face to yours, and then back again, tongue running along this top teeth and sucking as he contemplates. He wants to, of course he wants to, god does he ever want to, but—

“Stay,” you offer quietly, chin tucked cutely to your chest, gazing at him through your lashes. “Please, stay.”

And so, he does.

There’s something so taboo about it all, something so wrong, so bad about watching his boss fuck his most precious treasure, cinders of desire flickering in Thoma’s tummy as he settles down on the floor only a few feet away from your tangled bodies, legs tucked beneath him.

The hunger in Ayato’s eyes is fierce enough to swallow you whole, pupils blown and insatiable as they glide over your body, soaking up every expression, sucking down every sound, his face a heady blend of admiration and ardor.

But Thoma can’t blame him; you look breathtakingly beautiful. Skin sweat-drenched and sparkling, lips bitten raw and puffy, tiny crystal teardrops still clinging stubbornly to your clumped lashes, the devotion in your stare so strong it’s nearly crushing. Paired with the symphony of your soft mewls and sweet whimpers, you’re a living, breathing masterpiece all on your own.

He isn’t sure what, exactly, he was expecting Ayato’s style of fucking to consist of, but the healthy mix of slow, hard, sensual thrusts—filled with murmured out teases and lots of biting, licking, kissing—followed by bouts of fast, rough pistons of his hips—filled with sharp, mocking sentiments and cruel little laughs, all still managing to sound elegant in Ayato’s dignified lilt despite their callous nature—is really fucking hot.

Blunt nails carve crescents into his flesh as his fists clench tighter, thin skin stretched taut over his knuckles.

His cock is aching, but he’s unsure if he’s allowed to touch it. Would rubbing the heal of his palm against it be considered rude, or would Ayato see it as silly constraint? What if he took it out? Does he even want to take it out? Is it weird if he does? Is it weird if he doesn’t?

“Thoma,” his lord calls out in a singsong scold, stilling his hips and snapping Thoma from his thread of thoughts. “I can hear you thinking.”

“Sorry, my lord,” he responds immediately, hands uncurling and palms laid flat against his tensed thighs. “I just, uh, I...I don’t really know what to do.”

Heat scalds his cheeks at the mumbled confession, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes against the mirth his humiliation has painted across his boss’s face.

“You can do whatever you’d like,” Ayato responds, as if it’s that easy, that obvious. Amethyst eyes seach his face, and Thoma forces his spine to straighten, avoiding the temptation to hunch in on himself in a futile attempt to protect himself from his lord’s vying, prying gaze.

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

“My,” Ayato finally says. “I’ve hardly begun, yet you’re so hard you’re leaking through your pants. It’s...incredible.”

Thoma’s eyebrows knit in confusion, head shaking a little to indicate that he doesn’t understand. Incredible? It’s ignominious, is what it is.

But Ayato’s still observing him with that inquisitive gaze, eyes darting to your heaving body for a moment, still impaled by his cock and trying your best to keep from wiggling impatiently, before returning to Thoma’s face.

“Thoma,” he begins conversationally, and Thoma’s heart begins to pound, ribs rattling with the force. “Would you like a turn? I think it’s awfully selfish of me to keep her all to myself tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m sorry?” Thoma sputters as the question tangles on his tongue, eyes blinking rapidly with incredulity, head nudged forward as if he’s sure he’s just misheard his lord.

“I’m asking if you’d like to fuck her,” Ayato chuckles—a patronizing little sound that plays at the back of his throat, as if Thoma’s uncertainty is so cute—and Thoma flinches. It’s always so jarring to hear such a vile curse fall from the lips of such an elegant man.

“I—No, no, my lord, I could never, she—she’s yours, and—”

“You are, by all accounts, our guest this evening. I have invited you to stay, and I think it’d be rude of me not to offer you a turn,” he explains. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable with it,” Ayato adds at Thoma’s hesitance. “I am merely extending the invitation, should you wish to take it. But if you are content with just watching, that is perfectly fine, too.”

“I...Want to,” he slowly exhales the confession from his mouth after a stretch of ringing silence, eyes finding yours. “But...I—Is it alright?”

Mutely, you look towards your Daddy, something akin to distress saturating your features. Ayato frowns, shaking his head a little, and your lips mimic his own, eyebrows raising with incentive.

“Show her your cock,” Ayato demands after a moment of unspoken conversation.

The order startles Thoma, and he coughs around his response. “I, um—”

“Go on,” Ayato urges gently, violet eyes kind and trusting, disarming, that terrifying twinkle Ayato had never dared to turn on Thoma before tonight now replaced with that comforting familiarity his direct commands bring. “Show her your cock, and I promise you, she’ll say yes.”

It’s an odd request, and Thoma doesn’t fully understand it’s implications, but he obeys anyway.

Nodding to himself, Thoma shuffles closer to you, trembling hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, gracelessly shoving at it until it yields, allowing his cock to spring free.

It glistens in the dim glow of the lamplight, head smeared with precum and steadily drooling out pearlets, shaft pretty and pink and oh-so-perfect. You murmur something, soft and awe-stricken, and Thoma’s gaze snaps to your face.

“Hmm?”

“I said it’s really pretty,” you repeat, seemingly captivated, fingers flexing, as if you wish to touch. “It’s almost as pretty as Daddy’s.”

“Oh! Uh,” heat crawls up the back of his neck and he resists the urge to scratch at it, forcing his eyes to stay trained on your profile. “Thanks,”

“You like it, baby?” Ayato coos, brushing back a few strands of sweat-soaked hair from your temple. “You want it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, gazing up at Ayato before shifting your stare to Thoma, head nodding in dreamy little movements. “Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” Thoma asks for what seems like the umpteenth time tonight, powerless to keep the question from leaving his mouth, urgently requiring that explicit confirmation that this is real, that this is happening.

“Yeah,” you stare up at him with shimmering eyes, tongue sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and speaking around it. “Please, can I have it?”

Thoma’s body is moving the moment the bashful request tumbles from your lips, body gracefully replacing Ayato’s—who resigns himself to sitting near your head—and hips finding a snug place between your spread thighs, his cock bobbing with enthusiasm.

“So polite, my darling,” Ayato murmurs, and while the timbre in his voice is mocking, his eyes are soft, the pads of his fingertips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

A quiet noise of contentment vibrates at the back of your throat, and you lean into your Daddy’s touch, gaze filled to the brim with adoration, begging for more of his sugary approval.

The moment feels too intimate, and Thoma averts his eyes. The head of his cock bumps against your cute little hole a second later, selfishly drawing your attention back to him, and you whine a little, hips twitching downward in desperation.

“She hasn’t been allowed to cum on a cock in a while,” Ayato explains, still gazing at you with melted affection in his eyes, palm stroking your damp forehead. “I’m quite sure she’s exceptionally excited to have you inside her,”

For a moment, such a thought instils in Thoma a bold confidence, sparks of it zipping up his spine, straightening each vertebra as they pass.

But they fizzle just as fast as they ignited, leaving behind a special type of terror, an icy dread that seeps into his bones and submerges his brain.

What if he isn’t good enough?

While his cock is considerably thick—possibly slightly thicker than what you’re used to—he definitely isn’t as big as Ayato. Will he even be able to satisfy you at all, or will he only leave you with the sourness of disappointment and regret? Is he merely here to make an utter fool of himself by cumming so hard, so fast it’s piteous? It’s been an embarrassingly long time since the last time he’s had sex, what if—

“Thoma? What are you waiting for?”

Ayato’s voice yanks him from the snare of his own thoughts once again, his eyes flashing to his superior, worry written into the creases of his forehead. Frowning, Ayato blinks twice, imploring him to speak what’s currently infecting his mind.

“What’s wrong?”

And, oh, it’s so fucking embarrassing to have to say it aloud, to admit to all of his timorous thoughts of being wholly inadequate, eyes downcast as he mumbles out his concerns.

Unsurprisingly, Ayato laughs—something that isn’t quite nice, but isn’t quite mean, either, like candied condescension—and leans forward to clap a reassuring hand on Thoma’s shoulder.

“That is entirely okay,” he says, and Thoma’s brow furrows. “She doesn’t have to cum. You can just use her, if you’d like; she’d be happy with that, too,” he pauses, violet eyes flitting to your own and eliciting an obedient nod, as if to prove his point. “And then I’ll take care of the rest. Just enjoy yourself, Thoma.”

”But...But I—” Thoma’s nose wrinkles in distaste, and Ayato’s frown deepens. Reaching out, he takes the younger man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up to face him and holding it firmly in place.

Outwardly, Ayato appears as calm as the smooth, cool surface of an ice-glazed lake, but Thoma knows better. Thoma can see the impatience, the irritation, beginning to simmer just beneath that layer of polished frost; the blazing periwinkle that demands Thoma spit it out already, the infinitesimal flexing of his jaw, methodically pulsing in time with his even breaths; one, two, three, tense, hold, relax, one, two, three.

Clearing his throat, Thoma continues, ignoring the slight tremor sewn into his voice. “But I want to satisfy her, my lord.”

It’s hard not to grimace as the confession hangs thickly in the air between them, Ayato’s eyes clouding over with something undecipherable, something Thoma’s never experienced before. The look makes his skin crawl, little spikes of sweat erupting from his pores as he’s forced to hold his superior’s scalding gaze.

“Alright,” Ayato says after a moment of consideration, finally releasing Thoma’s chin. “I’ll show you how, briefly, and then we can get on with this. Sound reasonable?”

Thoma’s head is nodding, but Ayato doesn’t wait for an answer, moving towards the slighter man and taking Thoma’s hand between his large one, palm molding to the back as he pushes two of Thoma’s fingers down.

“It doesn’t take much,” Ayato’s saying, voice turned professional as he wraps his own fingers over Thoma’s folded ones, bringing their mess of hands to your fluttering cunt and beginning to insert them.

“Daddy!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut as your delicate flesh yields to the four fingers.

Ignoring you, Ayato continues in the same matter-of-fact lilt. “Her favourite spot is right here,” he curls his fingers, forcing Thoma’s to curl in conjunction, pressing their knuckles into a rough, swollen patch of tissue.

A loud, sharp cry rips itself from your chest, eyes springing open only to fall shut again as Ayato massages the spot, your hips instinctually grinding downward, desperate for more.

“If you can, try to rub your cock against it, like this,” Ayato folds their fingers halfway, forcing them to dig into your silky walls and move in long, slow strokes, each pass over that spot sending a borderline violent shudder rippling through your body.

“It’s very sensitive.” Ayato nudges the spot once more—a demonstration of sorts—before gently removing their fingers. “I trust that now that you know it’s location, you’ll have no trouble angling your hips to ensure your cockhead hits it, yes?”

If he doesn’t cum in the first ten seconds, maybe.

He has several additional questions—what type of thrust do you enjoy most? Is there a particular pace that you like the best?—but Ayato is done teaching.

You seem to be getting restless, too, Thoma’s name falling from your lips in the sweetest little whimpers. “Thoma, Thoma, please, give me your cock, please,”

You sound so fucking needy, almost bordering on bratty as you reach for him, hips wiggling, thighs straining as they spread wider. Cavernous pupils shine in the low light, eyes glazed over with sugared desire and half-lidded with lust.

And finally, finally, Thoma snaps.

His body’s moving before he’s even made the conscious decision to, primal instinct surging through his blood, overwhelming his body and overriding his mind, and he growls, using his sharp hips to keep your thighs spread wide.

It’s all automatic impulse now, rational thought drowned by animalistic urges and sheer desire, that burning need he had been so desperately attempting to suppress, to control, finally erupting, flames of it burning through his veins, incinerating all previous trepidation.

And then he’s shoving his cock into you, moaning at the way your flesh yields to him, submits to him, opens up for him, stretching and splitting to accommodate his girth.

Just one swift, sharp thrust is all it takes to have him buried to the hilt, cockhead pressed snugly against your sensitive cervix. His hips shove forward further, knocking a gasp from your throat, cockhead grinding in slow, hard circles against the mound of tissue.

“Th-Thoma!” you nearly wheeze, little fingers tangling in the cotton of his t-shirt, nails piercing through the thin material and leaving fine, ragged lines of red in the muscles of his back. “Hurts!”

“Oh, you can take it,” Ayato chastises lightly, speaking over the deep growl rumbling in Thoma’s chest. It’s incredible, how calm his lord sounds, how entirely unaffected he seems to be, tone kept conversational, as if none of this matters in the slightest.

But Thoma’s barely listening; Thoma barely cares at this point, ears buzzing and vision blurred by pure lust, this insatiable craving he had tried so hard to deny, to erase, to restrain, so fierce it has dulled all of his senses to anything other than you.

Leaning back slightly, he hooks a hand under each of your knees and pushes up, up, up until your knees nudge your shoulders, legs folded up on either side of your body.

“Be a—Be a good girl and hold yourself open for me, yeah?”

It’s supposed to be an instruction, a demand, but it comes out whiny and full of yearning, voice already wrecked and mangled in his throat. If he were in his right mind, he’d be horrified by how eager, how utterly desperate he sounds. Yet he doesn’t pay it any mind at all, the breathy plead that practically dribbled from his lips like dollops of thick honey, too focused on fucking you for it to be of any importance.

With a singular, shaky exhale, his hips draw back, slow and steady, the smooth sculpted muscles in his arms flexing with the strain as he hovers above you, stilling for just a moment before he’s fucking back into you, his thrust harsh enough to send your entire body skidding against the wood beneath you, setting a ruthless pace from the start.

Each pound of his hips is more brutal than the last, each ramming fractured sobs and pitched mewls of his name from your chest, each forceful enough to shove Ayato’s heavy desk a few inches forward with every plunge into you, mahogany wood scraping against the floorboards.

It must be hurtful for you, each slam of his cockhead against your cervix, each drag of his shaft against that spot, your features twisted in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure; eyebrows scrunched and eyes squeezed shut, mouth lolling open and tongue flopping about, lips slicked sheen with spit, drool oozing from the corners of your mouth to drip in viscous beads along your jaw.

It’s fucking beautiful, the most immaculate piece of art Thoma has ever witnessed, experienced, had a hand in creating.

“You like that, huh?” he’s nearly spitting at you, words sandwiched between ragged pants. “It’s good?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re chanting, head nodding in quick little motions as your eyes drift back, eyelashes fluttering prettily.

“Tell me,” he keens, voice shattered by his razored breaths. “Tell me how much you like my cock,”

And although his tone borders on begging, his eyes are sharp and blazing with ardor, his chest heaving with exertion, strands of golden hair saturated in sweat and clinging to his forehead, his temples, his neck.  

“Your cock is so good, Thoma,” you nearly wail. “I love it—I-I love it s’much!”

A groan vibrates in his chest, his eyes shutting tightly before springing open again, shuddering out a breathy little, “Yeah?” in time with the next drive forward of his hips.

“Uh—Uh-huh, so big, fills me up so good, can feel you in my tummy, Thoma,”

The resulting whine that catches in his throat, pitched high and desperate, is absolutely pathetic—though you don’t seem to think so, cute little cunt pulsing around his cock in response.

“Lemme feel, baby—ah, fuck—lemme feel,”

A large hand splays itself on your gut, his hips never once faltering as he presses down, a loud cry falling from his lips as the tip of his cock nudges his palm through your flesh.

“God,” he breathes. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your dainty hand lays itself atop of his, soft palm pressing down harder, forcing him to feel the bulge of his cock buried inside of you again, a choked moan strangling itself in his throat as the arm supporting his weight begins to quiver.

He can tell that you’re getting close now, whole body beginning to tremble beneath his own, little fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you force yourself open wider for him.

Ayato can tell, too.

“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name drenched in saccharine condescension. “Are you going to show Thoma how very pretty you look, creaming all over his cock?”

You can barely speak, too fucked out to manage anything other than the stammered stream of Yes, Daddy’s and Can I, please Daddy?’s flowing from your mouth.

Ayato gives you his murmured permission—a gentle Go ahead, princess—and then you’re complying, convulsing cunt gushing all over Thoma’s cock, a tangle of his name and your Daddy’s jumbled on your tongue, a mess of letters so intertwined that they’ve become one unintelligible word.

“Good girl,” Ayato breathes, and that’s the first time Thoma has heard him sound affected by anything all night.

Thoma’s thrusts are getting sloppy now, devolved into frantic and uneven jackhammering that gains more speed with each snap forward, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your veins, vibrations spiking with each pump of his hips.

He can feel his own orgasm simmering in the pit of his stomach, rising higher and higher with every weak throb of your over-sensitive cunt, growing hotter and hotter with every noise he manages to fuck out of you until it’s finally boiling over, up his throat and out his mouth and—

“Oh, oh god, oh, Aya—my lord, I—I’m gonna—Can I—Can I—” And, truthfully, Thoma isn’t sure whether he’s asking if he can cum, or if he can cum inside his master’s favourite plaything.

But he doesn’t have to decide; Ayato does that for him.

Humming in contemplation, amethyst eyes shift from Thoma to you, Ayato’s head tilting slightly. “Would you like his cum, princess?”

Your response is immediate, bleary eyes snapping to Ayato’s face, head nodding enthusiastically. “Oh gosh, Daddy, yes, yes, I want his cum, yes!”

“F-Fuck,” Thoma whimpers, hips stuttering with the shudder of his breath.

“You can cum inside, Thoma,” Ayato grants him permission, voice soft as a silk blanket that envelopes him, caressing his cheek as it drapes itself across his shoulders—a warm, familiar embrace of encouragement, of praise, of approval.

“Th-Thank you, my lord,”

“I want it, Thoma,” you’re whimpering beneath him, blinking up at him with filmy eyes, words drowning in muddled pools of spit collecting in the dips and crevices of your mouth. “I want it, I-I want it, give it to me,”

“Greedy girl,” Ayato scolds with a disapproving click of his tongue, demeanour changed in an instant. “Ask nicely,”

Turning your glassy gaze back on Thoma, you stare up at him like he’s some sort of fucking god, eyes glistening with potent want, an indescribable craving that manifests as pleads spilling from your mouth.

“Thoma, Thoma, please give me your cum, please, fill me up with it, stuff me full of it, I want it so bad, Thoma, pretty please!” you practically cough out, the sentiment fractured by hiccups and gurgled together at the back of your throat, words flowing in one continuous sob.

It’s all so fucking hot, so fucking wrong, so fucking delicious, and the whine that claws it’s way past his lips and rips through his gasping breaths is nothing short of gorgeous, pitched high and cracked with pleasure, with desire.

“Give my princess what she wants, Thoma,” Ayato says, and although it’s phrased as a statement, it’s clearly an order, and Thoma’s good at following those.

Three more pistons of his hips and he’s obeying his master. It’s vicious, the shudder that tears through Thoma’s body as his cock throbs, filling you to the brim with scalding, thick cum, so much so that it’s begun to leak out of your cunt, smeared all over Thoma’s cock and your inner thighs, pearly glops of it drooling down your ass to collect in a puddle on Ayato’s desk.

Black darkens the edges of his vision, a pair of strong hands catching him just before he collapses on top of you, Ayato leaning Thoma against his chest, his cheek snug against the crook of his lord’s neck, exhaling uneven little pants of breath against his skin.

Everything feels hazy, like time has slowed, seconds dripping by as if they were hours, the gentle, repetitive rhythm of Ayato’s fingers through Thoma’s hair keeping him grounded in this reality.

“Come here, baby,” Ayato murmurs, holding his free arm out towards you and inviting you to crawl sluggishly towards him. You allow yourself to be wrapped up in your Daddy’s embrace, head finding purchase on Thoma’s damp chest, clinging to the both of them.

“You did so well,” Ayato whispers, punctuating his praise with chaste kisses to the crown of your head. “You both did so well, I’m so proud of you. You were both so good for me.”

And, well, all either of you ever want to be is good for him.