#READING THIS BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP WAS A BAD IDEA

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ For me?

‧✧̣̥̇‧ : Lads men when you give them what they were looking for.

No warnings for this post! Just posting something to hop back on tumblr, request me your ideas, I will do my best to write them all!

Ps I know this is bad but bear with me it’s been a year since I last wrote anything…

Part 1: sylus

⨯ ◞ Sylus

Sylus had been looking for a specific item, it was a protocore, one he had been looking for relentlessly, every wanderer he had hunted down or ordered someone to go after, lacked what he needed.

there was the noise again— you blinked up at the ceiling, sylus tripping over an open cabinet door at your apartment, if his biggest enemies couldn’t take him out, your bathroom would. “Too small and too tight, out for my blood” he complained.

He left you with no sleep that night, it wasn’t his fault really, nights were his morning and vice versa. you got out of bed and went to the living room, the room lit up with a notification buzzing from sylus’s phone, curiosity got the better of you and you leaned over, reading the message.

Unknown: “We didn’t find the protocore tonight either, sorry boss—“

Huh, how odd, you clicked on the message. There was a picture attached. that protocore’s shape looks like the one in the hands of the hunter association, you can attempt to get it. The idea of getting Sylus that protocore lingered in your mind, even as you yawned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. It was the first time you had seen him chase after something, and as such seeing him frustrated was a rare thing.

— Wouldn’t it be interesting if you got to it first?

The Hunter Association was no joke, though. They weren’t the type to hand over rare artifacts just because you asked nicely. Still, you had your own ways of getting things.

Next evening at your shift, you went to look for captian Jenna

“Captain, excuse me! Protocore delta-6, I need it for the mission I’m going on, do I have the permission to borrow it?”

you suppose it did work, you had managed to borrow it, but still not safely secured as an owned possession. The second step of your plan was a bit more tricky, having to go to a field of wanderers and making the excuse of the protocore breaking in your bag.

…wincing as you walked back to your apartment, avoiding your neighbors, not wanting them to look at you while you resembled a wet homeless rat, muddy shoes and hair clinging to your forehead like a miserable pet being bathed.

Great, house was empty. No sylus in sight, tiptoeing to the bedroom you pulled out the gift box and sat on the ground, injury from the wanderer be damned, thinking about actually surprising sylus with something good gave you enough good spirit and motivation to wrap the gift up. As you placed the protocore on the plush bedding of the box, a shadow loomed behind you.

“Of all people…”

The voice sent a chill down your spine. You barely had time to react before Sylus was looming over you, his sharp gaze locked onto the protocore nestled in its plush box.

“Get out of my room!” You snapped, instinctively pulling the box closer, but it was useless. Sylus moved fast—too fast. Before you could blink, he was crouched in front of you, his fingers already curled around the edge of the box.

He didn’t take it, though. Not yet.

Instead, he studied you, eyes flicking over your disheveled state—the ripped sleeve, the way you shifted slightly to favor your injured side. His expression darkened.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, attempting to brush it off, but he wasn’t listening. His hand darted out, grabbing your wrist with controlled precision. You hissed as he pushed your sleeve back, revealing the fresh wound underneath.

Sylus exhaled sharply through his nose. “You went into a Wanderer field.” That didn’t sound like a question.

You yanked your arm away. “It was for a good cause.”

His gaze flicked back to the box. “You stole that.”

“I borrowed it,” you corrected. “Technically… At first.”

For a long moment, he was silent. Then, in one smooth motion, he plucked the box from your grasp. You tensed, expecting him to scold you, but instead, Sylus just stared at the neatly wrapped gift, his fingers resting lightly on the edges as if he didn’t quite believe it was real.

“You did this for me?” His voice was quieter now, carrying something unreadable beneath the usual sharpness. Before his stupid handsome face returned to the usual smirk.

You shrugged. “I figured if you were gonna be obsessed over it, I might as well beat you to it.”

Something flickered in his expression— amusement, surprise, something softer you couldn’t place. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “You are getting brave kitten, doing dirty work? should I hire you as my assistant then.”

“You’re welcome,” you huffed, shifting to stand up. “Now, if you’re done being dramatic, I’d like to clean up and—”

You barely made it to your feet before Sylus moved. before you could step away one hand caught your wrist again—gentler this time. He didn’t say anything at first, just studied you, eyes sharp and calculating. Then, before you could protest, he raised your hand and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip.

[tiramissyoucake]

Can I request a scenario where Mohawk Mark and Girly reader first met each other, like he's the school's bad boy and no one mess with him since he's basically crazy.

Reader was maybe getting hit on and cornered into a wall or being followed then bump into mohawk mark and ask for his help, then he did. Which ends with the results of reader following him everywhere and over sharing to the the point they started dating.

Getting in trouble together, having quickies in the most unlikely places and sleeping naked together even though they didn't do anything before that, they're just enjoying each other's company

I love this idea so much. Mohawk Mark x girly reader you will always be loved.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

CW: semi-public? Piv, fem reader (girly/Bimbo coded), corny ass flight confession thing, stripping after fucking, not proof read

.

When Mark's powers started coming in slowly but surely, he immediately thought of all the things he could do for his own satisfaction. A few days after getting them, at school, he punched a student so badly he was suspended for a week, he saw it as a vacation.

When he came back, the student he punched had a patch on where he got hit and everyone steered clear from Mark with uneasy eyes or judgemental glances followed by whispering, (except William, but William already barely talked to him now.) He didn't care, he was a God among men now, he learned to pull his punches, he had a feeling killing a student with a singular punch would be more trouble than it's worth.

He talked back to teachers, harshly bumped into whoever was in his way and glared back twice as hard to anyone who had the gall to look at him, he was untouchable so why should he care about what anyone else thinks? He doesn't mind suspension if it means scaring these losers into knowing who's stronger.

His appearance was enough as is, he was certain he was the only student with a mohawk. He fumbled with his locker, the weight of the books growing more irritating as he finally got it open, tossing whatever he didn't need inside, he heard speaking next to him- not the usual shit talk some gossip fiends would jabber about, he heard arguing.

"Can you back off?! I have a class to get to!"

"Just ditch with me! Who cares about class?"

"I do, dumbass! That's the whole point of school?!"

Following the noise, he immediately saw you, your annoyed expression didn't match the adorable appearance. Pretty glossy lips, styled hair, a bag with too many charms and keychains. You were fending off a guy who was getting a bit too close, even for him. Some no-name jock who he was sure had less personality than he had brains which was already low.

"Don't touch me!" You jerked your shoulder out of his hand with a glare. "What, now you're too good for me?"

Okay, this was embarrassing. Mark rolled his eyes before slamming his locker shut, approaching the bickering.

"She's not interested, dickhead." He started, taking your side. "Why don't you fuck off before I make you?"

The guy scoffed, sure he was more muscular but he didn't have half-viltrumite genetics. "What're you gonna do? Think you're some kinda hero?"

He didn't wait for anymore incentive, his fist flying immediately into his jaw- granted he had to hold back *a lot* of momentum he picked up in his swing, you gasped, the jerk staggered and held his jaw and stared in shock.

"Yeah that's what I thought, pussy." Mark grinned, his fist unaffected as he turned to you- you looked starstruck. "What do you for first period?"

It took you a moment to find your voice, stuttering. "Uh— history..?"

Huh. So did he. "Come on." He grabbed your arm and tugged you along, you followed with no protests. Mark was surprised at how obedient you were being given you were arguing with the dumbfounded idiot back there like hell, a small smirk came onto his face- maybe you were terrified of him like everyone else.

He stopped once he reached the correct room, letting go of your arm to open the door, he turned to you to say some cool goodbye he'd been practicing but paused.

You practically had hearts in your eyes as you stared at him, restraining a smile. "I didn't get to thank you for helping me back there!" Your friendly tone was a welcome change from the earlier hostility. "I'm (Name), you're Mark, right?"

"... how'd you know?"

"Duh? Everyone knows you! You're the guy that punched a guy." Yeah, that was about right. "I didn't know you were such a Knight in shining armor, though!"

He scoffed, almost offended at that. "Hell no, he was just pissing me off. You just happened to be there."

"Whatever you say~"

It started from there, in that history class, you sat next to him and kept trying to pass notes, to which he crumpled and tossed aside. You chalked it up to the tough guy persona he was trying to uphold because why else would he repeatedly glance at you?

You walked with him to his classes and monologued since he barely responded to make it a conversation. "-but I dunno, like sometimes I wanna go for the messy hair look but I can't leave my house without styling it! What do you think? I mean I like your mohawk, like rarely any guys can pull off a mohawk-"

Details he didn't care about were being retained in his head, and he prayed to God you'd leave him alone during lunch, maybe you had your own bimbo friends to talk to so he could get some peace and quiet.

All hopes of that were thrown out the window as he saw your tray land on the table he occupied, you sat down and smiled like he was the best thing in the world. "Hey, you!"

He dropped the plastic fork, sighing. "Fine. What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" You responded so cluelessly as you brought out a compact mirror from your bag.

"You've been following me around like a damn dog since this morning." You pissed him off, how could you worry about if you had enough glitter on your face at a moment like this. "What the fuck do you want?"

You scoffed, like he was stupid. "Uh, because I like you? And wanna get to know you? I know you have a pretty... yikes. Reputation. But I don't care, earlier this year they spread rumors that I slept with everyone on the football team." You leaned closer, grinning. "I wouldn't touch any of those losers with a ten foot pole."

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, he didn't trust you fully but you weren't exactly a nuisance. He shrugged. "Suit yourself, princess."

The gasp you let out scared him into dropping his fork again. "'Princess'?! We're on a nickname basis now?! Omg, okay! I'll call you Marky!"

"Don't." He gritted, that made him sound like a boy toy, he hoped his scowl brought your attention away from his reddening cheeks.

.

He hated admitting his parents were right, but he knew why keeping the powers thing a secret was important, he didn't want government losers trying to recruit him for corny hero work or get civilians talking, but he figured you wouldn't be a problem and shockingly, you weren't. The first thing you asked him was if he was like 'real life superman'.

Sneaking into your painfully adorable bedroom, he ignored all your questions of "how'd you get in?!" And "what's wrong?", holding your wrist.

"C'mon, I gotta show you something." You got up from your bed, magazines discarded as he tugged you closer to the window. "Hold on! Mark, my parents are gonna kill me!"

He rolled his eyes, one leg already out the window. "They won't know, trust me. C'mere."

He pulled you closely, chest to chest as he guided you out the window. One moment, your feet were on the windowsill, and the next he's soaring through the sky with you held tightly in his arms.

"If you drop me, I swear I'll kill you!!" You yelled as you clung to his shirt, Mark grinned and propped you up.

"Uh oh, my hands slipping!" His little jab made you yell and cling to him harder, he almost went crazy feeling you hide your face in his neck and tighten your hands' grip on him. "MARK!! THAT'S NOT FUNNY!"

He couldn't help laughing, you were adorable enough as is, seeing you huddle up to him in his arms in the sky was a sight to see. At this point, he hovered and went at a decent pace over town, watching your expression. "What'd I tell you? Worth it or not?"

"Everything looks so pretty from up here.." You mumbled while glancing around, looking up at him. "Taking me out for a romantic flight, what's next? Are you gonna confess to me?" Your smile gave him the message that you'd hoped he would.

"Yeah? And if I was?" He leaned in, a grin on his lips, truth be told, after accepting your presence as a reoccurring thing in his life he found himself liking you more and more, following him around like a lovesick stalker. (it helped that he thought you were hot as hell too)

"I'd be real happy if you did?" You hummed, a blush dusting your cheeks. "You already know that I really like you, Marky."

That stupid nickname he came to accept, you were gonna be the death of him. "I like you too, princess. I really really like you." He repeated as he leaned closer, tightening his grip on you.

Pressing his lips to yours, you had a feeling the first kiss wouldn't be innocent, and you were right. A groan escaped him as if to silently say "finally", it was messy, biting your bottom lip, his tongue darting out to deepen the kiss further and tilting his head when you parted your lips for him, if only he did this in your room so he could properly kiss you until your lips were bruised.

the scenery itself made him want to roll his eyes, your Mark holding you in the air in the nightsky- hovering over the town like he was some cheesy comic book hero with a damsel; as corny as it was, it was perfect.

.

You kept in contact after getting accepted into college while he didn't make the effort to even apply. How could you not? Every time you'd see that stupid mohawk in the distance, you'd get so excited you could burst. Mark still had his methods of sneaking in your dorm and whisking you away to God knows where.

A house party hosted by someone you both don't know, a club that was way too exclusive, a festival with everyone bringing their own spread blankets for some show, that one was your favourite; your deviant of a boyfriend found a secluded corner near the woods you could set up your blanket at and he wasted no time having you all to himself.

"Be quiet you— mmff..!" He hissed, his hands grabbing your hips to guide your movement, his dick buried inside you under the skirt he thanked god you decided to wear, perfect for tugging your panties off and having his way. "Fuck, just like that..."

Your whimpers and moans drove him insane but he didn't want any festival goers to find you two like this, you bouncing on his cock with his pants tugged halfway down, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "C-can't, Marky..! So good...!"

Mark let out a breathless laugh, bucking his hips up to you. "C'mere- kiss me." You obeyed, you always did. Lips parted as yours slotted against his own, his tongue invading your mouth almost instantly to swallow any of your adorable moans, he groaned as his hand came down to spank you briefly, a short but strong swing that stung in the best way and made you yelp into his mouth.

"You like that?" He grinned, mischievous and filthy. "Such a good slut for me- mmh, mine, right?" You nodded rapidly, that didn't seem good enough as he spanked you again to ellicit a response. "Ah! Yes! Yours..! Only yours..! Mark!!"

He noted your pace, humming. "As much as I love seeing you hop on my cock, bunny." He sat up, flipping you over and shoving you back down to the blanket he chuckled at your shocked noise. "I wanna fuck you proper."

His hips pistoned against yours, a devastating pace as he panted and grunted over your moans, his hands intertwining with yours. "Yes, fuck- take it, that's a good princess.." he huffed, your legs locking around his waist.

And that wasn't the end of it, as if fucking you like it was your last time meeting wasn't enough, back at your dorm he pinned you back to your bed and threw your clothes off for round two. It must've been Viltrumite stamina or something because he couldn't get enough of you, or maybe he was just that obsessed with you.

He stilled with a loud groan as a stuttered moan escaped you, his hips grinding against you as he pumped you full. "Yes, yes, yes. Fuuhuuuuck...!" Mark almost drooled out as your pussy hugged his cock closely.

"God— I love you, Markyyy..." You extended the nickname, a blissed out expression on your face as he came closer, licking his lips. "I love you too, you're so fuckin' cute..." a satisfied moan escaped him as he kissed you, your hand cupping his cheek gently as you reciprocated happily.

"Mmm... gotta go soon.." he begrudgingly reminded you, to which you whined and clung to him. "Nooooooo..!"

"Baby, come on. You know you'll get in trouble if anyone finds me here." He remembered your college's harsh guidelines on 'uninvited guests' in the dorm, that didn't stop you from insisting. "God, they won't know! Don't worry!"

He rolled his eyes affectionately at you as he settled next to you. "Okay, okay! Just gimme a sec to take this shit off.." he threw aside whatever remaining clothes he had on, a pile forming in the corner as he tossed aside the articles of clothing one by one. "You took, off. Now."

A giggle escaped you as he started to remove your clothes, almost too playfully as he coaxed you. "What's funny? C'mon! You gonna let me be the only naked freak here?"

Sweat had coated your bodies from the rush at the festival and running back, so peeling off whatever remaining clothes was a huge relief. Laying back in the small bed, the size wasn't an issue as you two shuffled closer, skin to skin.

"You comfy?" His arm wrapped around you while the other propped up his head up on your pillow, you let out a happy hum, kissing his cheek. "Uh-huh, you better not leave before I wake up in the morning!"

"Oh, baby I wouldn't dream of it." Mark grinned, holding you possessively.

He wasn't ideal, he wasn't someone who would encourage you to be your best, you knew these late outings and rendezvous that ended up with him naked in your bed wouldn't end well, but the two of you didn't care, you were perfect for each other and that's all that mattered.

[sweetdispatch]

Oooh I love these prompt ideas!!

Can I have 4 lava cakes with chocolate ice cream and edible glitter

Photo - Q. Hughes

v' bakery pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader summary: You and Quinn had been close with each other but never made a move until one photo changed your whole friendship warning: none taglist:@bunbunbl0gs @hwalllllllelujah

The mutual pining had been going on since last summer. You met Quinn through your friends and it was the best thing that ever happened to you. He was a well spoken, smart guy with a passion. You admired him a lot, especially his drive about hockey. He was so passionate about it and it made you hooked on him. 

Before Quinn met you, he broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn’t willing to jump into another relationship but for you, he was ready for it. You were a sweet and caring person who was always ready to help others. He knew you were special when during your walk, you rescued a cat who was abandoned by the street. 

You were spending a lot of time with Quinn, many times ditching your friends just to be with him alone. You were sharing kisses but nothing more. You really thought that he’s the right guy for you. But you never made a move, too scared to risk what you have. Quinn also didn’t do anything. He needed more time to settle things down. 

When the season started, you two became more busy but this didn’t change anything. You were attempting his games and Quinn was always showing up late at night just to have a conversation with you. Everyone thought that you were dating him but you were keeping things casual. 

This was a bad call. One night you were scrolling twitter and you saw Quinn’ photo hugging another girl. You knew you shouldn’t be mad because at the end of the day, you are just friends but it hurted you. You believed in his every word that you’re special and he wants to have you but needed to sort everything out to be committed for you. 

You felt like a fool. You called your friend to tell her about this photo. She arrived at your doorsteps an hour later and you were analysing your whole friendship with Quinn. It was a silly idea but your friend decided to open a gossip blog to read about him to see if he's a guy that might break your heart. After she did it, you regretted this. 

There were plenty of rumours that Quinn is sleeping around with girls and he cheated in his previous relationships. You knew him and didn't want to believe what you read but you couldn’t help it. They really stuck in your head. That’s why you decided to give yourself a space from Quinn. You needed a break from him. 

When Quinn saw the photo floating around social media, he lost all the colors from his face. He knew that it looked bad, like he’s flirting with another girl but that was far from the truth. It was his teammate’s girlfriend and he only hugged her as a greeting. He tried to call you but when you didn’t pick up the phone, he knew you already saw this photo. 

You didn’t speak to Quinn for the next week. He tried to reach you but you never picked up your phone. You completely cut him off, thinking about your next move. Quinn was on a roadie so he couldn’t show up at your doorsteps but you knew that this was gonna happen as soon as he returned to Vancouver. 

You weren’t wrong. Quinn came back and he drove to your place instead of his. He desperately needed to talk with you, to explain to you it’s nothing and he only wants you. He knocked on your door and to his relief, you opened the door. You didn’t say a word, just let him in.

“I can explain” Quinn breathed out. 

“No need. I know that you only played with me and went to fuck another girl. Me and my friend had been reading about you and we learnt a lot of interesting things” You said calmly and crossed your arms on your chest. 

“What things?” Quinn was confused. 

“Just that you like to hook up with girls and cheated on your previous girlfriend” You shrugged. 

“Is this how little you think of me?” Quinn asked you.

“Honestly I don’t know what to think about you anymore” You sighed. “I thought that we had a chance to be together. That you are different from other guys and you really want me but now I’m not sure about it” You said truthfully. 

“I want you and everything we had is true. About this photo, it’s Petey’ girlfriend. I hugged her as a greeting and that’s it. It's a very unfortunate moment when someone took the picture” Quinn responded, feeling it’s the right moment to explain this whole mess. 

“Okay but what about the rumours?” You believed him with the photo situation but after reading all the nasty stuff you still weren’t sure of your feelings. 

“I used to sleep with girls and that’s normal. I was single and I’m not gonna tell you that I’m ashamed of that because I’m not. But I stopped doing that when I met you. I didn’t want to hurt you by going with other girls behind your back. I was waiting for you” Quinn said and you smiled softly. 

“And the cheating rumours?” You felt bad for asking him about this but you needed full transparency.

“False. I could never cheat on anyone. It’s not me. Those rumours are made up” Quinn said proudly. 

“So I just overreacted? God I feel so stupid. I’m sorry for jumping into conclusion” You said embarrassed that you believed them.

“Don’t be. I understand your concerns” Quinn hugged you. “What does it mean for us?” He asked you. 

“I don’t know” You sighed. 

“Because for me…” Quinn pulled out from the hug and looked at you. “It means that you care about us. That’s why I want to ask you this question. Are you ready to try to be with me? Like a girlfriend-boyfriend?” He asked with hope in his voice.

“Yes. I’m ready” You smiled at him and Quinn pulled you into a kiss.

[cameronsbabydoll]

Does sugar coated rafe ever do anything nice & sweet for the oc that’s for her happiness & not necessarily for his “control” ? Just anything in general really.

I also was thinking while reading the 2nd epilogue, the oc was pretty deep into post partum depression etc, & if that were to go any further (like her having suicidal thoughts for example) or even just her being genuinely so broken down that everyone (even random kids lmao) can tell that she is NOT okay , would rafe do something (that’s not for solely his gain but for her) ? Like we know he cares for her in his twisted own way but would something like that scare him? Her being so broken down, would he ever have thoughts like “ i cant lose her/ i need to help her etc” ?

Small But Genuine Acts of Kindness:

Taking Care of Her Without Making a Show of It: Rafe isn’t the type to say “I love you” outright or do big romantic gestures, but he shows his affection in quiet ways. Like making sure her car is always filled with gas, keeping her jewelry clean, or replacing things she loses before she even realizes they’re missing.

Paying Attention to Her Small Comforts: If she casually mentions that she likes a certain kind of tea or perfume, it’ll just appear in their home without her asking.

Letting Her Have Some Freedom (On Her Terms): Maybe she wants to go on a small trip with friends or have a night out—something that usually makes him tense. But sometimes, when he can tell she really needs it, he’ll let her go without an argument (while still having her watched, of course).

Moments of Softness at Night: When they’re in bed and she’s curled up beside him, sometimes he’ll play with her hair, rub slow circles into her back, or just hold her a little tighter.

If She Got Really Bad (Deep Postpartum Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Etc.)

Yes, that would scare him. Rafe is obsessed with her—he needs her. The idea of her slipping so far that she’s completely broken down? That would shake him in a way that almost nothing else could.

Denial at First: He might try to brush it off at first, refusing to believe she’s that bad.

“You’re tired, that’s all. The baby keeps you up, you just need sleep.”

But then he starts seeing it—how lifeless she looks, how even strangers can tell she’s not okay, how she barely reacts to anything anymore.

Realization & Fear: The moment it clicks for him that she’s not just tired, that she’s actually drowning in this, it would send him into panic mode. He wouldn’t show it outwardly, but inside? He’d be spiraling.

“I can’t lose her.”

“She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”

“I have to fix this.”

What He Would Do About It:

He’d actually listen (for once). If she says she needs something—therapy, medication, more time to herself—he’ll give it to her, no arguments.

He’d take over completely. She wouldn’t have to lift a finger. He’d hire extra help, make sure she’s never alone, and force her to rest.

He’d be more present. No more late nights out, no more business trips. He’d physically be there, watching her closely.

He’d take care of her in a way that’s not about control, but about making sure she doesn’t slip away from him. If she can’t even get out of bed, he’ll bring her food. If she won’t talk, he’ll just sit with her, quietly, waiting.

At his core, Rafe isn’t a good man. But he needs her, and he wouldn’t let her drown in her own mind. If things got bad enough, his possessiveness would turn into something almost desperate—because losing her is the one thing he cannot handle.

[observingfantasy]

The Price of Deceit

~ Shadow Milk Cookie redemption fic

Okay sooooo, ever since I saw this fanart from @frenchiefieart the brainworms refused to let me be. Questions like 'How did it come to this?' and 'What might happen after?' kept me from sleeping, so I wrote a one-shot. Which then kinda escalated...

I'm unsure about publishing my work in general, but I put far too much effort into that first chapter, and it still kinda works as a one-shot, so... here we go.🤷🏻‍♀️

Please go look at frienchiefie's absolutely gorgeous piece of art before reading. The first three lines of dialog are entirely stolen from her artwork, and the visual context really helps with the immersion. (@frenchiefieart if this kind of usage is not okay with you, please let me know and I'll change it. I never wanted to steel your ideas in any way.)

Chapter 1: Desparation

"Nilly, please, don't let them do this."

No reaction.

"You love all cookies, right? A-and we spent some time together. It wasn't all bad… was it?"

Still nothing.

"Pure Vanilla, please, look at me. I-I can't go back there. I'm not ready to disappear."

Shadow Milk was just straight-up begging at this point—he had no other options left. He was aching all over, bleeding from multiple wounds—the worst of which was unfortunately on his head, dripping blood into his eyes and making thinking more difficult than it really had to be.

"How dare you speak to him like that! Like he hasn’t already given you more chances than you ever deserved! Like you didn’t spit in his face again and again! Like you didn’t twist his kindness just to break his heart!"

Ohh, she was furious—the Guardian of the Silver Tree. Protective of her best friend and still mad at him for killing Elder Fairy. Time had done nothing to dull her fury, not through the long, chaotic years of war that followed.

Shadow Milk would be embarrassed later—about the way he flinched at every word, how he scrambled backward despite the sharp ache in his limbs. But right now, all that mattered was putting as much space as possible between himself and the cookie he probably feared the most.

He couldn't go back into that tree. He couldn't.

He would survive it—he always did. The Beasts were immortal, their magic living on even when their bodies perished. But what would be left of his mind after another century in isolation? After a millennium? An eternity?

He didn't want to find out.

But the choice wasn’t his to make. The heroes were closing in, their weapons still raised, their expressions grim.

"Please, I..."

He was still looking at his counterpart, still trying to get the other to just look at him. With his own eyes or with his staff, Shadow Milk would take whatever he could get at this point. But Pure Vanilla kept his eyes resolutely closed, both his staff and his body half-turned away from his beaten foe. Yet as long as he didn't turn away fully, there still was a chance. There had to be.

Despite what everyone might think now, Shadow Milk was well aware that he didn't deserve mercy. Or another chance. And especially not forgiveness. But Pure Vanilla knew that—and had offered him a hand over and over anyway.

Once, Shadow Milk had taken it. He had pretended, smiled, played along—a game of keeping just enough truth in his words to make his lies believable. And all the while, he had spread his influence in the shadows. With the help of his faithful minions, he had worked to crumble the very foundation of the Vanilla Republic, his counterpart had built atop the ruins of his kingdom.

And Pure Vanilla had known.

Not everything. Not the full extent. But he had seen the cracks forming, had watched as trust faltered. Had looked at Shadow Milk and saw all the lies tangled between the truths.

And still, he had reached out. Had tried to show Shadow Milk there was another way.

And the jester, oblivious to just how much Pure Vanilla really knew, had kept going. Let the rumors fester, let small wounds deepen into permanent scars. Had whispered into uncertain ears, let doubt take root where it hurt the most—between friends, between families, between those who had always stood side by side. And by the time Pure Vanilla finally acted, the damage had already been done. Friendships shattered. Councils divided. Some wounds only emotional—some far worse.

And when Pure Vanilla finally confronted him about all that, and Shadow Milk learned that the other had known but waited—had held onto the hope that there could be a peaceful solution—the jester had laughed. At his own stupidity and Vanilla's alike. Until he saw the look in his counterpart's eyes.

Betrayal, disappointment, and hurt, morphing into something harder. A determination so cold he never would have thought the compassionate healer capable of it.

That look had never left Shadow Milk’s mind since. Even now, after years of war, it surfaced in the quiet moments, in every retreat that followed, in the hollow ache he refused to name. Because that had been the last time Pure Vanilla had reached out his hand.

And now, as Shadow Milk cowered before him once more, he knew there would be no hand this time. No warmth. No kindness. Only that cold determination and resentment, where once had been hope.

"Nilla… Nilla, please... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry…"

He choked out between sobs he couldn't hold back any longer, as Pure Vanilla showed no signs of hearing him at all, while the other heroes were slowly closing in.

"White Lily, let's get this over with," Dark Cacao said with a finality that made his heart race.

He was running out of time. He couldn't stop himself from slowly scrambling away further, nor could he repress the absolutely pathetic whimper that tore from his throat. He was hyperventilating so badly he couldn't even form the words to try and convince them to stop. To give him another chance. To do anything but this...

Not that they would listen anyway. That was always the problem of the liars—no one believed them when they were telling the truth. But right now he just had to make them believe—somehow.

With his back against a wall and no escape, his desperate gaze fell onto Pure Vanilla once again. And when the ancient Light of Truth slightly turned his staff to look at him one last time, the former Virtue of Knowledge had one last, absolutely desperate idea.

"Wait! Please!"

When everyone paused for a heartbeat, Shadow Milk seized the moment to tear the Soul Jam of Deceit from his chest and extend it towards his other half.

Everyone froze. For a moment, the only sound that could be heard in the giant arena—where the fight between the last Beast and the heroes had taken place—was Shadow Milk Cookie's heavy breathing.

Well, at least he still knew how to capture an audience.

Shadow definitely had Vanilla’s attention now.

"What…?"

The question was soft, incredulous. Shadow Milk couldn’t blame him. He could barely believe it himself. His hand trembled, the weight of his Soul Jam unbearable in his palm.

"T-Take it."

His voice was shaking even worse than his hand. He swallowed, trying to steady himself, but his throat felt tight and his breathing was labored.

"Do…" He hesitated, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. "Do w-whatever you need to… do with it."

Crack it, break it, disintegrate it—anything but this.

"But please, don’t…" He choked on his own horror again, but forced himself to finish the damn sentence before it swallowed him whole.

"Don’t seal me away again. Please."

Silent tears were uncontrollably falling down his face at this point, as he waited for Pure Vanilla to please just accept his offer. It was the only thing he had left.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain. And Shadow Milk realized he wasn’t the only one waiting. None of the other heroes moved to take the Soul Jam. Instead, they stood frozen, their gazes shifting between him and Pure Vanilla—some uncertain, some shocked, others expectant.

Finally, Pure Vanilla’s hesitation hardened into something like grim resolve. His jaw tightened. His shoulders squared. Then, without a word, he stepped forward and took the Soul Jam from Shadow Milk’s trembling hands.

It took every ounce of willpower not to recoil, not to clutch his most precious possession to his chest like a lifeline.

There was something dark in Pure Vanilla’s gaze—something final. Whatever fleeting hope Shadow Milk might have clung to shattered the moment their eyes met. And yet… behind the cold determination, there was regret. An apology. For what?

"I'm sorry. I wish it wouldn't have had to come to this."

Then, without another moment for Shadow to comprehend what the hero was going to do, bright shards of light pierced his Soul Jam of Deceit and Darkness, shattering it in an instant.

It was pain unlike anything Shadow Milk had ever known. Worse than when the witches had originally split his Soul Jam in two. Back then, they had cleanly sliced away the part that he had been rejecting anyway. Now, Pure Vanilla's light mercilessly carved into the deepest, darkest part of his soul and watched his everything shatter into a million pieces.

The pain was blinding, suffocating, all-consuming. He hoped desperately that he had been mistaken—that he wouldn’t survive this. That maybe his soul was so inextricably bound to that gem that its shattering meant true annihilation. Death would be mercy. No matter what kind of punishment awaited him in the afterlife, it couldn't be worse than this.

When the light finally retreated, the pain faded—slowly, agonizingly. Which probably meant that he was still alive. That was the only realization Shadow Milk could grasp right now. His body still ached all over—worse than before. His very essence had been ripped apart. Shredded. He couldn’t feel anything but pain. Couldn't hear, see, or smell anything at all.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Maybe he was? He couldn’t tell.

Then, there were hands. Touching him. It hurt. Moving him. That hurt even worse.

Wasn't he suffering enough? (No.) Did they really have to keep hurting him? (Yes. He deserved it. He would finally get what he deserved.)

His body had nothing left to give.

The last thing Shadow Milk felt was a hand on his forehead before everything dissolved into sweet oblivion, and he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

[shigiaki]

Not my girlfriend part 3

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Sorry for the extremely late update. I wanted this part to be good and long, but I was having trouble coming up with good ideas and eventually put it on hold. Enjoy! Let me know if you would like me to write next!

┕━━━━━━━★━━━━━━━━━┙

You couldn’t sleep all night, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get the image of him off your mind. His lips on yours, the constant teasing, your neck covered with purple and red marks with small hints of bites.

You turned pink just thinking about it as you lay in bed, covering yourself with the thick blanket. You turned to the side, checking the time on your alarm clock. 3 a.m. You wanted to sleep but just couldn’t.

When you arrived home, you locked yourself in your room, feeling guilty, no better than Naruto and Sakura. But the guilt quickly faded as you remembered those messages and photos. It was almost midnight when you got home, and while you were in the middle of changing, your phone rang constantly. Growing irritated, you picked it up, it was Naruto.

"Where have you been?" his text read. He had called me earlier that day, but I didn’t reply because I was too busy with Sasuke…

His next text read, "Why were you over at Sasuke’s?" I frowned, looking at it.

How did he know? you thought to yourself, but then quickly remembered that you both had shared each other’s location. You must have forgotten to turn it off. You sighed as you typed a reply, "It’s nothing, we had a class project we had to finish."

Not wanting to think about Naruto, you decided to take a shower and head to bed. Afterward, you changed into your favorite pink silk pajamas. They were your favorite.

As you brushed your hair, you kept thinking about how quickly you had left, starting to feel bad that you hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. Your eyes lifted to the mirror, and you noticed the number of hickeys on your neck and down your chest, making you blush once more. You began thinking about all the things that could have happened if you had stayed...If Sakura hadn’t called him.

Finally feeling a little sleepy, you tried to sleep. Turning off the lights, you scrolled through your phone and remembered the photos you had taken of him. Opening your camera roll, you clicked on his picture, a soft smile forming on your lips at how adorable he looked. Amused, you set that picture as his icon on your phone, changing his name to "Pervert."

Turning off your phone, you lay in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but your mind constantly wandered to him. Forcing yourself to sleep, you only managed an hour or two before waking up again from a dream about him. Growing irritated, you got up, grabbed some ice cream, and watched TV all night until you finally decided to start getting ready.

Once you were finished, you slid on your shoes and headed outside. The walk wasn’t long, and it was a nice day, sunny but a little cold. Before leaving, you had made some coffee, hoping it would give you enough energy, but if it didn’t, you figured you’d just end up buying an energy drink.

After a couple of minutes, you reached the entrance, where many other students from your class were gathered. It didn’t take long for you to recognize him immediately, he was hard to miss, his tall figure and dark features standing out as he glared right at you. His face revealed nothing of his feelings after last night.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep composed. You weren’t going to let this mess you up! You were well-composed and kind, everyone knew that. There was no way you were going to let your mind run wild because of him!

Your gaze quickly shifted away from him, focusing straight ahead. As you were about to pass him and ignore his presence, he stopped, leaning against the brick wall before casually falling into step behind you, just close enough for you to notice. You could feel his intense stare on you as you sipped your coffee, trying to ignore the way it made your skin prickle.

Almost reaching class, you finally turned to look at him. He stopped as well, calmly gazing down at you. His expression was unreadable you had no idea what he was thinking.

"Why do you keep following me?" you mumbled, nervous and annoyed by his persistent stare.

"We have the same class together, remember?" he spoke softly, his tone casual as if nothing was out of the ordinary. You glared at him, noticing the way his eyes drifted to your neck and chest.

"Yeah, right. Whatever..." you muttered, rolling your eyes. You wanted to ask why he had done that yesterday, but it was too early to stress over it.

A second later, Naruto appeared beside you, catching you off guard as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You tried to keep your expression neutral, hiding the disgust that bubbled inside you. Forcing a fake smile, you looked at the grinning blonde in front of you.

"Hey, sweetie," you greeted, your voice light but hollow.

Naruto’s eyes flicked between us, his curiosity evident. "What are you guys talking about?" he asked, his tone almost casual, but you could sense the underlying curiosity.

you quickly shook your head. "Nothing," you dismissed, looping your arm around his shoulder in an attempt to steer the conversation away. As you did, you stole a glance at Sasuke, who remained silent, his gaze cold and unwavering on Naruto.

That look alone was enough. you could tell. And that meant Naruto could too.

"Is this about the project last night?" Naruto asked, his brows knitting together slightly. Sasuke’s lips curled just slightly, an amused expression flickering across his face. "Project?" he repeated, as if testing the word.

Naruto frowned, turning to me. "Yeah? Isn't that why you were at his place so late?" His confusion was obvious, his blue eyes searching mine for answers.

Sasuke simply nodded, his gaze flickering between the two of us, unreadable as ever. Naruto frowned, looking doubtful. You wanted this encounter to end as quickly as possible.

"Ah," Sasuke let out softly, tapping his chin as if deep in thought. "Right… I forgot," he said between pauses, his tone deliberate. "Our project… we were quite occupied." A subtle smirk played on his lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your stomach twist.

You bit your lip, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. Naruto didn’t say anything, but he noticed the strange tension between you two. A flicker of suspicion crossed his face, though you were too busy glaring at Sasuke to notice.

Shifting your gaze to Naruto, you give him a soft smile. "We should get going," you say, your voice light. Sasuke watched silently from the side, his dark eyes unreadable.

"Right, wouldn’t want to be late," Naruto agrees, stretching his arms behind his head. Before either of you can move, Sasuke reaches into his bag and pulls something out, extending it toward you without a word.

You glance down. Strawberry milk. Your favorite.

A beat of hesitation passes before you take it, fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. "Thanks?" you murmur, tilting your head up at him.

His expression stays neutral, but there’s something in the way his gaze lingers, just a second too long, before he lets out a quiet "Hn." "See ya around," he says dismissively, already turning to leave.

You stare at the drink in your hand, warmth creeping into your cheeks. How does he know this is my favorite? A small, uncontrollable smile tugs at your lips, and you duck your head to hide it.

"That’s… odd," Naruto mutters, snapping you out of your thoughts. "What is?" you ask, glancing at him.

He scratches the back of his neck, frowning. "Sasuke…" He hesitates, then shakes his head. "Never mind. Just weird that he’d give you that."

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ───✧

The day went with a breeze. You had thought about avoiding Sasuke all day, too shy to even face him, but that would be impossible because of your deal to humiliate them.

You thought Sasuke would seek you out, maybe even tease you, though he didn't seem like the type. But no, he didn't at all. He kept his distance like he always did, acting completely normal, before you found out the truth, before you met him on the rooftop and told him everything.

One thing had changed - his eyes never left you now.

During group hangouts where both your friend groups would be present, you tried to act normal while discreetly watching Naruto and Sakura, wondering if they'd finally be bold enough to flirt openly. Everything appeared the same as always ,Naruto would say something foolish, Sakura would hit him, the familiar rhythm of their interactions unchanged. But now, knowing the truth, you saw them differently. Their closeness, which you'd never properly noticed before, suddenly seemed obvious in every glance and casual touch.

Sasuke paid no mind to their interactions.

For the entire week, he'd established a new routine of quiet gestures appearing with strawberry milk exactly when your energy waned, slipping your favorite chocolate into your bag when you weren't looking, lingering outside classrooms long after his own sessions ended. Most surprisingly, he'd started offering to walk you home each evening, his presence a silent shield against the autumn chill.

The consistency was what unsettled you most. This wasn't the aloof Sasuke you knew. These deliberate acts of attention felt like... something you weren't ready to name.

This might have been his plan all along. Naruto had begun noticing the subtle changes too, how Sasuke's sharp edges softened whenever you entered the room, how his usual indifference gave way to quiet attentiveness. The blond never missed an opportunity to call him out, either.

"Since when do you carry around strawberry milk, bastard?" elbowing him in the ribs. Sasuke merely shrugged him off with a glare that lacked its usual heat, his dark eyes flickering to you for half a second before looking away.

Each small gesture felt deliberate, like moves in some unspoken game only Sasuke understood the rules to. And you, you were both the opponent and the prize.

Naruto tried to convince himself it was nothing, maybe Sasuke just wanted to get along with his best friend’s girlfriend. That’s all it was.

But then, that night, your phone lit up with a message, the first in a week.

You were sprawled on the couch beside Naruto, his loud crunching of chips nearly drowning out the TV. When your phone buzzed against your thigh, you casually grabbed it only for your breath to hitch.

A single name glowed on the screen: Sasuke: "Come over."

Heat rushed to your cheeks, painting them a telltale pink. You angled the phone away instinctively but not fast enough.

No explanation. No pleasantries. Just those two words, loaded with something you couldn’t quite name. Your pulse jumped.

Naruto froze mid-bite, a potato chip crumbling between his fingers as his sharp blue eyes locked onto you. "Who texted you?" he asked, voice laced with suspicion that sent your heart hammering against your ribs.

Your grip tightened around the phone like it might suddenly combust. The weight of Sasuke's message, his first in a week, so simple yet so loaded, burned against your palm. The last thing you needed was Naruto discovering his best friend had just asked his girlfriend to come over.

"No one important," you managed, forcing your face into what you hoped was casual indifference despite the heat creeping up your neck.

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit." He wiped salty fingers on his pants and leaned closer. "You're doing that thing where your left eye twitches when you lie."

A nervous laugh escaped you. "Since when do you pay that much attention?"

"Since my girlfriend started blushing at her phone like a-" Your phone buzzed again, cutting him off. Both your gazes snapped to the glowing screen now displaying a second message from Sasuke

The second notification illuminated the dim room, Sasuke’s name flashing like a warning siren. Naruto’s hand shot out faster than a shuriken throw.

You twisted away, but he caught your wrist. "Ohhh no you don’t—"A brief struggle ensued, your elbow knocking over his chip bag, his knee pinning your thigh to the couch cushions. The phone tumbled to the floor between you, screen-up.

Sasuke (2:14 AM): "You’re taking too long."

Naruto went preternaturally still. The shift in his demeanor was instant: shoulders tensing, jaw hardening. When he spoke, his voice carried an unfamiliar edge. "Since when does Sasuke text you at 2 AM?"

Your breath hitched as Naruto's grip tightened. "He must have forgotten something-" you stammered, fingers digging into the couch cushions. "Maybe it's about our Project"

The lies tasted bitter on your tongue. Naruto's blue eyes usually so bright and trusting darkened with uncharacteristic suspicion. You squirmed under his weight, but he didn't budge.

"It's nothing important," you insisted, forcing a laugh that came out more like a choked cough. "I'll just...ask him tomorrow."

But Naruto wasn't letting go. His gaze dropped to the phone still glowing between you, Sasuke's name glaringly visible in the dim light. Your pulse roared in your ears loud enough that you swore Naruto could hear it.

Since when did he pay this much attention? Since when did he look at you like this, like he was seeing cracks in something he thought was solid?

"We should head to bed, it's late," you mumbled, voice thin as you pressed your palms against Naruto’s chest. His heartbeat thudded violently under your fingertips, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

He didn’t move.

A charged silence stretched between you, broken only by the buzz of another incoming text. Naruto’s gaze flicked to your phone, then back to you, his pupils blown wide with something between betrayal and fury.

"You’re really gonna pretend this is nothing?" His voice was low, dangerous. The kind of tone he reserved for enemies. Your breath caught. Sasuke’s name flashed again on the screen.

Then a knock at the window. Both of you froze.

Through the glass, silhouetted by moonlight, stood Sasuke, arms crossed, impatience rolling off him in waves. Naruto’s grip on you turned bruising.

"Yes, I swear," you mumbled, the lie coating your tongue like ash. For a fleeting moment, guilt prickled up your spine, you sounded just like him, like every cheating bastard who'd ever made excuses in the dead of night.

Then you remembered.

The photos of Naruto and Sakura pressed together at Ichiraku. His arm slung casually around her waist. Her laughter a little too bright, a little too intimate. The way your stomach had hollowed out seeing them, It scorched away your guilt now.

"You're hurting me." Your voice came out sharper than intended as his fingers dug into your waist. Naruto recoiled like you'd burned him, releasing you so abruptly. Without a word, he stalked toward the door, shoulders rigid with barely contained fury.

Your palms slicked with sweat as the reality of the situation crashed over you. Sasuke was outside. Naruto was seconds from discovering the truth. And you, you were trapped between them, your lies unraveling faster than you could spin new ones.

naruto opened the door to confront sasuke Naruto wrenched the door open with enough force to make the hinges shudder.

Sasuke stood silhouetted in the moonlight, one hand still raised from where he’d been about to knock. His dark eyes flicked past Naruto’s seething form to you, disheveled and wide-eyed on the couch, and something dangerous flashed in his expression.

"The hell are you doing here?" Naruto bit out, voice trembling with barely restrained fury. A beat of silence. The air between them crackled like a live wire.

Sasuke’s gaze never left yours as he answered, voice deceptively calm: "She knows why." Naruto’s breath hitched. When he turned to you, the betrayal in his eyes cut deeper than any blade.

"Explain." Your mouth went dry. There was no escaping this now.

You sucked in a shuddering breath and forced yourself to stand, legs trembling as you approached the doorway where they stood squared off two living weapons barely restrained by civility.

Naruto's voice cracked through the apartment like a whip: "Why the hell are you showing up at my girlfriend's place uninvited?" His fingers curled into fists, knuckles bleaching white.

When Sasuke didn't flinch, Naruto whirled on you, eyes wild with hurt and fury. "And why the FUCK is he texting you to come over at 2 AM?" Spittle flew from his lips, his whole body vibrating with the force of his shout.

The silence that followed was deafening. Sasuke's obsidian eyes bored into yours, waiting. Naruto's ragged breathing filled the space between you all.

Sasuke took one look at your paralyzed expression and sighed, that infuriating, dismissive sound that always meant he’d decided to handle your mess.

He shouldered past Naruto like he owned the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with deliberate calm. The air turned to ice as he turned.

"Same reason you asked Sakura to yours."

His voice was glacier-cold. Naruto's grip on your wrist went slack. "That—we were just studying for calc—"

"At midnight?"

You watched Naruto's Adam's apple bob, his tell when lying. The way his eyes darted to your lacrosse jacket hanging by the door. The sweat darkening the collar of his hoodie. Sasuke hadn't even raised his voice.

Sasuke’s mouth curved into a mocking frown. "You know… I’m glad." His voice dropped to a velvet murmur as he stepped closer, the scent of his cologne sharpening the charged air between them.

"If you hadn’t fucked my girl first…" A deliberate pause. His thumb brushed slowly over his own bottom lip, eyes locked on Naruto with predatory focus. "I’d never have known how sweet yours tastes."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Sasuke didn’t blink. "Now we’re even."

Sasuke's gaze slid to you dark, calculating, the way a wolf sizes up wounded prey. Each step he took forward vibrated through the cramped dorm room, his presence swallowing the oxygen whole. You could smell the wintermint on his breath when he stopped inches away, feel the heat radiating off his body like a furnace.

Naruto stood frozen by the door, fists trembling at his sides. Anger warred with something uglier in his blue eyes, guilt, sharp and sour, twisting his usually bright features into something unrecognizable.

"You got something to say, loser?" Sasuke murmured, never breaking eye contact with you. His thumb brushed your lower lip, possessive and cruel. "Or you just gonna stand there remembering how she—"

Naruto's chair crashed against the wall as he lunged.

Naruto’s hand shot out, gripping Sasuke’s shoulder hard enough to wrinkle the black fabric of his designer shirt. He yanked him backward—hard—sending Sasuke stumbling into your partments room’s cluttered desk. Pens and textbooks scattered as Naruto lunged, all coiled rage and trembling muscle.

You barely had time to gasp before Naruto was on top of him, knees pinning Sasuke’s thighs, fist cracking across his cheekbone with a sickening thud.

"You don’t fucking touch her!" Naruto roared, voice raw.

Sasuke’s head snapped to the side from the impact, but his smirk never wavered—just a slow drag of his tongue over the blood on his lip. "That all you got?" he taunted, breathless.

Naruto reared back for another swing—"GET OUT NOW!"

Your voice cracked through the room like a gunshot. Naruto froze mid-swing, fist still clenched, breathing ragged.

"We’re over. Leave." The words left your lips like shards of glass sharp, final.

You didn’t wait for his reaction. Striding forward, you grabbed his arm, your nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave crescents. For a heartbeat, he resisted, muscles taut under your grip then he let you yank him off Sasuke, stumbling back like the fight had been punched out of him.

Sasuke stayed sprawled on the floor, wiping blood from his split lip with his thumb. His dark eyes flicked between you and Naruto, unreadable.

Naruto’s chest heaved. "You’re choosing him?" His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of a scream.

You didn’t answer.

"It's not that I picked him." Your voice was calm, each syllable measured like a death sentence. "You picked her first."

You stepped closer, invading Naruto's space without hesitation. The scent of his cheap citrus body wash, the one you'd bought him last Christmas, made your stomach twist. His blue eyes widened, pupils dilating with something between horror and realization.

Sasuke remained silent behind you, but you felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. Approval? Amusement? It didn't matter.

"Every. Single. Time." You punctuated each word with another step forward, forcing Naruto to retreat until his back hit the doorframe. "Study sessions that ran too late. 'Innocent' texts at midnight. That fucking strawberry lip gloss she always wore, you think I didn't notice it on your collar?"

A muscle in Naruto's jaw twitched. His throat worked soundlessly. The guilt radiating off him was almost palpable. You leaned in, close enough to whisper: "You don't get to play victim now." When you pulled back, the tears in his eyes didn't move you. Not anymore.

Naruto jerked his head away as you turned your back on him, his jaw clenched so tight you heard his teeth grind.

"I’ll return your things later." Your voice stayed frost-bitten, final.

Silence. Then, the creak of the door. A pause. The slam shook the walls.

You exhaled, shoulders slumping, until your gaze landed on Sasuke. He was still on the floor, propped up on his elbows, the sleeve of his black sweater damp with blood from his split lip. His dark eyes tracked your every movement as you knelt beside him.

"You okay?" you murmured, voice softening despite yourself. Your fingers hovered near his cheek, unsure.

Sasuke caught your wrist before you could touch him. Not harshly—just enough to make you freeze. His thumb brushed your pulse point, a silent question in his gaze.

The sting of his fingers around your wrist barely registered, all you could see was the blood. Dark and glistening, it trailed from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, each drop a sharp contrast against his pale skin.

"Let me treat you," you murmured, voice softer than you intended. Your free hand rose instinctively, fingertips hovering just shy of his face. The air between you thrummed with something electric, dangerous.

Sasuke's grip didn't loosen, but his breathing hitched when your thumb finally made contact, brushing away a crimson smear. The taste of copper hung heavy in the scant space separating you.

Some distant part of your mind registered that you should be afraid - of his intensity, of what this meant, of how his dark eyes tracked your every movement like a predator's. But the louder, more insistent part only cared about the wound.

The silence stretched taut between you, broken only by the rustle of fabric as you leaned closer, your breath ghosting over his split lip. Without thinking close enough to count the flecks of onyx in his eyes, close enough to feel his breath hitch against your lips. The space between you thinned to nothing, charged with something electric and undeniable.

For one reckless heartbeat, you forgot about, the blood on his lip, the grip still circling your wrist, the door Naruto had just slammed behind him. Then reality crashed back.

You jerked away like you’d been burned, pulse roaring in your ears. Sasuke’s fingers tightened instinctively, halting your retreat for one terrifying second before letting go.

His expression was unreadable. But his eyes—

His eyes burned.

[thepilatesprincess]

Stay the night

Story summary: You’re locked out of your apartment, and you need to make a choice, knock at the Murphy’s and play it safe, or knock at the door of the man you probably should avoid.

Author’s notes: Hiii! I hope you enjoy this one, I’ve struggled a little with it tbh. I apologize in advance for the grammar, English isn’t my first language. I'm scared. Thank you for reading <3

TW : Angst, heavy make out session, bad language

WC : 2,5k

You swear under your breath, jiggling the key in the lock again. Nothing. Nada. It won’t budge. You should have seen this coming; it has been days in the making.

Now, the mechanism had finally jammed completely, and you’re stuck outside of your apartment. Lovely. You rub your hand over your face in frustration and groan. It is late and all you want to do is sleep after the day you’ve had.

You call the owners of your apartment complex just to be met with disappointment. « We can send someone tomorrow afternoon», they tell you.

« Nothing sooner? »

«Sorry, we can’t do anything for tonight. Do you have someone you can stay with for the night? »

You ignore the question and ask again but their answer doesn't change. Finally, you thank them and hang up.

Here’s the thing, you do have options. You could go upstairs and ask the Murphy’s. They would be glad to help you and you’d be doing the smart thing. Choosing the safe option.

Or…

Or you could knock on your next-door neighbor’s door.

Javier Peña.

Trouble.

He opens the door slowly, confusion morphing into amusement, taking in your frustrated stance in the hallway. He looks like he always does, tall and big, the kind of frame that made you think of a monkey climbing a tree. He’s wearing his signature jeans and a white button-down shirt with short sleeves that seem to end just before his biceps bulge.

He looks good. Too good.

« Hey hermosa, couldn’t get enough of me at work? » His voice is low, soft.

There he was. Javier Peña. The man who made working at the DEA bearable. The man who was there for your first kill—and hours later, for your first breakdown in Bogotá. The man who shared matching wounds with you. The man who poured your drinks after every rough day. The man who knew your darkest secrets. The man who flirted with you at every chance. The same the man who valued your friendship too much to lose it. The man you wanted to risk it all for.

The man.

Your man.

You wished.

You hesitate, suddenly fully aware of what you are about to ask him. And how dangerous this evening could be. You could still back out. But looking into his big brown eyes, you forget all about complicated.

« I..um…», you start, immediately embarrassed by your lack of composure. Try again. « My apartment door won’t open, and maintenance won’t come until tomorrow afternoon. I need a place to stay for the night. »

He pauses, looking at your face for a moment, trying to decipher something. A soft smile creeps at the corner of his mouth; he looks amused.

« And out of all people, you thought of me? Not Connie and Murphy? » That damn smirk. You hate it.

 You back away a few steps, still looking at him. «No, you’re right. I’ll go ask them instead, thank you for your time, Jav-»

He grabs your wrist before you can turn away from him. Instead, he pulls you closer to him, his grasp on your wrist tight like he’s afraid you’ll run. « Stay here», he says firmly.

« What? » You stare at him a little breathless.

He sighs, still holding your wrist with one hand, his other arm resting on the door frame. « Stay here. ‘Til they fix it. »

You pause, unsure if this is a good idea anymore. « I don’t want to be a bother, », you mumble, looking into his eyes.  « I can just go and - »

« Hermosa, » His voice is low, unwavering. « I want you here. Now get inside. ».  

His apartment is exactly how you’d imagined it. And, if you were being honest, you had imagined it a lot. Peña’s place is barely lit, clean yet devoid of personality. It looks lived in, but not messy. Documents scattered across the dining table; his leather jacket tossed over the couch like he’d thrown it there in a hurry. A couple of beer bottles sat on the counter. A few ashtrays around the room, one on the kitchen counter and another on the coffee table facing the couch. You assume there is probably another one near his bed. Wait, you probably shouldn’t be thinking about his bed.

 But more than anything, it is the smell that catch you off guard. The air smells of woodsy cologne and cigarettes, it smells like Peña. 

You walk inside and look around, wanting to capture every detail of his apartment. It feels like discovering a new side of him that you’ve never seen before. What did comfort and routine look like for Peña?

You turn, taking in every detail, until your eyes meet his. He’s still leaning against the door, arms crossed, watching you. Waiting.

« So hermosa, what do you think? » he asks, looking mildly amused.

«Um…», you hesitate, thinking. « Cleaner than I thought. »

He says nothing, waiting for more. You smile, teasingly. « I don’t know Jav. It feels like you. »

« Yeah? » he muses, tilting his head. « And what does that mean, exactly? »

You bite your lip, turning toward the kitchen, determined not to let him throw you off. “That I’m very hungry. Did you eat? I could make us something.”

Peña doesn’t  move as you step into his kitchen. You can feel his eyes on you, watching. Enjoying this. « You’re going to cook for me, hermosa? ».

You ignore him, rolling your eyes, as you pull open his cabinets. At least he has enough ingredients to make something halfway decent. You set a pot of water to boil and start chopping some vegetables, but the weight of his stare is too much.

« Quit staring, Peña. », you warn him, not looking up. His only presence throwing you off balance.

« Can’t help myself, you look too pretty in my kitchen. » You nearly slice your finger. Asshole. You don’t dare look at his face as you go check the pot. You can feel him smiling. Javier Peña knows the effect he has on you, the same he has on every woman.

You shove the knife and cutting board at him. «You wanna be helpful? Chop these and shut up. » For a second, he just looks at you. Then, smirking, he takes the knife, fingers brushing yours deliberately. « Yes, ma’am. »

You turn back to the stove, finally able to breathe. Turns out, you breath normally only for a couple of seconds before you feel his hand on your waist as he reaches past you for something in the drawer. It isn’t subtle, the kitchen is wide, and he could have easily walked without touching you. But Javier Peña doesn’t do subtle, never cared to.

You exhale sharply, gripping the spoon tighter.  «Javi…»

« Hmm what, hermosa? » he answers, taking his time choosing what he needs from the drawer. His mouth is near your ear when he speaks, his body almost fully against yours. You inhale. He smells good.

«Stop it» you warn him again, your voice weaker than you'd liked.

« Stop what exactly, baby? », he whispers. His left thumb lazily tracing circles against your waist. His other hand resting on the counter beside you, caging you in.

You hate the way your body reacted to his. The feel of his breath on your neck make you shiver. You close your eyes, rolling your head back a little and exhale. Fuck he was good.

«You know what you’re doing» you almost moan.

But just like that, you hear him chuckle and his body is gone.

You feel the cold air on your skin like a burn. You feel naked from the missing contact, your body missing his. You sigh and will yourself to go back to the stove, to ignore his triumphant smile.

A couple of minutes pass without either of you speaking. However, the kitchen feels more alive than ever. Every movement calling for you to react, the way he chops the vegetables slowly, the way he hums quietly, the way he brushes against you every chance he gets. It is suffocating. You want more.

You thought that maybe talking would break the tension. Mentionning the latest intel is always a good start.

« You know Ja-» A sharp smack on your butt cut you off.

You yelp, eyes going wide as you feel heat spreading where you got hit. Spinning around, you stare at him, shocked. «Did you just- »

Peña’s back is turned but you catch the smirk he doesn't hide well.

«Did I just what? » His voice is too casual, amusement dripping from every word.

That was all it took. You burst out laughing, already grabbing your own wooden spoon and smacking him right back.

The smack was harder than you thought it would be. You freeze for a second before laughing again catching his expression. His eyes drops to your lips before smiling mischievously.

You back away slowly, sensing retaliation coming. He seems pleased when his eyes detect the emotions painted on your face;  a mix of laughter and nervousness from the sudden shift.

Two strides and he is on you. Towering over you. His hands don’t reach for the spoon, instead, they grip your wrist, pulling you forward hard enough that you stumble into him.

Your hands flatten on his chest as the spoon clatters to the floor. You barely hear its impact over the pounding of your heart and your uneven breaths. His body is warm to the touch, it’s addictive and you have to fight the urge to move your hands to his neck, to feel his bare skin. Both his hands are on your waist now, tight, holding you in place. Not letting you go anywhere.

You don’t want to anyway.

Your smile falls. Your breath catches.  

His eyes darken, roaming over your face capturing every detail, memorizing the little reactions he provokes. He leans closer to you, breath warm against your skin and whispers low enough to make you shiver, « You want to hit me again, baby? »

 You don’t answer, you can’t. You only do the worst thing possible.

You bite your bottom lip.

His eyes lower to your lips, slowly and for a second, he looks like he is pain. « Fuck…»

His grip on your waist tightens even more and you feel your skin bruising already. He pulls you closer, like it is a need. Like the space between you has got to disappear.

Then, his mouth crashes into yours with force. You stumble backward for a second before his hand goes to the middle of your back and pull you back into him.

Your hands fly up, winding around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. He groans against your mouth, backing you up step by step until your lower back hits the counter.

The kiss is rough and desperate. Dangerous. His hands roaming up and down your body until they drop lower.

And lower.

His large and rough hands find your ass and squeeze shamelessly. You gasp from the sharp pain, and he takes advantage, sliding his tongue past your lips.

You moan softly against him. Head dizzy from his kisses.

He groans, voice rough, breathless against your lips. «You have no idea what you do to me. »

Your hands are in his hair now, tugging lightly. You feel drunk from the sudden proximity. « Yeah? », you tease, your voice shaky.

His hands press into your ass harder now, and then you feel him. Hard. Your breath catches as you feel the effect you have on him. His voice is low and smug against your mouth,

« Can I make it any more clear, baby? »

« Javi - » you moan again, before he shushes you by tugging on your lip.

Suddenly, his hands reach for the bottom of your thighs and in one swift motion, he lifts you onto the counter. You don’t have the time to react before he steps between your legs with his hands and presses his body into yours again. Closer than ever.

His mouth is on your neck now, leaving wet kisses and bites as he lowers more and more. You grip the back of his head, pushing him closer, needing more.

You feel him hard against you and, without thinking, you start moving your hips against him, desperate to feel the friction. Wanting so much more of him.

Then, your head hits the overhead cabinet. «Mmh, fuck- ow! », you gasp in shock, and you feel him chuckle against your neck.

Asshole. You tug roughly on his hair in retaliation. His groan is the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

His grips on your thighs tightens as he pulls you back in, urging you to keep going.

His mouth moves to your ear, breathless, desperate, « I want you so bad, baby. »

Your eyes fly open, then. Your breath catches. You go stiff. Reality slapping you on the face. Javier Peña is between your legs.

Javier Peña, the player of the DEA, of Bogotá, heck of Colombia.

Javier Peña, your partner. Your friend.

If you continue, he’ll give you the best night of your life. You’ll never recover from the way he touches you, kisses you, fucks you. But tomorrow, you’ll wake up and he’ll be gone.

It would be just another Friday night for Javier Peña.

And this can’t happen. You can’t be just another one-night for him. For the guy that you’ve liked for a moment now. You can’t.

Your body stiffens under him, and you know he felt it. His grip on your thighs tightens, like he knows you’re about to run, and he doesn’t want to let you go.

With superhuman self-control, you push lightly on his chest. «Javi, stop. »

He jerks away from you like he’s been slapped. He leans on the counter and stare at you, searching for an explanation that doesn’t come. Panting just as much as you are.

You know he feels it too, the ache of your bodies craving each other. He curses under his breath.

For a few seconds, the only sound filling the room is both of your breathing.

« What….», his voice his hoarse, deep. His eyebrows knit together in confusion and hurt. You know he doesn’t understand. He never will. You’ll never let him.

You bite your lip and push yourself off the counter. « I should go. »

Avoiding his gaze, you move toward the door. If you look at him now, you’ll let yourself hesitate. You’ll go back to him and finish what you started.

« Wait…» You hear him say. You don’t stop. You reach the doorway, shaking and start shoving your feet into your boots.

«Wait baby, c’mon where are you going. » You freeze for a second. His voice is not teasing or cocky like it usually is. It’s vulnerable, almost begging.

You swallow and open the door, still not daring to look at him.

« The Murphy’s.»

Before you can change your mind, you close the door behind you and walk away from the man of your dreams.

[altschmerzes]

🌹 anything related to being aro?

oh i love this one in particular. here's a clip from loneliness into loneliness, the two aces qpr fic, from the scene where jamie is basically asking dani to be in a qpr with him, though he doesn't use that specific word.

...

“I keep thinking that I just… I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before we got hurt,” he says. There’s a muffling static in his ears and his chest is tight. “You’re… You’re one of my very best friends, one of the best I’ve ever had, but I think I might want you to be more than that? Or, not more, more’s not it, just- different. I want to be something different.” It’s a weird and embarrassing thing to say and Jamie can feel his face heat up. He’s sure his cheeks and the tops of his ears and his neck are flaming red right now. This was a bad idea, he’s fucking this up, he’s just—

Dani doesn’t react like he’s said something insane. Instead, he just tilts his head to the side and is quiet for a moment. Then: “I thought you didn’t do that sort of thing?” he asks. “When you explained to us that you were aromantic,” he pronounces it carefully, an unfamiliar word he had learned because someone close to him had asked him to but that he still wasn’t quite sure he was using correctly, “you said it meant that you didn’t want to date?”

There’s another lurch in Jamie’s chest, another spike of cold fear down his spine. Of course Dani thinks that’s what he’s asking. How could he think it was anything else? This isn’t— Jamie doesn’t know how to do this. Nobody ever showed him how, it weren’t like there were movies or pop songs about this sort of shit. There’s never a part of the story where one person says to another I want to do most of the things people think of when they think about dating with you but not in a dating way. Maybe that’s a sign he shouldn’t be getting his interpersonal advice from stories, but it’s not like he’d ever seen anyone he knew do that either, so regardless he’s shit out of luck. “Oh, I mean, I don’t— It’s not— It’s not like that, it’s like…” Fuck, why did he think he could do this? Jamie’s chest feels all weird and narrow still, and he half wants to say never mind and hope they could both forget the whole thing. Except… Except that he still fucking wants this, don’t he? That’s the kicker. He still wants this, and apparently he wants it bad enough to try to figure out how to ask for it, even if he looks insane or stupid in the process. “It’s not like I’ve got those kinds of feelings for you or for anyone but there are like… There’s other kinds of relationships, I think. I’ve been reading more, right, and I think it’s possible to be together without… being together if that makes sense. I don’t know how to explain this.” As Jamie talks himself in circles, Dani is still watching him with curious, attentive eyes, and he doesn’t look like he hates what he’s hearing. What Jamie is saying doesn’t seem to be making him want to get up and run, or shut the conversation down, or… Or anything else, really. He’s just listening, waiting for what’s coming next. This is just encouraging enough that Jamie goes on in a sudden rush, the words nearly tripping over each other on the way out. “I mean, only if you think you’re interested in that sort of thing, I just— The way things have been since I came to stay here is like— I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been, in a weird sort of way.” It feels like something Jamie wasn’t supposed to admit, even though it’s true. He heaves a short, hard breath and knots his fingers together, hoping he’s making at least some kind of sense. Even if he isn’t, he has to keep talking. If he doesn’t “Here, with you. Living with you, being with you all the time, doing, just. Doing life together with you. Sleeping with you.” Jamie cringes at the way it sounds, and says, “I mean, not like, I mean— you know what I mean.”

[collophora]

haha I'll never finish this

but hewwo new followers <3

[callmesel]

Gonna publish this late at night so I don't regret it like 5 mins after posting

Compilation of two random Percy au

The more suggestive/indecent under the cut

not much but kind of

His neck is weird

[lilacxquartz]

i kind of like the idea of exploring a story that’s maybe like, idk. so you know me, i really the concept of kenjaku’s character. it’s so interesting. i love ancient evil that’s mysterious in general because it’s also just fun to write.

i’m thinking heian era original body, discovering their technique and their relationship with tengen. and just maybe them initially being good, while slowly descending into a monster. the decisions they had to take, the politics that they stirred up. god. so juicy.

[neiptune]

how many times can user somelattes share a post about feeling like absolute shit before all her mutuals block her challenge

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[zouisalmightie]

.

[fifteensjukebox]

i know im just having A Day but a conversation just ended w me feeling like i overstayed my welcome which made me feel like i simply shouldn't have bothered but i was asked to contribute !!

it's like. this was a spoken conversation but it's comparable to when u send one more text that's not actually adding anything to keep the conversation going and the person understandably doesn't reply

except my response felt necessary to me i can't just leave the conversation where it was left when the last thing said to me clarified something why shouldn't i have the opportunity to say "yeah i was going based on this incorrect information"

admittedly i am talking to one of the busiest people in existence at the moment (engineering student with midterms and a music career) but why does every conversation we have feel like this at the end

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: Attention, please. I understand a majority of you had plans this weekend. I want to be considerate of your time, so I'll make this brief. Lex Luther has hired a boy to seduce Wayne Enterprise secrets out of Tim. I need you to be weary at the gala. Dismiss.

Tim: Hold on hold on. I'm going to need a LOT more information than just that.

Bruce: I said dismissed Tim. Your siblings have plans.

Dick: *Raises a hand*

Bruce: Yes?

Dick: I can tell this approach is from the parenting books Uncle Clark got you, which is great. Thank you for trying, but we really need more details B. You can be considerate of our time by properly using it.

Bruce: hmmmm. Alright, if everyone feels this way. I suppose I can explain

Batkids: *Nodding*

Bruce clicking on the computer to show a picture: This is Daniel Fenton. His family used to own Fenton Works until the unfortunate loss of Mrs. Madeline Fenton in a car accident. Mr. Jack Fenton was convinced a ghost killed his wife. He was arrested after he crossed state borders chasing it and went on a rampage in downtown Gotham. He was deemed mad with grief and has been in Arkham for the last four years. Neither Jasmine nor Daniel were able to keep the family business afloat and were eventually bought out by Luthor.

Steph: I remember Mr. Fenton. He made that weird ray that was just throwing green goo on people. Besides scarying a few civilians, he didn't do anything bad. No one was harmed.

Bruce: That was the Fenton children argument as well. They were unable to get Mr. Fenton out of Arkham and into a different institution. I fear corruption is at play. During his stay in Arkham Mr.Fenton, has continued to create inventions, though no patent has been filed. All funds from said inventions are being made by local Mafia families instead.

Jason: Those thieves are preying on a grieving man. Rumors has it, Mr. Fenton isn't even aware his wife is dead. His mind blocked it, but he's slowly deteriorating. They're trying to squeeze out every drop of cash they can from him before his mind is completely gone.

Bruce: Exactly, and his children know it. Recently, Clark overheard Luthor offer Daniel a deal. He steals Wayne Enterprise secrets from Tim - probably got the idea after reading the article of Tim coming out, no doubt - and Luthor pulls enough strings to get Mr. Fenton out.

Tim: That's horrible. Is there any way we can help the Fentons instead? Move Mr. Fenton to a different place?

Bruce: I'm working it, but I believe Luthor is blocking my attempts. He did the same to Miss Fenton's college and loan applications. The pair are in a finical crisis that does not seem to get better no matter what they do. Luthor has employed similar tactics before.

Damian: Thus trapping the Fenton siblings in a box, unable to defy Luthor. They may be so desperate they would agree to anything after this many hardships.

Bruce: Exactly.

Tim: Alright I'll sleep with him

Cass: Literally, no one said you needed to sleep with him.

Tim: It's will be tough but I'll take one for the team.

Duke: Tim, that's not what B is saying at all.

Bruce: Wait, wait. I think Tim wants to sleep with Daniel Fenton. Hold on, let me consult the experts *opens parenting book*

Bruce: This isn't covered in the book. I don't know what to do.

Dick: I do. Tim, you're not sleeping with Daniel Fenton, but you are going to pretend his seduction is working. We're going to stop Luthor and the Mafia families controlling Arkham. We need to buy time to do that.

Tim: Kisses and over clothes stuff only. Got it.

Damian: Life has been hard for you since Dowd left you, hasn't it Drake?