— How To Woo The Acting Grand Sage 101

WAKING UP TO THEIR EMBRACE !

synopis: waking up to their embrace after staying at their place last night.

characters: childe, diluc, itto, kaeya, kazuha, xiao, zhongli

content warnings: suggestive + gn!reader

childe: when you wake up with sleepy eyes after coming home, to childe’s apartment you feel a loose arm around your waist. already noticing that the dull eyes have been staring at you before you had awaken. you cannot help but get flustered, as he presses a kiss to your head.

diluc: your back would be to his chest while he holds you by your waist, sleeping and nuzzled deep into your hair. he loved your aroma and scent and adored it so much. waking up to him is nice and cozy because he hardly snores and he usually wakes up after you do to say good morning.

itto: waking up to him is basically like being held by a huge teddy bear. he does snore a bit in the morning but perhaps it’s a sound you can get accustomed too. though if you wake up before him, he’ll just encourage you to go back to sleep.

kaeya: waking up to him feels like a short blessing, because he is so warm and hearing him praise and flirt with you at dawn is like the cherry on top. though a majority of the time his flirty comments makes you nervous so you end up burying your head into his shoulder.

kazuha: he always holds you upon his chest carefully, stroking the strands of your hair and saying good morning once your eyes meet the sun peaking through the windows. he’ll ask simple questions and always asking if you wanted to catch breakfast with him.

xiao: he generally likes to watch you fall asleep but the temptation and the urge to hold you, is way too strong which is why you awake in the morning to him pressing your head upon his chest while he tells you to go back to bed and kisses your forehead.

zhongli: oh archons, he is so gentle. he holds you very carefully and softly, making sure that you are safe in his warmth and embrace. he either has your head placed on his chest or shoulder to guarantee you comfort.

A fan since day one…

There to Hold You(Bakugo Katsuki)

synopsis: reader is overwhelmed and has been keeping everything to themselves. Bakugo hates this, and won’t let them self isolate. a/n: this is incredibly self indulgent but I hope this is as comforting to read as it was to write

cw: crying, being overwhelmed, insecurity and overthinking, idk what else, lemme know if I missed something

——————————————————————————————————

“Something’s wrong.” Katsuki stated, the same way one might say ‘the sky is blue.’

“What makes you think so?” You turned around in your chair to look at your boyfriend. You gave him your most earnest smile, trying to not let happen what he was trying to do. 

You had carefully constructed walls to keep your worst emotions away from people, you had to handle them yourself. You couldn’t rely on anyone else. If Katsuki ever knew how you truly thought and felt, you’d be too much, he wouldn’t be able to handle you, he wouldn’t love you, he’d leave you. 

“Cut the crap. F/n told me you haven’t spoke to them in days, and you aren’t the type for that shit.” He said, studying your face for any kind of response.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “They said they messaged you and you didn’t respond. You always respond to everyone immediately, so something has to be wrong.” 

“I’m okay ‘Suki. I’ve just… had a little extra on my plate lately, but I’m alright I swear,” you tried to assure him, even though each word was an absolute lie. 

He squinted. Although impulsive, Katsuki Bakugo is not stupid. Especially not when it comes to you. He may have been a little more aggressive because he was frustrated at himself for not noticing something was off sooner, but he wanted to help you. Because he loves you, and he wants to help you the way you helped and continue to help him. He grabbed your shoulders, making eye contact with you, trying to pry the truth from your eyes. 

You looked away, ashamed and not wanting to spill it all. Insecurity chipped away at you. You were positive he wouldn’t love you if he knew how bad the storm in your mind had gotten. How deep the waters were. 

“No, you’re not alright, dumbass. You’ve been acting overly happy lately, but you’ve been distant. You’re good at putting on an ‘I’m fine’ face, sometimes too damn good, but your eyes are so empty,” admitting his worry for you almost made him want to tear up. 

But he couldn’t, he had to get to the bottom of this. He knew, he personally knew what it was like to keep everything in, to never feel able to tell anyone, to be drowning in your own feelings, thoughts, and troubles. He knew what it was like to keep it all to yourself until you snapped, until you felt beyond repair, until it was too much and impossible to feel sane. And he wouldn’t let that happen to you. 

You shook your head. “Please just drop it, Katsuki, I’m busy, I don’t have time for this,” why was he trying so hard? You had convinced yourself no one cared, no one would care. 

He moved his hands from your shoulders to your face, making you look at him. “I can see that something is wrong, and I refuse to let you deal with it by yourself. You’re only going to make it worse if you don’t tell me. Please,” he said, voice nearly breaking. “Please, tell me. I hate seeing you pretend like you’re okay. We both promised to work on our communication. You’ve seen me at my lowest, and you helped me through it, you loved me when I was a moody, arrogant shitty teen. Why would your problems be any different? I promise you, I won’t judge you for it. You can’t get rid of me. So please, y/n, please. Tell me what’s wrong. Please talk to me,” he was nearly pleading at this point.

You felt your eyes well up with tears. Damn it, you had worked so hard at constructing your walls, but he was bringing them down. Why was he so good at this? You had to divert the attention away from yourself. “Oh? It seems I have the hero Dynamight begging. One would consider this an accomplishment,” you said with a forced giggle. 

“Don’t give me that shit. Don’t do this to me, to yourself,” his tone was softer than you’d ever heard it before, emotion sitting in the back. 

A calloused thumb stroked your cheek. It was a small, mundane, minimal act of affection, but yet it made your emotions go haywire. You looked up, meeting his gaze finally, and it broke you. He looked so genuine. A single tear fell, and that was the drop that made the dam break. The walls cracked, and cracked, and all that you had stored up, kept away carefully, came rushing down. Before you knew it, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 

Katsuki felt odd for being happy that you were crying, but he was relieved you finally let it out. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, carefully lifting you to stand. One arm remained wrapped around you, while the other moved to hold the back of your head, carefully bringing your face to rest on his chest. Every sob chipped away at his heart. It had been months since you cried like this, and the last time you did you were alone. It was all so much, you felt as if you were going to crumble to pieces.

But Katsuki held onto you the whole time, though you fell apart he held the pieces in his arms. He didn’t tell you that it’s okay, or that you’re okay, because it’s plain to see that you aren’t, but he repetitively reassured you that he’s here, and he won’t leave. His muscular arms held you close to his heart while you cried it out. You’d been keeping it in for so long, you didn’t even realize all the things you were feeling. It hurt, and it hurt badly. Hurts, pains, stresses, all your grievings flowed like your tears. 

Katsuki pressed the occasional small kiss to your head, gentle reminders that he’s with you. He was never one to be very good with words, and though he’s tried to get better at it, he hoped his shows of affection through acts would be enough to convey to you that he cares. Because he cares so much, so much he can barely contain it, he feels so angry when you feel like this, not at you, not towards you, but angry that he can’t fistfight your feelings so they go away. He began to slowly rock you while you stood, protected by his hold. Had you not been in such a sour state, you would have smiled at this action. 

After what felt like quite awhile, all your tears had dried up, and your body began to feel tired. Though you were resting against him this whole time, your body relaxed more as you became more tired. All the crying you had done zapped your energy. When he recognized this, Katsuki led you to your shared bedroom where he motioned for you to sit on the bed. 

“I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?” He said firmly.

You nodded. You felt so drained after your crying session, but yet a little bit lighter. You didn’t want to admit that Katsuki holding you while you let out your emotions helped, but it really did. While you were comforted by the knowledge of him reassuring you the whole time you cried, your insecurities didn’t go away. Your heart told you that you could trust him, and you knew he loves you, but your mind made you doubt. What if it was all an act? If you actually spoke your mind, vocalized your thoughts and feelings, would that be the end of it for your relationship? 

“Oi, dumbass. Drink up. You’ll get dehydrated,” Katsuki’s voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

You looked up, and he was handing you a glass of water. You accepted it, taking a few sips before setting it on the nightstand. The blond man took a seat next to you on the bed, slinging his arm around your shoulders, and pulling you closer to him.

“You were thinking. What is it?” 

As you stated at him, tears filled your eyes again, and Katsuki carefully wiped them away with calloused fingers. “I’m just… afraid. What if you think I’m too much? What if you can’t handle my problems? I don’t want to be left, what if-“

“Hey. Cut that shit out. I won’t do any of that, and that’s a promise. When have I ever broken my promises, hm?” 

You smiled faintly. “Never.”

“Exactly. Now tell me what’s going on.”

While you explained, he listened. He’d always listen, and he’d always be there. When you had finished, he gave his two cents, with a fair share of curses. You sighed contentedly. Katsuki was awkward at times, blunt, rash, and could be a little rough around the edges, but his stubbornness wasn’t always a bad thing. He never failed to show you how much he cared. His love for you was so strong it was nearly tangible, like a thread in the air you could almost reach out and grab it. No matter what you were dealing with, he would always be there. While he is a pro hero, he’s not a magician, so he wouldn’t be able to make all your problems disappear, as much as he wishes he could. Sometimes, he couldn’t do anything about the storms raging in your head, but he was there, always there, and that’s all that mattered. As long as you had him to hold you, you’d be content. He’d always be there to drag you out of your isolation, your loneliness.  It wasn’t long before you fell asleep in his arms, and Katsuki would not let you go, even after he himself fell asleep. It was his way of saying “I love you.”

put a ring on it.

premise. snippets of daily life between a humble servant and an increasingly clingy master.

word count. 5.4k

note. reader full of snark + dumbass in love ayato = gratuitous amount of banter. i have to say that ayato never goes out of line though, and you're not actually bothered by his advances; you're just a massive tsundere.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

“Is that so?”

The noncommittal response pointedly marks the end of his acknowledgement as Ayato makes no effort to sit up, remaining slumped against your frame. His head rests upon your shoulder, a ticklish sensation blooming where your neck and chin meet. Light blue hair trail prickling heat where it grazes your skin, an itch you can't quite scratch away.

Even so, the discomfort doesn't reflect on your face, frigid expression carefully layered with blankness. His sinking weight fails to impede your immaculate posture, refined poise a great disparity from his leisurely disposition. It paints an odd picture, the ordinarily faultless heir lacking decorum—though granted the freedom to do as he wishes in the private confines of his room, it is a mystery why a servant such as you is... graciously permitted to bask in his exclusive company. In the private confines of his room. You feel the need to emphasize that detail.

In his hands lay a scroll concerning governmental affairs, urgent matters that demand his attention, so you can't begin to comprehend why he insists on using this time to harass reward a lowly attendant with his valuable presence when there is business to attend to.

He leans more of his weight to your side, and he—you nearly sputter indignantly—mimics an action that can almost be described as nuzzling. “Mhm. This is convenient for me, since I've hardly found the time to rest today. Do you find it intolerable?”

Ignoring the last bit, you advise, “Perhaps it would be more effective if you were to rest in your chambers. I will come call when the Kanjou Commission asks for you.”

He pretends to consider it for a moment, the silence filled with the quiet jingle of wind chimes. But predictably, the corners of his mouth hook up to an impish smile. “I would prefer to stay, if you don't mind?”

Resigned to your fate, you can only say, “Of course not, my lord.”

For reasons you cannot fathom, the head of the Kamisato household harbors a strong attachment to you.

In normal circumstances, this fact would be taken as great news; presently, you are little more than puzzled and unfeeling. Rather than delight, dread stirs in your stomach whenever he calls your name in a volume louder than necessary—a conscious decision, you presume, since he seems to interact with other servants just fine. Curt and polite, keeping his words concise, preventing further delay from addressing his responsibilities.

Had you not known better, you wouldn't be able to identify him as the same man who indulges in trivialities when he invites you to share snacks, engaging in frivolous chatter over tea and pastries. With increasing frequency nonetheless, and with varying refreshments each time to boot, an assortment of exquisite wagashi produced only by the best. Strawberry daifuku on one tea break, mizu-yokan on the next, sakura mochi on the day after that... You've been serving him for a considerable amount of time, but he's never been much of a sweet tooth until as of late.

Ayato hums thoughtfully, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. “The mild flavor is pleasant. I believe it might be to your liking.”

He offers you a cup, steam curling above the warm brew. The pink beverage glistens beneath the sunlight, rippling with movement when you take it into your hands. It doesn't require much thinking to conclude the tea leaves must've cost a fortune, but it leaves you plenty of questions just as well. Why would a benefactor give you a taste of luxury?

But you would be a fool not to appreciate it while it lasts, so you lift the cup for a sip.

The flavor of spring bursts in your mouth, fragrant and tasting of sweet nectar. Your frosty guise wavers under the bribery, bliss crossing your face before your lips quirk up to a small, almost imperceptible smile.

Deeming your elated reaction satisfactory, Ayato nudges the plate of confections towards your side of the table. “Eat. They pair well with the tea.”

Who are you to say no to your lord? Therefore, the correct choice must be to accept his gifts with gratitude!

(Distracted by desserts, you fail to see his amusement in the way you stuff your cheeks full adorably like a chipmunk.

But he's aware it's not the right time yet, so he suppresses the urge to pinch your face.)

Kamisato Ayato is often praised for his intellect and cunning mind, but sometimes you wonder if he'd finally gone stupid. It was only a matter of time.

“My hand feels cold,” he laments, as if he hadn't chucked away his gloves ten seconds prior. “Can I hold yours for a moment?”

Ayaka, for her part, looks ashamed on her brother's behalf. With a graceful flick of her wrist, her fan snaps open and obscures the mortified expression on her face. Thoma's bottom lip quivers, valiantly repressing his bubbling laughter though he turns quite ugly in the process.

Sending a prayer to the heavens, you hope your face looks as unreadable as you think it to be. “...I'll fetch you a pair of gloves,” you say, side-stepping the pair he just abandoned on the floor.

“Mhm. That won't be necessary,” he counters, tugging on the edge of your sleeve. “You see, I heard those granted Pyro Visions have warmer body temperature...”

That is undoubtedly a lie he conjures up on the spot.

“...So I was hoping to sate my curiosity today,” he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself. Ayaka avoids your gaze when your eyes sweep past her (she absolutely knows it's an idiotic idea because going by that logic, she should have a colder temperature... but that is obviously not the case), and Thoma is blatantly ignoring your requests for assistance, whistling an awkward tune.

You have half a mind to shift the responsibility to another retainer similarly bearing a Pyro Vision, who is currently trying his hardest to stifle his pained grunts when you pinch his forearm admonishingly, but there's really no way out of this. Ayato would certainly craft another bullshit reason to coax you anyway. (A part of you thinks it might be fun to keep up the charade just to hear what he'll say next.)

You hold up your hand, and Ayato's eyes flicker with mischief. His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, brushing over the jut of your bone. He marvels at the size of it, dwarfed by his large hands, and he curls his fingers tighter.

...He doesn't seem to be assessing your temperature.

But you are mindful of his, a searing heat devouring your senses. His light touches settle heavily on your skin, a prominent warmth amidst the cold gale. Where his fingers rest leave imprints of fire, trails of scorched ash in his wake.

Experimentally, his thumb rubs circles on your palm, tracing over the lines. He rolls the soft flesh, staring at the small cuts and calluses with an attentive eye. Burning the image into his mind. Fiddling with the shape of your fingers. Then, following a brief hitch of his breath, he fits his own in the spaces between yours.

His hand is soft, you think to yourself. Without the presence of leather, it is fully bare, pale and dusted with pink. His knuckles are pronounced, palm surprisingly unscarred in spite of vigorous sword practice, but a writer's callus lays on his ring finger. It is easy to imagine his frame hunched over his desk, pen between his fingers, ink running dry from writing back to missives and signing endless contracts.

(And responding to engagement offers. You would know. They clutter his workspace, scented letters branded by wax seals of a distinguished family's emblem.

He barely throws a cursory glance at them before giving his never changing answer.)

When he gives your hand a squeeze, you finally ask, “Is it warm?”

“Yes.” He sounds somewhat strangled, there, less confident than he was before he took your hand. “Very warm.”

He reluctantly parts with it, stepping back to reduce your close proximity. Ayaka fans herself as she scrutinizes his reddening complexion, and Thoma—partial to the lord, you see, even though he wasn't very eager to lend you a hand before—makes some excuse about a meeting he has to attend to (some beetle fight with Itto, most likely) and if you'd kindly excuse their presence.

“...Please pardon my brother's strange behavior,” Ayaka murmurs when only the both of you remain in the room. “He could be quite straightforward when his curiosity is piqued. He doesn't have weird intentions, really.”

She doesn't appear to believe it herself, but you appreciate her attempts to clean up Ayato's mess.

“It's no trouble, milady.” You flash a placating smile for good measure, reaching down to collect the discarded gloves Thoma nearly tripped on in his way out. “But I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now as well...”

“Yes, of course! You may go.”

Following her affirmation, you scramble to take a duster and retreat to clean the library.

At least she doesn't comment on your flushed cheeks and colored ears. Small mercies. (There's only so much composure you can exhaust within one day.)

For all that you (privately) complain about the extensive list of chores to tackle in the Kamisato Estate, you find tending to the garden fairly enjoyable. Alas, you can't exactly spend the whole day pruning the shrubbery; the smile on your face drops when you're sent to go on a shopping trip. Worse still, with no one to assist you in carrying the groceries. Thoma has already promised to accompany Ayaka for a mission, and everyone else is busy preparing for the Kamisato head's upcoming business trip.

Said Kamisato head is apparently “free” and “has the spare time to help” despite being the one who should be busy holing himself up in his office.

Regardless of your protests, Ayato insists on tagging along to the market. Which brings you to your current situation, your employer dutifully carrying bundles of cloth and a basket of radishes and carrots with an easygoing smile, while your hands remain empty. He is... considerate, if you were to speak in flowery words. He is stubborn, if you were to be blunt.

However, he is relatively obedient, save for the handful of times he rushes off to chase something that caught his eye. As a result, he keeps purchasing cheap trinkets he'll probably have no use for and his pocket is brimming of candy he sometimes stuffs your mouth with when you have something to scold him for. (To be fair, it's very effective for shutting you up.)

“Please don't interrupt me from speaking,” your words are partly muffled, mouth still chewing on the confection. Ayato smiles innocently, pressing another piece of sugar to your lips.

“Where are we headed next?” He questions, looking around the bustling streets as he tucks the jar of konpeito candy in his sleeve. “Do you still have vegetables you need to buy?”

You shake your head. “No, the cook said he's only missing radishes and carrots in particular. I've also gotten the materials needed to mend clothes Thoma asked for.”

He deflates at that, disappointment painting his expression. “I suppose we're returning, then?”

You purse your lips, considering your options. It isn't like you were told to come back an appointed time, and you could always blame Ayato for your tardiness... “Does my lord wish to visit anywhere specifically?”

The river of stars in his eyes twinkle ever so slightly, flashing a thinly-veiled childish gleam. “Not anything I could think of at the top of my head. Do you have any recommendations in mind?”

“Recommendations?”

“Places you like to visit.”

During your free time, you usually look around to shop for clothing or accessories... but they're nowhere near the quality befitting of nobles. The yukata isn't tailored to your size, made from cheaper cloth of cotton, and aren't as decorative to what your lord is used to; it's what makes it affordable. Whereas Ayato is often dressed in luxurious silks, embellished with golden thread and customized to his liking.

“It's no harm to bring you there... I guess.” You scratch your cheek. “Though I can't guarantee you'll like it.”

“Nonsense.” He smiles amicably. He reaches for the basket before you can grab it, gesturing for you to start walking. “I'm sure I'll have a good time regardless where it is.”

And... he does. He marvels at the extravagant brocades displayed at boutiques, wondering how one could possibly wear so many heavy layers. Though he doesn't buy clothes for himself, he decides to buy a cute purse he thinks his sister would appreciate.

Ayato expresses interest in ornaments and cosmetics as well, to which the shop owner proceeds to happily introduce her entire catalogue for a man she knows has deep pockets. He doesn't disappoint.

“You don't want anything?” He asks when you only answer his questions pertaining to Ayaka's preferences, two steps behind, never taking the opportunity to roam and search for potential additions in your wardrobe.

It's not that you haven't seen anything you'd like to take home, per se. More like everything is too expensive for your pocket money in this high-end portion of town. “No,” you say instead, because it's easier to explain that way.

He tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't push the topic. “Help me choose a hair pin then. You know what fits Ayaka best.”

He leads you to the display case housing rows of hair ornaments, each one more remarkable than the next. The last one, undoubtedly the most costly whose price would make you weep, teeters on the edge of gaudy. Adorned with silver butterflies, tear drop sapphires, gems delicately shaped like dewy petals and white pearls sitting atop carved gold, they almost blind your eyes.

“...She'd look beautiful in everything,” is the conclusion you come to, because you speak nothing but the truth. “But please don't buy everything. She will get mad at you.”

“I know,” he sighs. “That's why I needed your help picking one.”

You almost drill holes to the items with how hard you're staring at them, but you eventually point at the pin with pink blossoms. “This would contrast nicely with her hair.”

“Mhm. If you say so,” he hums approvingly, tracing the sculpted leaves.

“Then if that's all, I'll go pay...”

“Ah, which reminds me.” He spins on his heel to face you, lips shaped into an apologetic smile. “I'm nearly running out of parchment paper. Could you stop by the stationery store up front? I'll handle things from here and meet you by the entrance.”

“Of course, my lord.”

On your way outside, you resolutely do not allow your curious gaze to steer towards the tables of sparkling jewelry.

--

The trip back to the estate is uneventful, and the rest of the afternoon passes like any other.

Perhaps the only inconsistency in your repetitive days is the accidental nap you fall into, blanketed in warm rays of sunshine and caressed by the refreshing breeze slipping past ajar doors, your cheek resting on the surface of the table you were supposed to be cleaning. How uncouth of me, you think as you wipe your mouth to check for signs of drool. Your only respite is not having anyone witness you in such a state, otherwise you would've long been rudely awakened and received an earful of chastising.

...Is what you think, until you spot a foreign ring you definitely do not recall putting on.

It curls around your finger, dotted with crystals in a hue of blue you're all too familiar with. You see it everyday, gleaming in mischief, darkening with intrigue. Framed by long, long lashes, crinkling at the corners when filled with mirth. Crashing torrents that freeze in displeasure yet inexplicably gentle the moment they meet your eyes, akin to gentle sea waves that pad to your feet.

(You wonder if this is why he insisted on touching your hands so much, just to roughly measure your ring size.)

“I hope you fare well during my absence. Fear not, I will do my best not to prolong my leave.”

The way his words sound so self-assured and full of conviction doesn't sit well with you, and the genuine pity reflected in his irises almost makes your eyebrow twitch. You haven't even spoken a word before he began his theatrics.

“Take as long as you need,” you reassure him. “My lord mustn't rush his work.”

He wilts, but he perks right back up, “No need to put up a front. I'll come back for you.”

Incorrigible.

“Then I await your safe return.” You bow deeply as you swallow back a sigh of defeat, the other servants lined up on either side of the street moving accordingly.

“Please be careful,” Ayaka bids when she walks in front of him. “I've heard of bandits intercepting carriages to steal... I don't mean to undermine your abilities, but you should still be vigilant of trouble.”

Ayato laughs at that. “You don't have to worry, Ayaka. They'll sooner surrender before they lay a single scratch on me.” Glancing at the supplies being loaded on his carriage, he grimaces slightly. “I better get going. I'll see you all in three weeks.”

He climbs to the interior, giving you a final smile before closing the door. You stare at the carriage until it fully disappears, the trotting of horses out of earshot. When Thoma begins to walk back to the estate, you fall into step with him, matching his strides.

“The lord hasn't left for this long in a while,” he comments, to which you hum in agreement. “Think you'll miss him?”

“Three weeks is hardly a long time,” you retort back, complacent for the rare period of peace to follow the next month. “He'll return in no time, as if he'd never been gone in the first place.”

Thoma eyes you strangely at that, but says no more. “If you say so.”

--

The first day is bliss. No disruptions in your work, no unwanted conversation partner as a distraction, no midnight snacks needed to be prepared for the clan head a weird mix between workaholic and slacker.

The second day proves to be the same. No incessant chatter in your ear as you sweep the floor, no complaints for a stack of paperwork to be done within the day, no sudden requests of a shoulder massage for a job well done deserving of a reward.

The third day, you feel like your schedule is lacking, blank spots of free time sprinkled in between.

Ah, right. The tea breaks.

You tell yourself you only miss the fragrant tea, the selection of treats given to you by the young master's generosity. Not his thoughtful commentary for the taste, the chuckles spilling from his lips when you respond to his quips, the brief moments of eye contact before you resume your respective duties.

The fourth day, you're sent to hang the laundry. You tell yourself you don't miss a certain someone's abrupt appearance, poking a head through the sheets to startle you, huffing bright peals of laughter when he attains his desired reaction.

The fifth day, the cook requests your help to prep dinner. My lord doesn't like this dish, the sentence almost leaves your tongue as your eyes track down the recipe when you remember right, he's not here, and milady likes this dish, so it's one of the few chances she gets to eat it.

The sixth day, you clean his office. You organize the account books, restock his collection of pens and paper, and shuffle through his mail to sort them by category (definitely not noting down the number of letters asking for his hand in marriage). Your face flushes slightly when an unassuming bookmark falls out of a book you pick up from the floor, familiar flowers pressed thinly to fit between the pages. (You have only given those flowers on a whim, plucking fresh blossoms from plants you grew outside the Kamisato's garden. You didn't think he'd keep it around; they're not nearly as fancy as what his family owns.)

By the seventh day, you begin to doubt the calendar. There is no way it's only been a single week.

--

“How do I look?”

“Positively charming,” is your dry answer.

“You're not looking.”

Your eyes flit to Thoma's attire. “I am.”

He shakes his head, taking off the robes he's been trying on. “You're always daydreaming nowadays. What are you thinking about?”

Reminiscing the last time you visited this clothing store, which is when you brought the young master in your shopping trip, and also presumably when he bought the ring for you. Recently, you've taken to pondering over the specifics; did he commission it beforehand? But how would he have known for certain you'd be visiting the store that day to give it to you later that afternoon? You were only planning to get groceries... Unless he was planning to give it another time? If so, in what occasion did he want to present it as a gift? What prompted him to give it to you earlier? ...Did he see your longing gaze on the jewelry?!

No, no, no, you made sure none of that showed on your face... Did he mean to give it to you that day? He somehow predicted you'd cave to his whims and show him around town? Then when you were gone, he retrieved the ring he commissioned, hitting two birds with one stone in a single trip?

...Knowing your sly lord, the idea isn't so far-fetched to be unbelievable...

To this day, you have yet to solve the mystery. But Thoma doesn't need to know your current musings. You shake your head. “It's nothing. Are you buying it?”

“Since you kindly gave an approving opinion, sure.” His tone drips with sarcasm as he takes out his money pouch, paying for the clothes. “I think I don't need the answer from you, actually. I'm confident I have an accurate guess.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Who else would linger in your mind?” Thoma sighs in dramatic fashion, stepping out of the premises with you not far behind. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.”

Bristling, you vehemently refute, “I'm not thinking inappropriately of the lord, if that's what you're implying.”

“I didn't mention any names.”

“But you clearly meant him.”

He holds up his hands. “If that's what you want to believe, suit yourself.”

His gaze drops to the ring wrapped around your finger. The ring has been a topic of interest for the gossip mongers within the estate, wondering who you could've received it from; what other implications can wearing a ring have? Your cold exterior is no secret, your heart guarded with thorns, so who was able to sweep you off your feet in the end?

Thoma only needed one look at the shade of blue to make a correct guess.

“...I'm sure at this point, you know of his intentions,” Thoma says slowly. “And I have plenty of reasons to believe his affections aren't entirely unrequited.”

If they were, you would have brushed off Ayato already, just like you always do with the others. He may be persistent, but he knows how to back off. Yet the most you do is sigh and spoil him, albeit in (fond) exasperation.

“Even if they aren't...” You fidget with the hem of your shirt, averting your gaze from his blazing eyes, “...it doesn't mean we'll work. I'm certain he has better prospects for a spouse, anyway.”

“You mean those daughters from noble families?” He snorts. “He'd barely give them the time of day before running back to you. You should know that by now. Don't you remember when he faked being sick in that lunch meeting so you could take care of him?”

Of course you do. He had pretended to be in a dizzy spell, collapsing on your shoulder and making furtive hand signals asking for your help to get the lovesick maiden off his back. There really is no way to reject people like her without offending his business associate, so he tended to evade confrontations in roundabout ways.

You could excuse his clingy behavior out of necessity; it would be disgraceful to collapse on the floor, after all. The problem lies with the aftermath where you had already steered clear of the trouble but he insists on requiring treatment, body calculatively feeble as he gives you woeful pleas.

In another world, perhaps this would've been a heart-rending experience: a cold man who didn't share his burdens with others asking help from you specifically, because you were special and he trusted you the most.

In this world though, the act is only deserving of a derisive snort. He pulled off this plot for who knows how many times. How would holding your hand help with his throbbing headache anyway?

(You ignore the fact you indulge him each time regardless.)

“In any case, the lord is returning in a week. Not much time left for you to mope.” He laughs even as you elbow his side.

A week.

(That is one week too long.)

--

When Ayato returns five days short of three weeks, you aren't there to greet him.

Instead, you are sick in bed, bundled in a pile of blankets, and suffering from a stuffy nose.

Ah, and delirious from fever. Very much so.

So when Ayato miraculously appears in your bedroom earlier than scheduled, you only sniff in response and brush him off as a hallucination.

But of course, your dismissive attitude isn't enough to discourage him from pestering you and running his mouth. He hovers by your bedside, noting with glee that you keep his ring on a nightstand close by. “This is rare. I don't think I've ever seen you ill.”

But you've seen him plenty, frail and weak after days straight of sleepless nights. He doesn't look too pretty in such a mood, quick-tempered and sharp-tongued at the slightest annoyance. He only ever softens when your expression flits to dismay for a fraction of a second before dutifully offering him prescribed medicine from the family's physician, the saddened expression gone like a mirage.

“How are you this annoying even in my dreams...”

As it turns out, you're even more of a worse case than he is.

“Mhm. Your filter is completely shut down when you're sick, huh.” Ayato laughs, amused at the surprising revelation. He doesn't get to be the receiving end of your blunt words very often. “Alright. How bad do you feel right now?”

“Terrible, since it's the ass crack of dawn.”

It is not the ass crack of dawn, but you wouldn't know any better with the folding screens obscuring the orange glow of the evening. “Do you have an appetite? I'll have a servant bring a meal.” Then, he slyly adds, “I can feed you, if you want me to.”

He doesn't know which part of that statement appeals to you the most but you sit up straight, attentive.

Interesting.

Though Ayato meant it in jest, he has no complaints scooping spoonfuls of porridge to bring to your lips. He patiently coaxes you into drinking the bitter medicine after, quickly soothing you with bite-sized cut fruit to wash away the acrid taste.

“Good job,” he compliments, chuckling when you glow at the praise. Your lips are shiny with juice, trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Absent-mindedly, his hand lifts to caress your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping it away. You jolt, a startled sound escaping you, and you hasten to clamp a hand over his mouth.

He blinks at you owlishly, dumbfounded.

“Don't,” you speak, your face decorated with a lovely pink. “You'll... you'll get sick.”

Ayato takes an embarrassing amount of time to process what that means. However, when he does, you can feel him grin beneath your fingers. He takes your hand, his huff of laughter tickling your palm.

“I thought we were in a dream? You don't get sick from kisses in dreams,” he teases, pressing a light kiss to your wrist. Your heart stutters in bewilderment but you make no move to pull away, only twitching when he kisses your fingertips.

“It's better to be careful...” Your brows knit together, and he kisses the tiny furrow away too.

“Okay. Let's do it next time then, when you're truly awake.” He gently pushes you to your back, fluffing up the pillows for your comfort and tucking you in the blankets. Indulgently, he presses a final kiss to the crown of your head. “Rest well so I can get that kiss sooner, hm?”

“That's a stupid reason to recover...” You murmur defiantly, stubbornly blinking your drooping eyes open.

In the end, you fall asleep to the sound of his laughter, the fingers combing through your hair, and the rhythmic beat in his chest.

--

When you wake up, you admonish yourself for having such a shameless subconscious, but you acknowledge that you had a good dream.

Then your eyes land on a pair of discarded gloves on your nightstand, one that you remember Ayato putting away before he began to spoonfeed you your meal.

...Fuck.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

A thoughtful hum answers you, preceded by a curious glance at your expression. Your legs are folded underneath you, back straight and eyes overlooking the garden instead of the weight resting on your lap. You can feel him shift, turning over where he faces against the porch, his robes wrinkling where they lay below.

“Are you suddenly becoming shy because a maidservant passed by?” He places down the novel in his hands on the wooden floorboards, watching your face burn in embarrassment. “I doubt this is the first time she's seen us, though.”

“My apologies. I'm not as thick-skinned as you are.”

“I'd prefer the term 'proud,'” he pokes the sash around your waist, smiling cheekily. “Who wouldn't want to show off their lover?”

He feels you stiffen, sees the flush of pink crawling outwards to the tips of your ears. “It's inappropriate. We're in a public setting.”

“That's only because you refuse to enter my chambers.” Ayato sighs and you look positively mortified. “I wouldn't ravage you, if that's what you're worried about?”

Not yet anyway, he doesn't say.

“My lord, please be reasonable. Whether you do or not, I will still be seen as your bed warmer. Did milady not advise us to be discreet? Inazuma would be in an uproar if they learned you were... you were...” You purse your lips, unable to spit the last word.

“Wedded.”

“I'm afraid we haven't gone that far, my lord,” you deadpan.

“So will you consider it?”

“My lord.”

“What?”

You give him a look, and he sighs in acquiescence. But he turns to face the opposite direction, expression hidden fron view. You can practically hear the pout in his voice, “I see. [Name] only sees me as a fling. My heart breaks to know this bliss is short-lived, but I will cherish our remaining time together.”

He's begun his theatrics again, you think tiredly, accustomed to his stunts. “In any case, we must be careful. We never know who has loose lips around here...”

He's still not facing you, resolutely looking away.

...Is he sulking for real? Was that a genuine marriage proposal?

“My lord?” You call out softly, in a lover's tender voice. He doesn't respond. Quieter, you whisper to his ear, “Ayato?” yet that doesn't earn a reaction either.

You start to panic, wondering if you were acting too indifferently. The change in your relationship had been a recent one, and you're still settling in a period of adjustment; even if you wanted to properly flirt with him like normal lovers do, bickering came more naturally to you.

You reach for his shoulder, hoping to turn him over and see his face. But then he catches your wrist, and you only have a second to catch a glimpse of his triumphant smirk before he captures your lips in a chaste kiss.

“Mhm, I see. So you're more considerate towards me when we're dating,” he cheerfully notes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as if he can't see the way your shocked gaze morphs into a cold glare. “I truly am privileged.”

“Incorrigible.” The word drips with poison, but he laughs and kisses you again, thumbing at the ring around your finger.

“Too bad you're stuck with me forever, huh?”

Definitely Bakugou

Katsuki was sleeping on the couch with his headset on after playing with Kirishima and the other boys, “Baby, hey, bubs I’m heading out.” He hummed with his eyes closed “Huh?” “I’m heading out real quick okay? I love you.” You kissed his cheek before grabbing your keys. “You want me to grab your shoes?” His voice sounding gruff “No baby, I’m okay thank you.” “Here.” You turned around to see him holding his wallet out to you, you giggled. “Katsu, no it’s okay baby.” You began to walk out the living room “Babe, what time is it?” He said as he rubbed his eyes, “It’s past ten baby.” “Okay…. What? Wait,wait,wait. TEN?!?” You started to laugh as he quickly took off his headset , Katsuki got up and immediately put on his slides next to the couch and his hoodie that he took off. “No, no, no baby, It’s okay! I’ll be fine.” “Yeah, no baby I’m not letting you go out this late, fuck that.” He grabbed his phone before walking with you. “Katsu, I promise I’ll be quick.” “Nah babe, I’m going with you.” He grabbed your hand before walking out the front door, “Katsuki! Please you don’t have to come with me.” “No I don’t care, I ain’t trying to have you killed or shit by these fuckers out here.” You started to laugh as he closed the front door and grabbed your hand again walking to your car, “You never know what could happen this fucking late babe.” “Baby, I done it before and came back fine.” “That’s the last fucking time you ever go out this late without me.” He grabbed your keys to start the car and drive to the store with you.

He bought everything btw

MasterList

Tag-List: @ebiharachan @otomefan @amis-love-bugs @slasherstories123

What About Him?

In which they get jealous of a game character

Ft. Childe, Diluc, Xiao, Ayato, Scaramouche

Childe:

"What does he have that I don't? I'm richer and cuter than him."

Gets very sulky and pouty

Can and will drape himself over you when he sees that character show up on your screen

He backs off for a bit when you shop him away, but he doesn't sulk any less If the game has audio he's listening very intently for more information on the character

Mocks the character every now and then, sometimes for the stupidest things, but you can tell he's just jealous

He'll be content if you give him some cuddles after, assuming you ignore said character

Diluc:

Not very confrontational about it

Yes, he's jealous, but you seem so happy, surely he can put up with it for a while

....right?

Alright that's long enough.

He brings you your favourite snack and asks if you'd like to read with him, or perhaps let him play the piano for you

That song you've been begging him to play the past week? He just so happens to want to play it right then

Anything if it means taking your attention back from whatever character stole you from him

Xiao:

As much as he trusts and adores you, he hates how it makes him feel

Of course he trusted you, he shouldn't feel threatened by this,,,patch of pixels, and yet he does

He doesn't really do much since you seem so happy

He'll just lean on your shoulder, watching you play

He'll listen to your commentary if you have any

Please give him headpats after, he needs it

Ayato:

You've got some cheek to ignore him in favour of a game character

"Darling, haven't you a moment to spare for your boyfriend?"

Invites you to sit on his lap as you play

You'll realise it was a mistake soon enough when you find out the paperwork on the desk was already complete and merely a ruse

Rests his chin in the crook of your neck, humming in thought as you play

He tickles you with light kisses whenever that character is on screen so you can't possible focus on them

If it was a competition for your attention, he was winning

Scaramouche:

Good luck to whatever device you're using to play

The first time it happens, he scowls about it but goes about his day

But after that? You'll start to find it missing

Suddenly, your phone is nowhere to be seen, or your pc has lost its keyboard

He's being petty and he knows

Yet everything is somehow exactly where you need them again once you have work to complete?

And don't even think about trying to get back to the game right after doing your work

He'll find a way to distract you from it crafty lil shit

It's a game of 3D chess with him at this point

Taglist[send an ask to be added]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @altair-ation @teyvattherapist @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @aweebstuff @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @datu-tadhana

The arnis stick I never got to use is sobbing-

Sticc ✨

If you’re wondering what those sticks are - they’re basically used in our Filipino martial art called Arnis!

I’ve been binge watching the 80s karate kid movies…

pragma, iv.

. . .love that is driven by the head, not the heart.

prev. | part 04: one year and no more

wc: 2,238 | oikawa tōru x f!reader

—fluff ; tw: marriage, mentions of divorce, mentions of babies(?) + guess what ending won? + enjoy my loves, and do request what kind of scenarios you want to see this y/n and tooru. their future? life like after?

+ leaves: ben&ben ft. young k / willow: taylor swift

+ up next on love: storge ft. hanamaki takihiro and matsukawa issei. wanna be part of the taglist for the next series?

love: masterlist ; tip jar ; re-blogs are much appreciated !

It’s been a year since you and Tooru have seen each other.

Keep reading

You forget to kiss them. 

GN!Reader ft. Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa.

Kuroo

He’s a covert competitor. You’re always in some sort of a silent competition about petty things, and you don’t even need to say a word to initiate it. Just a competitive stare and he would return your gaze with the same mischief.

It’s telepathy at this point.

It ranges from a simple staring competition, who-gives-the-most-kisses to intellectual debates. He always makes sure he wins or makes you surrender before he does, just so he could tease you afterward. It never gets too serious, though—he makes a joke out of it.

Plus, you pouting and glaring at him afterwards? Cute. Adorable. Literally the only reason why he does it and will do it over and over again.

But really, it has been three hours since you’ve woke up and you’ve not kissed him????

Blasphemy.

And you dare to sit in front of him, eating your breakfast cluelessly?

Really?

You haven’t said a word about it, either. But fine! He’ll take you on, alright.

But five more minutes passed…

and hello? Is he a brick wall or something?

“You’re frustrating me, I swear.”

You furrow your brows. What the hell is he on this early?

“Don’t act like you’re innocent. I know what you’re doing.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back into his chair, dramatically pouting like a sulking kid.

You roll your eyes, telling him that you’ve got work to do, then leave the table.

“No, wait, wait. Hey, wait! Are you really going to treat me like this? I’m hurt, kitten.”

“What do you mean by ‘what is it, Tetsu’? You’ve been playing this no-kissing game and you’re killing me!”

OH.

Ooooooh.

So he thought you were doing it on purpose?

Of course.

And he calls you childish?

“So you’re finally admitting it huh, Tetsu? That you can’t live without my kisses? You’re so needy—”

He kisses you to shut you up.

“No, don’t try to turn my tactics on me. You’ve been doing this to get my attention, right? Well, you win this time. Just this time, though.”

Bokuto

Oh no.

He’s dramatic about it. Very petty. Acts like he’s a neglected child that’s thrown away at the dumpster.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

What? Huh? Where did that come from?

“How could you ignore your very cool boyfriend? That’s sitting on your bed? ALONE, by the way.”

He sulks. Even makes the dramatic ‘hmph’ noises every one second.

Huffs very loudly.

“Am I that easy to forget?”

You’re really just trying to do your homework.

“Come ooooooon. I can teach you later. I’m smart. I’m intelligent. I can do better than your professor. I’ll study just for you, promise.”

A+ for effort. Very convincing.

Tired of waiting, he stands behind your chair and puts his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey. Hey. He—”

He won’t stop whispering into your ears, so you glare at him.

Fatal move. 

Looks like a kicked puppy after you did that. You swear you saw his imaginary tail stop wagging or something. He gazes at you like you just dumped him, 

“I just wanted a kiss. You’re so mean to me.”

Sulks again.

You sigh, finally kissing him on his cheek.

But did you really think that was enough?

No wayyyyyyy

It’s Bokuto we’re talking about.

Tackles you onto your bed and starts kissing your lips.

“I’m much more interesting than those papers, right?”

You better say yes 

Or don’t, if you like seeing him sulk.

Oikawa

Oh no. (2)

“You forgot something.”

He is sitting in the driver’s seat, arms behind your chair as he leans into you, brows raised in anticipation.

“What did I forget? Did I leave anything at your house?”

Come on. You’ve just spent hours at his house, cuddling, and you didn’t notice?

“You know, I’ve got girls lining up just to say hello to me, and you—the only person I want attention from—treats me like this?”

He pouts.

Dramatically, with his eyes closed and head turned away and all that thing.

You thought Kuroo and Bokuto were too much? Well, i’ve got news

Oikawa’s got both their behaviors mixed in one. 

He starts huffing dejectedly

And you’re confused. What is it?

You stare at him. He stares back, knowing that you’re completely clueless.

“You know what? Fine.”

He kisses you first, on your right cheek

And again, now on the temple.

Again, now on the left cheek—

“I can’t believe you forgot about it,”

He’s still pouting. Now his arms are crossed.

“Well?” He raises his brows, “What are you waiting for?”

You chuckle. Finally getting what he means, you peck him on the lips.

Okay?

He shakes his head, dissatisfied,

“No, not enough. You’ve got to make it up for the past hours too, you know? It’s written in MY rules. That’s it. Me and you? Yeah, we’re going back to my house. You owe me kisses, okay?”

A/N: Requests are temporarily open (for this exact scenario). Just send me an ask with three characters you’d like to see being neglected and begging for your attention. I’ll be waiting <3

girlies what do y'all do when you're crushing on someone