#it's going to get worse before it gets better

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He can't sleep

The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. The warmth of sleep still clings to you, but something feels off. You shift, reaching out toward Simon’s side of the bed - only to find it empty.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. He’s there, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to you, broad shoulders tense and rigid. The air feels heavier, charged with something unspoken.

You don’t call out to him right away. Instead, you watch for a moment, taking in the way his hands are clasped together, his head slightly bowed. He’s deep in thought, lost in something heavy.

Slowly, you push the covers back and crawl toward him, the cool air brushing against your skin. Your fingers touch his back, tracing along his spine, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

“Simon?” Your voice is soft, hesitant.

He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the way his muscles tighten beneath your touch. A slow exhale leaves him, almost as if he’s trying to steady himself.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he murmurs, but his voice is off - low, strained.

You don’t listen. Instead, you move closer, pressing your cheek against his bare back, your arms circling around him from behind. His body is warm, solid beneath your touch, but there’s a distance in him that you don’t like.

“You’re awake,” you whisper against his skin. “And you’re not here.”

A heavy silence settles between you before he finally speaks. “Mission went bad.” His voice is rough, edged with something deeper. “Could’ve gone worse.”

You know better than to push for details- if he wants to tell you, he will. But right now, it’s not about the mission. It’s about this - whatever storm is brewing inside him.

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You press a soft kiss to the curve of his shoulder. “You’re home,” you remind him gently. “You’re here.”

Simon is still for a moment. Then, suddenly, his hands come up, gripping yours tightly against his chest. Not pulling them away - holding. Like he needs to feel you, needs to ground himself.

Then, he turns.

In a blur of motion, you’re beneath him, your back against the mattress, his body caging yours in. His weight presses into you, solid and heavy, pinning you there. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but you know that look - the quiet storm, the unspoken battle raging inside him.

His fingers trail up your thigh, slow, deliberate. Possessive. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane. The only thing that makes this life worth coming back to.”

Your breath catches as his grip tightens slightly, his body pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into you. His lips brush against your jaw, down to your neck, lingering there as he exhales shakily.

“I almost didn’t make it back to you,” he murmurs. “And that thought? It fucking destroys me.”

You feel the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. You reach up, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“But you did,” you whisper. “You did make it back.”

His lips find yours then, but it’s not just a kiss. It’s desperate, consuming - like he needs to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re his.

And tonight, you let him.

Tonight, you remind him that he’s yours, too.

~~~~~~

The first thing you feel when you wake up is him.

Simon’s body is wrapped around yours, solid and warm, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. His face is buried against the back of your neck, his breath slow and steady, ghosting over your skin.

He’s still here.

After last night - after the way he took you, claimed you, like he needed to drown in you just to stay afloat - you weren’t sure if he’d be gone by morning. Sometimes, when the weight of his past gets too heavy, he disappears into himself. But this time… he stayed.

You shift slightly beneath him, and his hold tightens instinctively, his fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You smile softly, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes are still closed, but you can tell he’s awake now. The tension from last night has faded slightly, but there’s still something lingering behind those dark lashes.

“Not even to get up?” you tease lightly, brushing your fingers over the rough stubble on his jaw.

“No.” His voice is rough, his grip firm. “Not yet.”

You exhale softly, pressing your palm against his chest. His heart is steady beneath your touch, strong. Alive.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

His eyes finally open then - half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but intense. His gaze locks onto yours, like he’s searching for something, like he’s making sure you’re still real.

“I know.” He lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over your lips before cupping your jaw. “But I need you here.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that makes your chest tighten.

“You have me,” you whisper. “Always.”

Simon doesn’t answer - not with words. Instead, he pulls you against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours. His grip softens, but he still holds you close, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

For once, he doesn’t need control. He just needs you.

And you give him exactly that.

[luvst4rc0r3]

"Hold Still, Please"

Jinx x GN!Reader

Warnings:Reader is hurt

WC:575

Note:This has been in my drafts for like 2 weeks by now.

The room was dimly lit, the faint hum of Zuan’s machinery echoing in the background as Jinx paced back and forth. The harsh clatter of medical supplies hitting the metal table was the only other sound. You sat on the edge of the worn-out mattress, biting back a wince as blood seeped through the tear in your side.

“Stay still!” Jinx snapped, her voice sharp but trembling. Her hands hovered over the gauze, shaking so much she dropped it twice. “You’re making it worse, stop moving!”

“Jinx,” you started softly, but she cut you off.

“No! Don’t ‘Jinx’ me right now! You—you’re bleeding, and it’s a lot, and it’s not stopping, and—” Her voice broke into a shaky exhale as she clutched her head. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. You said you’d be fine.”

You swallowed hard, guilt blooming in your chest. “I am fine. It’s just a scratch—”

“A SCRATCH?!” She whirled around, her wild eyes meeting yours. “That’s not a scratch, that’s—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her palms to her temples, pacing again. “What if I can’t fix this? What if I—what if you—”

She didn’t finish, but the panic was clear in her voice. The idea of losing you was clawing at her, louder and louder, drowning out anything else.

“Jinx.” Your tone was firmer this time, snapping her attention back to you. “Come here.”

She hesitated, her hands trembling at her sides, but you didn’t wait. You reached out, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer.

“Breathe,” you murmured, guiding her hand to your chest. “Feel that? I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breath hitched as her fingers pressed against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “But you could’ve… you could’ve died,” she whispered, her voice small and broken. “And I—I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“You’re not losing me,” you said firmly, cupping her cheek with your free hand. “I’m here, Jinx. But I need you to focus, okay? Help me patch this up so we can keep it that way.”

She sniffled, nodding slightly, though her hands were still shaking. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of blue hair out of her face. “I know you can. You’re the smartest, most badass girl I know.”

That earned you a shaky laugh, though it quickly dissolved into her biting her lip, focusing intently as she grabbed the gauze again. She worked quickly but carefully this time, her fingers steadier as she pressed it to your wound.

“You scared me,” she admitted softly, not meeting your eyes.

“I know,” you said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, swallowing hard as she tied off the bandage. “Don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try,” you teased lightly, and she glared at you with watery eyes before leaning in to press her forehead to yours.

“You better,” she muttered. “Because I’m not ready to lose you, and I never will be.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised again, your fingers threading through hers. “I’m always yours, Jinx.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile, though her eyes stayed misty. “Good. Because if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’m tying you to the bed so you can’t leave.”

You snorted softly, pulling her into a hug. “Deal.”

For now, the pain in your side was nothing compared to the relief of holding her close.

Short and sweet

I want food

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Tess’ jealousy reaches a new level when she finds out you might be pregnant.]

PART TWO

Angst

“The hell did you tell her?”

Tess stood silent and he knew right then and there…he knew she had told you about Sarah and scared you away.

It had been a little over a month since you and Joel had first gotten together, since then you both were inseparable. A few things had changed since Joel confessed his feeling for you although they weren’t exactly changes you hoped for. Tess was still around, silent but always obvious of her dislike towards you. Instead the changes involved a new task, a task that involved a young girl named Ellie. Marlene, whom Joel had known but didn’t seem to like had asked him to take Ellie to a group of firefly’s that would then take over where she needed to be taken to. The only reason he went along with it was because his last chance to get a working car fell through. Now Marlene promised him he’d have a working car to get to Jackson as long as he took Ellie where she was supposed to be.

One thing you noticed was Ellie seemed to be more gravitated to you than Tess, just another thing that pissed Tess off. Especially with seeing how Joel seemed to be getting closer to Ellie.

Ellie and you laughed together at certain jokes she would tell you, looking over you caught Joel trying to hold back a smile.

“You thought that was funny didnt you?” You teased walking beside them through the woods.

“Oh yeah, look at him, he could barely keep himself together” Ellie continued, poking fun at Joel. Tess rolled her eyes at the sound of the laughter, it’s like she hated hearing how well you all got along.

“Can we focus on where we’re goin’?” Tess called out over her shoulder without looking at any of you.

“Someone’s grumpy” Ellie whispered making you look down with a smile until it hit you again. The nausea you had been ignoring for the past week, the nausea that you’ve somehow managed to hide from everyone. At first you didn’t think anything of it but as the days went on, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on. Keeping track of your period was pointless with it never being on schedule anyways, so you weren’t alarmed when it didn’t come the same time as the month before. But now you were starting to feel all these things you had read about, all these symptoms you remembered this pregnant woman Dolores spoke about feeling.

Joel and Ellie hadn’t noticed you stopped at first until he looked over to see you weren’t walking beside Ellie. Quickly turning around he found you a few feet behind leaning over on a tree. Ellie noticed Joel’s look of concern and turned herself to see the same thing.

“Hey-“ Joel called out to you making you quickly look up.

“Oh god” you whispered to yourself.

“I’m fine” you attempted to assure him but you should’ve known better, Joel was already quickly making his way to you.

“What’s wrong? You alright?” He spoke low.

You couldn’t speak in that moment, quickly nodding to assure him that you were fine until you looked up. He must’ve noticed something because the look on his face only seemed more concerned than he originally was.

“Here take some water” he passed you his bottle that you quickly took. As if your nausea couldn’t get any worse, Tess’ voice made your stomach turn.

“What’s the hold up?” She called out.

“Give us a minute” Joel responded as she loudly sucked her teeth.

“We don’t have a damn minute, it’s gonna get dark soon” Ellie looked back at how rude Tess was and raised her brows.

“She’s fine, keep walkin’” Tess stubbornly spoke. You nodded quickly handing Joel his bottle of water.

“I’m fine, let’s go” you wiped your lips, still feeling the nausea but not as bad as it was just a few moments earlier.

“We can sit down for a moment” Joel insisted not giving two shits what Tess was saying.

“N-no. I’m fine”

“Let’s go” Tess insisted.

“Hey-“ Joel whispered delicately turning your face to him.

“Ya sure?”

Tess once again rolling her eyes crossing her arms.

“I’m sure, let’s go” you began to walk beside Joel catching up to where Ellie was as Tess walked off.

Throughout the walk you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, although you continued, he didn’t believe you were ok.

The first stop you all made was at a pharmacy, you were surprised to see there was any product left. Tess, Joel and you made sure the building was clear before checking what was left. Thankfully your nausea had gone away but you knew it would come back sooner or later, it always did around the same time every day. Joel was distracted looking in the back of the store while Tess was in a stock room. You watched as Ellie happily packed a few feminine products before you realized the very next aisle had a few things left that caught your eye. Quickly without anyone noticing you grabbed a box of pregnancy tests and some prenatal vitamins stuffing them into your bag just incase.

“I’m surprised there’s anything left in this place” Tess voice made you jump as you turned to find her behind you, her eyes darting between the few boxes of pregnancy tests left and you.

“What are you doing here?” She raised a brow. As if it was any of her business, but the second she saw you even eyeing a pregnancy test she couldn’t help herself. God she hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“N-nothing, I- I just-“ she squinted her eyes, changing her worried expression when you looked up at her.

“Oh god…he’s knocked you up…Hasn’t he?”

“N-no, I don’t know..I-“

“Oh…I feel sorry for you” she chuckled.

“he’s gonna hate you for this”

“What?” You whispered confused.

“You think he wants to have any more kids?” She laughed as you stood silent. More?

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s right…you don’t know certain things about him..” you could hear the taunting in her voice.

“What certain things?” You whispered.

“He never told you about Sarah, did he?” she seemed to get a kick out of this.

“Sarah?” Your chest felt as if it was caving in.

“No” you looked away in shock.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it but she died years ago…when this all started and it….it changed him.” You swallowed uncomfortably.

“He isn’t gonna want this, sweetheart. This will only upset him. You’ll see a side of him that’ll make you want to run away. You’re better off not even telling him if you are and just…taking off” you pressed your lips together holding back tears. For the first time Tess made sense to you.

“We can stay here for the night” Joel called out from the back quickly distracting you from the conversation. Without saying a word you quickly walked away, you had no idea to where but anywhere away from Tess. Of course that was when you ran into Joel.

“Hey-hey, what’s goin’ on?”

Joel could tell you were upset, his hand caressing the side of your face.

“Nothing, I’m just looking for stuff” you lied, you couldn’t even look at him.

“Did somethin’ happen?”

“No!” You stubbornly lied taking a deep breath.

“Just let me look at what they have left” you composed yourself and looked up at him. He silently nodded and let you walk off before looking up at Tess down the next aisle. She didn’t notice him looking at her and caught her chuckling to herself before walking away.

Ellie sat beside you pulling out a sandwich from her bag that Marlene had packed. The smell instantly striking you making you quickly turn your face. Ellie hadn’t noticed, you quickly stood up and ran off to the back room as Joel looked at you strangely.

“Just let her be already” Tess spoke as Joel stayed staring at the door you had ran into.

“If I were you, I’d ignore her” Tess snacked on a cracker as Joel stood up.

“Well I ain’t you and she ain’t your problem, she’s mine” he uttered under his breath as he walked off to where you were.

Hiding in the back you heard footsteps coming close, you already knew it was Joel and quickly turned away.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He stopped a few feet away making sure to give you space.

“Nothing, I just-“ you squeezed your eyes shut with your hand over your mouth as another strong wave of nausea hit you.

“You alright?” You heard him begin to get closer and snapped.

“I’m fine!” You screamed without turning back to him.

“Just get the hell away, give me a damn minute!”

He stood silent for a moment feeling defeated, hopeless. How could he not know what the hell was wrong with you?

“Did I do somethin’ to upset cha?” His question creating a knot in your throat. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to this way, but you knew it was the only way he’d listen.

“Just go” you whispered.

Joel took a step back silently leaving the room leaving you to cry alone. Still you hadn’t taken a test but you knew, you knew you were pregnant.

Later that night while everyone slept you found a private space and finally took the test. Just as you thought two bright pink lines appeared. You cried in a panic, it was all real now. Hiding the test and the packaging where it couldn’t be found you wiped your tears and grabbed your backpack, you knew what had to be done.

Never did you think in a million years that you would be needing Tess’ help, yet here you were carefully waking her up out of her sleep.

“Tess” you whispered, she looked up at you confused.

“I need you to help me get out of here without Joel or Ellie waking up. Distract them as much as you can so I can get as far as I can” a rush of excitement went through Tess as she sat up.

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to” you whispered.

“You did the pregnancy test?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, I just did” you pressed your lips together.

“Where do I tell him you went or why you left?”

“You don’t. You act like you never saw me leave, hell, I don’t even know where the hell I’m going. I just…I’m too afraid to tell him and I need to leave now.” Tess stood up straight as you struggled to hold your tears back.

“Take care of him for me ok?” You whispered through a trembling voice before turning away and as quietly as possible sneaking out of the store.

Tess for the first time in a while felt satisfied, her plan had worked. You were gone and Joel never knew you were pregnant but neither of you knew that as you spoke with Tess, Ellie lay awake listening to every word being said.

Afraid to say anything to Tess, Ellie lay quietly looking over at Joel. She didn’t know what Tess was doing but all she could hear was footsteps around her, she closed her eyes pretending to be asleep, she didn’t trust Tess.

Once she heard Tess finally walk into a room she quickly threw a rolled up paper at Joel and closed her eyes. At first he didn’t budge, making Ellie sigh and try once more, this time his eyes flung open. Squinting, she found him staring directly at her a few feet away before he began to look around and that’s when he realized you weren’t around.

Joel quickly stood up looking around the store just as Tess walked out of a back room with a surprised expression not expecting him to have woken up.

“Where is she?” He asked looking around as Tess hesitantly walked towards him.

“Um, I don’t know…I just woke up she must’ve snuck out-“

“Snuck out?” Joel turned to her with confusion as Ellie opened her eyes. Quietly she got up without saying a word to either of them, both of them distracted with what was going on Ellie wandered to the back.

Looking around for any possible evidence she needed, Ellie heard you say you had taken a test. Of course, there it was, an opened pregnancy test box stuffed between 2 bricks in the wall. God you were sneaky. Inside the box lay the positive test you had taken, Ellie quickly ran out to Joel who was in the middle of a heated conversation with Tess.

“Joel!” She ran to him as he looked down at her confused. Without saying a word she handed him the box, Tess’ eyes widened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” She whispered.

“The hell is this?” Joel looked inside the box.

“It was y/ns, I heard her say she took a test Joel” his brows furrowed as he pulled the test out of the box and read the positive results. His face turning pale as he realized what he was looking at before he snapped back to reality. His eyes darkened, looking straight up at Tess.

“The hell did you do?” He whispered coldly.

“I-I didn’t do anything, Joel, you barely knew her-“ Joel stepped forward with a deadly look in his eyes making Tess step back.

“The hell did you tell her?”

Tess stood silent and he knew right then and there…he knew she had told you about Sarah and scared you away.

“She needed to know about Sarah, Joel, she’s here thinking you two can actually have this-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” Joel responded as he began to pack his back pack.

“Oh come on, Joel, you know damn well you don’t want that baby” he stopped moving, the silence so tense Ellie held her breath. Joel stood up and slowly walked towards Tess-

“If anything happens to her or my baby, I’ll find you.” Tess couldn’t believe how Joel was speaking to her. Speechless she watched as he walked out and called Ellie to follow.

He had no idea how or where he was going to find you but he knew his priorities were now only you and the baby and he was going to make sure he found you.

Joel’s tags

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @heartpatch @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @lonely-ey3s

@elliesr1fle @ro-nahime-things

@readingiskeepingmegoing

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi! Btw It’s my first time on this blog & Love your scenarios! Just wanted to Ask in general: would Yandere military contractor ever be amused by an mc who’s very willing or will he want more of a struggle from them? 💝

Yandere! Military Contractor x Affectionate Reader

Hmm, I've said before that he's the kind of guy who takes what he wants from you regardless. But no matter how monstrous, he's still a man. Deep down, he wants you to want him back.

The thing that scares him though? The inherent vulnerability that brings. He's used to covering all his bases, used to squashing down his emotions to get the job done - to the point where he's numb and dull to almost anything. Admitting, even to himself, that he needs you in that way? Absolutely not happening.

Even when he was watching you - weeks spent on the roof of the building across from your apartment, hours parked outside your work - he always told himself it was just curiosity. Just an itch that he needed to scratch. He'd feel better once he had his hands on you, that's all. He'd stop thinking about fucking you once he got it out of his system.

Such a great liar that he doesn't even realise when he's doing it to himself. The second he had you - skin on skin, your throat under his teeth - he told himself he'd keep you just a little longer. Just to really work out his frustration. Gotta get his fill so when it's over he doesn't get the craving again.

But he's never full enough.

No matter how much he's had you - crying or whimpering or even begging him not to stop - it's never enough. There's this thing inside him that always wants more, wants it different. On your back, flipped onto your stomach, up against the wall with your forehead in the crook of his neck, begging, crying, laughing. All of it. All the time.

He holds you at night and tells himself tomorrow, I'll let her go tomorrow. But tomorrow never quite seems to come.

When you start wanting him back, kissing him, pressing against him at night, he isn't sure what to think. You're clever. This could all just be a trick.

Showing him affection just makes him sink his teeth in deeper, makes him fuck you harder, makes him double lock the doors everynight. Makes him want to break you under him because how can you be so cruel? Giving him what he's wanted all along but doesn't deserve? He lives in fear of you taking it back, changing your mind.

Fucking you so rough that you're sobbing, snarling in your ear that he'll be nice if you say 'I love you.' Liar. It just makes him worse.

[reidrum]

i need you to fill the void

a/n: it's my birthday so pls don't say damn when you see that this is angst

summary: in which spencer seeks another vice post tobias

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, not smut centered though, angst, mentions of addictions, poor coping habits for both spencer and reader, toxic!spencer, situationship, excessive em dash usage

wc: 2.1k

The frigid bite of the night greets you as you walk outside to your car. The cold is sobering, almost warning you as you trek into a journey the sky has seen many times. 

It had been three months since Spencer’s kidnapping, two months since you found out he was going to Narcotics Anonymous before the roundtables, and one month since you realized you were the only person who could help him.

Knowing he was struggling through his addiction on his own—though, you knew the team was fully aware and simply chose to not do anything about it—made you feel like shit. It wasn’t even your fault, you were back at the main cabin with Emily going over the case when you figured out the unsub was Tobias Hankel. Somehow you felt worse than JJ who was actually there with him, because you should’ve figured it out sooner. You saw the behavioral signs pointing to him. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? Maybe it was your fault.

At least, that’s what you continue to tell yourself night after night as you make the five minute drive to his apartment always nearing the witching hour. Spencer wouldn’t feel this hopeless if you had just been smarter, faster. But you weren’t, and now he was suffering. You didn’t know how to help him, how to make him feel better—if he was even capable of healing. So you offered him what you could, which was everything.

And he took what he needed—which was everything.

You raise your hand and softly knock on the door. Three times, never more, never less. Footsteps pad closer to the door on the other side before slowly opening revealing Spencer in his blue plaid pajamas and one of his many punny science t-shirts. Tonight’s was Never trust an atom, they make up everything!

The routine is easy to fall into, you take your shoes off while he removes your coat. You walk to the couch and he goes to the kitchen, preparing tea just the way you like it. When he returns, you’re already curled up in your usual spot on the couch and he slips in beside you like it was made for him. Like you didn’t spend so much time tearing it down and building it up hoping he’d find at least one of the versions to be familiar. 

“Had a good day?” he murmurs into your shoulder before claiming the spot with a kiss. Familiar.

You nod, “You?”

“It was bad after the roundtable this morning,” his lips traverse your collarbone, “better now, though.”

The warmth blooms in your chest at his little admission. Familiar. You know the warmth isn’t viable, but for the few moments of life in which it exists you will bask and let it consume you.

His hands have traveled around your waist tugging you closer to him with a confidence he’s slowly worked up to over the course of your encounters. It still surprises you when he initiates anything, the Spencer you had met on your first day at the BAU—joining only a week after him—could barely say two words to you let alone look you in the eyes.

The Spencer in front of you now lets his fingers play with the hem of your shirt with a slight hesitancy. They shake, but you know it’s not from the nerves. You don’t mention it.

“Couch or bedroom?” you coax gently.

“Bedroom.” He releases his hold on you and stands from the couch, holding a hand out for you. You take it and follow him down the hallway, the warmth inside you slowly fading as you get closer.

You’re barely through the bedroom door when Spencer tugs you back into his arms and kisses you voraciously, his hand cupping your face while the other presses you impossibly closer to him as he can. This is the part where the flip switches—when you both stop playing house and Spencer remembers what he needs you for.

His anxious hands turn greedy as they tug your shirt off and work on your pants, you pepper kisses along his jaw and turn your bodies to push him onto the bed. He stares up at you in anticipation as you unhook your bra and he hurriedly takes his pajamas off. It’s muscle memory from this point on, he scoots back to lean against the headboard as you crawl up and straddle him. 

You know what he needs to feel placated enough so the urges won’t overtake and drown him. He looks up at you like you’re the salvation he’s been waiting for, the vice that helps him walk away from his sin.

There is no salvation without sacrifice—but Spencer didn’t need to know that, he isn’t the one who will be sacrificed.

He positions your hips over his own and you slowly guide yourself down onto him, blissed out sighs leaving both of you as you take in all of him. You wait for a minute to adjust and then slowly lift your hips up and back down, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

Spencer doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how it feels to have you wrapped around him. It’s intoxicating, dangerous, compulsive. He wonders how people can resist temptation when the gratification feels like this.

Your hips stutter and falter from their pattern, the muscle fatigue getting to you fast. “Sorry, just need a second.” you pant.

“S’okay, you want to switch?” He gently flips you over so you’re laid back on the bed before giving you the chance to answer. He doesn’t usually get on top, but recently Spencer has tasted the forbidden fruit that hangs low from your branches and found that it feels better than anything he’s ever taken with a needle.

The addiction has a power that compels him to use according to its agenda, and he really can’t remember the last time he’s felt in control of his own body. The addiction tells him when to use, and he listens.

But whenever he’s with you, he doesn’t have to fight any compulsion—you’re already offering it up for him to take.

He guides himself back inside you slowly, leaning down once he bottoms out to kiss your cheek tenderly. “Okay?” You nod and he pulls back, pushing your leg up to delve deeper. Spencer’s making sure he’s taking all that he can—he doesn’t know how long he’ll last before the urges come back for him.

His hips set a comfortable pace, fueled by the whines that tumble from your lips. He can’t get enough of you, he’d put the drugs down forever if he could feel like for the rest of his life. You both chase your highs and come undone at the same time, the praises falling out of him like they belong to you. Spencer pulls out and lays beside you while both of your breathing evens out. He doesn’t leave right away–he is a gentleman, after all–so he’ll get up after a few minutes and grab a wet cloth to gently clean you up, slip into the blankets again and hold you close yet so far away.

You’ll make yet another effort to reach out and connect with him in a way much more intimate than you think either of you deserve.

“I like what we have right now, it’s just not what I’m looking for.”

“I’m not in a good place, it wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

And the worst one, “I care about you too much to do that to you.”

It continues like this for months. A call in the dead of the night and you come running at the ring of the bell. Under the guise of being a good friend and completely disregarding any other harbored feelings you hold, failed attempts at building something more. You know you have to do this. You were not fast enough before, and so you must give everything you have now. 

Spencer grows comfortable in the next months, complacent and sure that whenever the urges come for him you’ll drop everything. Every encounter after chips away at you, but it makes him stronger so it must be worth it. 

Some nights are harder than others, the withdrawal eating away at him faster than you can feed it. You’ve rarely seen him be mean before, always too timid to speak out of line. But the symptoms have reduced him to primal desire and suddenly he’s demanding and pervasive.

“You’re late.”

“You said you’d be here an hour ago, what was more important than this?”

“I needed you, where were you?”

“Should’ve gotten here sooner, don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.”

It’s nice to be relied on, it gives you a sense of purpose. He’ll be mean for a bit while he lets the addiction withdrawal displace him momentarily, but regains his bearings the second you walk through his front door. Over time, the shaking is starting to subside, the irritability slowly fading. The warmth in your chest returns thinking about the little moments between the sheets when he hushes your mistaken cries for pleasure with gratitude for your service. “Thank you, baby.” and “You’re so good to me.” falsely secure you as you continue to give what’s left of you.

You suppose you can’t exactly be upset or even surprised that he saw you as nothing more than a warm body in his bed. If you were the entity keeping Spencer tethered to this realm then you’ve strengthened him enough to stand on his own two feet. 

That should be a good thing.

When you’re in the bullpen the week after it shouldn’t surprise you when Derek claps his shoulder with a resounding “My man” as he turns his blushed face to the floor. Before the blush can rise on your face at the prospect of someone discovering your rendezvous, Derek continues with, “It’s about time you asked her out.”

Spencer never asked you out.

“You finally asked out Austin?” JJ chirps. Austin, bartender, Waco case.

But you built him up yourself, you should be proud of your handiwork.

“She just moved up here and needed someone to show her around. That’s all it is.” Spencer flushes, a clear sign that it is in fact not all it is.

Emily remarks how he looks happier than he has in weeks, Penelope squeals in excitement, Hotch and Rossi even look down from the landing in subtle interest.

The warmth inside returns again with an edge this time, a burning sensation that reveals you held it too close to your heart. Familiar. It takes everything in you to school your face and hold your tears in as you faintly whisper, “I’m happy for you, Spence.”

Because you are happy–this is what you wanted for him, to feel normal again. If he achieved it without you then who are you to blame him for? You served your purpose, and now you can rest.

Right?

–

Spencer doesn’t call you for three weeks.

You try not to think about it when he comes in late the next day with his tie askew and hair in a tousled mess. It doesn’t bother you when he finally accepts the O’Keefe’s invite and shows up with her. You have to consciously unclench your heart when his laugh sounds loud and genuine throughout the jet–but that’s nothing you haven’t done before for him.

When your phone rings again in the witching hour for the first time in weeks, it catches you off guard. You roll over grabbing the phone and answering it without even looking at the caller. 

“Hello?”

Silence, then shallow and labored breathing. You look down at your phone, sitting up fully when you read the ID, “Spence? What’s wrong?”

He gulps, “I…I almost…”

Your heart drops, “Are you okay?”

“Y–Yeah, think so. I didn’t..But..” he stutters, “Fuck, do you think you could–” he trails.

The tears spring to your eyes before you can help it, barely shutting them in time before they break down your face. Familiar.

“Be there in five.” you say evenly before hanging up.

The frigid bite of the night greets you in a mocking taunt as it watches you trek to your car. Three knocks. He greets you with red rimmed eyes at the door, clad in a Schrodinger's cat walks into a bar…t-shirt. The routine is easy to fall into–shoes and coat off, cup of tea before putting the TV on. You hope he accepts this version of you this time.

Inhale. Exhale. “Bedroom?”

[gothicflowers]

damn why did Kyle’s ass block us tho

Continuing this Gaz blurb

*4 months later*

Gaz still felt guilty, and even worse… he couldn’t get off without recalling the way your body moved and voice sounded that night. Gaz was ruined. The innocent pictures he had of you when you two went to the beach once were like a playboy magazine to him. He tried a few hookups from shitty pubs but none compared to how you made him feel. Loved, warm, safe… happy.

He tried going on a few dates… one he accidentally called her your name as they were making out in his car. The other looked like you but lacked personality. Needless to say karma was biting Kyle in the ass.

“So you blocked her, after you took her to the fanciest steakhouse, wine back at her place while sharing secrets… and had the best shag of your life” soap says from the other side of the aircraft. “And let’s not forget all the cute couple shit you two had been doing”

“Who we talking about” ghost questions.

“Lass that Gaz was seeing months ago, and bloody blew it after a quick shag from the sound of it” soap snickers.

“I thought you were still seeing her” ghost questions.

“I didn’t think I’d actually sleep with her, that wasn’t my goal. And no, it’s been a while” gaz defensively replied.

Soap pinches the bridge of his nose “so your original plan was essentially a break off date”.

Gaz shrugs “I didn’t want her last memory of me to be me saying see you later after our usual Sunday walk. Plus we were never technically together”.

Prices eyebrows raised “So you just strung her along for a month and you were going to ghost her regardless of how the night ended”.

“Well… yeah and it was actually more like five months” gaz sheepishly replied.

The men went silent as they gathered their thoughts. Price being the first to speak up after a painful awkward silence “five months, you bastard she probably was falling in love with you, then you decided to pull the shittiest move a man can make”

“I panicked” Gaz shrugs and diverts his eyes from his captains burning gaze.

Ghost chuckles “wrong, you premeditated disappearing from her life. Sounds like you got a fear of commitment”.

Gaz defensive responds “I do not, it’s just with what we do it’s not worth the risk. I mean what if something happens”

“Sounds exactly like something a person with commitment issues would say” ghost quickly replied.

Soap decides to add fuel to the fire “Aye didn’t you do the same thing with the last gal you liked. Maybe it’s the chase you like. Love ‘em and leave ‘em“.

“Fuck off soap” Gaz responds trying to control his irritation.

Price sighs “I didn’t realize how much of my life I wasted having that mentality when I was your age. Had some fun one night stands but the loneliness catches up real quick. Granted things are turning up for me but boy do I feel like I missed out on that young love”.

Gaz starts to think about what price said. After a plane ride home in deep thought he asks price one last question before departing base “So what should I do to get her back”

Prices brows furrowed “You want something optimistic or something realistic”

“Fuck, realistic I guess” gaz leans against the doorframe of prices base office.

Price stands next to a filing cabinet and shakes his head “Honestly I’ll be amazed if she gives you as much as a moment to explain. But if she’s does let you, be honest about why you left and apologize. No point in lying when you have everything to gain and you can’t lose what you’ve already lost Sargent” price gives him a sincere look “regardless of how it turns out you need to let this be a teaching moment. Because maybe she doesn’t take you back, maybe life sends someone else your way. But if you get that lucky you know better than to fuck it up like this ever again”.

Gaz nods “Would flowers be a nice addition to the apology”.

Price smirks “I don’t think flowers will help your cause much, but maybe it’s sweeten her up”.

Gaz nods “thanks, see you later captain”

Gaz needs a plan to get you back, forever hopefully.

*the next day*

She wasn’t even home. So Gaz decides on waiting to see if you’ll come home anytime soon by sitting on your front door steps for two hours. He has no plans to leave until he sees your pretty face.

Gaz scrolls endlessly on his phone when the sound of heels awaken his senses, only to actually look up when he hears your voice “What are you doing here” you very clearly are not happy to see him.

Gaz stands up with flowers in his hand, clearing his voice he carefully starts his plan “I came to explain, but more importantly apologize”. Gaz sheepishly said.

Your eyes look down at the flowers in his hand, appalled. “No need honestly, I’ve moved on and I think you should to”.

Shit this isn’t going well Gaz thinks. Time to take the soft puppy dog approach. He takes a step forward to you and his eyes fill with hurt “Would you at least let me explain, if you don’t want to hear it I’ll leave now but at least let me be honest as to why I ran off”

You huff defeated, hard to say no when he’s looking at you like that but you can’t give in. “Nothing you can say will change my mind”.

“My job. It’s dangerous and I was worried that it wouldn’t work out because of the demands. And I didn’t plan on sleeping with you. Honestly I just wanted you to have a nice night before I disappeared” gaz trying to reach for your hand, you move back.

“That’s great Kyle. Well my boyfriend just left his office and I’m making dinner, so I really don’t have time for this” you fumble with your keys, as they slip to the ground Gaz picks them up and unlocks to door for you.

“At least let me help carry all this in for you and I’ll be on my way” he politely asked. Praying you’ll let him in.

You sigh a defeated “Fine”. You walk in the door first as Gaz grabs the rest of the bags on the porch. He watches as your hips sway, he can feel the blood in body start to boil. Stay calm, stay fucking calm.

Your home still smells like fresh cotton and lavender. Still perfectly tidy and comfortable. He looks over at that corner sofa where you two made out. He closes the front door and walks to the kitchen and sets the groceries on the counter, he notices a silver watch with a rather large band. Must be a big fella. That’s when he hears the front door open and close. A heavy set of footsteps approaches silently.

“I think you should get going now” you say plainly avoiding Kyle’s burning gaze. He hurt you too much for you to have a moment of doubt.

A deep voice speaks as the footsteps stop at the kitchen “Sargent”.

Gaz turns around to the voice in the room and swallows hard.

“Captain”

Pt.3

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (8)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, fluff, mentions of being cruel to animals (no description), idiots in love

How to cure a grump (7)

How to cure a grump masterlist

“The poor little thing,“ you sniffle on your way home. After you found the kitten, and the kiss making you weak in the knees, you weren’t in the mood for figure skating. “How could anyone throw you into a dumpster?”

Bucky is silent. He holds the kitten close to his warm chest and protects it from the cold with his warm coat. “People can be cruel.”

Your mind is racing. Everything happening not half an hour ago has you doubting your opinion about Bucky.

He defended you and punched your ex. And then, he kissed you again.

How could he kiss you again?

Your former boss is a mystery to you. One moment he’s the worst, and the next he’s a sweet man saving a dirty kitten from a dumpster.

“We need to go to a vet,” he says, breaking the silence. “Right?” He cocks his head to look at you. “I never had a pet before.”

“Let’s head home for now. Doc Carter is on vacation this year. I think the kitten needs food, warmth, and a place to sleep for now,” you glance at the kitten. It lifts its head to look up at Bucky, meowing loudly. “I bet the little furball is hungry.”

“Food. Right,” Bucky says as he looks down at his body to check on the kitten. “Poor punk. Who did this to you? Tell me their name, and I’ll get them arrested or worse.”

“I guess we’ll never find them,” you murmur as Bucky stops in his tracks. “That’s how things go most of the time, Bucky.” You carefully pat the cat’s head. “Sweetie got lucky we found them in time. It’s going to snow more and get colder tonight.”

“Sweetie,” Bucky wrinkles his nose. “That’s an awful name for a cat.” His features soften seeing the little kitten in his arms look back at him. “We will find a better one.”

“We will see,” you reply, determined to name the kitten yourself. Bucky has no right to name them. You heard them meow first.

“What a sweet little creature!” Your mother exclaims, watching Bucky carefully place the kitten he carried back home on a warm blanket. He checks on the creature, humming as the kitten nuzzles his hand. “Where did you find it?”

“In a dumpster!” Bucky angrily replies. “Can you believe someone threw this little kitten away?” He sniffs before carefully lifting the kitten. “Hmm…boy or girl?”

Your mother chuckles as he looks her way. “Let me,” she offers, and carefully lifts the kitten’s tail. “She’s a little girl.” Your mother smirks as Bucky moves the blanket and kitten closer to his side. “No wonder she wants to be close to you, Bucky.”

The kitten desperately meows and tries to climb onto Bucky’s hand. “Hey, slow down. You need food, and sleep.”

“I can prepare food for the poor thing. We found more than one stray kitten over the years,” your mother offers. “How about you go to the living room? It’s warm and you can sit on the couch. I’ll be right there with food for the kitten.”

Before you get the chance, Bucky carefully picks the blanket and kitten up, carrying it out of the kitchen and toward the living room. You huff. “Why don’t you give the kitten to me? You’ll go back to New York soon. I will stay here, and I can take care of them.”

Bucky squares his jaw. Again, you had to remind him of his mishap.

“You’ll have a job when you come back after the holidays. The kitten, though, is mine.” He states, not leaving room for arguments. “I save them.”

“You don’t even know how to take care of the kitten,” you argue, and snarl his name, ready to fight for the kitten.

“I know damn well how to tame a bratty creature,” he growls and steps closer, stopping right in front of you. Bucky's hands twitch to push you against the wall and kiss you again, but your mother walks inside the living room.

“Awe, don’t fight,” she coos. “You are going to take good care of the kitten, together.” She winks at you. “Let’s feed the kitten first.”

“Bucky Barnes,” you hiss, as you knock at the door of the guest room. “Give me the kitten.” You enter the room without waiting for an answer.

“I won’t give you the kitten,” Bucky grunts in your direction. He settled on the bed, the blanket with the kitten right next to him. “Her name is Alpine, and I already ordered everything she’ll need online.”

“Alpine?” You cock your head and huff. “What gives you the right to name her?” You growl. “James Buchanan Barnes just walks into town; kisses people he fires and claims their kitten!”

Bucky smirks. “Not so loud,” he replies as he slowly slips out of the bed. “I saved her and brought her here. She likes me, and I named her because Alpine is my kitten now.”

“You—” you huff, frustrated. Fighting with Bucky won’t get you anywhere. “Why do you want the kitten? You’re not the kind of man caring for a pet, or people or anything.”

“I care for a few people,” he argues. “Steve, my best friend since childhood is one of them. I don’t care about many people, but if I do, I do it unconditionally.”

“Sure.” You snap at him. “You care only about your buddy and money. I bet you’ll forget to feed the poor kitten.”

“Alpine,” he growls and pushes you against the wall, holding you there. “Her name is Alpine. I decided to take good care of her, and this means I will take good care of her.”

His lips are back on yours. He silences your protests and anger with his lips, swallowing every bad word as your fingers tangle in his hair. Bucky wraps his arms around you to lift you off your feet and help you wrap your legs around him.

“I hate you so much,” you growl against his lips before kissing him again. You close your eyes for a second, ignoring the voice telling you not to play with fire. You’ll get burned, but you don’t care…

[matchatarot]

Hi my little bunny! To pick a pile don’t overthink it and chose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. For my first ever tumblr tarot reading I decided to connect with your spirit team and ask them what message they would like to share with you. Hope it resonates! Love, Matcha ♡

Pile 1 ₊˚. ༄

My love stop being so hard on yourself! We love you so much! Everything you need is in your own heart, your light is so loving, so beautiful, so healing, so creative, let it out! Stop looking at other’s expectations of who they want you to be and instead be guided by your inner light. You are not stuck like you think you are! You have everything you need right now. Set yourself free from those mental chains. You are your own savior. Spend time with yourself, not just spending time alone, actually get to know yourself. You need to integrate the shadows, get to know the dark parts of yourself but also get to know what makes your heart full of love and what makes you shine. You don’t need to address other’s doubts when it comes to your path. You’ re the one that knows best.

11:11 333 369hz

Pile 2 ୭̥° ✧

You did it! You listened to us! You’ve let go of that thing that kept holding you back and we’re so proud of you. You don’t have to look back, because you did what had to be done and now so much is coming for you! If you knew how many great things we have prepared for your life you would simply not believe it. Get ready! You changed for the best! The new You deserves compensation for all the work you did to better yourself, to be kind. You give hope to others, you’re a treasure, we’re so lucky to have you on earth. Don’t worry, you did the hard work and now your blessings are coming, settle in your new mindset, your new body. You’re more connected to your soul than you’ve ever been. Balance, justice, harmony and love are coming your way. Don’t stop dreaming, continue evolving.

Wild World by Cat Steven’s, 222 888

Pile 3 ‧₊˚♡

Take a deep breath with me please. There’s something heavy in your energy, there’s something you need to address that you’ve been scared of. But there’s no answers in looking away. Make your research, ask the opinions of your peers, whatever you do start putting your energy in solving this matter, you need it to continue building your future. There’s an addiction controlling your thoughts, what is it? I think you need to talk to someone before you start heading in the wrong direction, there’s some work you’re doing that can’t bare any fruits because you’re not addressing that one thing. The anxiety, the fears are just gonna get worse if you don’t. Please drink enough water and get enough rest. Tune yourself to your intuition. You got this! We love you.

555 888 333 639hz

decks used for this reading: l’oracle du chemin spirituel by Valérie Defour & Valérie Saussez, the angel’s tarot by Doreen Virtue & Radleigh Valentine, modern witch tarot deck by Lisa Steele

[zuhaism]

i saw you have a sophia fic brewing and i’d love to req for literally ANYTHING ELSE YOU HAVE OF HER. she’s such a perfect muse and i just love reading people’s thoughts on her 🥹🥹 any hcs?

pairing : sophialaforteza x brothersbff!reader

a/n : THIS IS LIKE A SPOILER FOR MY SOPHIA FIC COMJNG OTW. my it girl this month is sophia i love her face omg and her kindness on dream academy i cant. my angel.

• sophia who tries to convince her friends she’s not into you and it was just a silly childhood crush. "i don't like her like that," she insists, arms crossed, looking almost offended at the accusation. her friends, however, know better. they exchange glances, barely holding in their laughter.

• she gives herself away all the time. like when she immediately straightens up whenever you walk into the room. or how her gaze subconsciously follows you when you’re talking to someone else. manon smirks. “oh, and what about how you always go quiet when she’s around?” “i do not—” daniela cuts in, deadpan. “you literally stop mid-sentence.” and right on cue, you walk by—brushing past sophia with a casual “hey, soph.” sophia freezes. entirely. her friends just watch. they watch as she visibly tenses, eyes wide, jaw slightly clenched like she’s trying to not react. the moment you disappear down the hall, her friends burst into laughter. "SHUT UP," she groans, face burning.

• whenever you call her name unexpectedly, she turns around way too fast and then tries to act normal, like her heart isn’t racing. her stomach flips at the sound of your voice saying her name, but she plays it off by raising an eyebrow. “what?” she asks, trying to look like she doesn’t care, crossing her arms. you just smirk, shaking your head. “nothing, you just looked cute in my jacket.” her friends bursts into laughter at how fast she turns beet red. “i thought this was Basil’s,” she tries to brush it off, tugging at the sleeves like that’ll somehow make the situation less mortifying.but then you tilt your head, smirking, “well, maybe this should be yours.”

• her friends gave eachother knowing glances and teasing smiles to sophia. she’s trying so hard not to react, but she can’t even come up with a snarky response her face is burning, her heart is pounding, and she’s pretty sure she just forgot how to breathe. “whatever,” she mutters, turning away in an attempt to save face, but she doesn’t take the jacket off. in fact, she wears it the rest of the day, pulling the sleeves over her hands whenever no one’s looking. sometimes she wears it at home but no one knows that of course.

• if you ever ruffle her hair or flick her forehead playfully, she’ll grumble about it but secretly loves the attention. “y/n, stop it,” she huffs, swatting your hand away, even though her ears are already turning pink. but the second you turn around, she’s fixing her hair with a small, hidden smile. her friends definitely catch it. if you don’t do it for a few days, she wonders if she did something wrong. like, are you mad at her? did you get bored of messing with her? she tells herself she doesn’t care, but when she sees you approaching in the hall, she stands a little closer, waiting to be fake annoyed.

• and when you finally ruffle her hair again, she’s about to grumble like usual, but then “ugh, y/n—” “hold on,” you cut her off, and before she can process it, you’re smoothing her hair back into place, carefully fixing the strands you just messed up. her breath catches. she just stares up at you, wide-eyed, completely frozen as your fingers lightly graze her scalp. her face is burning. “there. much better,” you say casually, like you didn’t just ruin her entire day in the best way possible.

• and then, to make things worse you give her a light pat on the head. like she’s some flustered little puppy. “good girl.” sophia doesn’t even breathe. she just stands there, stunned, mouth slightly open like she’s about to say something but nothing comes out. she watches you walk away with her brother groaning at you. once you were out of earshot her friends lose their minds immediately.

• megan is the first to react, nearly choking. “GOOD GIRL??” she gapes at soph, then turns to the others. “did i hear that right?” manon leans in, smirking. “sophia… if you’re still not into her, i’ll gladly take your place.” daniela hums, side-eyeing you as you casually walk off. “honestly? if you’re serious you dont want her, it’s open season.” sophia finally snaps out of it, whirling around. “SHUT UP. ALL OF YOU.”her friends just laugh, shaking their heads, because she’s so obvious.

• when she’s walking in the cafeteria, she subtly checks if you’re already there. if you are, she pretends she didn’t see you, but if you wave, she instantly wave back. sometimes, she tries to act like she’s so busy looking at her phone, but the second you greet her, her focus snaps to you. her wave is always a little awkward too stiff but you smile anyway, which makes it worth it.

• if you casually drape your arm around her shoulders, she stiffens for a solid three seconds before melting into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. the first time it happened, she froze like a deer in headlights. now, she tries to act unbothered, even tilting her head slightly against you but if anyone teases her about it, she immediately pushes you off with a glare (but she doesn’t really mean it).

• the first time it happened, it was so unexpected. you had just casually thrown an arm around sophia’s shoulders like it was second nature—like it was normal. but for her? she almost passed out. meanwhile, you? completely unbothered. just chatting away like this was the most natural thing in the world. and after a solid three seconds of internal chaos, she relaxed. melted, even—because your arm was warm, your presence was familiar, and if she leaned just a little into you.

• tilts her head slightly against you? sure. shifts a little closer? okay. lets herself enjoy it? absolutely not. because the second someone (usually megan or manon) raises an eyebrow as they walk down the hallway, she immediately stiffens, shoving you off with a glare. "get off, y/n." you just laugh, raising your hands in surrender. "okay, okay." then she goes off to regroup with her friends. ignoring the way her cheeks burn. megan grins as she comes over. "you literally didn't care five seconds ago." "i DIDN’T NOTICE," sophia argues, glaring at her. but later at home, when you do it again effortlessly slinging your arm around her like it belongs there. she doesn’t push you away. she just pretends not to hear her heart pounding.

• whenever your band plays at school events, sophia acts completely unbothered. arms crossed, face neutral, like she’s barely paying attention. but the second the song ends? she’s the first to cheer. loud. enthusiastic. maybe even a little too eager. she swears she’s just there for her brother. just supporting the school. not because you’re on stage looking stupidly good under the lights. definitely not that. but her friends aren’t blind. her eyes never leave you the entire performance.

• and when you’re learning a new song? she’s suspiciously invested. “you should play this one next,” she says, casually sliding her phone across the table with a playlist already queued up. “oh?” you smirk, leaning in a little too close. “you been thinking about my setlist, baby?” immediate regret. her ears turn red. "shut up. just listen to it." and it doesn’t stop there. she finds excuses to hang around when you’re practicing in her basement with Basil and the others. she says it’s ‘boring’ at home, but everyone knows better.

• Basil groans every time she shows up. "you don’t even care about band stuff." “i can’t hang out with my brother now?” she huffs, plopping onto the couch like she belongs there. but the way she sits up the second you pick up your guitar? the way she suddenly has opinions on which songs you should cover? yeah. Basil’s not buying it. "jesus, if you like her so much, just say that." “i do not.” but the giddy little smile she tries (and fails) to hide when you invite her to listen to the set. tells him otherwise.

• sometimes she texts you late at night, she spends at least five minutes rereading what she wrote before pressing send. and if you take more than a minute to reply, she convinces herself that she said something dumb and deletes it. the next morning she’s met by your text “??” “nothing”

• if you ever notice something small about her—like a new bracelet or how she tied her hair differently she thinks about it for the rest of the day. “nice bracelet, soph.” your voice is so casual, like you didn’t just send her entire nervous system into overdrive. she blinks down at her wrist, lips parting slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of the little beaded bracelet she put on that morning. “oh… thanks,” she mumbles, trying to play it cool, but the second you walk away, she’s staring at it like it’s the only thing in the world. her friends don’t miss the way she keeps glancing at it, fiddling with the beads between her fingers. “you’re so obvious,” lara snickers, nudging her side. “mind your business,” sophia hisses, face burning, but even as she says it, she tugs her sleeve down over her wrist. she suddenly wants to protect it from the world.

• when you laugh at one of her jokes, even if it’s dumb, she gets this little proud smile and immediately tries to think of another one to keep you laughing. sometimes she catches herself laughing when you laugh too. it’s like muscle memory. now, whenever she gets the rare chance to make you laugh, she feels this ridiculous sense of accomplishment, like she just won something.

• sometimes, even when she’s not trying, she still finds herself smiling just because you are. like earlier today when you were joking around with her brother. she had no idea what was even said, but you were laughing, and next thing she knew, she was already smiling. she’s not even focusing, but whenever she sees you smile, she smiles too.

• “what are you smiling at?” daniela teased, catching her in the act. sophia immediately wiped the smile off her face, turning away. “nothing.” but the both of them knew it wasnt nothing.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Big Brother's Wedding Part 2 – Glen Powell

Part 1

I checked my watch before going outside. I had enough time to walk along the beach for a little while before I had to be back for the wedding. I was on my way back when I stopped. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves. 

"Your brother was looking for you."

I turned around to see Glen walking toward me. I picked up my dress and met him halfway.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine," he smiled. "He just wants. . ."

"What?" I asked when he didn't continue. I held my breath as he looked me up and down. "Is something wrong? Glen?"

"Wow," he whispered. "Y/N, you look beautiful."

My face burned when his eyes returned to mine. I reached up and subconsciously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Shannon really wanted all the bridesmaids in this color," I started to nervously ramble. "I was hesitant. I don't think I look good in this color, but you can't argue with the bride. At least the cut of the dress is flattering. And the slit's not too high."

"I think you look gorgeous."

I studied his eyes, trying to unscramble my thoughts. Glen has always been sweet to me. He's always had my back. He and Matt have always protected me. To be honest, I never thought Glen would ever look at me the way I looked at him. I always thought that he thought I was his younger sister. Never anything more. 

"Thanks," I finally said. "You look red carpet ready."

My comment made him laugh. "At least, this time, I won't be the one everyone is focused on. I'm looking forward to fading into the background."

"I don't think you could ever fade into the background," I teased. Glen laughed as he walked over and grabbed my hand. I didn't do anything as he looped my arm through his and escorted me back to the venue. 

"I'm worried," I whispered. I felt Glen look at me but I didn't return it. 

"Worried about what?" He asked gently. 

"About Matt," I said slowly, "getting married."

"He's going to be fine," Glen said, still not sure where I'm going with this.

"I adore Shannon," I tried to clarify. "But I'm worried that things are going to change once Matt's married. Change with him and me."

"Well," he said, pausing to think about his next words, "some things will change. He's getting married. But nothing is going to change with you and Matt. You two have always been extremely close. Nothing is ever going to change that, Y/N."

"I know," I sighed. "Deep down, I know that."

"All else fails," he said, trying to lighten the tension I had caused, "you got me. If your brother is caught up in married life, just give me a call. I'll come rescue you."

* * * * *

As the music played, Glen and I got ready to walk down the aisle. Every time I looked at him, my heart jumped into my throat and I couldn't form words.

"Don't let me trip," I whispered right before we started to walk down the aisle.

"Don't worry," Glen chuckled. "I won't let you fall."

Without another word, we walked down the aisle. Every second we walked, my stomach jumped all over. I couldn't settle my nerves. I felt like my legs were shaking so badly that I was seconds away from falling. I couldn't tell if Glen was making things better or worse.

Throughout the ceremony, my eyes would glance past my brother and toward Glen. Whenever they did, it seemed like Glen was already looking at me. After the ceremony, we all walked back down the aisle before heading to cocktail hour. I was talking to my family so I lost track of Glen. I didn't see him again until the reception. He was across the room, talking to their old friend group. I quickly looked away when he started to look toward me.

This went on all night. Whenever I looked for Glen, it seemed like he was already looking for me.

"Have you seen Matt?" Shannon asked, playing with her fingers. "It's time to cut the cake."

"I just saw him," I said, trying to comfort her. "He might have gone outside with some old friends. I'll go get him."

I walked outside and searched for my brother. It took a few minutes but I eventually found him and Glen standing off to the side, under a nearby beach gazebo.

"Alright," I heard my brother sigh, "I'm tired of this."

"Tired of what?" Glen asked.

"You and Y/N staring at each other, but neither one of you having the guts to tell the other how you feel. Will you just man up and tell my sister you're in love with her? I'm tired of her dating losers when my best friend would take better care of her."

"It's not that simple. I mean. . . And I'm not in love with. . . Wait, you think that Y/N has feelings for me?"

My brother just laughed. "She has had feelings for you almost as long as you've had feelings for her. So, save me the pain and just tell her."

I held my breath as I waited for Glen's response. "You sure you're okay with me asking out your baby sister?"

"I actually am," Matt chuckled. "All a big brother wants is to see his baby sister happy. And I think you could make her happy."

"I'll try," Glen mumbled to himself after my brother walked away.

When Matt turned around, he saw me and instantly smirked. He walked over and not-so-subtly pushed me toward Glen. He heard the scuffle and turned around.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled like nothing happened. "You having fun at the party?"

"I am," I said, subconsciously smoothing out my dress. Glen's eyes glanced behind me. I looked over my shoulder, holding in my laughter when I saw my brother almost trip over a chair as he ran away.

"He's not very smooth, is he?" Glen laughed as we looked back at each other.

"About as smooth as a cactus," I chuckled.

Suddenly, a thick tension fell between us. I wanted to say something, but nothing seemed good enough. 

"So," Glen started slowly as he walked over to me, "your brother seems to believe that we both have feelings for each other but neither one of us has said anything to the other."

"I guess so," I said quietly. "But to be fair, I always thought you thought I was Matt's annoying little sister."

"You have never been annoying," he said, lowering his voice as he took a few steps closer to me. "And you were so much more than Matt's little sister. I wanted you to be more."

My heart jumped into my throat when Glen grabbed my hands.

"I wanted you to be more than Matt's best friend."

Before I could think this through, Glen leaned in and pressed his lips delicately to mine. The kiss was slow and built up. As it built, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around my waist.

We broke apart, both of us out of breath. The second we leaned back, we had matching blushes on our faces.

"I know the reception is still in full swing," Glen smirked as he reached up and moved a piece of hair out of my face, "but what do you think about going for a walk along the beach?"

"I think that is the perfect first date."

[ankababy]

A Home (part 10)

Part 1 Part 9 Part 11

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Stay in, get better, get worse, go out, the cycle fucking continues.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the kitchen as you moved around, quietly humming to yourself. You felt good.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t dragging yourself out of bed, weighed down by guilt and exhaustion. You weren’t thinking about blood on your hands, about the way the man’s body had hit the floor, about the sound that still echoed in your skull if you thought too hard about it.

No.

It had passed. It was behind you now. A thing that happened, a moment you had to get through, a mistake maybe—but not one you’d ever make again. It didn’t define you.

And you were fine.

You smelled good, perfume that worked like a love spell clinging to your skin, soft and sweet. Your hair was up, all cute and what the fuck not, and the clothes you wore were comfortable, warm, making you feel safe in your own skin. Pretty.

It felt nice to feel pretty again.

You moved easily, reaching for ingredients, making something simple, something warm. Maybe they’d eat, maybe they wouldn’t. You were still making it anyway. You wanted to.

And it was funny, wasn’t it? How easily you fell back into the habit of giving to them.

Chishiya. You understood him better now—or maybe you just thought you did. Either way, you accepted it. He didn’t just keep things to himself, he hoarded them. His knowledge, his emotions, his attachment to you—because that’s what it was, even if he’d never say it.

And Niragi. Niragi.

He wanted so much, all the time. Craved everything, touch, praise, you. He wanted to drown in you, sink his fingers into your warmth and take and take, but he never wanted to admit it. No, that would make him weak. That would mean he needed something outside of himself. And Niragi didn’t need—he won. He claimed.

You let both of them.

That’s what this was, wasn’t it? You believed them now. That you were fine. That this was fine. That they were fine.

Maybe they were cruel, maybe they were manipulative, maybe they were monsters—but they kept you. Protected you. Gave you something no one else could in this world.

And you didn’t have it in you to resist.

So, you just kept moving, pouring tea, all that.

And you didn’t realize just how lost you were until you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind you—and the warmth that bloomed in your chest was instant.

Chishiya was never loud.

You glanced over your shoulder as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, gaze sweeping over you. The way you moved, the way your hair fell, the way your perfume lingered in the air between you.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched.

“Good morning.” you greeted softly, finishing what you were doing before turning to face him fully. “Did you sleep?”

His brow lifted just slightly, like the question was funny. “Would it make a difference?”

Your lips pressed together, and you sighed. “It would if you actually did it.”

“I function fine without it.”

“That’s not the point.”

Chishiya just tilted his head slightly, like the conversation was already boring him. But you weren’t deterred. You knew him better now. Knew that just because he acted indifferent didn’t mean he was.

“…Want some?” you finally asked, gesturing vaguely to what you’d been making.

He didn’t answer right away, gaze flicking to the food, then back to you. Considering. Like he was deciding whether he wanted to accept something from you or not.

“Sure.”

You smiled at that. Just a little. Just enough.

And then—of course—Niragi.

Heavy footsteps down the hall, groggy grumbling, and then he was there, slumping into the doorway, rubbing a hand over his face.

“You’re loud as fuck.” he complained, voice rough with sleep.

You blinked at him. “I was barely talking.”

He squinted at you, then at Chishiya. “Yeah, well, my ears are too fucking good.”

Chishiya just snorted as he reached for the mug you’d set down for him. “Maybe shooting guns all the time should’ve made you deaf.” he mused, taking a sip. “Shame it didn’t.”

Niragi flipped him off, still half-asleep, then turned his attention fully to you.

And just like that, his annoyance faded. Just like that, he switched gears, all smooth and lazy as he pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer, gaze flicking over you, taking in how pretty you looked, how soft you seemed.

“…You smell good, beautiful.”

“Thank you.” you said, voice light, casual, like it wasn’t a thing at all. You didn’t look away, didn’t shy away, just smiled a little, eyes warm, soft.

His lips quirked into something smug, something self-satisfied, because of course you thanked him, of course you looked at him with those big, pretty eyes and that easy little smile.

He had you.

And Chishiya knew it, too.

From where he leaned against the counter, still sipping from his mug, still watching. Observing. Taking in the subtle shifts, the way you held yourself, the way you carried yourself now.

You were glowing.

Not just from the morning light filtering through the window, not just from the warmth of the kitchen—but from yourself.

From the way you felt in your own skin, from the way you moved now.

Sexy wasn’t just about looks, wasn’t just about the way you dressed or did your hair or wore your perfume. Sexy was mindset. It was energy.

You knew how good you looked, knew how sweet you smelled, knew how you had both of them wrapped around your pretty little finger without even trying.

It was in the way you carried yourself, in the way you let them look at you.

And that was something Chishiya noticed. Because it wasn’t just that you looked good—it was that you knew you did.

“Something’s different about you today.” Niragi mused, eyes sharp, raking over you like he could pick you apart and figure out exactly what had changed.

You just tilted your head slightly, all teasing, playful. “Is it?”

Chishiya snorted softly at that, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Because, oh yeah. Something was definitely different.

And they both knew exactly what it was.

It wasn’t just that you were feeling better.

It was that you were feeling closer to them.

More attached.

And wasn’t that exactly what they wanted?

What they had worked for?

Niragi leaned in a little closer, hands slipping into his pockets, voice dropping just slightly. “You got a little confidence back, huh, baby?”

You just smiled, small, warm, completely unaffected. “Maybe.”

And fuck, that was good.

That was so good.

Because that meant it was working. What they had done to you, what they had given you—it worked.

They were there when you needed them. When you were at your lowest, when you were breaking, they were there.

And now that you were putting yourself back together?

You were putting them in the pieces, too.

It wasn’t even something you realized. Wasn’t something you thought about. It just happened. They were there, and now you wanted them to be there.

And they wanted to be there, too.

Niragi stretched, arms above his head, rolling his shoulders back. He gave you one last once-over before turning away, casual.

“Wake me up when it’s done.” he muttered, already walking off, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants, heading back toward his room without a care in the world.

Like he hadn’t just been sizing you up, drinking you in, taking note of the way you stood, the way you spoke, the way you felt now.

And then it was just you and Chishiya. The kitchen felt quieter now. Not tense, not uncomfortable, just… different. He hadn’t moved much, still leaning against the counter, mug loose in his fingers. But his eyes hadn’t left you.

And they weren’t leaving now.

You glanced at him briefly before turning back to what you were doing, flipping something in the pan, focused. But you felt him watching you.

“Are you going to ask, or just stare at me all morning?” you asked lightly, not looking up.

There was a small pause, just a second or two of silence.

“What was that banging on your door in the middle of the night?”

“It was Niragi.”

“Coming to scream at you some more?” he asked dryly, tilting his head slightly, like he was already predicting the answer.

You smiled, shaking your head, flipping something else on the stove, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“No.” you said, still soft, light. “He apologized.”

“And you forgave him.” It wasn’t a question.

You shrugged a little, stirring something, keeping your hands busy.

“I mean… yeah.” you said, as if it was obvious, as if it wasn’t even something to question.

Chishiya hummed, and you knew he was thinking. Picking this apart.

Because you had forgiven Niragi. Without even really thinking about it.

Because he had come back.

Because he had come crawling.

Because he had stood there at your door, talking, apologizing, actually trying, in his own messy, chaotic, Niragi way.

You had been spoiled. Had been taken care of all your life. Had been surrounded by love. But even in a perfect world, even with perfect parents, perfect family—people still messed up.

But love meant forgiveness.

Love meant coming back.

And Niragi had.

So you forgave him. Without a second thought.

Chishiya knew that about you now. Knew you were easy to forgive, easy to accept, easy to let things go as long as someone wanted to be better.

And Niragi had figured it out, too.

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you still gave it.

“You’re too nice to him.”

And you just smiled softly, shaking your head a little. “You’ll always say that.” you murmured.

And Chishiya didn’t argue. Because you weren’t wrong. Because it will be always the truth. But he also knew you weren’t going to change.

And that? That was exactly why you were perfect for this.

~

Now you were two seconds away from tearing the entire fucking place apart.

It wasn’t even about one thing. It was everything. The way the furniture wasn’t where you wanted it to be. The way the fucking blanket on the couch wouldn’t fold right. The way your favorite book had been moved—not lost, just not where you had put it. The way the light in the living room was too bright, too yellow, not as dim as it’s supposed to be. The way you were too short to reach the shelf where Niragi had put something, even when you stretched up on your toes, even when you jumped.

It was stupid. It was ridiculous.

But you were furious.

And then, of course, Niragi had to come out, because god forbid you make too much noise without him getting involved.

“You good over there, baby?”

You huffed, still stretching, fingertips barely grazing the edge of what you wanted to grab. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

Which was unfair. But everything was setting you off.

Niragi, naturally, noticed.

And loved it.

Because you never snapped at him. Because even when you were upset, even when you were mad, you were still sweet, still soft, still you. But this? This was new.

He let out a low chuckle, pushing off the doorframe, walking over.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” he teased, reaching up easily—so easily—grabbing what you were struggling to get, dangling it just above your head, just out of reach.

You glared at him. “Give it.”

He grinned. “What, this?” He held it higher. “This thing you’ve been jumping around like a fucking squirrel for?”

Your jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at your sides, because he wasn’t taking you seriously.

At all.

And that only made you more pissed off.

“Yes.” you bit out. “Give it to me.”

Niragi’s smirk widened, because, fuck, this was fun. He was used to you looking at him with warmth, with patience, even when he was being an ass.

He was not used to you looking at him like you wanted to rip him apart.

And he liked it.

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Say please.”

That almost made you throw something at his fucking face.

“Niragi—”

But before you could lunge at him—and you were about to lunge at him—Chishiya’s voice cut through the room.

“I’d give it to her before she actually kills you.”

Both you and Niragi turned.

There he was, standing in the entrance of the hallway, arms crossed, looking between the two of you like this was nothing but mildly entertaining.

Niragi clicked his tongue, but relented, finally dropping the item into your waiting hands.

“There.” he said, grinning as he watched you snatch it away, clutching it tightly like a prize. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You glared at him again, but you didn’t say anything, just turned on your heel and went back to what you were doing, your mood still terrible, still storming.

Chishiya watched as Niragi plopped down onto the couch, stretching out, entirely too pleased with himself. Then he looked back at you, gaze scanning over your tense shoulders, the tightness in your jaw. With a small sigh, he walked over and sat down, too.

You were going to explode.

You were already this close to losing it, already wound so tight you could snap at anything, and these two? These two assholes? They were having the time of their fucking lives.

“What is your problem?” you snapped, turning around so fast your hair whipped over your shoulder, eyes flashing, arms crossed so tightly over your chest it was a miracle you could still breathe.

Niragi was sprawled on the couch like he had nothing better to do, stretching his arms out over the backrest, one knee propped up, watching you with that fucking grin. Chishiya, on the other hand, was sitting more properly, at least him.

But it was worse. Because Niragi liked pissing you off. Chishiya was just observing. Like this was a science experiment, and you were some wild animal on the verge of a meltdown.

And neither of them cared.

“I don’t have a problem.” Niragi drawled, tilting his head. “You’re the one stomping around the house like a pissed-off little gremlin.”

You inhaled sharply.

That was not what you wanted to hear.

“I’m not stomping.” you snapped.

“You are.” Chishiya said, finally speaking up, voice flat, unaffected. “You have been for the past ten minutes.”

Your eye twitched.

“You guys are so fucking—” You cut yourself off, exhaling, trying to calm yourself down, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Oh my god.”

You could feel Niragi’s grin widen.

“What’s the deal, huh?” he asked, stretching his legs out, watching you struggle like this was the best show he had seen all week. “You on your period or something?”

You grabbed the nearest thing—a cushion—and threw it at his face.

Hard.

Really hard.

Hard enough that it actually hit him, smacking against his cheek before falling onto his lap.

For a second, there was silence.

Then Niragi burst into laughter.

Chishiya just sighed, rubbing his temple, like this was too exhausting for him to be a part of.

And you? You just stood there, fuming. “You are just insufferable—”

“See?” Niragi cut in, grinning. “That’s exactly what someone on their period would say.”

You let out an actual growl of frustration.

You wanted to hit him again. You needed to hit him again. But he was too fast. He jumped up from the couch before you could grab anything else, laughing, dodging around the coffee table, stepping just out of your reach as you swung at him.

You lunged—he stepped back.

You grabbed another cushion—he ducked.

“Stay still, you little shit!”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” He was still laughing. “You’re so mad. Look at you—puffing your cheeks like a little chihuahua—”

“I hate you—”

“No, you don’t.”

And that? That was the worst part. Because you didn’t. Because no matter how much you wanted to be angry, to stay mad, to keep up this storm of irritation brewing inside of you—they were hilarious.

And they knew it.

Because Niragi wasn’t even running from you anymore. He was just circling the coffee table, grinning, arms up in a mock surrender, staying just far enough away so you couldn’t reach him.

Chishiya was just watching.

You huffed.

This was stupid. This was so stupid. You should have ignored them. You should have kept moving your stuff around, kept sulking, kept doing whatever you wanted to do without their dumbass interference—

But you were already smiling.

Just a little.

That was exactly what they wanted.

“I’m going out.” you announced, pushing away from the table, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes. “Leave me alone.”

You barely made it a step toward the door before Niragi let out a gasp. “What?” He pressed a hand to his chest like you’d just shot him. “You’re leaving? Just like that? Not even a goodbye kiss?”

You turned so fast.

“Are you—” You inhaled sharply, pressing your fingers to your temple. “You are so fucking annoying—”

“You love it.” he shot back immediately, rocking back on his heels like he was thriving off your frustration.

You threw up your hands. “Oh my god, you can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”

His grin widened.

“You always have to be talking.” you continued, pointing at him, taking a step back. “And you can’t even keep your tongue in your mouth for five seconds.”

He flicked it out immediately, proving your point.

You groaned.

“See?” You gestured at him wildly. “That’s what I’m talking about! You’re so predictable! I knew you were going to do that.”

“Yeah?” Niragi cocked his head. “And you? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You do this thing.” he started, grinning now, motioning in your direction.

You squinted. “What thing?”

“This thing.” he repeated, stepping forward, moving his hands like he was trying to physically shape the idea. “When you’re mad, you get all—huffy. Like, so huffy.”

“I do not—”

“And your nose scrunches up.” he continued, completely ignoring you, watching your face. “And you make this little noise—”

“I do not—”

“You just did it.” he grinned.

“I—” You paused, blinking. Did you?

No. No, you weren’t going to let him get in your head.

“You’re insufferable.” you muttered, stepping back, reaching for the doorknob.

“I know.” he practically purred, looking so pleased with himself.

You groaned again, swinging the door open. “Asshole.”

“Bitch.” he called after you, voice teasing, following you to the doorway like he was going to make sure you left.

You took one more deep breath, then stepped outside, slamming the door behind you before he could throw another comment at you.

Silence.

For maybe two seconds.

“Come back soon, sweetheart!”

You actually laughed as you walked away.

Fucking Niragi.

~

The house was quiet when you returned. Unusually quiet.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the silence, shifting the weight of the bag in your hands. No sign of them. Your eyes trailed across the living room, locking onto the objects you had thrown earlier. They were… back in place.

Your brows furrowed slightly. You hadn’t expected them to clean up after you. If anything, you had expected Niragi to leave them scattered just to piss you off more.

Huh.

Pushing the thought aside, you moved toward the kitchen, rolling your shoulders. You had filled your time outside productively, collecting what you could. Now, your hands were full, the bags stretching between your fingers as you set them onto the counter. You moved around, unpacking, putting things away.

You didn’t even realize how much you’d adjusted until this moment—until you caught yourself thinking about them.

Chishiya would notice it immediately. He was always quietly aware of these things. Niragi would take advantage of it, pretending like it had nothing to do with you, but he’d still grab something first thing in the morning like it was just conveniently there.

You sighed, closing the last cabinet. Your feet led you before your mind even fully decided, taking you down the hall, stopping at Chishiya’s door.

You knocked—lightly, politely. When no answer, you pushed the door open gently, peeking inside.

Chishiya was in his usual spot, sitting, leaning slightly back like he had been there for hours. He didn’t look surprised to see you. He rarely ever did. His gaze flickered to you, then back to whatever he had been thinking about before.

You stepped inside hesitantly, lingering by the door. “Do you want something?”

Chishiya’s eyes slid back to you, observing, assessing. And then, after a brief moment—“No.”

You nodded, not at all put off by the blunt response. “Okay.”

You lingered for a second longer before stepping back, moving to leave.

But before you could fully turn away—

“You stocked the kitchen.”

A statement, not a question.

You glanced at him, nodding. “Yeah.” You pulled Chishiya’s door shut gently behind you, letting the quiet click settle in the hallway.

Then, without much thought, you turned and made your way to Niragi’s room.

You knocked.

Silence.

Again.

Nothing.

You tested the doorknob, turning it, letting the door creak open just a bit. The room was dark. Empty. No sign of him.

But what caught your eye wasn’t that.

It was the mess.

More specifically—your mess.

Your shirt—your shirt—draped over the edge of his bed like it had been carelessly thrown there. A pair of leggings pooled near the floor by his dresser. A hoodie—yours—half-folded, half-crumpled by his chair.

Your stomach twisted in a way you couldn’t quite place.

His bathroom door was open, the light off, but even from here, you could see something of yours in there, too. A hair tie on the sink. A towel you’d used before, hung over the shower like it belonged there.

Like you belonged there.

You swallowed, stepping back.

Not home.

Okay.

You didn’t think too hard about it. Not now. Instead, you walked back to your room, closing the door behind you. The air in here felt different. Yours. Safe.

A shower. That’s what you needed.

You peeled off your clothes slowly, tossing them into the hamper. The moment you stepped under the water, the heat soothed your muscles, melting into your skin.

Your mind should’ve been blank. But instead, it drifted.

Niragi, your clothes. Not even wearing them, just… having them. Chishiya, watching you, just the thought itself.

You’d been thinking about them too much. Maybe this was just normal now. The thought didn’t scare you as much as it should.

The guy. The one you killed.

Oh, him.

Yeah, that was a fun thought.

Your stomach twisted in that sick, awful way, and suddenly the water didn’t feel so nice anymore.

God. Why did you do that? Like, actually, why? Okay, sure. You knew why. But—

Ugh.

Your fingers pressed against your temples, dragging down your face. You killed someone. Like, actually ended a whole-ass life. Snuffed him out like a candle.

And what made it worse? You couldn’t even remember his face properly.

Was that bad? That was bad, right?

You had one job. One job. If you were going to be traumatized about this, you could at least remember the guy.

But no.

Great.

All you got was flashes. A body. A noise. Blood. The blood part? Vivid. Oh, yeah, no problem remembering that part.

God, why was your brain like this?

You let your head thud against the shower wall.

You were fine. You were fine.

It happened. It passed.

Right?

…Right?

The worst part? The part that made your stomach lurch in this guilty, sick, wrong way? It wasn’t even that you killed him. It was that, when you really thought about it—when you really let your mind wander—you weren’t sure if you’d even care if you remembered his face.

Fuck.

You needed to get out of this shower.

But the heat was too nice, seeping into your skin, melting into your muscles, keeping you there, as if it could wash away the thoughts clawing at the back of your skull.

Except, it didn’t.

Your thoughts were stubborn little things, and they stuck to you like wet clothes, clinging even as you tried to shake them off.

First, there was him. The dead guy. The one you killed. But then, as if your mind needed a break from that particularly awful line of thinking, it veered sharply into another direction—

Your clothes.

In Niragi’s room.

Oh.

Oh.

That was. Interesting.

Because, sure, you’d known for a while that he wore your things sometimes—your oversized sweaters, things that smelled like you—and yeah, it was weird, but it was Niragi.

Weird was kind of his whole thing.

But leggings?

Leggings?

What the fuck did he need leggings for?

Your stomach twisted in this awful, humiliating, almost thrilling way. You had thoughts. And they were bad. Very, very bad.

Y/N, stop.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against the tile.

This was so not the time to be thinking about Niragi jerking off.

Like, literally, at all. But the thought wouldn’t leave you alone. It just sat there, smug and taunting, until your brain did the worst thing it could possibly do—

You could see it. Could see him, sprawled out in that stupidly comfortable chair in his room, your leggings clutched in his fists, his head tipped back, mouth slack, breathing ragged—

STOP.

You actually let out a strangled noise, face burning hotter than the water, and you hated it.

Hated that you were thinking about this. Hated that you could picture it so well. Hated that, deep down, buried under layers of shame, under all the embarrassment and why are you like this—you didn’t even mind it. And wasn’t that just the worst fucking part?

You were done. Done with this shower, done with your thoughts, done with everything.

You sighed, eyes fluttering open, staring at nothing in particular before finally—finally—shutting the water off. The loss of warmth made you shiver, goosebumps prickling across your arms as you reached for a towel.

Okay. Okay.

You were fine.

Ignoring your reflection—because not dealing with that right now—you padded across the bathroom, wrapped up all nice in your towel, steam rolling past your ankles as you stepped into your room.

The air was cool against your damp skin, sending another shiver up your spine as you rubbed the towel over your arms.

Your bed looked so inviting. Fluffy blankets, pillows stacked just how you liked them.

You needed to get dressed first. So, reluctantly, you made your way to your dresser. You slipped the clothes on slowly, still warm from the shower, still thinking too much.

You hated when your brain did this. When it latched onto something and wouldn’t let go. You weren’t even thinking about him anymore. Not really. You were just thinking. About everything. And it was exhausting. So, you did the only thing you could do.

You threw yourself into bed.

Face first.

Let out a breath.

Tried to clear your mind.

…Hm.

Okay.

~

Knock, knock, knock.

You groaned into your pillow, eyes squeezing shut again.

Who the fuck—

The door.

It was your door.

Your brain was still in that half-asleep, half-awake place, limbs heavy, body sluggish as you barely lifted your head.

Another knock. A little firmer this time.

“Hey.” Niragi’s voice was muffled through the door. “Get up.”

You sighed, rolling onto your side, still unwilling to fully open your eyes.

No.

You weren’t ready for him.

Another knock. “Y/N.”

Fine. Fine.

You sat up with another sigh, stretching as you dragged yourself to the door, switching the light switch on as you did.

The second you pulled it open, you blinked.

Because Niragi was standing there.

Holding flowers.

Some wildflowers, a few random ones that looked like he had just grabbed whatever he thought looked nice, some with dirt still clinging to the roots, all bunched together in his fist, a little crumpled, a little messy—

Your sleepy brain short-circuited for a second.

And Niragi, standing there, stared at you expectantly. Like he wasn’t holding fucking flowers at your doorstep.

You stared at them.

Then at him.

Then at them again.

And when you didn’t say anything, Niragi rolled his eyes, shoving them forward.

“Take ‘em.”

You blinked again, slowly lifting your hands to take them from him. They were warm. Had he been holding them this whole time?

Still staring, still processing, you glanced back up at him. “…You picked these?”

Niragi scoffed. “Yeah, no shit. You like flowers, don’t you?”

You did.

“But why?”

He rolled his eyes again. “Because.”

“…Because what?”

“Because—” He scowled, looking away for half a second, before sighing. “Because you were pissy earlier, and I don’t wanna hear you bitch about it all day, alright?”

You blinked again. Then—against your will—your lips twitched. Because that was so Niragi. Even when he was being nice, he had to be an asshole about it. Still, your fingers curled around the stems, brushing over the petals as you finally let yourself smile.

“…Thank you.”

Niragi just tched, looking anywhere but at you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t go all emotional on me about it, yeah?”

A little beaten up, a little wild, but—they were yours.

And Niragi picked them for you.

…Huh.

He was still standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flicking anywhere but at you. A little tense, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself now. Like he had just realized what he’d done—bringing you flowers like some lovesick idiot—and now he didn’t know how to play it off.

And you—you—with your little crumpled bouquet in your hands, with your sleepy voice and warm skin and that soft, soft smile—you just tilted your head at him.

Then, without a word, you lifted up on your tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Niragi fucking froze.

It was instant—his entire body going stiff, his breath catching in his throat, his fingers curling into fists in his pockets, like he physically stopped functioning for a moment.

And you? Completely unaware. Because you were already stepping back, already smiling at him, already clutching the flowers like some sweet little angel as you murmured “Good night, Niragi.”

Click.

The door shut.

Just like that.

Like you didn’t just press your soft little lips against his fucking cheek like it was nothing.

Niragi was still standing there. Blinking. Processing. Hand twitching at his side, itching to reach up, to touch where you’d—he exhaled, jaw clenching, rolling his shoulders back before turning around.

Fine.

Fine.

He could deal with this later. For now, he needed a fucking cigarette.

(If evil why so bbg!!)

~

The next day, you moved around the apartment like a little bird, flitting from one thing to another, chattering sweetly as you went.

“You both leave your mugs everywhere.” you sighed, picking up a half-empty cup from the coffee table. “One of these days, I’m gonna stop cleaning up after you. You’ll just wake up surrounded by your own mess.”

Chishiya just hummed in response from his place on the couch, watching you with that cat-like expression.

Niragi stretched out, lazy and unbothered, arms draped over the back of the couch as he snorted. “Yeah, right. You like cleaning up after us.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “I don’t.”

“You do.” he insisted, smirking. “You like taking care of people. You’re like a little housewife.”

You scoffed, but your cheeks warmed. “I’m not—”

“Where’s my breakfast, then?” Niragi teased, tilting his head. “What kind of housewife doesn’t have breakfast ready for her man?”

You threw the dish towel you were holding straight at his face.

Chishiya let out a soft little huff.

And you—god, you were just radiant. There was something so sweet about you like this. Still soft, still warm, still delicate—but now bright, now talkative, now glowing.

And they noticed. They definitely noticed. Because this—this—was exactly what they wanted.

This was why they did what they did.

They broke you, and now, look at you. Smiling. Happy. Clinging to them like they were your fucking saviors.

Chishiya, watching you with his knowing eyes, tilted his head slightly.

Perfect.

You had no idea.

No idea how narcissistic he truly was. How he liked being needed. How he liked being the one you turned to. How he liked knowing that he had successfully rewired you, whether you realized it or not.

Because now, you weren’t just surviving. Now, you were surviving with them. You weren’t pulling away anymore. You weren’t shutting down, weren’t drowning in guilt, weren’t resisting their hold.

You were falling.

Falling right into their arms.

And they were so fucking selfish, both of them. Because they were keeping you there. Because they wanted you there. Because they needed you there.

Niragi, sprawled across the couch, let his dark eyes flick over you as he watched you move.

Like this, you were even prettier.

Like this, you weren’t just their little doll—you were their sunshine.

“You’re getting cocky.” you said, flicking a glance at Niragi as you continued tidying up.

“Getting cocky?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, I was born this way.”

You snorted. “Born an asshole, then?”

“Born perfect.” he replied smoothly, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up slightly, flashing a sliver of his stomach. A move that was so intentional, so practiced, that it should’ve been nothing.

Just another game. Just another way to get under your skin.

Flirting was second nature to him. He knew how to use his mouth, his face, his lean body like a weapon. He didn’t have to try—it was just who he was.

It never meant anything.

But now something felt… different.

He’d sleep with you in a heartbeat, no fucking doubt about that. Hell, he’d make you cry on his cock just for fun if you let him. He was still Niragi, still a twisted fuck, still selfish to his core.

But—

Ugh.

Something about this whole thing was weird.

Because normally, he wouldn’t give a fuck what happened after.

He’d take what he wanted and move the fuck on.

But with you, the thought of after was… sticking. Like an annoying little itch in the back of his brain.

Because what if he did get you in his bed? What if he did make you fall apart under him?

Would you still look at him like this in the morning? Would you still smile at him, call him cute names, get on your little tippy toes to kiss his cheek? Would you still make him breakfast? Would you still—

He stopped himself there.

No.

That wasn’t how he thought. That wasn’t how he worked.

He wasn’t some loser fuck. He wasn’t some lover boy.

He just liked playing with his food before he ate it.

That was all.

That was all.

And yet—hr shifted slightly, eyes flicking toward Chishiya, who was still watching you with that knowing stare.

Fucker.

Chishiya had already figured out that something was off. Of course he had. Because Chishiya noticed everything. He was watching you like he was actually invested.

Which was… different.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to care. Not that he’d ever admit it, not that he’d ever let it show—but Niragi wasn’t fucking stupid.

Chishiya had his own thoughts, his own little attachment issues that he was clearly keeping quiet about.

Because as much as Niragi liked playing with his food before he ate it—Chishiya didn’t eat at all. He collected. He kept.

And you—you were starting to look an awful lot like something Chishiya wanted to keep.

Niragi pulled a cigarette from his pocket, tapping it against his wrist, when you plucked it from his fingers.

“Hey—” His head snapped to you.

You turned the cigarette in your hand, studying it like it was some kind of puzzle. Then, casually, you brought it up and snapped it in half between your fingers.“That shit’s unhealthy.”

“Are you my mother now?” he teased, watching as you tossed the broken cigarette onto the coffee table like you made the rules.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you need one?”

Chishiya huffed a quiet laugh from his place on the couch, his arms still crossed as he leaned back. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Niragi, on the other hand, tilted his head, watching you with narrowed eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, gaze dragging lazily over your face.

“Not really my kink.” he mused. “But, you know, I wouldn’t mind you bossing me around in a different setting—”

Your hand shot out, pressing over his mouth before he could finish that thought.

“Enough.”

His lips parted under your palm, his sharp teeth flashing in something that could’ve been a grin or a bite. You yanked your hand back before you could find out.

He laughed. “Pussy.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t rise to the bait, already turning your attention elsewhere. Your hand found Chishiya’s head instead, fingers slipping into his soft, ridiculously fluffy hair as you absently smoothed it down.

His eyes lifted to you, something unreadable flickering across them as he allowed the touch without protest.

“At least you don’t have disgusting habits.” you murmured, your thumb brushing against the side of his head as if to soothe him instead of yourself.

Chishiya didn’t respond, didn’t even move. But his gaze lingered on you—assessing, observing, collecting little bits of you like they were his to keep.

Because of course he did. Because of course he’d just sit there, letting you stroke his hair like some cat, letting himself pretend—

What, exactly? That he liked it? That he wanted it? That it meant something? That he was capable of feeling anything at all?

“Look at you.” Niragi said, smirking. “So motherly today.”

You flicked your gaze back to him, unimpressed.

“You wish I was your mom, don’t you?” you said dryly. “Explains why you always act out for attention.”

Niragi let out a loud, mocked gasp. “Damn, baby.” he drawled. “Are you tryna fix me now?”

You sighed dramatically. “No, Niragi. You are far beyond saving.”

“Aw.” He grinned, leaning in slightl. “Good. I’d hate to lose all this.”

You shot him a look before your fingers gave one last, gentle sweep through Chishiya’s hair, then finally withdrew your hands from it.

Chishiya let out a small exhale, but nothing changed in his expression. If anything, he looked bored.

Like you hadn’t just been stroking his hair like you cared for him. Like it hadn’t even registered.

Niragi watched the whole exchange with a look—like a fucking sassy one(for an example, the clip of him in the background when Ann is talking, first season eighth episode I think?? Not sure don’t listen to me)—before shaking his head with a scoff.

“Anyway.” he muttered, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Back to more important matters—someone owes me a cigarette.”

You didn’t even glance at him as you grabbed another cigarette from his pocket, crushed it in your palm, then dropped it onto the table with the first one.

Then, without a word, you stood and left the room.

Niragi stared.

Chishiya chuckled.

You reappeared barely a minute later, a hoodie in your hand. Without a word, you tossed it straight at Niragi, hitting him square in the face.

“The fuck?” He yanked it off his head, glaring at you.

“You can smoke,” you said sweetly. “outside.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Not kicking you out.” you corrected, tilting your head. “Just strongly encouraging fresh air. You know, for your lungs.”

Niragi scoffed, tossing the hoodie over one shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

You smiled. “Yeah? So will I. With the windows closed.”

At that, he laughed, resting his elbow on the couch as he gave you a look.

“You do realize,” he said. “that this apartment has massive fucking windows, right?”

You waved a hand. “That’s not the same.”

He smirked. “It’s exactly the same.”

“Niragi.” you said patiently. “Go outside.”

He sighed, dramatically standing up, pulling on the hoodie. “Man, you’re no fun.”

You smiled sweetly. “I just love you too much to let you ruin your pretty lungs.”

He only chuckled, heading for the door, but not before turning back and sticking his pierced tongue out at you before he left.

Then you turned, only to find Chishiya watching you.

“What?”

Chishiya’s lips curled at the corners, just slightly. “Nothing.” he said. And yet, he kept looking.

You hummed as you continued to move around the apartment, picking things up and setting them back down in different places, even if they didn’t necessarily need to be moved. It was just something to do, something to keep your hands busy.

“You like taking care of him.” he said casually.

You blinked, glancing over. “Who?”

Chishiya just looked at you.

You exhaled a small laugh. “Oh. Niragi.”

He tilted his head, noncommittal.

You smiled faintly, fixing a little decorative bowl on the table. “Well… someone has to.”

Chishiya huffed a soft breath through his nose, like he found that funny. “Not really.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What?”

“You don’t have to take care of him.” he said simply. “He’s survived just fine without you.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, shrugging lightly. “now he has me.”

Chishiya’s lips curled at the corners, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “And what does he do for you?”

Your brows pulled together slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chishiya said, leaning back against the couch. “you’re always so good to him. You check on him, make him food, worry about him. But what does he do for you?”

You opened your mouth. Then hesitated.

“I mean, he’s—” You faltered. “He’s nice to me.”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t change.

“Sometimes.” you added quietly.

He tilted his head. “So you like him because he’s sometimes nice?”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “That’s not—”

Chishiya hummed. “You have low standards.”

You gasped a laugh, staring at him. “Excuse me?”

He just shrugged, like it was fact.

“Chishiya,” you said, exasperated. “he’s my friend.”

“Sure.” Chishiya murmured. “If you can call that a friendship.”

You sighed, dropping onto the couch beside him. “What’s your problem?”

Chishiya exhaled a small breath, tipping his head back against the cushion. “No problem.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t like him.” you pointed out.

Chishiya’s lips twitched. “That’s not a secret.”

You huffed. “You don’t have to like each other.”

“Good.” he said lightly. “Because I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chishiya shifted slightly, watching you again. “Just seems unfair.”

You frowned. “What does?”

Chishiya lifted a shoulder. “You give so much.” he murmured, gaze flickering over your face, like he was searching for something. “What does he give you?”

You hesitated.

“He apologizes.” you said finally.

Chishiya huffed a quiet breath, like that only proved his point.

“And I like talking to him.” you added, almost defensive now.

Chishiya studied you for a moment. He was an observer. He had always been. It was easy to sit back, watch people, study them, and learn how to manipulate them without ever having to lift a finger. People were simple. Predictable. They wanted comfort, validation, love—all things he had no real interest in, except when it suited him. He didn’t care to be loved, nor did he particularly need anyone, but he did enjoy being chosen.

That was why you fascinated him. You were soft, emotional, easy to read—and yet, you had a way of making people want to take care of you, even if they didn’t deserve you. It wasn’t just Niragi. Chishiya had seen it from the moment he met you. The way you tilted your head when you listened, the way you smiled when you spoke, the way you looked at someone like they were important. It was a power all on its own, one you didn’t even seem aware of.

And Niragi? Of course he latched onto you.

Chishiya had seen it coming from a mile away.

What bothered him was that you let him. That you let Niragi hover close, let him spew his manipulative little games, let him turn soft just to reel you back in. Chishiya recognized the behavior well—he did it himself. The only difference was, he wasn’t sloppy about it. Niragi was obvious. Desperate. Chishiya preferred patience.

And that was why he was winning.

Because despite everything, despite how much you liked Niragi, it was Chishiya you sat next to. It was Chishiya you told things to, the one you confided in.

The one you came to.

He knew how to make people rely on him.

It was easy.

And he was so fucking good at it.

“Good thing I’m a better conversationalist.” he murmured.

You narrowed your eyes at him, playful. “That’s debatable.”

He huffed a quiet chuckle, amused. “Is it?”

You sighed sharply, shaking your head, but you were smiling.

He noticed the way you did that now. Smiled more. Looked happier. The cracks were still there, deep beneath the surface, but you weren’t breaking anymore.

He and Niragi had made sure of that.

And now, they got to keep you.

You heard Niragi before you saw him—his footsteps were always loud, like he wanted people to know he was there. It was the exact opposite of Chishiya, who moved like a shadow. Niragi, though, was presence.

“Miss me?” he drawled, stepping back into the apartment.

You looked up from where you were sitting on the couch next to Chishiya, watching as Niragi shook off the hoodie you gave him. His hair was a little damp at the ends, strands sticking to his forehead from the humidity outside.

“Not really.” you hummed, tilting your head with a teasing smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Liar.”

You shrugged, standing up and stepping closer, glancing at the cigarette still tucked between his fingers. “Did you at least enjoy your little smoke break?”

“Not really.” he mimicked you, grinning.

You reached out without thinking, plucking the cigarette from his hand and snuffing it out in the nearby ashtray—what you only had for decoration until now. “Then I guess we both missed out on something.”

He watched you, the piercing on his tongue swiping across his lip. “Yeah? And what did you miss out on?”

You ignored him, just rolled your eyes at him before heading toward the kitchen.

“Want anything?” you asked over your shoulder.

Niragi let his gaze linger on you for a moment before shaking his head. “Later.”

You nodded and moved to grab a glass of water for yourself, ignoring the feeling of Chishiya’s gaze burning into the back of your head. He had been watching—he always watched, but something about the way he was looking now felt different.

When you turned around, Niragi was already making his way toward his room.

And then, it was just you and Chishiya again.

You sighed, flopping back onto the couch beside him, sipping your water. He didn’t say anything right away, just observed you, as he always did.

“You’re easy to please.” he said.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He gestured lazily toward the hallway where Niragi had disappeared. “He walks in with a few flowers and suddenly, all is forgiven.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “I don’t think I was mad at him.”

“That’s not the point.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then what is?”

He gave you a slow, knowing smile. “You.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but of course—he didn’t. That was just how Chishiya worked. He never explained anything, he just said things that made you think, things that lingered in your head long after the conversation was over.

And this time, you weren’t sure you wanted to think about it. So, instead, you just huffed, looking away. “You don’t bring me flowers.”

“You don’t need them from me.”

And for some reason, that made your stomach flip. Chishiya always said things like that—things that meant nothing and everything at the same time. And maybe, deep down, you knew what he was doing. The way he talked, the way he looked at you, the way he made sure you knew he was different from Niragi.

It was all intentional.

Because at the end of the day, Chishiya didn’t fight for things—he just made sure they came to him.

And you were already falling right into place.

(Y’all I know there’s a lot more Niragi interactions compared to Chishiya and it’s on purpose. I’m not picking favorites, it will add up I promise. I have shit planned.)

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Good Behaviour 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: after release, you try to get on the right track but your new boss isn't much help. (ex-con reader)

Characters: Loki

Note: :)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your sweat dampens the folder in your hands. You shift in the chair and wiggle one foot, a leg hooked over the other to keep you from jittering all over. You look up and down the hall. Men in suits and women in dresses and skirts strut by now and again, silent as they're preoccupied with their business. Just as you are with the task before you.

You don't remember being this uneasy before... well... you take a breath and steady yourself. You uncross your legs and set your feet flat. You stare at the gold plaque mounted on the door. You used the cheap Polaroid phone to confirm your arrival as noted in the email. You press the cell to the folder, gripping both tightly. You've faced worse than a man in a designer tie.

The door opens and you flinch. You stand up as a man emerges. You recognise him from the website where you found the job posting. You offer your hand. He ignores it and says your name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you reply, checking the door plaque to be sure.

"Let's not waste any more time," he waves you inside.

You nod and step past him. You grit your teeth as you enter the office. It's small and the windows brighten the space from behind plain white curtains. There's not much to the small space; an empty desk, a short filing cabinet, and a chair. There's only one other door.

"In there, please," he directs with a point over your shoulder.

He shuts the door behind him with a snap. You wince again and keep going. You enter the dimly lit office. Only the vintage table lamp gives light to the space next to a fancy monitor, unlike the boxy ones you're used to.

He sidles past you as you stop short. He goes around the desk and drags his hand down his tie. He sits and gestures to the chair across from him. You admire the sleek pen in its gold holder and paper weight in layered jade.

"Um, oh," you come forward in your rubber-soled flats, "I have a copy of my resume. And cover letter."

"I've both," he assures as he wiggles his mouse beneath his long fingers. It's one of those smooth white ones where you can't even see the buttons.

You watch him as you wet your dry lips. He's a tall man, slender but not gawkily so, and his dark hair is long but well-kempt, tucked back behind his ears. His cheekbones are sharp, his nose aquiline, and his eyes are a bold green, giving colour to an otherwise pale face.

"I've got quite a bit here," he intones as you hug the fold, the phone slipping into your lap. "Hm, rather much..." his eyes scan the screen. He's not looked at you since he came out to get you but you don't even know that he did then.

"Sir," your eyes drift guiltily. You already know what's going on.

"Armed robbery," he slithers. "Five years."

You nod and swallow, "sir, I-- that was-- I'm out now."

"Hm, so you are," he lifts his chin.

"Mr. Laufeyson, I spent my time in prison learning. I took several courses in administration, including personal and corporate accounting--"

"Yes, I'm certain you are eager to see the numbers," he turns and his eyes meet yours. His accusation stings.

"I'm... not into that anymore. I made a mistake--"

"With a gun. And fellow mistake-makers," he insists.

You deflate and blink as your eyes fall to the front of his desk. You swallow. "You're right, sir. It was more than a mistake. A crime. Which I served time for. I'm so thankful no one was hurt but I am aware that it was dangerous and unfair to everyone involved."

"Well, you certainly are eloquent," he muses.

You scrunch up your mouth. If you were the girl that was sentenced in cuffs, you'd tell him to shove it up his ass. That girl is gone, that fire extinguished. The outside is so different now. It's like another prison where you can't do anything without permission.

"Thank you, I guess." You stand. "Thank you for your time."

"I didn't say we were done."

"You didn't, sir, but, respectfully, I don't have the time to waste. I have to report to my parole officer and find some more interviews." You sigh, "I need a job and if this isn't it, then I'd hate to waste both our time."

He snickers, "and when did I say you didn't get it?"

You lift your eyes, "you didn't..."

"Please, sit. I suppose you did come all the way here. You are... behaving. So, let us proceed at least with a few real questions," he sits back, and elbow on the armrest as he twiddles his fingers. "Not to twist the knife but you mentioned parole. Would that interfere with fulltime hours?"

"No, sir, I only need to submit the schedule," you say as you sit back down.

"Mm, sir. You took some etiquette class in prison?" He wonders.

"Not formally," you reply.

He snorts, "right then. I did review your credentials. You'll be providing mostly admin support, not much accountancy, you see that is my role. I am certified in the matter and my clients are rather important. I can't have a convict at the bank roll."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"Mm, well," he leans his chin in his hand and taps his fingers thoughtfully. He sits up and rolls closer to the desk. "I rather abhor these interviews. I suppose we all deserve second chances."

Your lashes flick in surprise, "are you offering my the job?"

"I am," he affirms.

You push your shoulders up and can't help but smile, "I promise, you won't regret this."

"Yes, I hope not," he drones. "Go on, I've work to do. Not least of all, drawing up your employment contract."

"Sir," you stand and juggle the folder and your phone. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. There is a probationary period. I expect you on time and professional." He sniffs, "oh, and dressed to office standards."

You look down at your borrowed clothes. The blouse is plain beige, the pants heavy wool, and the shoes a bit clunky. You thought it was okay.

"My clients expect a certain level of class."

"Yes, sir."

"I will provide an advance for this purpose. I understand you might not be in a position to afford it as yet," he looks back to his screen, "it will be in the contract."

He doesn't glance at you again. You take that as a dismissal. You thank him once more and spin on your heel.

As you get to the next office, you exhale in relief. You don't know what Dina would say if you came back with another rejection. If you don't meet parole terms, you could end up right back where you started.

💼

The email comes and dispels the last of your disbelief. It's real. You have a job. It might not be the best. The work and the pay isn't what worries you, rather your boss. He reminds you of a warden himself. You were hoping to be done with those.

Dina congratulates you but not without a stern warning. Don't mess it up. She looks over the contract with you, commenting positively on the advance. She suggests that some employers are sympathetic to people like you.

You take the money and head out to buy work clothes. You're uncertain at first. You don't think the thrift shop or Walmart fits the bill. He sure wrote a big check. After cashing the check, you bring up google maps and wait at the bus stop.

As another person comes to the shelter, you move away from it. Now that you're out, you get claustrophobic a lot easier, yet dizzy at how open everything is. You're still getting used to this all. Especially the idea that you're only responsible for yourself.

You hop on when the bus rolls up and transfer to the next. You get off and find yourself before a boutique. A woman struts out and you shy away. You see your reflection in the window and sigh.

Mr. Laufeyson didn't hire you to look like those women. You just have to get some nice clothes. You enter and give a sheepish smile as a woman perks up behind the counter. Reticence shades her expression, then disapproval. She stomps out in her heels.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Uh, sure, yeah," you look down at your feet and back at her again. Prison was easy compared to this. You could steel yourself against the guards, even Millie when she tried to steal your brownie, but this makes you feel small. "I just got a job and I need some clothes. I could really use some help."

Honesty seems the best tactic. It was the lack of which got you into all of this. That and your own bad decisions. Your selfishness. If that gun hadn't jammed.

"Work? Well, that's nice. A new job," her eyes flutter, her voice brittle. "I suppose we have what you're looking for. What kind of work?"

"Admin," you answer and clutch the strap of your satchel. "It's uptown, so..."

"Ah, I see. Executive Assistant?"

"Not quite," you answer. "I'm not... I'm not really... into fashion."

For five years, you wore a uniform. All these wraps and frills and slits are confusing. She guides you toward the wall where a rack of blouses hangs in white to just slightly beige. You look at her, she looks good, her clothes are stylish, you'll have to trust her on this.

"So, what kind of admin?" She asks.

"Accounting," you answer.

"Mm, stuffy," she chuckles. "Well, let's see. White. Always need a white blouse. A black pair of pants, and a skirt too, then you can build from there." She pauses and glances at you, "we don't have sales in here."

You don't take it personally.

"I have money," you assure her and take out your debit card.

"Hm, well, these are very expensive pieces. You might find a department store at the mall?"

"I came all the way here," you counter, bristling. If this was inside, you wouldn't back down, so you won't now. "I need clothes, you sell clothes."

"Alright, sure, hun," she grins sardonically

"Thanks, hun," you shoot back.

She turns and selects a grey satin skirt. It's pretty enough. You cross your arms as annoyance ticks in your cheek. You try to remember the exercises they gave you in the release program. Count and breathe. It's not worth it to get mad.

"If you see anything, feel free to let me know," she trills.

"Is there anything, I don't know, some patterns?" You ask.

"Ah, I didn't see you in polka dots," she intones.

"This is nice," you touch the brown plaid blazer.

"Oh, very... chic," she comments dryly. You're not liking her attitude. Heat gathers under your collar as you trail her. "Are we trying these on?"

"You don't think I'll pop the tags off and run for it?" You snip. "I'll just pay."

"Exchange only."

"Whatever," you huff.

You go to the counter and tap your card on top. She comes up behind it and gently folds each piece. Three blouses, the blazer, two skirts, and two pants. It will do. 

"I hate to ask anything else of you but do you know where I can get a nice bag?" You take the debit machine and insert your card.

"Oh, sure, there's the shop across the street. Make sure to leave your bags at the front."

You shake your head and put away your card. You accept the two shopping bags and receipt. You thank her despite her attitude. If she only knew what that would get her inside. You almost want to give it to her.

Calm. Be calm. You're not her anymore. You're changing. Beating up a shop clerk won't help you keep this job.

You leave and cross the street. You get much the same reaction as before. You pick out a brown leather bag with a gold emblem and two pairs of heels you think you can handle. You leave, defeated but not without your prize.

You walk back to the stop and sit on the bench. You stare off into traffic as you wait. You'll have to get used to it. You sort of are. Lots of inmates stared you down and you learned not to show any fear. Not if you wanted to survive.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Gingerbrave gets adopted by the beasts because.

(somehow better parents than pv which is insane wtf?)

I- I feel like I've done something similar to this before... oh well, here you go butterfly

Adopted by the beasts

Gingerbrave, a good cookie with a good heart. And out of all the cookies to adopt him, he gets adopted by the WORST INFLUENCES known to cookiekind. And these cookies are none other than the five beasts themselves (ngl I think DE is far worse but oh well)

To be fairly honest, he wasn't technically adopted, more so kidnapped. But they weren't doing anything wrong to him or using him as a ransom, so there's a redeeming factor.

Did he like it? No, not at first. He wanted to go home and see his friends and not be in the clutches of pure evil right now. But over time he grew to accept it and despite his better judgment, he grew a liking to the Beasts.

He doesn't quite forgive Shadow Milk cookie for pushing him and his friends of the spire, so he was quite iffy around him. He also didn't make any effort to apologize, so the distrust was understandable. But the two made it work, with time.

Mystic Flour cookie, oh how she scared him. As monotone and expressionless she was, something about her just intimidated him. But he got used to her and even started looking to her for guidance. He knows Shadow Milk cookie was the fount of knowledge, but in his eyes Mystic Flour cookie was the smartest and probably most reasonable person in the group.

He never went anywhere NEAR Burning Spice cookie. And with very valid reason. The guy was aggressive and always looking for either a challenge or something to pulverize into dust. Not to mention, does he ever bath or brush his teeth??? Regardless, he learned that ignorance is indeed bliss, and ignoring Burning Spice cookie altogether was better than running away every time he was around.

Eternal Sugar cookie is just... well... she's just lazy. And being the one to love adventure, the two were complete opposites. So it's strange to see him with her the most. She cuddles him, tells him to take wayyyy too many breaks in a single hour, gives him sweets, and is altogether very affectionate to him. Such affection comes with a huge portion of jealousy when he's not with her or is with the other beasts. He's her kid, he should be with her!

Silent Salt cookie only interacts with Gingerbrave in training. Simply because Gingerbrave admired his skill and liked the idea of a (fair) challenge. Because of this, Silent Salt cookie always held back on his power so he wouldn't hurt Gingerbrave. But that didn't mean he went completely easy on him, oh no no no. He was a mixture of firm and fair, something Gingerbrave both respected and appreciated.

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ [jay, jake, ni-ki, sunghoon] your bf comforts you from 'haters'

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader + sim jaeyun x male!reader + nishimura riki x male!reader + park sunghoon x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader + jake x male reader + niki x male reader + sunghoon x male reader genre: sad angst vibes at the start but def fluff or comfort fgjkasjf notes: there's always going to be people who will hate you and your relationship. and yes, it's normal to be affected. however, it's also normal to accept some comfort by your side. everything's just better with someone you can rely on :)

Of course, you weren’t Korean. Of course, you weren’t used to their culture. But… did they really have to throw that in your face? Did they have to make you feel left out? Or was it just a game to them?

Jay could only look at your face, which seemed so troubled and gloomy. You were going through a lot of emotions right now, and he hated seeing you like this.

He held your hand tightly, warming it with his grip before speaking softly, like a gentle thread of silk. “I’ll talk to them.”

You held onto his hand, never wanting to let go. Jay wasn’t surprised, waiting patiently for you to unclasp his arm.

“Jagi…”

He knew he shouldn’t do that. It felt embarrassing. It felt stupid. It was—

“I won’t make a scene,” Jay reassured you, placing his hand on your shoulders.

You continued to grip his hand firmly. Jay sighed and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as you turned to face him.

“I’m just going to tell them how hardworking you’ve been.” He flashed his signature smirk, managing to relax your nerves for just a moment.

“And how grateful I am to see you every single day.”

You both exchanged thoughtful looks, gazing into each other’s eyes. In that moment, you felt your eyes begin to dampen. He wiped away the tears slowly falling from your cheeks. “And how I’m so in love with you that no one could possibly understand.”

Jay looked at you with such a loving gaze that you couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of life had you led before to deserve this kind of blessing?

“But Jay…”

“No buts.” Jay placed his hand gently over your glossy lips, his finger softly trailing down your bottom lip. “Just let me handle it.”

You tightened your grip on his hand one last time. You didn’t want him to get involved in something that seemed so silly, yet somehow, you felt relieved.

Relieved that someone cares for you. Someone who looks out for you.

Someone who sees your worth and values you.

Jay understood the silence that filled your head. So what’s the best thing he could do right now? A kiss. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a soft sway in the wind as he landed his lips on the top of your head.

“I’ll be right back,” Jay said with a warm smile.

You let his hands go, knowing Jay’s intentions were pure and nothing more. You smiled back, trusting your lover to defend you.

It was comforting—to be defended and cared for, just as you would do for him.

“Babe?” Jake knocks on the door, clearly waiting for you on the other side.

“This is nothing, I swear!” you call out, sniffing as you huddle in the corner of the restroom.

Yes, the place is damp, messy, and definitely not nice… but nothing could be worse than the hurtful things you’ve heard from other people.

And Jake can’t bear not knowing what happened.

“I... I’m sorry,” Jake whispers, his sadness evident in his voice. Even the tone reveals his regret.

You turn your gaze toward him. “Oh, don’t be!” you say, trying to wipe your face and smile as if everything is fine. “C’mon now.”

“But they said bad things, right?” Jake asks, trying to express his feelings. He cares deeply about what he missed. He swears that if he hadn’t taken his time at the counter, he wouldn’t have hesitated to teach those mean people a lesson.

Yet he needs to know how you feel first. When he saw you run to the restroom, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He was scared, worried, and he wasn’t going to let this slide.

He was determined to be your protector.

“It’s not that bad…” you try to defend yourself, almost reflexively.

Were they really NOT that bad? Is that how you would describe being labeled as someone your boyfriend doesn’t deserve? Not bad?

Words sting. Words hurt. Is it really not bad if they call you an opportunist just because you love your boyfriend?

“I don’t think you’d lock yourself in a public restroom if it wasn’t, babe,” Jake sighs, hoping you’ll open the door quickly.

“They…” you suddenly burst into tears, remembering every single hurtful word you’ve heard.

Why must it be you who feels this way? Why must it be you experiencing something that shouldn’t happen to anyone?

“I’m gonna bust the door open—”

“Wha—”

“HAH!!!” He successfully breaks through the distance between you and him. With a bright smile, he wants to comfort you right then and there.

“Ow…”

Wherever ‘there’ is…

“B-baby!” Jake jumps in surprise, his heart racing as he sees you on the floor, all tumbled up.

“It’s fine…” you say in a gasping tone. You don’t mind it at all, though Jake’s strength is definitely nothing to be messed with.

“Sorry! I thought you were in one of those!” Jake points at the two restroom divisions, thinking you were hiding somewhere.

“So cute…” you coo, making Jake blush a little. “You’re trying to save me like a hero?”

Jake rushes to your side and helps you get up. “Ugh, look at your clothes! It’s your favorite, right?”

“Pssh. Like it matters.” You deny it, clearly relying on this mechanism to cope.

Jake looks at you with serious eyes. “C’mon. Don’t do that now.”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt. Two times.” Jake raises his fingers. “In one day. It HAS to hurt.”

You look at him, realizing how much you’ve been denying your own feelings. Of course, you hate it. You hate feeling what you’ve felt today. Although Jake’s little push wasn’t much, that earlier situation scraped at your heart.

Just then, you notice your eyes are wet. They aren’t just damp; they’re soaking. You can only cry right then and there.

Jake sees your tears fall and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Shh…” he says softly, trying to comfort you, patting your back as you sob against him. “I’m here.”

You continue to cry, letting it all out. Maybe on this day, or in this life, you feel like you don’t matter to anyone. You’re willing to accept that.

But you matter to Jake. Just as he matters to you.

Maybe that’s all you really need.

“Something wrong?” Ni-ki asks, his voice low and filled with concern as he leans closer to you, sensing the tension rising in your body before you even fully process the words.

His gaze, sharp and hyper-observant from years of reading rooms as a performer, flickers to the source of the whispers around you and then back to your face.

At first, he thinks you’re just your usual unfazed self, but as he studies your expression, he realizes the truth—you are affected.

This awareness shifts something in him, prompting him to step closer. His shoulder brushes against yours casually, yet it feels fiercely deliberate—a shield disguised as coincidence.

“Hey,” he murmurs again, tilting his head down so only you can hear. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding, guiding you toward a quieter corner away from prying eyes and judgmental voices.

Ni-ki isn’t one for dramatic confrontations; he prioritizes your peace over their noise, ready to remove you from the chaos that surrounds you.

Once you find a moment alone, he faces you fully. His usual playful smirk is replaced by a quiet seriousness that catches you off guard.

“You know they’re wrong,” he states simply, his tone leaving no room for debate.

You recognize this side of him—the one that surfaces during tough rehearsals, when he’s pushing himself to perfect a move. He is stubborn in his convictions.

“I... I know. It’s just—” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“It’s nothing but smack.” Ni-ki tries to push away that trembling fear of yours, the snake that keeps crawling up your leg, the creeping anxiety that always seems to burn you down whenever something like this happens. He weighs his words carefully, wanting to make you feel better, or at least let you know you’re not alone in times like these.

“You’re... stronger than they think. And I know what’s real.” His thumb grazes your wrist, a fleeting touch that carries the weight of his loyalty, reminding you that you’re not alone. "I just-" A sudden kiss then touches your lips, warmth bathing your own. "Wah-" Another kiss graces you again. Ni-ki smirked as he prompted to wait another moment for you to speak. "He-" One last kiss to shut you up. That will do it, Ni-ki thought.

“Hehe.” You felt suddenly lighter than before. Maybe three kisses worked their magic already. As for Ni-ki? He looked proud as one definitely would, like winning a raffle prize. Bumping his head close to yours, he lightens the air with a half-smirk.

“Next time, I’ll ‘accidentally’ spill my drink on them. My clumsy era.”

“What the..." You looked at him, a familiar glance he knew well you'd do when he teased you.

"Riki.”

“What?” Ni-ki smiles, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Is that a game plan or what?”

You giggle, knowing how he always tries to cheer you up has been a success in the past. Even amidst the buzz of the world, just having Ni-ki right with you feels like enough. With him, you feel stronger and much better.

And Ni-ki? He loves you even more. Nothing compares to that.

The next day, he shows up at work wearing the hoodie you once teased him for borrowing, unbothered by the stares of others around you. Yes, it was pink. Yes, it was a Donald Duck comic panel hoodie and yes, it wasn't his taste at all. But with all of this, his presence is a silent rebellion against any negativity. For Ni-ki, comfort isn’t found in grand speeches; it’s in staying.

He proves, through every small choice he makes, that he will walk beside you—loudly, unapologetically—no matter who’s watching. In this moment, you feel a sense of reassurance, knowing that with Ni-ki by your side, you can face anything that comes your way.

“You good?” Sunghoon asks, noticing the bad vibe in the air before you even do. His polite smile, which he uses in public, freezes just a little as his instincts kick in to hide his irritation.

But his eyes, usually calm and peaceful, darken with a hint of protectiveness, a fierce guardian ready to shield you from the negativity surrounding you.

“Mhm.” You nod, trying to show him that it’s not a big deal, even though you know it is. You want to be strong for him, to not add to his burdens.

Without breaking his cool demeanor, he steps subtly between you and the voices, standing tall like a strong tree, unyielding against the gusts of harsh words.

“Let’s get some air,” he says lightly, as if he’s just suggesting a casual walk, but you can sense the underlying urgency in his tone.

“O-okay.” His hand gently presses against your back—a silent command to follow, not argue. You feel the warmth of his touch seep through the layers of your emotional turmoil, grounding you.

Once you both find a quiet spot, nestled away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers, he turns to you, and his icy facade melts into something softer.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low but steady. Sunghoon isn’t one for long speeches, but his gaze locks onto yours, intense and unwavering, making you feel truly seen.

“W-What are you talking about?” You smile, doing your best to deny what you’re feeling and hide it from him. You don’t want him to worry; he has enough on his plate.

As you try to shrug it off, he raises an eyebrow—that look he gives when he knows you’re lying. It’s a look that makes your heart flutter, even in such a heavy moment.

“Hoonie—”

“They’re idiots,” he says plainly, crossing his arms. “The kind who’d fall flat on their face trying a single axel jump.”

The reference catches you off guard and makes you giggle a little. “A-axel jump? That’s a throwback.”

Sunghoon takes a good look at you as you settle, fixing the hair strands that almost cover your face. He can tell you’re trying to keep it together, but he’s seen you crumble before, and it breaks his heart to witness it again.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” He hesitates for a moment, showing a rare side of himself, before saying, “It hurts me too. Seeing you like this.”

You understand what Sunghoon is trying to say. People aren’t always kind about idols dating, especially when they’re the same sex. You’ve faced your share of hate and gossip, but it’s not something serious enough to ruin his reputation. It’s something very personal for him when he knows you’re being targeted.

But to him, none of that matters. As long as he can show his love for you while doing what he loves, he feels content.

“They want a reaction. Don’t give them one,” he says, firm but not cold. “We’ll show them this instead.” He flashes his bright, dimpled smile, warm and calculated, before linking his arm through yours and leading you back into the room.

You laugh again, seeing how cute your partner is. He’s trying his own way of showing how much he cares for you, and nothing can compare to his efforts.

You lean against his shoulder and tighten your grip on his strong arm, silently thanking him for everything he does.

Of course, Sunghoon smiles. Deep down, it’s all that matters to him.

That you feel happy, comfortable, and loved. With him.

“You’re better than every single one of them.” His breath feels warm as he kisses your forehead.

“And I’m never wrong about people.”

wishing you comfort in these small drabbles. from me and enha <3

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

[eepy-cookies]

I will ask as anon for I’m to scared to ask otherwise but can we please have more art of

Characters: Shadow Milk Cookie x G/N! ReaderContent Warning: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

You made a little story of with that title and I swear you made one art of it and I really want to see more art of it like a little sorry book if that happen if that’s okay for I love the story so much how we meet shadow milk again after we waked up

I didnt made a title at that time since I just want to type a one shot. So I might as well add some explanations about this with only two arts! Oh btw, if anyone is a bit offended by this. I’m sorry. Your warned in advance about the yapping.

About his name: He can be called as either Blueberry Milk Cookie, Blue Moon Cookie, Blueberry Yogurt Cookie, and etc tho its safe to call him Sage of Truth. At that time his soul jam is similar to Pure Vanilla for a good solid reason, it was the first original soul jam but I do want to add a tiny head-canon that there should be a “closed eye” to his soul jam but the canon was just like Pure Vanilla’s. Just like what happens at the Blueberry Yogurt Academy before it was abandoned, it was ONCE his second history wanting to teach the cookies more knowledge while his first being crated. Plus meeting Y/N Cookie allowed him to experience what falling in love feels like.

About Y/N Cookie: They made their own appearance as a mortal cookie but had an incurable illness that the witches made a mistake, but what if it wasn’t and it was part of their experiment? Although it was very cruel Y/N Cookie was one of the cookies who suggested Sage of Truth to create that said academy to not find a way to get the cure but also to create memories that can last through time. But they knew their time is up and yet they wanted to live more just to see him one more time, after all they love him.

About the Incurable Illness: Its hard to find a better title for the name so lets call it “Incomplete Dough Illness” its just similar to humans who had disabilities that won’t let them survive much longer, however even tho it’s incurable it’s incurable since it was THE PAST before modern technology was introduced to the new generation of cookies, wether or not it can be cured it can never be cured despite everything.

The life longer spell: A spell casted by the Sage of Truth before he had become Shadow Milk Cookie, it extended a cookies lifespan thus converting them to become almost immortal, the word almost is that a Crescent Moon needs to be presented in order for that spell to perform well. The consequences is becoming corrupted and if that caster perishes that person perishes with them. If that person is also sealed they are comatose until the seal is broken and if that unconscious person is touched or worse that unfortunately cookie will live the most unluckiest and cursed life till they perish.

What happens to them: Shadow Milk Cookie took Y/N Cookie with him to a more safer place. Of course that would make the other cookies worry but Pure Vanilla told them that they will be find, after all Y/N Cookie is the ONLY COOKIE Shadow Milk Cookie recognize despite them being new in a newer world that cannot go back. Of course this time Shadow Milk Cookie CANNOT afford to let go of Y/N Cookie, they are immortally connected with him but they are still weak so they need good care by Shadow Milk Cookie himself (it has become a connected soulmates). If that makes you happy you can see Y/N Cookie still being sweet to him despite everything, sure it takes alot of time for them to understand but you should know that they are an understanding and wise cookie.

Bonus: Shadow Milk Cookie got a kiss in the end. A comforting one. ❤️

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Alright that’s it, need the trying to make her laugh scenario with Red Hood Rapi, I feel it’s prob a challenge but the reward at the end….

(GoV:NIKKE) Rapi's S/O trying to make her laugh

To be fair, with Red Hood Rapi your chances go significantly higher.

Ever since Rapi had fully embraced herself, she had become much more forward than before with both the Commander and S/O.

In Anis's words:

(Anis) "Careful now, S/O. She practically doesn't have any shame now, you're in danger!"

Which was a light-hearted tease that ended up ringing a little more true than intended.

But at the same time, Rapi was still Rapi, for better and worse.

Meaning that getting her to laugh was still just as hard as ever...Or was it?

Rapi adjusted the hair out of her eyes as she sat down in the lounge, about to read over a few documents before hearing S/O enter the room.

(S/O) "Rapi! There you are!"

(Rapi) "S/O? Is everything ok-?"

She turned around to face them, stopping midsentence when she saw what they were wearing.

(Rapi) "...Why in the world are you wearing a crab suit?-"

(S/O) "Neon and Anis wanted to put me in something worse! I need you to help me get this off so I can hide!"

She remained frozen in her seat for only a few seconds before immediately nodding, almost vaulting over the couch and rushing over to help.

(Rapi) "I will help you get the outfit off, but why are you even in this to begin with?"

They stuttered, unable to look her in the eye as she helped unzip the suit from the back.

(S/O) "W-Well...truth is I wanted to make you laugh, and they suggested wearing a stupid costume."

She made a hum of acknowledgement, finishing unzipping and letting them get out of the suit. They were still in their regular uniform, meaning they were probably burning up right now.

(S/O) "-I was on board until they suggested doing something more daring, like cat ears and...some other weird stuff! Some of the other Nikkes were about to join in, so I made a run for it!"

They turned around, about to continue before they saw Rapi smiling, causing their brain to short circuit.

The smile was so...genuine. Her eyes were filled with warmth, as well as the hand that cupped their cheek, making their heart skip a beat.

(Rapi) "Well, I think you can mark that objective as a success."

S/O leaned into her touch, moving closer to let her hands take them into an embrace.

(S/O) "But you're not laughing though."

Rolling her eyes at their teasing, she instead had a better idea.

She pulled away, disappointing S/O for only a second before she kissed them, their lips connected in a quiet, intimate space.

Finally, Rapi took them into another hug before helping S/O step out of the costume.

(Rapi) "Believe me, I'm entertained...And touched you'd get in such an asinine outfit for me."

(S/O) "Hah, anything for my Rapi."

She smiled at that, tempted to lean in again and-

(Neon) "S/O! WHERE ARE YOU?! YOU'RE PUTTING THIS TAIL ON!"

(Rapi) "Commander's room, now."