#like he said EVERY TIRE was low 😭

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

my manager just made one of the drivers put air in my tires for me pls 💀

[propertyofwicked]

BREATHE - LN

based on this request - (absolutely obsessed with this concept, i hope i did it justice)

sooo i caugh myself thinking about lando's huuuge neck and him probably having kind of a choking kink but on himself ykwym? like reader riding him and putting her hands on his neck without realizing and he's just enjoying it and eventually asks her to choke him a bit harder maybe... idk 😭 could you write something based on this? -anon

warnings: smut! MDNI! riding, choking, unprotected sex, not proofread so apologise for any mistakes!

SONG CHOICE: breathe by bby

masterlist

her legs were thrown either side of lando’s, straddling his waist tightly as she ground herself down his cock. his hands rested on her hips, pulling her body to move back and forth on his length. the veins running down his arms enlarged slightly as he used his strength to hold her still for a moment, forcing himself as deep as physically possible inside her.

y/n could feel every movement below her - his hips rolling up into hers, his legs spasming up slightly every time she moaned out his name, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs, nails scraping the flesh as he did.

“fuck, angel,” he grunted, “so good f’me.”

her head rolled back at his praise, choking out a moan when his hips lifted into her once again, her walls tightening around him as she did. her body fell forward at the feeling, hands moving to rest on his chest for stability. her legs had grown tired ages ago, but the feeling of lando’s cock sliding in and out of her heat as she bounced lightly consumed her every thought, she couldn’t fathom the possibility of this feeling ending.

his hand left her hip, snaking between the two of them to toy with her clit, using the slick coating his cock to allow his fingers to circle it seamlessly. her pleasure intensified, an icy tingle running through her entire body as her grip on his chest slipped. she fell into him further, her hands the only thing stopping her from folding into his chest completely when they landed on the base of his neck. she looked at the man as he lay beneath her, his lips had parted, heavy breaths filling the room, head rolled back into the pillow as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

“fuck, lan, just like that,” she said, encouraging the way his hips jutted into her at the loss of her own movement. lando’s thrusting was faster than her own bouncing, his length hitting new angles as his pushed himself up into her. the feeling had her tightening around not only his cock, but also his neck, her hands sporadically gripping either side. she noticed his breathing hastening again, his assault on her clit faltering slightly.

she tried to push herself back up again to continue grinding down on him, causing the pressure of her body weight to press into lando’s neck again. his head remained still, but the muscles in his neck flexed beneath her hands, a low grumble escaping his throat as she applied more pressure to his airway.

y/n assumed she’d hurt him, despite her hands looking so small and weak compared to his neck. lando moaned out beneath her, choking out her name as he did.

“sorry,” she panted, loosening her grip on his neck, noticing the way their sweat coated her palms slightly. he didn’t respond. instead, his head shot up to look in her eyes, his gaze intense as he shook his head.

“do it again,” lando begged, yet his tone holding a sense of something sinister. a tone that only showed when the roles were reversed. a tone he unintentionally reserved for the times one of his hands was wrapped around her neck, squeezing at her airways.

“are you sure?” she questioned, her fingers running along his jaw as she searched his face for any sign of hesitation.

“angel, please,” he continued to beg her, moving his hand from her clit to hold hers, trailing it slowly down the tanned skin of his face, settling it on his neck. her fingers spread across his throat, pushing the cold metal of his necklace away from the area, her hips pushed her lower body down his cock once more, the feeling of being stretched around him overriding any doubt swimming through her mind.

y/n’s hand tightened apprehensively around his neck once more, using her grip to stabilise the rest of her body as she ground down on him. lando mumbled something incoherent, his words merging into one as he struggled to contain himself.

“is this ok?” she asked him, her eyes softening in her concern.

“y/n, angel,” he replied reassuringly, his tone momentarily soft, “you weren’t even close to hurting me with both hands on my neck. just pl- please, choke me.”

his borderline begging spurred her on, her fingers flat on his neck, thumb on the base of his jaw as she deepened her grip. this was a new experience for the two of them, usually lando being the one to lavish in her begging, hands gripped around her throat as he fucked into her.

and yet, whilst their roles were reversed, lando kept his control over her. his hips now moving in time with hers, hands returning to their grip on her waist, pushing her body down on him. he was her only thought. the way his moaning intensified, the sound filling her brain till she was dumb. excitement filling her veins at the way he fell apart beneath her, more vocal at her every move. and despite the way their position made him look submissive, the control she had of his breathing, fingers squeezing tighter with every thrust, his fingers ran circles around her clit, pinching it lightly when she paused her bouncing - she knew who was in charge.

lando looked at the sight in front of him, at his cock, enamoured by the way y/n sunk down on him, any thoughts wiped away immediately at the sight of his length disappearing inside of her fully, and reappearing covered in her slick. he loved how wet she got for him, even after years together. no matter how many times they did this, she was always ready for him, ready to take everything he had to offer her.

his mouth opened to praise her, trailing his eyes up her body. but the words got caught in his mouth - he didn’t know if it was her tight grip around his neck, the feeling of her skin on his, or the way her breasts moved as she forced his cock into her again. his eyes never got round to meeting hers, as he felt waves of pleasure running through his entire body, his hips thrust up into her suddenly, taking her by surprise, hand falling to the side of him leaving her clit unattended. she started to whine at the loss of contact but with no warning, lando had climaxed, his cum spilling from his tip, filling his girl, leaking out of her as she took him in fully again. her movements haltered at the sudden feeling of his cum spewing into her, her grip on his neck loosened, his large hand subconsciously rocking her hips into his to ride out his own high.

lando took in a deep breathe, heat rising to his face in a mix of shock and embarrassment at how quickly he came undone with her hand around his throat.

“fuck i-” he breathed out, chest shaking as he did. his eyes finally met hers, he noted the way her pupils were blown, and the way her hair fell in front of her face, strands sticking to her cheek. she was ruined, and all because of him. he cupped her face, kissing her softly before tucking her hair behind her ear, “so good for me, love you,” he panted.

“lan, please,” she moaned out, ignoring his words, grinding her hips down on his softening cock. in his shock, he’d momentarily forgotten about her. she was so close, but her orgasm was moving further away from her grasp as time passed.

“i know, baby,” lando cooed at her, feeling somewhat guilty for her predicament, arms wrapping around her and rolling the two of them over so that she laid on her back beneath him. his necklace dangled around her lips, taunting her.

“gonna make you feel so good, yeah? such a good girl,” he mumbled in her ear, pressing a kiss to her jaw before sliding down her body, settling between her legs before pulling them over his shoulder. she was exposed to him, his eyes staring at the way his cum leaked from her. the flesh was red, overstimulated and sore from the stretch of his cock. he let out a breathe, the air blowing on her sensitivity causing her hips to shoot upwards.

“patience, angel. wanna take my time with you.”

-

requests are open!! lemme know your thoughts! <3

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…

[quins-heart16]

LANDO NORRIS x GF READER

LANDO’S SHY PRINCESS: A LOVE CAUGHT ON CAMERA

The apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the cameras as Drive to Survive rolls on, capturing every moment of Lando and Max’s conversation. They’re seated on the couch, discussing last season—its highs, its lows, and the moments that still linger in their minds.

“There were weekends where I felt like we were so close, and then something would go wrong—strategy, bad luck, whatever,” Lando says, leaning back with a sigh.

Max nods. “Yeah, but that’s just how it goes. You can do everything right, and still…”

Lando’s phone suddenly vibrates on the table. He glances down and, seeing the name on the screen, doesn’t hesitate to pick up, lifting it to his ear and shifting slightly away from the cameras. His voice drops, softer, more private.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs.

A small, almost involuntary smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah?”

Lando chuckles, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on his knee. “I like the sound of that.”

“Promise.” His voice is warm, reassuring.

“Love you too, baby.”

As soon as he hangs up, Max, who has been watching him the entire time, smirks. “Oi, who was that?”

Without missing a beat, Lando deadpans, “My mum.”

Max bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “Mate, you are so whipped.”

Lando finally grins, leaning back against the couch. “My girl.”

Max groans dramatically. “There it is! He said it!”

The Drive to Survive cameras catch everything, and Lando just chuckles to himself, knowing this moment is definitely making the final cut.

Y/N POV

Lando is currently in his game room playing with his friends online while I curl up on the couch, exhaustion settling in. But after a while, I start to miss him.

Dragging myself up, I shuffle into the game room, barefoot and wearing one of Lando’s oversized hoodies. My voice is sleepy as I pout, leaning against the doorframe.

“Landoooo…”

He glances over from his monitor, a small smirk already forming. “Yes, love?”

“Do you think fish get tired of swimming?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes.

Max, who’s still on the call, bursts into laughter. “Oh, mate, she’s gone.”

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one,” I insist, stepping closer, my tired state making me extra clingy.

Lando’s voice softens. “Come here, baby.” He pushes his chair back slightly and pats his lap. Without a second thought, I comply, half-asleep as I sink into his embrace. His arms wrap securely around me, and I nuzzle into his neck, completely unaware that he’s live.

The chat erupts instantly.

“Bro she’s literally the cutest thing ever.”

“Lando’s got a whole princess in his arms.”

“The way she just flopped into his lap 😭.”

Max and the rest of their friends are still on the stream, and Max is practically crying from laughter. “She doesn’t even know!”

I blink drowsily, confused at him chuckling at something looking at the screen then I finally notice the live chat on his screen. My eyes widen. Oh. My. God.

“LANNNDOOO!” I whine, instantly burying my face in his neck. “I wanna die. The ground needs to swallow me right now.”

Lando just laughs, holding me tighter. “Why? You’re adorable.”

“Noooooo,” I groan dramatically. “Why didn’t you tell me you were live streaming?”

Max’s laughter only makes it worse. “This is gold. Absolute gold.”

Lando tilts his head down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Relax, my shy princess.”

The chat explodes again.

The next day, the headlines are everywhere. Lando’s “Shy Princess” Steals the Spotlight on His Livestream. The clips are all over Twitter, and to make matters worse, Lando won’t stop calling me his shy princess just to see me pout.

I swear, I’m never walking into his game room again.

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[freakycore]

🎧 now playing: burning out

lighter lorenz x afab!reader ִ ࣪𖤐

in which your boyfriend, lighter, finally does something about your smoking habits. cw. suggestive content (intense makeout), smoking.

an. why is there only a small amount of zzz fics :( THIS BROTHER IS STARVING 😫😭

the sons of calydon had rolled back into new eridu after another mission, tired but buzzing with the kind of energy that only came from surviving something chaotic together. the group naturally ended up at burnice’s bar—it was tradition at this point.

lighter and you had slipped outside after a while, finding some peace on the old couch in front of the bar. the neon sign above cast a faint glow over both of you, the quiet hum of the music in the background set the perfect mood.

you leaned back, your legs tucked under you as you lit a cigarette. the first drag was always the best, and you sighed contentedly as you blew out the smoke.

lighter watched you from where he sat, legs spread wide, one arm slung lazily over the back of the couch. his sharp eyes tracked your every move, but he didn’t say anything—yet.

“you’re staring,” you teased, turning your head to look at him, a smirk playing on your lips.

“you’re smoking,” he shot back, his tone flat but his expression unreadable.

you rolled your eyes. “i thought we were past this.”

“i’m never gonna be past it,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “you know i hate that crap.”

“yeah, yeah,” you muttered, taking another puff. “don’t like the smell, don’t like the taste, blah blah blah. you sound like a broken record lighter”

before you could take another drag, his hand shot out, snatching the cigarette from your fingers. without hesitation, he flicked it to the ground, grinding it out under his boot.

“hey!” you snapped, glaring at him. “what the hell man?!”

his response was to pull a lollipop from his pocket, unwrapping it with deliberate slowness. “you want something in your mouth? here.” his tone was teasing, but his eyes burned with intensity as he leaned forward and pressed the lollipop against your lips.

you hesitated for a moment, then parted your lips, taking in the candy in. the citrusy sweetness coated your tongue, and a playful idea sparked in your mind. your lips wrapped around the lollipop and you licked it slowly, swirling your tongue around the surface with exaggerated care.

lighter’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he watched you. “you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“am i?” you teased, your voice muffled slightly by the lollipop. you pulled it out your mouth, your tongue flicking over the candy one last time, before sliding it back between your lips.

that was it.

lighter surged forward, his lips crashing against your with desperation that made your head spin. his hands cupped your face, tilting it up to deepen in the kiss, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. the lollipop clattered to the ground, forgotten, as your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer.

you responded in kind, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging, eliciting a low growl from him that sent a jolt of heat through your body. the kiss deepened, messy and desperate, your mouths moving together as though trying to claim dominance, your teeth occasionally clashing in the heat of the moment.

your back arched as he leaned forward, forcing you to shift until you were straddling him completely. his hands traveled down, squeezing your hips possessively as he pulled you against him, the friction igniting something primal.

when you broke away for air, gasping, his lips didn’t stop. he trailed them down your jaw, nipping and sucking, before returning to capture your mouth once more. it was sloppy, wet, and unrelenting, each kiss more fervent than the last, leaving you dazed and trembling.

as you tilted you head back for a moment, catching your breath, he smirked again your skin and murmured, “funny how your other lips are sweeter..”

“shut up,” you mumbled, though your lips twitched into a small grin.

your hands wandered under his shirt, fingertips skimming over three hard lines of his torso. he groaned into your mouth, his own grip tightening as though he couldn’t stand the thought of any space between you.

“lighter,” you managed to pant, but it came out more like whimper, your voice swallowed by another searing kiss.

you tried to pull back for air, but he wasn’t having it. his hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, tilting it just right as his tongue swept over you’re, claiming you all over again. the sensation was overwhelming. every nerve ending seemed to spark under his touch, and the intensity left you dizzy.

before you knew it, your back hit the sofa arm. he pinned you there, one hand braced against the sofa arm, the other still holding you close, his lips never leaving yours.

when he finally broke away, you were both panting, foreheads pressed together as you struggled to catch your breath. his eyes were dark, almost feral, and his lips were swollen and glistening- a mirror of your own.

“you,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, “are going to be the death of me”

your response was a soft laugh, though it came out shaky, hands snaking down to his pants. “and you’d like that”

before things could go any further, a sharp voice broke through the haze. “if i have to watch you two slobber all over each other for one more second, i’m gonna throw up. either get a room or cool it!”

you turned to see lucy standing with her arms crossed, her expression halfway through between exasperation and pissed.

lighter pulled back slightly, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “didn’t know we had an audience.”

you rolled your eyes, still breathless. “mood killer”

lucy tsked, “you’ll survive”

with a reluctant sigh, you slid away from lighter your heart still racing. as lucy walked off, muttering about pda and shame, lighter turned to you, his expression softening.

“you know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “you don’t need the cigarette, you’ve got other ways to unwind, better ways”

you hesitated glancing at the crushed remains of your cigarette on the ground. “I don’t know. it’s not that easy.”

“nothing worth it ever is,” he replied gently. “but i’ll help you, i’ve been in the same boat yknow”

a small smile tugged at your lips. “maybe. one step at a time.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “that’s all i’m asking.”

[ankababy]

A Home (part 17)

Part 1 Part 16 Part 18

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

TW: not even exactly the mention of 🍇, not even a literal hint, just a small part of a sentence that can be read as that. You probably won’t even notice, don’t look for it.

AN: I know that the way to the Beach is way too long and y’all want the Beach already but I promise I know what I’m doing😭 This is needed I promise.

You sighed, holding onto Chishiya’s sleeve, keeping up with their pace as the three of you walked. The butterfly was long forgotten in the distance, but the thought still lingered somewhere in the back of your mind. Maybe there’d be more where you were going. Maybe you’d see other little creatures, ones you could stop and admire for a few moments before Niragi crushed them.

You glanced up at him, watching as he twirled his gun around his fingers, his movements careless but precise. The way he handled the thing, the way he loved that damn gun—it made your stomach turn. He had proven exactly how much he enjoyed using it.

Still, it was Niragi.

That was just him.

You’d come to accept it, even if you didn’t like it.

“…Are we playing today?” you asked, voice soft but casual, as if you weren’t asking about potentially risking your life.

“Of course we are.” Niragi said, like it was obvious. Like it was just another part of the day.

You let out a breath, nodding. “Okay.” you murmured, more to yourself than anything.

Niragi suddenly pushed your head away with his hand, palm against your forehead, laughing.

You stumbled slightly but didn’t fight it, letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll.

“You’re so fucking weird.” he teased.

You pouted, rubbing your forehead.

“I wasn’t even doing anything.” you grumbled, frowning at him.

“Exactly.” he said, tapping your nose with his finger. “That’s what makes it fun.”

You sighed.

Of course Niragi found you entertaining just by existing. It was ridiculous. But you didn’t fight it. Didn’t snap at him, didn’t tell him to leave you alone.

Because, truthfully…you were used to it.

You didn’t actually mind it.

Not when he was like this.

Not when he was touching you without hurting you.

You could handle Niragi when he was annoying.

It was better than when he was violent.

Chishiya exhaled sharply beside you, clearly unamused, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for a second longer than usual before he looked ahead again.

You didn’t ask what he was thinking.

You probably didn’t want to know.

“Come on.” Niragi said, throwing an arm over your shoulders again and tugging you along, as if you weren’t already walking.

And you just… let him.

You always would.

~

Your feet ached. Every step sent a dull pulse of pain through your legs, and the sun, hanging low in the sky, cast long shadows across the empty streets. You had been walking the whole day, without stopping, without food, without water, and it was finally getting to you.

You never complained.

Not really.

But right now?

You let out a soft, pathetic whine, dragging your feet as you trailed behind them. “I’m hungry…”

Nothing.

They heard you. You knew they did.

You could see Niragi’s shoulders tense slightly ahead of you, could see the way Chishiya’s head tilted just a fraction, but neither of the responded.

“I’m thirsty.” you tried again, slower this time, like they needed to understand the severity of the situation.

Still nothing.

You huffed, rubbing at your face. “…I’m tired.”

Niragi finally turned. And he looked at you like you were the most annoying thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “You’re always tired.”

Your pout deepened. “Because I never get to rest!” you whined, arms swinging at your sides. “We’ve been walking all day—without stopping!”

“And?” Niragi said, mocking. “What, you want me to carry you again?”

You paused.

Blinking.

Because well—

Now that he mentioned it…

He barked out a laugh at the look on your face, grinning. “Oh, no. No way.” He turned forward again, continuing on like you weren’t suffering. “I already did that shit once. You get one.”

You sighed, dragging your feet harder now, like they’d feel bad and slow down.

They didn’t.

You tried again.

“Chishiya…” you called, more hopeful this time, speeding up slightly to get closer to him.

But he didn’t even look at you.

“I’m not carrying you either.” he said simply.

You let out a dramatic groan. “I wasn’t asking for that!”

You totally were.

He didn’t call you out on it, though.

But Niragi did.

“She totally was.” he laughed, nudging Chishiya’s shoulder. Chishiya barely reacted, eyes set ahead.

“Just—can we stop?” you tried. “Just for a little?”

Niragi snorted. “No.”

And you nearly stomped your foot. “Why not?”

“Because I said so.” he answered so quickly, like a petulant child, before laughing again at his own stupidity.

You didn’t laugh. “You’re mean.”

“You’re slow.” he shot back. “Maybe if you moved your ass instead of complaining so much, we’d already be there.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining if I wasn’t dying!”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

You let out a frustrated little noise, throwing your hands up.

This was so unfair. He was awful.

And Chishiya? Well. He was at least less awful.

You slowed your steps again, lagging behind them, defeated. And even though you were tired, and hungry, and thirsty, and miserable—you still followed. Because you had nowhere else to go. You dragged your feet along the pavement, arms crossed over your chest, your bottom lip sticking out in a deep pout. You were hungry, thirsty, exhausted— and the worst part? You had to pee.

Badly.

And knowing these assholes, that wasn’t going to go over well.

But you had to try.

You picked up your pace a little, hurrying to close the gap between you and Chishiya. Niragi was always an asshole, but sometimes, if you were really lucky, Chishiya would at least consider listening to you.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Chishiya…” you called softly, peering up at him.

He didn’t look at you.

Didn’t even acknowledge you.

“…Chishiya.” you said again, more insistent this time, tugging at his sleeve.

He let out a small breath through his nose. “What.”

You blinked up at him, still pulling at his sleeve. “I have to pee.”

He was silent.

Then—

“No.”

Your mouth fell open. “What do you mean, no?”

“We’re not stopping.” he said simply.

You let out an exasperated noise, dropping his sleeve and turning your attention to Niragi instead.

He was already grinning.

You didn’t like that.

“Niragi.” you started, hopeful. “I really, really have to—”

“Pee yourself.”

You froze. Blinking. The audacity. Your brows furrowed instantly, a small gasp leaving your lips. “I am not peeing myself!”

Niragi just laughed. “Well, then hold it.”

“I can’t hold it forever!”

“Figure it out.”

You groaned. “You’re both awful.”

“Yup.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Your eye twitched. This was so unfair. It wasn’t like you were asking for a lot! You weren’t even asking them to find a real bathroom—just a second, just to stop for one second so you could go somewhere behind a car or something.

But no.

Because they were assholes.

Evil.

Your legs pressed together slightly as you walked, and you let out another dramatic whine. “I can’t believe this.” you muttered. “You’re really making me suffer.”

“You’ll live.”

You sighed, shoulders dropping. You had no choice but to keep walking. You’d have to figure it out later.

But you weren’t forgetting this.

They were going to pay for this.

You walked along behind them, practically dragging your feet, your arms swinging dramatically with every step. The sky was growing darker, the city eerily quiet, but all you could focus on was the increasingly urgent need to pee.

It was honestly becoming a crisis.

“Come onnnn.” you whined, hurrying a few steps to catch up to them again. “Can’t we stop for just five minutes?”

“No.” Chishiya replied without looking at you.

“Why not?” you protested, throwing your arms up. “It’ll be quick! I’ll be quick!”

“Still no.”

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Please, I’m begging you.”

Niragi snickered, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Didn’t know you’d get so desperate over something so boring.”

You shot him a glare. “It’s not boring if you’re the one who has to pee.”

“Piss your pants then.”

You gasped. “I am not going to pee myself!”

“Why not? Could be fun.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “That’s disgusting.”

Niragi just laughed.

You stomped your foot, frustrated. “You’re both being so mean to me!”

Chishiya let out a small breath through his nose. “You’ll survive.”

You whined again, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”

They kept walking. You stared at their backs, your nose scrunching in frustration.

Okay. Fine. If they weren’t going to stop, then you’d just… you’d…

Wait.

If you went off to pee by yourself…

Alone.

In the dark.

In a creepy, empty city.

Your stomach sank.

You glanced nervously over your shoulder. The streets stretched on endlessly behind you, shadowed alleyways and looming buildings on either side. Even with the sky darkening, the silence was deafening.

What if something was out there? What if someone was out there?

A shiver ran down your spine.

…Maybe stopping wasn’t such a good idea.

But you really had to pee.

Your lip wobbled.

This was a dilemma.

You hurried up to them again, practically skipping to catch up.“Niragi.”

“What.”

“I don’t wanna go alone.”

Niragi raised an eyebrow, looking over at you. “What, you want me to watch?”

“No!”

Chishiya sighed.

You whined, stomping your foot again. “You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be!”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

You huffed. “You’re both awful.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Niragi waved a hand dismissively. “Quit your bitching.”

“I’m not bitching.”

“You’re definitely bitching.”

You pouted. “I just don’t wanna go alone.”

Niragi tilted his head at you, eyes narrowing slightly. Then, to your surprise, he shoved his gun into your hands.

“There.” His lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Now you can go take care of yourself.”

You stared down at the gun in your hands. Looked back up at him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Niragi shrugged. “Point and shoot.”

You frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.” He stepped closer. “Unless you’d rather I come with you.”

You shoved him. “Ew! No!”

He just laughed.

You huffed, glaring at him, but your eyes dropped back down to the gun.

…Okay. You could work with this.

It wasn’t exactly comforting, but at least you’d have something with you.

You sighed, gripping the gun a little tighter. “Fine.”

Niragi snickered, and Chishiya simply kept walking, not even bothering to look back at you. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before stepping off the road and into the shadows.

You could do this.

Probably.

Niragi had a habit of testing boundaries.

It wasn’t enough for him to win someone over. No, once he had someone close—once they were within arm’s reach, once they trusted him enough to look at him without fear—that’s when he started to push. He wanted to see how far he could go. How much he could get away with before you snapped, before you pushed back, before you told him to stop.

But you never did. That was the thing about you. You didn’t push back. You just took it.

Sure, you pouted, you whined, you huffed and rolled your eyes, but you never once told him to stop. You never yelled at him. You never looked at him with the kind of fear or disgust that he’d gotten used to from everyone else. Even when he scared you—and oh, he knew he scared you sometimes—you didn’t run.

You stayed.

It was fascinating.

You were fascinating.

Soft. Sweet. Easy.

Like a little wind-up doll, all dressed in pastels and wide eyes, clinging to his arm with those delicate little hands and flinching at the sound of gunfire. You forgave him far too easily, like it was second nature. Like you didn’t even think about it. He could scream in your face one minute and have you curled up against him the next, and you wouldn’t question it.

Maybe it was because you were scared.

But Niragi didn’t think that was it.

He’d seen fear. Hell, he lived for fear. He could practically taste it when it clung to the air. But you… you weren’t scared. Not really. Sure, you flinched when he got loud, and your eyes went all wide when he waved his gun around, but there was something else there, under the surface. Some quiet, unshakable belief that he wouldn’t actually hurt you.

And he wouldn’t.

Probably.

You were too fun to mess with.

Besides, you were his.

Not in a romantic sense. Not really. But in the way a cat claimed a favorite toy. Or maybe a favorite bug. One he could bat around a little, watch it squirm, see what it would do.

You made things… interesting.

And as long as you kept taking it, he wasn’t going to stop.

Why would he?

But Chishiya? Chishiya was a whole different story. Where Niragi was loud and reckless, Chishiya was quiet. The kind of person who never did anything without a reason. Every look, every word, every step was carefully measured, weighed against some invisible scale that only he could see.

Chishiya didn’t push.

He watched.

There was a kind of quiet judgment in his gaze, the kind that made people squirm without him ever needing to raise his voice. He could sit silently for hours, observing the people around him, taking in every twitch, every glance, every flicker of emotion, and somehow know exactly what made them tick.

And that made him dangerous.

You intrigued him.

You were soft. Open. Easy to read. Everything you felt was written plainly across your face, from the crinkle of your nose when Niragi teased you to the way your eyes softened when Chishiya so much as glanced in your direction. There was no mask with you. No calculation. Just pure, unfiltered emotion.

It was almost… refreshing.

Almost.

But it also made you vulnerable.

And Chishiya didn’t trust vulnerability.

He watched the way you latched onto Niragi, how you clung to his arm even after he’d scared you half to death. He watched the way you forgave. The way you trusted. The way you gave and gave and gave, even when you got nothing in return.

And he didn’t like it.

Not because he cared.

Not really.

But because he knew people like Niragi. People who took and took and took, chewing others up and spitting them out without a second thought. He knew what it meant to be soft in a place like this. He knew how easily softness could be crushed.

And maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to see that happen to you.

Maybe.

But he wasn’t about to admit that.

You picked up the pace, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the empty buildings. When you finally reached them, you shoved the gun back into Niragi’s hands without ceremony. “Here. I don’t want this anymore.”

Niragi laughed, loud, spinning the gun in his hand. “Aww, done playing soldier?” He gave you a grin that showed just a little too much teeth. “Figured you’d end up shooting yourself in the foot.”

You ignored him, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. “It’s so hot.” you whined, tugging at the front of your dress to fan yourself. “I feel like I’m gonna melt.”

Chishiya barely spared you a glance. “It’s summer.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” you grumbled. “I hate it. I feel all sticky.” You wiped your hands on the hem of your dress and wrinkled your nose. “And I’m hungry.”

Niragi scoffed. “You’re always hungry.”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide and innocent. “Because you never feed me.”

He barked out a laugh. “You’re not a fucking puppy.”

“I could be. If it meant you’d actually give me something to eat.”

“Well, aren’t you just precious.” he sneered, reaching out to flick your nose. You swatted his hand away, scowling, but he only grinned wider. “You’ll eat after the game.”

Your stomach sank. “After?”

Chishiya glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Be patient.”

You stared at him, mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the right words. “But…” You looked around, gesturing to the empty street. “But it’s already late. What if the game takes hours? What if I pass out from hunger in the middle of it?” You pressed a hand dramatically to your forehead. “You’ll have to carry me.”

“That’d be the least of our problems.” Chishiya deadpanned.

You turned to Niragi, wide-eyed and pleading. “What if I die?”

He snorted. “Then at least you won’t be hungry anymore.”

You gasped, slapping his arm. “You’re awful.”

“And you’re dramatic.” Niragi smirked, twirling his gun again as he walked ahead. “Come on, princess. You’ll survive.”

You huffed but followed, dragging your feet a little just to be petty. The heat pressed down on you, making every step feel heavier, and the hunger gnawed at your stomach. At least you didn’t have to pee anymore. Your eyes drifted to the sky, watching as the colors darkened, the last streaks of sunlight melting into shadows.

Fuck. Fuck them. Fuck you. Fuck.

~

The game was set in an old department store—a massive, darkened labyrinth of empty shelves and abandoned checkout counters. The automatic doors had long since stopped working, left ajar just enough for people to slip through. It felt cold inside, even with the summer heat lingering outside, and the air smelled faintly of dust and rust. The kind of place that felt haunted even if there weren’t death games happening inside.

The three of you stood near the escalators, waiting. The others—about ten or so—scattered through the first floor, some lingering near the dark aisles, others watching the entrance. Everyone was quiet, the only sounds coming from the soft hum of the emergency lights overhead. Each flicker of movement had heads turning sharply, eyes darting, bodies tense.

Niragi stood to your right, leaning against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest. His gun rested easily against his hip, one finger tapping lazily against the handle. He scanned the room with a bored expression, though you knew better. He was watching. Calculating. Deciding who would scream the loudest if he shot them first.

Chishiya was on your left, leaning against the glass railing, his gaze equally sharp but far more subtle. He had that quiet curiosity about him, like he was studying everyone as if they were pieces on a board, already thinking three moves ahead.

You, on the other hand, were fidgeting. The cold air made your skin prickle, and you shifted from foot to foot, glancing around. You hated the waiting. The quiet. It was always worse before the game started, when the silence felt heavy, like it was pressing down on you.

You frowned, glancing around the store. “It’s weird. I always thought department stores were kind of cozy, you know? When they’re open and full of people.” You rubbed your arms, shivering a little. “But now it feels… wrong.”

“That’s because it is wrong.” Niragi drawled, pushing off the pillar and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “This place is a graveyard. Bet you anything half these losers won’t make it out.”

You frowned but didn’t shrug him off. The weight of his arm was grounding, in a way. “Don’t say that.”

He laughed. “What, too dark for you?” He squeezed your shoulder, leaning in close. “You better toughen up. Games don’t care how sweet you are.”

You sighed, resting your head against his arm. “I know.”

Chishiya watched the exchange quietly, his eyes flicking between the two of you. He tilted his head slightly, observing the way Niragi hovered close, possessive in a way that felt more animal than human. He’d always been like that. Claiming things. People. Biting into them just to see how much they’d bleed.

But you… You were soft. Warm. And Niragi clung to that warmth like a drowning man, desperate and reckless, sinking his claws into you just to keep from going under. Chishiya couldn’t decide if it was pathetic or dangerous. Maybe both.

You shifted, pulling away from Niragi just enough to face Chishiya. “What about you? Do you think we’ll be okay?”

He blinked slowly, considering you. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On the game.”

You sighed, leaning against the railing. “You’re no help.”

Niragi snorted. “Told you.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, but before he could retaliate, the lights flickered. Everyone tensed, eyes snapping to the ceiling as the emergency lights blinked twice before settling into a steady glow. The sound of heavy metal doors sliding shut echoed through the building, sealing everyone inside.

A screen flickered to life above the escalators, casting the room in a cold, blue light.

GAME: SILENT.

DIFFICULTY: 5 OF DIAMONDS

Of course. You glanced at Chishiya, who barely blinked. Niragi just sneered.

RULES:

Each player will be assigned a section of the store. You must locate your section and remain there until further instruction.

If the sound sensors detect noise above a certain threshold—

A low beep sounded from overhead. The screen shifted, showing a digital counter set to 100. It hovered ominously, a bright red warning against the cold blue screen.

—the counter will decrease.

The screen displayed a quick animation: a digital figure knocking over a can, the counter ticking down. When it hit 0, a loud, sharp buzz echoed through the store, and the figure collapsed. Dead.

If the counter reaches zero, all players will be eliminated.

Silence. The room felt colder. Heavier. You gripped your arms tightly, barely breathing.

“Wait…” You frowned. “So we just have to be quiet?”

Niragi laughed under his breath, low. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Chishiya’s eyes narrowed. “There’s more.”

The screen flickered again, showing a floor plan of the department store. Various sections lit up—electronics, clothing, home things—each one marked with a small red dot.

A challenge will be issued in each section. Complete the challenge without triggering the sound sensors. Failure to complete the challenge will result in a penalty.

You didn’t even want to know what the penalty was.

Complete all challenges before the counter reaches zero to win.

And just like that, the screen went dark. The emergency lights dimmed even further, barely illuminating the space. The only sound was the faint buzz of the screen and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

A soft click echoed through the store, and you jumped as small wristbands slid out from a slot below the screen. One for each of the players.

Niragi grabbed his first, spinning it around his finger before snapping it onto his wrist. Chishiya took his without a word, fastening it with a soft click. You hesitated before slipping yours on, the band tightening automatically.

A soft beep sounded as the screens on your wristbands lit up.

GAME START.

A small map appeared, showing your location and marking a path to your assigned section.

“Well,” Niragi said, rolling his shoulders. “looks like we’re splitting up.”

Your heart sank. “What?”

He tilted his head. “You heard the rules. Each player gets a section. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll come find you when you screw up.”

You frowned, glancing nervously at Chishiya. He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “The challenges will test your problem-solving. Staying quiet is just the extra layer of difficulty.” he murmured.

“But…” You bit your lip. “What if I can’t do it?”

Niragi snorted. “Then you die.”

You flinched, but Chishiya just rolled his eyes. “He’s exaggerating.” He glanced at his wristband, already scanning the map. “The goal is to complete all the challenges before the counter hits zero. As long as you’re careful, you’ll be fine.”

You weren’t sure you believed him.

Niragi turned toward the aisles, whistling softly—the sound immediately earning a soft beep from the ceiling, the counter ticking down from 100 to 99.

“Oops.” he grinned. “Guess I should be more careful.”

You wanted to slap him.

Chishiya sighed. “Let’s go.”

You followed them through the store, the silence heavy around you. Your section was in the clothing department, while Chishiya’s was in electronics and Niragi’s in sport.

As you approached the branching hallways, Niragi gave you a sharp grin. “Don’t get lost.” He flicked your forehead, making you flinch. “I’ll come find your corpse later.”

Before you could snap at him, he walked off into the darkness, gun resting on his shoulder.

Chishiya looked at you. “I think you’ll survive.” His gaze softened, just slightly. “Stay quiet. And don’t overthink things.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Okay.”

He hesitated for a moment, eyes lingering on you, before finally turning away, slipping into the shadows.

And just like that… you were alone.

~

The sky was dark, darker than usual.

You stood alone on the cracked sidewalk, arms wrapped tightly around your little pink bag like it could shield you from the horrors of this place. The game was over. You survived. But that familiar weight in your chest wouldn’t ease.

The street was dead silent, save for the soft scuff of your pretty shoes shifting nervously against the pavement. You glanced down at your hands, trembling slightly as they clutched the straps of your bag. You squeezed your fingers tighter, trying to ground yourself.

You were fine. You were alive. That’s what mattered.

Then you heard footsteps.

Your head snapped up, heart lurching into your throat. From the shadows, two figures emerged—familiar, but no less unsettling. Niragi’s long frame cut through the night like a knife, his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder, mouth twisted into something like a sneer.

Chishiya followed a few paces behind, quieter, calmer, hands tucked into his pockets like he hadn’t just come from a life-or-death game. His eyes flicked over you once, taking in the way you curled into yourself, before settling somewhere past your shoulder.

“What, you thought we’d die or something?” Niragi’s voice was low, almost bored, but it made you flinch all the same. His eyes glinted under the faint moonlight, his piercings also.

You shrank back a little, but forced yourself to speak. “I… I was worried.” Your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper. You hated how fragile it sounded. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Niragi scoffed, shifting his rifle with a careless swing of his arm. “How cute.” He tilted his head, studying you. “What do you think this is, princess? Some happy little survival club? No one cares if you’re worried.”

You dropped your gaze, biting your lip.

Of course he’d say that. Of course. But still… you had worried. You always did. Even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“I care.” you murmured, almost to yourself.

Niragi’s grin faltered for a second. Just a second. His eyes flicked over you again, slower this time, like he was trying to figure out what the hell you were made of. Then he snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a real piece of work.”

You shifted uncomfortably, fingers tightening around your bag. “I’m glad you’re okay.” you said softly, eyes darting toward Chishiya. He hadn’t spoken a word. Just stood there, quiet.

“You too, Chishiya.”

He blinked, surprised for a moment that you’d addressed him. Then he offered the smallest nod, eyes lingering on you a beat longer than necessary. It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

The silence stretched between the three of you, heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, searching for something—anything—to fill the void.

“So… how was the game?” you asked quietly.

Niragi let out a sharp bark of laughter. “What, you wanna swap war stories now?”

You flinched. “No, I just… I don’t know.” You looked down, scuffing your shoe against the cracked pavement. “I guess I just want to talk.”

Niragi scoffed again, but it sounded almost tired this time. He turned away, staring out into the darkness like he could see something you couldn’t. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should apologize. You shifted on your feet, then hesitantly stepped closer to them. Neither of them moved. Slowly, carefully, you reached out and brushed your fingers against Niragi’s sleeve. His body tensed instantly, and for a moment, you thought he might shove you away. But he didn’t. He just stood there, silent and still, letting your touch linger.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” you whispered again.

Niragi scoffed, low and quiet, but you heard the way his breath hitched. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Maybe you were. But you didn’t let go.

You shifted again, biting your lip, voice soft and hesitant. “Um… Can we eat now?”

Niragi’s head snapped toward you so fast you almost stumbled back. His eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth curling into a sneer. “What?”

You swallowed thickly, fingers twisting into the fabric of your bag. “You… you promised.” you whispered. “After the game. You said we could eat after the game.”

Niragi stared at you for a long moment, eyes glittering with something unreadable. Then, to your horror, he let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Oh, right. I forgot I made a promise to the princess.” He leaned in close, voice dropping into something low and mean. “Newsflash, sweetheart. Promises don’t mean shit here.”

“But I’m hungry.” you said softly, almost pleading. “You said—”

“I said,” Niragi snapped, cutting you off. “a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I have to keep my word.” He grinned, sharp and mean, tilting his head to the side. “Besides, what’s a little hunger? Builds character.”

Your stomach twisted painfully, both from his words and the ache gnawing at your insides. You’d been walking all day, barely eating anything, and the fear from earlier had left you drained. You were exhausted. You were starving. And Niragi… Niragi didn’t care.

Niragi stared at you for a moment, eyes flickering over your trembling form, before scoffing and turning away. “Jesus. You’re so fucking pathetic.”

Your heart sank. You bit your lip, glancing toward Chishiya for support, but he remained silent, watching the interaction with that same unreadable expression. You dropped your gaze, shoulders sagging.

Then, quietly, Chishiya spoke. “She should eat.”

Niragi froze, his head turning slowly toward Chishiya. “What?” he hissed.

Chishiya met his glare with infuriating calmness, his voice quiet and even. “She should eat.” he repeated. “You promised her. Keep your word.”

The air shifted instantly. Niragi’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring. He took a step toward Chishiya, his sneer sharpening into something colder, crueler. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in charge now.” His voice dripped with venom. “Didn’t know you suddenly cared.”

Chishiya didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “I don’t.” he said simply. “But she does.”

Niragi’s grip tightened around his rifle, knuckles going white. For a moment, you thought he might actually raise it. The tension between them crackled like static in the air, dangerous. You shrank back, heart racing, eyes darting between them.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Niragi let out a sharp breath, rolling his eyes. “You’re so fucking annoying.” He turned away, muttering under his breath.

Niragi started walking, the weight of his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder.

You blinked hard, trying to stay focused, but the pavement felt like it was tilting beneath your feet. Your stomach twisted painfully, the hunger gnawing at you sharper now, almost dizzying. You started walking after them. You didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

The game had been long. The walking had been longer. Your body felt drained, trembling slightly with every step. But you kept going. You always did.

Then your vision blurred. The world tilted sideways, and your knees buckled.

“Woah—shit.” Your knees hit the pavement before you even realized you’d fallen, the rough concrete scraping against your skin. Your pink bag slipped from your fingers, landing with a soft thud beside you. The world spun violently.

“Y/N?” Chishiya’s voice was quiet, but sharp enough to cut through the haze in your mind. Footsteps followed, slow.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself, but it didn’t help. The hunger, the exhaustion—it was all too much. “I’m… I’m okay.” you whispered, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince. “Just… dizzy.”

“Dizzy?” Niragi’s voice snapped through the night like a whip. His footsteps were faster, louder, echoing in your ears. “The fuck do you mean ‘dizzy’?”

You blinked up at him, vision still swimming. He loomed over you, jaw tight. His rifle hung loosely at his side, but his other hand twitched at his hip, fingers curling and uncurling like he didn’t know what to do with them.

You forced a weak smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. “I just… I think I need a minute.”

Niragi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “A minute.” he repeated. “You’re sitting on the fucking ground, looking like you’re about to pass out, and you need a minute?”

You flinched at the sharpness in his tone, but before you could answer, Chishiya’s voice cut through the tension.

“She hasn’t eaten.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You saw the way Niragi’s body tensed, his fingers curling tighter at his side. He turned slowly, fixing Chishiya with a look so cold it could’ve frozen the air between them. “What?”

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, his face unreadable. “She hasn’t eaten.” he repeated calmly. “I told you.”

Niragi’s jaw tightened. “Oh, fuck you.”

Chishiya shrugged. “You’re the one who said promises don’t mean shit.”

Niragi’s grip tightened around his rifle, knuckles going white. For a second, you thought he might actually swing it at Chishiya, but instead, he whirled back toward you, crouching down so you were eye-level. His face was inches from yours, scanning your face like he was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with you.

You shrank back slightly, heart racing. “Niragi, I—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he snapped. His voice was sharp, almost angry, but there was something else beneath it—something raw. “Huh? You were just gonna fucking keel over and die on us?”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” you whispered. “You were tired after the game, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”

Niragi stared at you. Then he scoffed, running a hand through his hair and letting out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable.” He stood abruptly, pacing a few steps away before turning back to glare at Chishiya. “You think you’re so fucking smart, huh?” He jabbed a finger at him. “Standing there, all high and mighty, like you knew this was gonna happen.”

Chishiya’s gaze flicked toward you, lingering for a moment before shifting back to Niragi. “I did.”

Niragi’s grip tightened around his rifle, but before he could lash out again, you spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Both men turned toward you. Niragi looked pissed. Chishiya just looked… tired.

“I didn’t mean to make things difficult.” you said softly. “I just… I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.” You forced a small smile, even as your vision swam again. “I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.”

Niragi stared at you, his jaw tight, breathing heavy. Then he let out a sharp breath and crouched down in front of you again, his hands resting on his knees. “You’re so fucking stupid.” His voice was quieter now, almost… soft.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “What?”

“You heard me.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re fucking stupid. Always putting everyone else first. Always apologizing.” His eyes narrowed. “You think that makes you strong? It makes you weak.”

You swallowed, lowering your gaze. “I’m not weak.”

Niragi stared at you for a long moment. Then, to your surprise, he sighed and dropped onto the pavement beside you, legs stretched out in front of him. “You’re lucky I like weak things.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

He ignored you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled protein bar. Without a word, he shoved it into your hands. “Eat.”

You blinked down at the bar, then back up at him. “But—”

“Eat.” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “Before I shove it down your throat.”

You hesitated, glancing toward Chishiya, who just raised a brow and gestured vaguely toward Niragi. “Don’t look at me. I told him to feed you an hour ago.”

Niragi growled under his breath, but you ignored him, carefully unwrapping the bar and taking a small bite. You nearly moaned. Your body practically sighed in relief, the dizziness easing just enough for you to breathe again.

You glanced toward Niragi, your heart softening a little at the way he stared out into the dark, jaw tight, refusing to look at you.

“Thank you.” you whispered.

He didn’t respond. Just sat there in silence, his fingers twitching slightly at his side.

Chishiya watched quietly, eyes flicking between the two of you before he let out a soft huff and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Idiots.”

Neither of you answered.

The dizziness had faded to a dull throb behind your eyes, and your body felt less like it was about to give out. Small victories.

You shifted slightly, curling your legs beneath you as you hugged your pink bag to your chest. Niragi sat beside you, silent now, his long legs stretched out in front of him, rifle resting lazily across his lap. He hadn’t spoken since forcing the protein bar into your hands. Didn’t even look at you. Just stared out into the night like he was waiting for something—or maybe trying not to feel something.

Chishiya lingered a few feet away, leaning against the crumbling wall of the store behind you.

“Do you think…” You hesitated, voice soft, almost unsure. “Do you think we could go back inside?”

Niragi stiffened slightly, his head snapping toward you. “What?”

You swallowed, curling your fingers tighter around your bag. “The department store. There might still be food in there. Or water. I just thought…” You trailed off, heart pounding a little faster under his sudden scrutiny. “It’s probably a stupid idea.”

Niragi stared at you for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

You blinked, startled. “Where are you going?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Where do you think?” He jerked his head toward the dark entrance of the store. “Someone’s gotta keep you from passing out again.”

Before you could say anything, he walked off toward the building. You stared after him, a little stunned. Niragi… was going to get food? For you?

Chishiya let out a soft huff, drawing your attention. “I wouldn’t be so touched.” he said dryly. “He probably just wants an excuse to shoot something.”

You frowned, hugging your bag tighter as Niragi disappeared into the shadows. “He’s not that bad.”

Chishiya raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “No?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall behind you. “Okay, maybe he is that bad. But… he didn’t have to go.”

Chishiya shrugged, his gaze drifting toward the dark entrance. “He likes having an excuse to feel useful.” His eyes flicked back to you. “And you give him a lot of excuses.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The silence stretched between you. You shifted slightly, picking at a loose thread on your bag before glancing up at him.

“What about you?” you asked softly. “Why do you stay?”

Chishiya blinked, clearly not expecting the question. He tilted his head slightly, considering you for a moment. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged. “I asked first.”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it faded quickly. “I stay for the entertainment.” he said simply.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Softer, somehow. You glanced toward the department store, half-expecting Niragi to come stomping back out, but the entrance remained dark and empty.

“Do you think he’s okay?” you asked quietly.

Chishiya huffed a soft laugh. “He’s probably having the time of his life.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You worry too much.”

You smiled faintly. “Someone has to.”

Chishiya didn’t respond. Just watched you quietly, his expression unreadable.

Niragi had been gone for a while now, long enough that you started to feel that familiar worry twist in your stomach. But when you glanced at Chishiya, leaning against the wall a few feet away, he looked as relaxed as ever.

You bit your lip, watching him quietly for a moment. The shadows stretched long across his face, the soft moonlight catching on the silver of his hair. He didn’t look at you, eyes half-lidded as he stared off into the dark. Always so distant. Always so quiet.

“Hey.” you said softly.

Chishiya’s gaze flicked toward you, slow and lazy, like you’d interrupted some deep train of thought. He raised a brow. “What?”

You hesitated, fingers twisting into the fabric of your bag. “What’s up with you?”

His brow arched higher, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like you’d asked him the dumbest question imaginable. “What?”

You shrugged, glancing down at your hands. “I mean… how are you? You’re always so quiet. I just wondered…” You trailed off, biting your lip. “I don’t know. You don’t talk much.”

Chishiya let out a soft huff, barely a laugh, and looked away again. “There’s not much to say.”

You frowned, shifting slightly to face him better. “That’s not true.” You hesitated, then patted the empty spot on the pavement beside you. “Sit down.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just sit.”

For a moment, you thought he might ignore you. But after a long pause, he let out a quiet sigh and pushed off the wall, walking over to sink onto the pavement beside you. He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, and leaned back on his hands.

You watched him quietly for a moment, trying to read the expression on his face, but as always, it gave away nothing. He just stared out into the darkness, eyes half-lidded, mouth set in a soft line.

“Better?” he asked dryly.

You smiled faintly. “A little.”

The silence settled again, heavier this time. You shifted slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You know… you’re really hard to read.”

Chishiya huffed softly. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” You hesitated, fingers tapping lightly against your bag. “I just mean… you never talk about yourself. Not really.” You glanced at him again. “Why is that?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted toward the dark store, eyes narrowing slightly as if he was watching for any sign of Niragi. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “What’s the point?”

You blinked. “What?”

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, the moonlight catching in his hair. “Talking. Sharing. It doesn’t change anything.” He shrugged, gaze still fixed on the darkness. “People like to think it does. But it doesn’t.”

You frowned, hugging your bag tighter. “I don’t think that’s true.”

He scoffed softly. “Of course you don’t.”

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “You shared with me once.”

That made him pause. His gaze flicked toward you, assessing. “Did I?”

You nodded slowly. “A while ago. You told me things.” You looked down at your hands. “I remember.”

Oh, he remembered that very well. One of his happiest memories in that miserable life of his, probably.

“That was a mistake.”

You blinked, surprised. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because now you think you know me.”

You stared at him, heart sinking a little. “I don’t.” you said softly. “But… I’d like to.”

Chishiya turned toward you, eyes narrowing slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something cutting. But then he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, and the silence stretched long between you.

Finally, he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. “You’re exhausting.”

You smiled faintly. “I get that a lot.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The darkness stretched around you, quiet and still, and the soft hum of the night filled the air. You glanced at Chishiya again, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each slow breath, the way his silver hair fell into his eyes. He looked almost peaceful. Almost.

“Thank you.” you whispered.

Chishiya’s eyes opened slowly, gaze flicking toward you. “For what?”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “For sitting with me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes searching your face. Then he let out a soft huff and closed his eyes again, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Don’t mention it.” he muttered.

You shifted slightly, resting your chin on your knees, arms wrapped around your legs. The pavement was cold beneath you, but you didn’t mind. Chishiya stayed quiet at your side, eyes closed, breathing slow and even like the dark world around him didn’t exist.

You let yourself relax for a moment. The dizziness had faded a little. Or maybe you were just getting used to it. Either way, the night air felt cool against your skin, and the weight in your chest didn’t feel as heavy with Chishiya sitting next to you.

Then, in the distance, you heard footsteps. Heavy ones. Loud. Familiar.

You turned your head, watching as a shadow emerged from the darkness. Niragi. Aa plastic bag swinging from one hand, rifle slung over his shoulder. Even in the dim light, you could see the irritation painted across his face.

“Well, aren’t I just the fucking delivery boy.” he sneered, holding up the bag like it physically offended him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You blinked, surprised. “You actually found stuff?”

Niragi scoffed, dropping the bag into your lap with a loud crinkle. “Yeah. You think I’m useless or something?”

“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just… Thank you.” You smiled softly, fingers curling around the plastic handles. “Really.”

Niragi stared at you for a long moment, eyes dark and unreadable. Then he rolled them, muttering something under his breath as he dropped onto the pavement beside you, stretching his legs out with a huff.

You peeked inside the bag and felt a rush of relief at the sight of the food. You grabbed the water first, cracking the lid open and taking a long, slow sip, your throat burning with each swallow. God, that felt good.

Chishiya watched quietly as you started pulling things out of the bag, carefully tucking each item into your pink bag. You worked slowly, carefully fitting everything inside, fingers gentle, movements soft. Niragi just stared out into the night, rifle resting across his lap.

But you… you couldn’t stop talking.

“You know,” you began softly, glancing between the two of them. “you guys are really different.”

Niragi snorted. “No shit.”

You smiled faintly. “I just mean… you’re both quiet. But in different ways.” You glanced at Chishiya, who arched a brow. “You watch people. You’re careful. I feel like you’re always calculating something.”

Chishiya huffed softly. “Observing.”

“Right.” you said, nodding. “Observing.” You bit your lip, glancing at Niragi. “And you… you’re loud. Even when you’re quiet.”

Niragi shot you a look. “The fuck does that mean?”

You shrugged, carefully sliding a protein bar into the side pocket of your bag. “You fill the space around you. You’re… intense.” You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the zipper of your bag. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

Niragi stared at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re weird.”

You laughed softly. “I get that a lot.”

You get a lot of things thrown at your head, Y/N.

The silence stretched again, but it didn’t feel so heavy this time. You sat quietly, tucking the last of the food into your bag before zipping it up and hugging it to your chest.

“Why do you care so much?” Chishiya asked suddenly.

You blinked, glancing at him. “What?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Us. Why do you care?”

You stared at him for a moment, heart sinking a little. “Because… someone has to.”

Niragi scoffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You smiled faintly. “Probably.” You glanced between them, heart softening a little.

Chishiya watched you quietly. Niragi just rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms cover his chest.

“Lucky us.” Niragi muttered.

You just smiled, hugging your bag tighter. The food inside felt like a tiny victory, even if Niragi had made a show of slamming the bag into your lap like it was some huge inconvenience.

You glanced between them—Niragi, lounging against the wall like the world bored him, his long legs stretched out and rifle balanced lazily across his lap. Chishiya, quiet and still, arms folded over his chest, eyes half-lidded like he was seconds away from falling asleep. They were so different, and yet… here they were. Both of them. With you.

A soft breath slipped past your lips, and you pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the dust from your clothes. Niragi tilted his head back to look up at you, brow furrowing slightly.

“What are you doing?”

You ignored him, shifting your bag over your shoulder and holding out a hand. “Come on.”

Niragi stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “What?”

“Let’s go.” You gestured vaguely at the empty street ahead of you. “We can’t just sit here all night.”

Niragi scoffed. “Why not? No one’s stopping us.”

You huffed softly, reaching down to grab his hand. He tensed beneath your touch, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t let go. His fingers curled instinctively around yours even as he scowled.

“Come on.” you said again, gentler this time. “Please?”

Niragi let out a long, dramatic sigh, but he stood, towering over you as he stretched his arms above his head. “You’re so fucking annoying.” he muttered.

You smiled softly. “I know.”

Chishiya watched the two of you quietly, his gaze flicking down to where your fingers curled around Niragi’s hand. He arched a brow, but said nothing.

“And you.” you said, turning toward him. “You’re not off the hook.”

Chishiya blinked, eyes narrowing slightly. “Hm?”

You grabbed his hand, fingers curling around his wrist, tugging gently. “Come on. You too.”

Chishiya didn’t move at first. He just sat there, staring at you like he was trying to figure out what the fuck your angle was. Then, with a soft sigh, he let you pull him to his feet. His fingers slipped into yours, cool and steady, the complete opposite of Niragi’s tense grip.

Satisfied, you started walking, dragging them along behind you. Niragi grumbled under his breath the entire time, but he didn’t pull away. Chishiya stayed quiet, his steps light and even, barely making a sound against the cracked pavement.

Eventually, you let their hands slip from yours, walking a few steps ahead. The night air felt lighter now, the tension easing from your shoulders with every step.

You glanced back at them, smiling softly. Niragi walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, scowling at the ground like it had personally offended him. Chishiya moved like a shadow, eyes half-lidded as he watched you from a few paces behind.

“You know,” you said softly, glancing over your shoulder. “I’m really glad I found you guys.”

Niragi scoffed. “Yeah, well. I didn’t fucking ask.”

You just smiled, turning your gaze back to the empty street ahead. For now, with their quiet footsteps trailing behind you and the weight of your cute pink bag against your back, you let yourself believe it’s good. That you’re fine.

~

Niragi was pissed off.

Not at you. God, never at you.

He watched you walk ahead, your pink bag bouncing softly against your back with every step, the gentle sway of your body almost hypnotic in the quiet night. Chishiya had moved further up the road, putting space between himself and the two of you—typical. The bastard never liked getting too close. Niragi didn’t care about him, though. Right now, his eyes were locked on you.

You were so fucking soft. Even after everything you’d seen, everything he’d done right in front of you, you still turned around to check on him. Still smiled at him like he was worth something. Like he wasn’t a monster.

It made him furious.

Because Niragi wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was.

Violent. Cruel. Twisted. He’d killed people. Laughed about it. Wallowed in the blood and the fire and the chaos of it all. This place it gave him permission to be the ugliest version of himself. And he liked it. He liked the way people flinched when they saw him. The way they shrank back from his smile and the glint of his rifle.

But you? You never shrank away.

You should have. After everything he did, after the man he killed right in front of you, you should’ve run as far and as fast as you could. Let’s not even talk about when they made you kill that guy. But instead, you stayed. Even when you flinched at his violence, even when your eyes welled up with tears and your hands shook, you stayed. You cried, but you didn’t leave. And when the tears stopped, you reached for him. Like he deserved your comfort. Like he deserved you.

It made him sick. It made him angry.

Not at you. Never at you.

At himself.

Because Niragi felt.

And he fucking hated it.

He hated the way his chest squeezed when you smiled at him, soft and sweet like a sunrise he didn’t deserve to see. He hated the way his hands ached to touch you, to feel your warmth, your softness, your kindness—things he’d never had and never would. He hated the way his body gravitated toward you.

He hated that you made him want to be better.

He shoved the thought down deep, scowling as he watched you walk ahead. You moved so easily, your steps light and soft even on the cracked pavement. Like you belonged anywhere but here. Like the darkness couldn’t touch you.

Niragi’s fists clenched.

You didn’t belong here. Not with him. Not with Chishiya. Not in this fucking place.

But you stayed anyway.

And it terrified him.

Because what the hell was he supposed to do with that? With you?

You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder, glancing back at him over your shoulder, eyes soft and warm even in the darkness. “You okay?” you asked softly.

Niragi stared at you.

Was he okay? No. Fuck no. He felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out. His skin itched with the need to be closer to you and the instinct to push you so far away you’d never find your way back. His chest ached, tight and unfamiliar, like his ribs were trying to crush something too soft to survive. He wanted to scream. He wanted to laugh.

He wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to stay and shove you away in the same breath.

Instead, he shrugged. “Whatever.”

You frowned, biting your lip. God, you were so soft. So sweet. How the hell were you still here?

“Okay.” you said quietly. Then, as if you hadn’t just shattered him with a single word, you turned back around and kept walking.

Niragi let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through his hair. He glanced up ahead, watching Chishiya’s quiet silhouette move further away. Niragi sneered. That smug bastard didn’t deserve you either.

But at least Chishiya didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t.

Niragi… he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing anymore. All he knew was that he couldn’t let you go.

Even if it killed him.

He watched you like a predator, his eyes tracking your every move. You walked with that soft, steady grace, like the world hadn’t already tried to chew you up and spit you out a thousand times. Like you hadn’t just survived another game. There was something infuriating about it, about you. Even in the middle of this hellhole, with death around every corner, you still managed to be… light.

And Niragi hated it.

No—he hated that he needed it.

The world had stripped away every soft thing inside him, leaving behind a jagged, broken thing. People were weak. People were selfish. That’s what this place taught you. Kill or be killed. Hurt or be hurt. He’d chosen to be the one holding the gun, the one laughing while the world burned. That was the only way to survive.

But then you came along.

You with your kindness. Your softness. Your goddamn heart.

It made him sick. It made him angry. It made him feel.

And Niragi didn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

His eyes followed the gentle sway of your pink bag, the way your fingers curled around the strap like it held something precious. You always did that—treated everything with care. Even him. Especially him. After everything he’d done, after all the blood and violence, you still reached for him. Still forgave him.

Why?

What the fuck did you see in him?

You glanced over your shoulder, catching his eye. “You sure you’re okay?” you asked softly, the concern in your voice making his stomach twist.

Niragi scowled. “Why do you care?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Because I do.”

His jaw clenched. His fists curled. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you, shake you, make you understand what a stupid, dangerous thing it was to care about someone like him.

Instead, he just scoffed. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t shy away. You just smiled—soft, patient. “Maybe.”

Niragi stared at you, his chest tightening, his heart pounding against his ribs like a caged animal. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. He wanted to rip himself open and shove every ugly part of himself into your hands just to see if you’d still look at him like that.

But he didn’t.

Because Niragi didn’t know how to be soft. He only knew how to destroy.

And the scariest part?

He was terrified that one day, he’d destroy you too.

His eyes drifted down to your hand.

You’d stretched it out toward him, soft and open, palm facing up. An invitation. A gentle offering. The pink strap of your bag slid down your shoulder as you turned toward him, slowing your pace to match his. Chishiya was still ahead, quiet and distant, but you… you were right here.

No one had ever held their hand out to him like this before.

He’d held hands before—sure. When he was a dumb fucking kid, he used to clutch his mom’s hand when they crossed the street. He could barely remember the feeling of it now, warm and soft.

School was no better. The only time anyone ever grabbed his hand was because they had to—stupid group projects or forced activities, holding hands in a circle like they actually wanted him there. He remembered the way they would barely touch him, just their fingertips ghosting against his skin like he was diseased.

And the girls at the Beach? They’d touched him, sure. In bed, their hands tangled in his hair, nails scraping down his back. But even that wasn’t real. They were drunk on fear or power or the sick rush of survival, just like everyone else. Their hands never lingered. Never stayed.

But this?

This was different.

You were different.

You held your hand out to him like you actually wanted him to take it. No fear. No obligation. Just warmth. Just you.

Niragi stared at your hand, his breath catching in his throat. He felt frozen, like if he moved too quickly, the moment would shatter and you’d slip away. His fingers twitched in his pocket, itching to reach out, to feel the softness of your skin against his own.

But he didn’t deserve it.

Not after everything he’d done. Not after the blood on his hands and the violence in his heart. You shouldn’t be reaching for him. You should be running from him.

But you didn’t.

You just waited, patient and soft, your fingers curling slightly like you were coaxing him closer. “It’s okay.” you said softly, your voice gentle in the quiet night. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fuck.

He felt his heart lurch, something sharp and unfamiliar twisting in his chest. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Before he could stop himself, Niragi’s hand slipped from his pocket. Slowly—so slowly—he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away. You just curled your hand around his, squeezing softly.

Niragi swallowed thickly, his palm pressing against yours. Your hand was so much smaller, so much softer. You just held on.

And Niragi?

He held on too.

His fingers tightened around yours, his grip almost too firm, like if he let go, you’d disappear. His heart pounded in his chest, loud and heavy, and he clenched his jaw, staring straight ahead like it didn’t mean anything. Like his entire world hadn’t just tilted on its axis because of you and your stupid soft hands.

You smiled softly, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. “See? Not so bad.”

Niragi scoffed, looking away. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

But he didn’t let go.

Not even once.

Niragi never meant to get attached.

That wasn’t who he was. Attachments made you weak. They gave people leverage. Made you soft. The borderlands didn’t have room for softness. It was a place where kindness got you killed and love was just another kind of weakness.

But then there was you.

You, with your soft hands and your stupid pink bag, walking with him like you didn’t have a single fear in the world. As if this hellhole wasn’t breathing down your neck every second of the day. As if monsters like him didn’t exist. Or maybe you knew they did and just… didn’t care.

That was the worst part. You knew. You saw what he was capable of. The violence. The cruelty. You’d watched him kill a man without blinking. You’d seen the blood on his hands, the gleam in his eyes when he pulled the trigger. You should’ve run. You should’ve screamed. You should’ve hated him.

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

And worse—you cared.

You were so fucking soft, always checking on him, always offering little smiles like they could melt the darkness inside him. Like you saw something in him worth saving. It pissed him off. It made his skin crawl. It made him want.

Want what? He didn’t know.

At least��� he didn’t at first.

The more time he spent with you, the harder it became to ignore. The way his eyes always found you first. The way his chest felt tight whenever you strayed too far from his side. The way his fingers twitched, itching to grab your hand again, to feel your warmth, to make sure you were real.

And god, the way you smiled.

That was the worst part. The way you smiled at him like he was worth something. Like he wasn’t a monster. He hated it. He needed it.

Every time you looked at him like that, something inside him cracked open, raw and bleeding. It felt like standing too close to a fire, the heat licking at his skin, burning through his defenses. He wanted to shove you away. He wanted to pull you closer. He wanted to tear himself open and shove every ugly, broken part of himself into your hands just to see if you’d still smile at him.

He hated you for it.

No—not you. Never you.

He hated himself.

Because Niragi was selfish. He knew that. He’d always been selfish. He took what he wanted, consequences be damned. And right now? He wanted you.

But he didn’t deserve you.

He knew that too.

It didn’t stop him from watching you, his dark eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the soft sway of your hips, the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders with every breath. You moved like you didn’t belong here, light and soft, like the darkness couldn’t touch you. Like he couldn’t touch you.

And maybe he shouldn’t.

But god, he wanted to.

He wanted to grab you, to press you up against the nearest wall and feel you breathe beneath him. To drag his hands over every soft inch of you and burn the memory of your warmth into his skin. To hold you close, closer than anyone ever had, and never let go.

But more than that…

He wanted to keep you safe.

That was the part that scared him the most.

Because Niragi didn’t care about people. People were weak. People were selfish. People betrayed you the second you let your guard down. That was the first lesson the world taught him—the only lesson that mattered.

But you weren’t like them.

You were soft. And sweet. And you cared. About him. About Chishiya. About people who didn’t deserve it. People who would break you if you let them.

And Niragi hated the idea of anyone breaking you.

Anyone but him.

He clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his rifle. His gaze burned into the back of your head as you walked ahead of him, still holding his hand, practically dragging him along, your soft hum drifting back on the breeze. Chishiya was still ahead, quiet and distant, always watching. Always judging. Niragi sneered. Fucking bastard. Always acting like he was better than everyone else.

But even Chishiya wasn’t immune to you. Niragi saw the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his posture softened ever so slightly whenever you smiled at him. It made Niragi’s blood boil. Not because Chishiya cared. No—Niragi didn’t give a fuck about that.

What pissed him off was that Chishiya let you get close.

Because the second you got close? That was when you got hurt.

And Niragi… he wasn’t sure what he’d do if someone hurt you.

No. That wasn’t true. He knew exactly what he’d do.

He’d kill them. Slowly. Painfully. And he’d enjoy every second of it.

Because Niragi was a monster.

But even monsters could love.

His fingers curled tighter around yours, his grip almost too firm. You didn’t pull away—you never did—but your thumb brushed softly over his knuckles, easing the tension. It was a soft, absentminded thing. Maybe you didn’t even realize you were doing it. But he did.

He noticed everything about you.

The softness of your skin against his, delicate and smooth, like you’d never had to fight for your life. The way your pinky finger rested against his, warm and gentle, like you belonged there. The faint scent of whatever soap you had at the apartment, sweet and floral, clinging to you even now.

It made his chest ache.

Niragi kept his eyes straight ahead, scowling into the darkness, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened every time you squeezed his hand. The street stretched out before you, cracked and quiet.

All Niragi could feel was you.

It was stupid. He’d touched you before. A lot, actually. We know that. You were soft like that—always reaching for him, always offering your warmth without a second thought. It made his skin itch, made his heart pound, made him want to rip himself open just to see if he was even capable of feeling anything good anymore.

But tonight felt different.

Maybe it was the quiet. Or the darkness. Or the fact that you’d almost passed out earlier, too dizzy and tired to keep going, your body finally giving out after god knows how long without eating. He’d never admit it—not even to himself—but it had scared the shit out of him.

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to break.

But you did.

And Niragi realized something, walking there watching you sway on your feet, eyes fluttering closed while you clutched at your stupid little pink bag.

He cared.

Not just about keeping you alive. Not just about having you close.

He cared about you.

The thought made him feel sick.

Because Niragi didn’t care about people. They used you, then threw you away the second you stopped being useful. That was the first thing he learned growing up—the first thing that shaped him into the man he was now. He’d been nothing to everyone his whole life, and when the Borderlands came, it finally gave him permission to be the monster they always said he was.

But you…

You made him want to be something else.

He glanced down at your hands, the way your fingers tangled with his, soft and trusting, like he wasn’t capable of snapping them in half with a single squeeze.

God, you were so fucking stupid.

But he liked it.

He liked the way you hummed softly under your breath when the silence stretched too long, a quiet little melody that barely reached his ears. He liked the way you squeezed his hand when the darkness pressed in too tightly, as if he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the world. He liked the way you smiled at him, soft and patient, like you weren’t terrified of what he might do.

And fuck, maybe the worst part was that you weren’t scared.

Not of him. Not really.

You’d seen him kill. You’d seen him laugh while the blood pooled beneath his feet. You’d seen the worst parts of him, and still—still—you reached for him. You forgave him.

Why?

What the fuck did you see in him?

Niragi clenched his jaw, his free hand tightening around his rifle. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He was a killer. A monster. The kind of man who burned things down just to watch the flames. He’d taken lives. He’d laughed while people screamed. He’d reveled in the chaos and destruction of it all.

But here you were.

Holding his hand.

Soft. Gentle. Kind. Everything he wasn’t.

Everything he wanted.

His fingers squeezed yours tighter, almost desperate, like he could hold onto this feeling—hold onto you—and never let go. You didn’t pull away. You just squeezed back, your thumb brushing over his skin again, soft and patient. Like you were telling him it was okay.

Niragi felt something crack inside him.

It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there. A tiny sliver of warmth, burning beneath his ribs, curling around his heart. It was uncomfortable. It was terrifying. It was everything.

And for the first time in his miserable fucking life, Niragi realized he wasn’t scared of dying.

He was scared of losing you.

His grip on your hand tightened, almost bruising, but you didn’t flinch. You just turned to him, eyes soft, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. “Still okay?” you asked softly.

Niragi stared at you.

No. He wasn’t okay. He was fucking falling apart.

But he just scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You ask too many questions.”

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand again. “You never answer them.”

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But still, he held your hand a little tighter.

It was nothing.

It had to be.

Niragi told himself that over and over again, the words pounding in his skull like a drum. It was fucking nothing. You were just soft. Soft people did soft things. That’s all it was.

It was nothing when you brushed the hair from his face back at the apartment, your fingertips gliding over his skin like he wasn’t a fucking monster.

It was nothing when you tied his hair up for him, gentle and patient, your fingers carding through the strands like you actually gave a shit.

It was nothing when you sat close to him on the couch, your shoulder pressed against his, your warmth bleeding into him.

It was nothing when you leaned your head on his shoulder, soft and sleepy, like he was something safe.

It was nothing when you pressed your little pink bag into his chest some of these days and asked him to hold it while you fixed your shoes. When you giggled because it looked ridiculous, this big, dangerous man holding your delicate little things. When you thanked him after, like it actually meant something.

It was nothing when you cried after he killed that man and still let him wipe your tears away. When you leaned into him, small and shaking, while he whispered quiet, cruel things into your ear, his hand stroking your hair. When you let him carry you after, your soft little body in his arms, trusting him not to drop you, not to hurt you.

It was nothing when you slept in his arms, soft breaths ghosting over his neck, your fingers curling into his shirt. When he stayed awake the whole night, walking, then sitting down, feeling the rise and fall of your body with every breath.

It was nothing when you turned to him just now, holding out your hand, soft and open, and waited for him to take it. When you squeezed his fingers and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world. When you asked if he was okay, like you actually cared.

It was nothing.

But then why did it feel like he was fucking burning?

Niragi’s grip on your hand tightened, his nails digging into your skin. You winced slightly but didn’t pull away. Of course you didn’t. You never did.

You were so fucking stupid.

Didn’t you know what he was?

Didn’t you understand what he could do to you?

He could crush your hand in his, snap your fingers one by one just to hear you scream. He could shove you against the nearest wall, pin you there, and take whatever softness you kept offering him, whether you wanted to give it or not. He could kill you. Right here. Right now. Just because he could.

But he wouldn’t.

Because you’d ruined him.

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth so hard his head ached. His heart pounded in his chest, heavy and loud, drowning out everything but the sound of your soft breaths. His skin burned where you touched him, his body screaming for more. More of your warmth. More of your softness. More of you.

He hated it.

He hated you.

He hated himself more.

Because he wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to care. This world didn’t have room for feelings. Feelings made you weak. Attachments got you killed. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago, and he’d thrived on it. He’d burned every soft part of himself down to ash, replaced it with violence and cruelty and fire.

But you…

You made him want to feel.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath ragged, trying to shove the feeling down. Trying to drown it in the darkness. But it clawed its way back up, sharp and relentless, cutting through him like a fucking knife.

Because the truth was, he wanted you.

He wanted to feel your soft hands on his skin. He wanted to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. He wanted to hear you say his name—soft and sweet, like a prayer—while he carved himself into every inch of you.

But more than that…

He wanted to keep you.

Niragi didn’t know how to love. All he knew was how to take. How to destroy. How to burn everything he touched to the ground.

And if he kept you… if he let himself have you…

He would ruin you.

Just like he ruined everything else.

Still, he held your hand a little tighter.

And you let him.

It wasn’t enough.

Your hand in his—soft, small, trusting—it wasn’t fucking enough.

Niragi’s grip tightened, his nails biting into your skin, but you didn’t pull away. You never did. You just kept walking, soft little fingers tangled with his, humming some quiet song under your breath. Like you weren’t walking beside someone who’d killed for less than a wrong look.

Like you weren’t inches away from being ripped apart.

Because that’s what he wanted to do.

Tear you open. Rip you apart. Crawl inside and make a home of you.

His blood burned hot beneath his skin, boiling over into something dark and messy, something he could barely choke down. He was never good at choking things down—never good at holding himself back. Not when he wanted something. Not when it burned through him like this, heavy and suffocating, curling around his throat and squeezing until he could barely fucking breathe.

And god, he wanted you.

He wanted you soft and begging underneath him. Wanted to bruise your sweet little skin with his teeth, his fingers, his everything. He wanted to shove you against the nearest wall and make you feel every inch of him, wanted to hear you gasp and whimper and cry for him. He wanted to ruin you.

But it wasn’t just that.

That was the problem.

If it was only that, he could handle it. He could fuck you and forget you, break you open and leave you behind like he had with every other fragile little thing that crossed his path. He could burn through you and walk away without a second thought.

But this? This was worse.

Because he didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to keep you.

He wanted to shove you behind him whenever danger came too close. Wanted to feel your soft little fingers in his hair, tying it back like you did that day in the apartment, soft and patient, like you actually liked taking care of him. Wanted to wrap his arms around you at night and feel your heartbeat against his chest, soft and steady, reminding him that you were still alive.

He wanted to be the only one who got to see you like this—soft and sweet and trusting. He wanted to be the only one you reached for when the darkness pressed in too close. The only one who got to hear your little giggles, your quiet hums, your soft breaths in the dead of night.

He wanted to lock you away. Keep you hidden. Protected. Safe.

His.

His jaw clenched, his body tight with something dark and ugly. He shouldn’t feel like this. He shouldn’t want like this. It wasn’t normal. Wasn’t right.

But Niragi had never been normal. And he sure as hell had never been right.

He was ruined. Rotten. A monster dressed in human skin.

And you… you were an angel.

Soft and sweet and his. Even if you didn’t know it yet. Even if you never would.

He squeezed your hand, dragging you closer, and you stumbled slightly, looking up at him with wide, questioning eyes. He ignored you, his jaw tight, his heart pounding in his chest, heavy and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

You should run.

You should be scared.

You should have never reached for him in the first place.

But you didn’t run. You didn’t pull away. You just squeezed his hand back, soft and patient, like you were comforting him.

And god, that was the worst part.

Because Niragi didn’t deserve comfort. Didn’t deserve kindness. Didn’t deserve you.

But that didn’t mean he was going to let you go.

No.

You were his now.

And he’d burn the whole fucking world down to keep you.

Your yawn was soft. Barely more than a little breath, muffled against the back of your hand. But Niragi heard it. Of course, he heard it. He heard everything when it came to you. The soft scuff of your shoes against the pavement. The quiet little hum you made when you stretched. The gentle sigh that slipped from your lips when you looked up at the stars, eyes soft and distant, as if the sky held some kind of answer you were searching for.

It made him sick.

You yawned again, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, soft and sleepy. Then you turned to him, blinking slowly, your lips parted, voice soft and sweet. “Aren’t you tired?” you asked quietly, concern flickering across your face. “You’ve been walking all day… maybe we should stop soon.”

You were worried about him.

Him.

Niragi swallowed thickly, his throat tight. His fingers curled tighter around yours, his breath ragged, his body taut like a live wire.

Tired?

No. He wasn’t fucking tired. How could he be tired when you looked at him like that? When you spoke to him like that? When you touched him like this, soft and trusting, like you didn’t know you were dancing with a monster?

Tired?

No. He was burning.

He wanted to shove you up against something and watch the fear bloom in your eyes. Wanted to press his body against yours, trap you there, feel every soft inch of you against him. He wanted to hear you gasp—soft and breathless—as he dragged his teeth along your throat. Wanted to feel your pulse flutter against his tongue. Wanted to mark you. Bruise you. Own you.

He wanted to rip that stupid little pink bag from your hands and watch it fall to the ground, forgotten. Wanted to slip his fingers into your hair, tugging hard, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to look at him. No choice but to see him. To see what you’d done to him.

He wanted to feel your breath hitch when he leaned in, close enough to taste you. Wanted to feel the way your body trembled beneath his touch—whether from fear or something darker, he didn’t fucking care. He wanted to drag his tongue over your pulse, slow and deliberate, feeling the way it pounded beneath your skin. He wanted to sink his teeth into your throat, hard enough to make you cry out.

He wanted to tear you apart.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Piece by fucking piece.

But more than that…

He wanted to hold you after. Wanted to feel the weight of you in his arms, soft and spent, trusting him to keep you safe. He wanted to run his fingers through your hair, soft and slow, while you drifted off against him. Wanted to feel your breath against his skin, soft and steady, a quiet reminder that you were still alive. Still his.

He wanted to keep you.

Niragi didn’t keep things. Niragi destroyed things. He burned them down. Tore them apart. Left them broken and bleeding in his wake.

But you…

You just looked up at him, soft and trusting, your eyes gentle, your lips parted. “Niragi?” you asked softly. “Are you okay?”

He laughed.

Low. Bitter. Broken.

No. He wasn’t okay. He was fucking ruined.

“Fine.”

You just squeezed his hand again, soft and patient, and kept walking.

Niragi let you.

It hit him like a bullet to the chest.

He wanted you.

Not in the fleeting, careless way he’d wanted things before—not like a cigarette between his lips, burned down to the filter and flicked away without a second thought. Not like the random girls at the Beach, faceless and nameless, used to fill the void for a few desperate moments before he shoved them off and left them behind.

No. This was different. This was worse.

He wanted you in a way that scraped at the inside of his skull and twisted something dark and ugly in his chest. It made his skin feel too tight, his throat dry, his body heavy with a need he couldn’t even begin to name.

He wanted you. So fucking bad.

He wanted to wrap his hands around your waist and pull you close, feel the soft press of your body against his. Wanted to bury his face in your neck, breathe you in, drown himself in your warmth until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

He wanted to pin you beneath him, feel you squirm, hear you whimper his name in that soft little voice of yours. Wanted to drag his teeth over your skin, taste you, mark you, ruin you. Wanted to see you fall apart under his hands, wanted to watch the way your body trembled for him, wanted to hear the sweet little sounds you’d make when he finally, finally took you.

But it wasn’t just that.

That would have been easy. That he could handle.

What made it worse—what made it unbearable—was that he wanted more.

He wanted you pressed up against his side, soft and sleepy, your head resting on his chest while his fingers tangled lazily in your hair. Wanted to hear your quiet breaths, steady and soft, lulling him to sleep. Wanted to wake up with you curled against him, your body warm and soft and his.

He wanted to hear you laugh. Wanted to see the way your nose scrunched up when you smiled, wanted to be the reason for it. Wanted to hear you say his name—not in fear, not in pain, but soft and gentle, like a secret just for him.

He wanted to protect you. Keep you safe. Keep you his.

The realization made his stomach twist, his jaw clenching so tight it ached. His hand tightened around yours, but you didn’t flinch.

You shouldn’t be anywhere near him. He was a fucking monster. A killer. A creature made of violence and rage and blood. He’d burned away every soft part of himself a long time ago, torn out anything that even resembled kindness and left it to rot in the dirt.

But then you came along.

Soft and sweet.

You smiled at him. Talked to him. Touched him.

You held his hand like it meant something.

He fucking liked it.

It made him want things. Soft things. Stupid things. Impossible things.

It made him want you. Want want you.

His grip on your hand tightened, almost painful now, but you just squeezed his fingers softly, your warmth bleeding into his skin.

He wasn’t okay. He was fucked. Completely, utterly fucked.

Because he wanted you.

More than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire goddamn life.

And he was going to have you.

One way or another.

~

Acceptance came easy to Niragi.

Why wouldn’t it?

He wanted you. He accepted it.

There. Simple. Done.

What was the point in denying it? In pretending he didn’t want to sink his teeth into your soft little neck, mark you up, make sure every inch of you knew you were his? What was the point in fighting the way his fingers twitched with the urge to brush the hair from your face, the way his chest burned whenever you looked at him like he wasn’t a fucking monster?

No. Niragi never ran from what he wanted. He took it. Claimed it. Burned everything down until it was his and only his.

So yeah, he accepted it.

He wanted you. Badly. Madly. Completely.

And now, as you walked beside him, your small hand curled in his like it belonged there, your head drooping a little with exhaustion after walking all night, Niragi didn’t even hesitate.

The whistle ripped from his lips—sharp and loud, echoing off the empty buildings around you—and Chishiya’s steps slowed ahead of you, his shoulders tensing. He turned, shooting Niragi a flat, unimpressed look.

Niragi grinned. God, he lived to piss that little bastard off.

“What?” Chishiya drawled, voice dry, bored, already annoyed.

Niragi tugged on your hand, pulling you gently toward the curb. “She needs to sit.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “I’m fine—”

“Sit.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument, and your eyes softened at the sound of it. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the curb, pulling your pink bag into your lap, and Niragi crouched beside you, his long legs folding easily, his arm resting over his knee.

Chishiya stared at the two of you, his expression unreadable, his gaze flickering briefly to you before landing back on Niragi. “Oh? Since when do you care?”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Since it’s my fucking problem if she collapses, genius.”

Chishiya scoffed softly, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing. “She wouldn’t be collapsing if you let her sleep.”

“And she wouldn’t be alive if I wasn’t around to keep her safe.” Niragi shot back. “So how about you shut the fuck up and let me handle it?”

Chishiya stared at him for a long moment, the air tense, electric, and Niragi could see it—the irritation bubbling just beneath Chishiya’s calm facade. It made his blood sing.

But then Chishiya’s gaze flickered back to you, soft and sweet, curled up on the curb, your head resting against your knees, your eyes half-closed with exhaustion, and something flickered behind his eyes. Something dark. Something possessive.

Niragi’s grin slipped.

That was his look.

His hand twitched, fingers curling into a fist. He wanted to grab Chishiya by the throat, slam him into the pavement, tear that bored little smirk off his face. He wanted to make sure Chishiya never looked at you like that again.

But then you sighed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder, your warmth seeping into his skin, and just like that, the rage melted away.

He glanced down at you, his breath catching in his throat. God, you were so fucking soft. So warm. It made something inside him twist, tight and painful, burning hot.

Chishiya could watch all he wanted. It didn’t fucking matter.

Because you were here. With him.

And Niragi would tear the whole fucking world apart before he ever let that change.

He was not scared.

No. Absolutely not. Scared was for weaklings. For soft, pathetic little things that cowered in the corner and hoped the world would spare them. Niragi wasn’t scared. Niragi made people scared. He was the monster in the dark, the gun against your skull, the last laugh you’d ever hear before the world went black. He wasn’t scared. He didn’t get scared.

Except… well.

Okay, maybe there was this one thing. One teeny, tiny thing. And by thing, he meant you.

But that didn’t count. That was different.

He just… He didn’t want to fuck it up, okay? That’s all. No big deal.

You were warm. Soft. Sweet. Everything he’d never had. And now you were here, sitting next to him, leaning your tired little head against his shoulder, trusting him like he was something good—and for once in his miserable fucking life, he had something to lose.

And that? Yeah. That made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t want to think about.

So no, he wasn’t scared. He was just… cautious. Smart. Calculating. Yeah. That.

Because what if you said no? What if you looked up at him with those soft eyes of yours, and there was fear there? Or worse—pity. Like you felt sorry for him. As if he was some kind of pathetic little stray you’d picked up off the street. As if the twisted, ugly thing inside him could be fixed.

And what the hell would he do then?

Niragi tightened his grip on his knees, his jaw clenching. No. No way. He wasn’t scared. He just wasn’t a fucking idiot. That was all. He’d bide his time. Play it smart. No need to rush. You were already here.

Meanwhile, Chishiya—fucking Chishiya—just stood there. Staring. Like the smug little bastard he was.

Oh, Niragi knew Chishiya was watching him. Always watching. Niragi could practically feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. And sure, it could’ve been another one of Niragi’s little mood swings—god knew he had plenty of those—but no. This was different. Chishiya knew better.

Chishiya was smart. Annoyingly smart. The kind of smart that made Niragi want to bash his head in with the nearest blunt object. And right now, Niragi could practically hear the little gears turning in that pretty head of his. Trying to figure him out.

Yeah, good luck with that, asshole.

Chishiya shifted slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking between the two of you. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Niragi could feel the judgment radiating off him in waves.

If Niragi had a bullet, it’d be in Chishiya’s head right about now.

Yeah, the asshole wasted all of them.

But you? Oh, you had no idea.

You just sat there, half-dead, blinking sleepily at the empty street like the world’s saddest little creature. Niragi glanced down at you, his scowl softening. Christ. You looked pathetic. And adorable. And pathetic. Like a wet kitten that had been left out in the rain. All droopy eyes and soft little sighs.

Niragi shifted slightly, his arm pressing against yours. You didn’t even react. Just blinked slowly, like you were seconds from passing out, your pink bag clutched tightly in your lap. God, you were so fucking cute it made him sick.

“You okay?��� Niragi asked, his voice low and rough.

You blinked up at him, your eyes glassy with exhaustion. “Mm. Yeah. Just… tired.” You yawned, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Bleh.”

Bleh.

Niragi almost laughed. Jesus. You were ridiculous.

But then you shifted closer, rubbing your head against his shoulder, Niragi felt his chest tighten. Slowly, carefully, he turned his head, resting his chin against the top of your head. You didn’t pull away. You never pulled away.

And that? That was almost worse than if you did.

Because it made him want. God, he wanted. Wanted to pull you into his lap and hold you there, feel every soft inch of you pressed against him. Wanted to bury his face in your hair and just… breathe. Wanted to tell you that you were his. That he’d kill for you. Burn the whole fucking world down for you.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he just sat there. Quiet. Still. His arm brushing against yours, his fingers curling into his palm, his breath slow and steady.

And Chishiya? Oh, Chishiya saw everything.

Niragi could feel his gaze. But Chishiya didn’t say a word. Just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Judging.

Niragi squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw tight, his heart pounding in his chest.

Not scared. Not scared. Not scared.

Just… waiting.

Because eventually, you’d see.

Eventually, you’d understand.

You were his.

And one way or another… he was going to make sure you never forgot it.

But the pavement was cold. Not that you minded much. It was kind of nice, actually. Cool against your legs, the rough texture digging into your skin through the fabric of your pants.

You blinked slowly, your eyes half-lidded, watching the empty street in front of you. The buildings stretched up into the sky, dark and quiet, their windows hollow and empty. Everything felt still. Silent. Like the world was holding its breath.

You sighed, your head tipping slightly forward, not partly resting on Niragi’s collarbone, too. He was warm. Really warm. Almost too warm, but you didn’t care. You leaned into him, your body soft and pliant, your eyelids fluttering shut for a moment before you forced them open again.

“How come we’re not there yet?” you mumbled, your voice soft and slurred, like you were half-asleep. “Shouldn’t we be there by now?”

Niragi shifted beside you, his body tensing slightly, but you barely noticed.

“We’ll get there when we get there.” he muttered, his voice low.

You blinked slowly, trying to process that. It felt like you’d been walking forever. Was the Beach even real? Or was it just some stupid dream? Some distant promise you’d all made up to keep yourselves moving?

You sighed again, your fingers curling into the fabric of your bag, holding it tightly against your chest. Your whole body ached, your legs heavy and sluggish, your eyes burning with exhaustion.

You just wanted to sleep. Right here. On the cold pavement. It wouldn’t be so bad.

Chishiya stood a few steps away, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched you quietly, his eyes flickering between you and Niragi, taking in the way you leaned against him, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the slow, steady blinks that meant you were seconds away from passing out.

“We should stop for the night.” Chishiya said softly. “She’s tired.”

Niragi scoffed. “No shit, genius.” His arm shifted slightly, pressing against yours. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’m not fine.” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired.”

Niragi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’ll live.”

You pouted, your brow furrowing. “But I’m tired.”

Niragi rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it. You were already slipping further into sleep, your body growing heavier, your head resting more firmly against his shoulder.

Chishiya could see the way Niragi’s jaw clenched, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you, the way his body tensed every time you shifted against him.

“Just let her sleep.” Chishiya said quietly.

Niragi scowled. “Mind your own business.”

Chishiya raised a brow, but said nothing.

The silence stretched out, heavy and tense, the only sound your soft, steady breaths.

“Fine.” Niragi muttered. “We’ll stay.”

Chishiya smirked. “Good choice.”

Niragi glared at him, but said nothing.

Instead, he shifted slightly, pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, holding you against him.

Niragi hated him.

God, he fucking hated him.

Every little thing about Chishiya made his skin crawl. The way he stood there, all quiet and smug, like he had it all figured out. Like he was some fuckass puppet master, sitting back and watching while everyone danced on his little strings. It made Niragi’s fingers itch for the rifle next to him on the ground. It made him want to hurt something.

But the worst part? The thing that really twisted the knife?

It was the way you looked at him.

Even now—half-asleep, head resting against Niragi’s shoulder, body soft in his arms—you still glanced at Chishiya. Still checked for him. Niragi could see it in the soft flutter of your lashes, the subtle tilt of your head, the way your gaze flicked over to that quiet fucker.

And Chishiya? Oh, he saw it too.

That was the thing about Chishiya. He didn’t have to say a damn word, and Niragi could still hear the condescension, loud and clear. It was in the slight raise of his brow, the curve of his lips—just shy of a smirk. Like he knew exactly what Niragi was thinking. Like he knew exactly what Niragi wanted.

Because of course he fucking did. Chishiya was smart. Too smart. He saw everything. Saw the way Niragi’s grip on you tightened, the way his thumb brushed slowly over your arm, the way his body angled towards yours, like you were something to be shielded.

Chishiya wasn’t threatened.

He didn’t need to be.

It drove Niragi insane.

And what drove him even more insane was the fact that you never seemed to notice.

You sat there, pressed against Niragi’s side, your body soft and sweet and warm, and Niragi wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let go.

But that wasn’t all he wanted. No. Niragi was twisted. Fucked up beyond repair. He wanted to mark you. Ruin you. Make sure that every time you closed your eyes, it was him you saw. Not Chishiya. Not anyone else. Just him.

And yet—for all his fire, for all his rage—he still held back.

Because for the first time in his miserable fucking life… he was afraid.

Not that he’d ever admit it. Not even to himself. But it was there, festering in the pit of his stomach. The fear that if he pushed too hard, too fast, you’d slip through his fingers. That you’d look at him the way everyone else did. With fear. With disgust.

So instead, he just sat there. Silent. Tense. His arm wrapped around you, holding you close, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Chishiya understood.

No, he didn’t want to understand. He wasn’t supposed to care about things like this. Not anymore.

But then you showed up.

Soft. Sweet. Open. An anomaly in this fucked up world. And somehow, without even trying, you wormed your way under his skin.

You were quiet. Gentle. So goddamn kind it made his teeth ache. And Chishiya hated himself for it, but there were nights—long, sleepless nights—where he’d lie awake and wonder what it would be like to touch you. To have your hands on him, soft and warm, tracing over the angles of his ribs. To feel you curl against his side, sleepy and trusting. To have you.

And Niragi? Niragi wanted the same thing.

That’s what made Chishiya’s blood boil. Not that Niragi wanted you. But that Niragi got to hold you. That Niragi got to touch you. While Chishiya stood there, silent and still, watching from the shadows.

He could see it, clear as day. The way Niragi looked at you. Like you were something holy. Something to be worshiped. Something to be owned.

Chishiya wanted to tear his fucking throat out.

But he didn’t. He just stood there, arms crossed, gaze flicking between the two of you.

Because that was the difference between them.

Niragi burned hot. Chishiya stayed cold.

But they both wanted you.

(AN: Listening to The Red Means I Love You while writing the part where Niragi holds ur hand is an otherworldly experience I’m FLOATING) (Next song on the playlist, ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIIIIS) (writing these as I’m writing the story itself, I’ll put it at the end of the post later) (ily) (the playlist I have for the fic is insane)

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina @cherryyserenade @l5byrinth

[anakinca]

CLAYTON BERESFORD sitting in Victoria secret changing room, watching us put a lingerie on we chose (but he's not looking with lust but more in admiration and true, pure love cus I'm tired of ppl chosing lust over pure feelings) and helps us with the corset and he's just can't help himself and kisses our exposed back and shoulder :((((

—❝endlessly tender❞

clayton beresford x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; kay so bunny i was literally prancing around my room when i got this cause my LORD it lowkey saved me from my horrible writers block 😭😭 BUT YAH I HAD A LOT OF FUN MAKING THIS SOOOO ENJOY, ANGELS <33

THE LIGHTING IN THE VICTORIA’S SECRET CHANGING ROOM WAS SOFT AND WARM. It casted a gentle glow over the blush-pink walls and mirrored surfaces. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and roses, and the world outside the door seemed to blur into insignificance.

Clayton sat on the plush velvet sofa in the corner of the small room, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his posture relaxed but his gaze attentive. He—being the businessman he is—negotiated with the saleslady at the front desk to let you two have the changing room to yourselves for only an hour.

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of the lingerie set you’d chosen. The soft lace hugged your body, the light catching on the intricate patterns as you turned slightly to examine yourself. Behind you, Clayton sat quietly, his hands resting in his lap, his head tilted ever so slightly as he watched you.

But it wasn’t a watchful gaze born of lust or desire—it was something far deeper, far gentler. His blue eyes glimmered with admiration, and the faintest of smiles tugged at his lips as if he were seeing a masterpiece come to life.

“Clay,” you murmured a little teasingly, turning to look at him over your shoulder, your cheeks warming under the weight of his soft, unwavering gaze. “You’re staring.” You giggled, your lips curving up.

“I know,” he replied simply, his voice low and warm, like a comforting embrace. “I can’t help it. You’re…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if searching for the right words. “You’re breathtaking.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your heart bloomed at his words. “It’s just a corset. Nothing groundbreaking.”

“Not to me,” he said softly, standing up and stepping toward you. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second.

You turned back toward the mirror, tugging at one of the laces of the corset, but your fingers fumbled. Before you could try again, you felt his hands gently brush yours aside. “Let me,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His fingers worked carefully, tugging the ribbons into place and fastening them with precision, his touch warm and steady against your skin. The moment felt so intimate, so tender, that you barely dared to breathe. His presence was grounding, his every move filled with a quiet reverence that made you feel cherished in a way words could never express.

When he finished, his hands lingered for a moment, his fingertips brushing lightly over the exposed skin of your back. You looked up at him through the mirror, your gaze meeting his, and the softness in his eyes made your heart ache.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He then leaned down, pressing a featherlight kiss to your bare shoulder. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, and when he shifted slightly to kiss the curve of your back, your breath hitched. There was nothing urgent about his actions—just love, unfiltered and pure, poured into every soft touch and lingering glance.

You turned around to face him, and his hands instinctively rested on your waist. “Clay,” you whispered, your voice trembling just enough to betray how deeply he’d affected you.

He smiled, that soft, boyish smile that never failed to make your heart flutter. “I’m sorry,” he said, though there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his tone. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Your hands found their way to his face, your fingers brushing against his jawline as you looked up at him. “Don’t apologize,” you said, your voice just as soft. “I love you for it.”

His eyes softened further, and for a moment, he just looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at. Then, slowly, he leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you as though he wanted to shield you from the world.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

The words settled between you, warm and gentle, and you smiled, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “And you’re everything to me, Clayton.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. The lace and silk, the blush-pink walls, even the mirrored reflections—all of it was secondary to the warmth and love that radiated between you.

In his arms, you felt beautiful, adored, and utterly safe. In that quiet little room, under the soft glow of the lights, you knew without a doubt that this kind of love—pure, unwavering, and endlessly tender—was the rarest and most precious thing in the galaxy.

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer once more, you realized there was nowhere else in the universe you’d rather be.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

[selfloverrrrrr]

hey bae , this is my first time making a req 😭🙏🏻 , so i was thinking about where y/n is a prisoner sent to an all male prison and geto/gojo is the chief security guard who works there. he is very attracted to y/n and at night he goes non con y/n

i love your fanfic btw ❤️

Prisoner~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, Noncon, revenge, prisoner reader, chief secretary guard Gojo, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

This shitty people can't even investigate a case properly. First they put me in for the time crime I never did and now they're moving me to another jail?! The iron gates of Blackwood Prison creaked shut behind me, I found myself enveloped in a world dominated by rough faces and even rougher hands. I was the only woman among hundreds of convicts, a fact that made me stand out like a sore thumb.

The first few days were a blur of harsh fluorescent lights, cold meals, and the constant hum of male voices echoing through the concrete hallways. I kept my head down, learning the routines quickly - lights out at 10 PM sharp, wake-up call at 6 AM.

One evening, during dinner in the massive cafeteria, I felt eyes burning into my back. I turned slightly to see one of the guards standing against the wall. His name tag said 'Gojo'. He was tall, muscular, with an aura that demanded attention. His blue eyes seemed to follow my every movement.

As the days wore on, I started noticing Gojo everywhere. He seemed assigned to my wing more frequently than the other guards. Each time our paths crossed, his gaze lingered, a flicker of something - admiration? - passing through his steely expression before he quickly looked away.

One crisp autumn night, as the prison settled into uneasy quiet, I lay on my narrow bunk, straining to hear the faint scrape of metal against metal. Suddenly, my cell door clicked open. Gojo stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, his muscular frame filling the doorway.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. His boots echoed on the cold floor as he approached my bunk. He didn't say a word, just reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him.

"what are you doing?! why are you even here?!" I asked being shocked. Gojo smirked. His grip tightened. "Easy," he said softly, his voice low and urgent. "Thought you might need...company. It's tough being the only woman here"

"what do you mean?" I asked."You know exactly what I mean," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His hand moved to my waist possessively. "Being surrounded by all these hungry eyes...you must be tired of the constant stares, the unwanted attention." He paused, his thumb tracing circles on my hipbone. "I could..."

"I could make them all disappear," Gojo murmured, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You'd be mine, and only mine. No one else would dare to look at you, let alone touch you." He desperately whispered in my ear.

"y-you should go" I said. "Should I?" Gojo chuckled. And I didn't notice when his fingers start to unbuckle my belt. "You really want me to leave you here all alone, with those little shits inmate dreaming about getting their hands on you?" He paused, his hands pausing at the button of my pants.

"w-what are you doing w-wai-" I finally realised but Gojo cut me off with a firm kiss, his lips crashing against mine. He pinned me against the bunk, his hands roaming over my body as he effortlessly pushed my pants down. I was about to protest when "Shh," he murmured against my lips. "Just let me take care of you tonight."

"N-No....leave or I'll tell the other officers" I said. Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Go ahead," he said confidently, his hand sliding into my underwear. "Who do you think they'll believe? The quiet little prisoner or the chief security guard?" He started to caress me slowly.

And I couldn't reply. I was silent. "Exactly," Gojo whispered, his fingers exploring further as he hooked his legs around mine to keep me from kicking him off. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet," he warned, his other hand reaching up to cover my mouth. "Or I'll have to gag you..."

"please leave me I don't want this." I begged. Gojo's smirk widened. "Too good for a criminal's touch?" He pulled his hands away suddenly, his voice harsh. "Maybe I should make you scream instead. Give the guys out there what they've all been dreaming of." He unbuckled his belt threateningly. "Answer me honestly - do you want this or not?"

"I don't.... P-Please" I said. His expression softened slightly at the plea, but his hand remained on his belt. "You're making the wrong choice," he said softly, leaning in close. "You don't know those men they're ready to get their hands on you any time they want. Just for pleasure" His fingers traced my neck possessively. "I don't want you just for pleasure.... I want you permanently....all mine" he whispered.

Fear grabbed me by my neck. I couldn't even think anything when suddenly he kissed me again. He deepened the kiss forcefully, his tongue invading my mouth as he pressed his body against mine. His hands released my wrists to roam my body again, gripping and squeezing roughly. He only broke the kiss to start unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other still holding my head in place.

he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Gojo leaned down to capture my mouth again, his bare chest pressing against mine as he pinned me beneath him. His calloused hands explored my body roughly, leaving red marks in their wake. He broke the kiss again to nip and suck at my neck, marking me possessively.

Then he tore off my shirt. I wasn't wearing any bra. "You're fucking hotttt," he muttered, eyes darkening as he took in my exposed body. His rough hands traced my curves before moving to my breasts, squeezing and kneading. He lowered his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other.

"P-Please stop" I begged. "Too late for that," Gojo muttered, releasing my nipple with a pop. He raised his head to look at me, taking in my scared expression and half-naked body. He grabbed my pants and pulled it down with my panties. "Spread your legs," he ordered softly, his voice lower than before.

I didn't do anything. I was too scared. Gojo growled in frustration as I refused to comply. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, spread your fucking legs," he repeated, more forcefully this time. With lightning speed, he grabbed both my thighs and forcibly pushed them apart, settling himself between them.

I cried out. He unbuckled his belt and pants with one hand, kicking them off his legs. He was left in just his boxers, the bulge prominent. He hooked his arms under my knees, pulling my legs up and back, exposing me completely.

Gojo shoved his boxers down, freeing his rigid cock. Without hesitation, he thrust forward, brutally piercing into my pussy. He groaned loudly, not caring if the entire jail heard my screams. "Fuck, so tight..." he grunted, starting to pump into me violently.

Gojo reached between my legs to rub my clit roughly, the stimulation making my cries even more desperate. He fucked me mercilessly, his cock pounding into my pussy like a jackhammer.I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He was panting.

He sits on the floor. The sound of his panting filled the room. Suddenly he started laughing. "I've heard you're in jail for a crime you didn't even. And you also don't have any family to help you.... and also I've heard that you are going out of jail this year. Don't worry darling, I know how to make you permanently MINE" He said darkly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[skateordiebitch]

girl i LOVE your fics.. ur such a diva i CANNOT u look so cool?!?! if i may, can i request something like dom x reader that always works late.. so basically by the time dominic is sleeping, reader gets home 😭 hear me out, i’ve had a literal DREAM about this.. like he’s just sleeping while reader comes home + cuddles him while he sleeps, if you get my point :3

i have so many ideas but i dont wanna stress u out at all by adding even more requests and stuff…

CLOSE TO YOU || D.F x reader

summary: dominic sleeps better when you’re next to him.

a/n: OMGGG this is so sweet🥹 and pls send them, i’ll write them eventually! it won’t stress me out :)

writing all of these make me feel so lonely sometimes like goddamn!!!! my turn when?!!!!! hope you guys enjoy, this one’s short but sweet <3

It was well past midnight when you pushed open the front door, careful not to let it creak too loudly. You slipped off your shoes, setting your bag down in its usual spot, and let out a tired sigh.

The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of the nightlight Dominic had insisted on keeping in the hallway—“So you don’t trip over everything when you come in,” he’d said with a teasing grin.

You tiptoed through the quiet space, your heart softening as you approached the bedroom door.

Inside, Dominic was sprawled across the bed, his arm hanging off the edge and his hair sticking up in messy tufts.

He was completely knocked out, his slow, steady breathing filling the room.

The sight made your exhaustion melt away just a little. This was always the part of your day you looked forward to most—coming home to him, even if he was already fast asleep.

You slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, quietly brushing your teeth and washing off the stress of the day.

When you emerged, Dominic hadn’t moved an inch. He was still lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow as if it were you.

As you eased into bed, the mattress dipped slightly under your weight. The familiar warmth of Dominic radiated from where he lay, his face peaceful in the soft glow of the hallway light that filtered through the cracked door.

You moved slowly, careful not to jostle him too much as you slid under the blanket and shifted closer.

His cheek pressed into the pillow, hair messy and sticking up in every direction.

You paused for a moment to take him in, your heart swelling at how endearing he looked when he was like this—unguarded, relaxed, safe.

You reached out tentatively, brushing your fingertips along the bare skin of his arm. He stirred at the touch, his brow twitching in a small frown before it smoothed out again.

You couldn’t resist trailing your hand up to his shoulder, your fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns across his back.

His skin was warm under your touch, and you felt the tension in your own body begin to melt away.

As you inched closer, you tucked yourself into his side, resting your head against his back for a moment, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breath.

He was so warm, and the familiar scent of his cologne lingered faintly on his skin even now. It grounded you, making the day’s stress fade into a distant memory.

Carefully, you slid an arm around his waist, letting it rest just above his hip.

He shifted slightly at the movement, a low hum of approval slipping from his lips as if even in his sleep, he knew it was you.

Encouraged, you snuggled in further, pressing your front against his side. The blanket tangled slightly around your legs, but you didn’t care.

All that mattered was the way Dominic instinctively turned toward you, his body adjusting to accommodate you even while unconscious.

“Hmm,” he mumbled groggily, his voice thick with sleep as he stirred. His hand reached out, fumbling for yours under the covers.

When his fingers found yours, he intertwined them, pulling your hand snug against his chest. “You’re late,” he muttered, barely coherent but clearly teasing.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you nuzzled into his shoulder. “You’re asleep,” you whispered, your voice gentle. “Go back to dreaming, Dom.”

He murmured tiredly, his voice thick with sleep. “You’re home.”

Your heart twisted at the sound. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing lightly over his cheek.

Dominic turned toward you, his eyes barely opening as a small smile curved his lips. “It’s okay. I always sleep better when you’re here.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Go back to sleep, Dom. I’m here now.”

He hummed in contentment, pulling you closer with an arm that felt far stronger than it should have for someone half-asleep. “Long day?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “But it’s better now.”

But instead of answering, he shifted again, this time rolling onto his side to face you. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you in closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

His leg tangled with yours under the blanket, and his nose brushed lightly against your temple.

You snuggled into his warmth, resting your head against his chest where you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The stresses of work, the late nights, the exhaustion—it all felt manageable in moments like this, with Dominic holding you close, even in his dreams.

“Goodnight, loser,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips as you closed your eyes.

Somewhere in his sleep, Dominic mumbled, “Goodnight, idiot,” and it was enough to make you feel whole again.

[sundownpromises]

please don't go (i'll eat you whole) | L.K.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: you make love to leon before he leaves you.

word count: 1,906

warnings/tags: established relationship, smut with feelings, angst, pre-spain or just pre-mission in general, some light fluff if you squint kinda (i'm sorry), p in v sex/penetrative sex, unprotected sex, aftercare

author's note: i'm gonna be honest. i am a little nervous. more so than usual bc this is my first time writing for leon! i love him so much, he's definitely one of my comfort characters, and i wanted to write something angsty but also kinda bittersweet like this for a loooong time and i finally got around to it. i really hope you guys enjoy, comments are always appreciated <3 this has been proofread more than once, but just in case, any and all mistakes are mine! also, just fyi, i wrote this with re4r leon in mind, but you can imagine whichever leon floats your boat if you really want to lol.

p.s. it's not written in here but pls pee after sex 😭

minors do not interact, please and thank you!

You clung to him for dear life; as if he was going to disappear in front of your very eyes.

You were above him, peering down into his deep eyes. His eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure and his lips, which were currently rosy and swollen after the frequent kisses you had given them, were ever so slightly parted as soft groans emerged from his throat. His large hands never stayed still for longer than a minute – he gripped your waist before sliding them down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh before moving them up toward your breasts, squeezing gently, before bringing them back to your waist, where he helped with guiding your languid movements. You moved your hips like an expert, riding him as if you’d never have the chance to again.

With the rain pattering against the window and a sliver of moonlight filtering through the room, it was almost like a scene from an erotic novel. The room carried the scent of sweat and sex and was filled with the noises that spilled from your lips non-stop. You didn’t even know how much time had passed – but you knew it was late. You knew Leon had to be up in the morning. But you wanted to prolong this moment with him for as long as possible. Leon wanted to as well, as every time he got you close to your peak, he slowed down, dragging out your orgasm in a way that was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of it.

You were growing tired, your legs beginning to shake as your rhythm became a bit off-kilter.

“Leon…” You moaned, his name coming out so softly it almost wasn’t audible. But Leon, ever so attentive, heard you loud and clear, and he knew what you were trying to tell him.

He flipped you over with ease, while he was still inside of you, spreading your legs further apart and starting up a steady pace. All you could do was grip the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he drilled into that spot that made you see stars. He wasn’t aggressive or rough, but his thrusts were certainly hard-hitting and relentless, and you knew you only had a few minutes.

At some point, you closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your impending orgasm, feeling as if you were in a complete haze – but Leon’s voice pierced through your foggy mind.

“Please look at me.” He said, his low voice sounding a bit strained and even a little desperate; who were you to deny him of what he wanted?

It took a momentous amount of effort, but eventually you were able to open your eyes and keep them open, looking up at him. Leon lowered himself a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. The slightly different position made his thrusts feel even deeper, and you cried out into his neck, your fingers going into his shaggy blonde hair.

“Keep looking at me. Please.” He said softly, and so you did, maintaining eye contact with him the best you could as he continued to piston his hips into you. Suddenly, Leon was becoming blurry; you could feel the wetness on your face as tears began to fall. Leon often made you cry during sex – he was a fucking god in bed after all and usually made you feel so good that he’d leave you sobbing from the intense pleasure after multiple orgasms. And while that was definitely the reason you were crying now, you also knew that there was an underlying reason for your tears. Leon knew the other reason, too.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He asked you sweetly, still keeping up his quick pace. All you could do was nod fervently, digging your nails into his back. He always loved when you did that.

“Yeah? My sweetheart is gonna cum for me?” He urged, and the pet name that rolled off of his tongue only made matters worse.

“Fuck, Leon–please, give it to me.” You said, your voice trembling. You felt all of the telltale signs. There was a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, ready to pop like a balloon. Leon could sense this, could hear it in your voice and could feel it in the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock. He raised himself just a bit, lowering his hand down between your legs, using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motions while he continued thrusting.

Leon’s name emerged from your throat so loudly that you even drowned out the rain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back rising off the bed in a beautiful arch, your climax hitting you in waves. You felt like you were in heaven, the tears falling even more freely from your eyes now. Leon just ogled at you like you were a work of art. In his mind, you were.

He was also close, and mere seconds after your orgasm his own came crashing down on him too. With a few more sloppy thrusts he found himself stilling inside of you, his release filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so full of him was one that you would never grow tired of.

Eventually, you came down from your peak, your limbs feeling like heavyweights. All you could do was lay there and cry some more, letting every single emotion overtake you completely, your sobs shaking your entire body. Leon was comforting you in an instant, pulling out gently and lying next to you, allowing you to bury your head into his chest. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, with Leon cradling your head and rubbing your back.

You did calm down after some time passed, and that’s when Leon tried to get up, but you clung to him again.

“Please don’t go.” You said, your voice small and hoarse. “Don’t go, Leon, please.”

“I just wanna clean you up, okay?” Leon replied, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You didn’t even care that his cum was leaking out of you and making your thighs a mess – you just wanted him to stay by your side. But you knew he was just trying to take care of you, so you reluctantly released him.

Leon kissed your cheek before getting off the bed and going to the bathroom. While you waited for him, you tried to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to sleep, because falling asleep meant that morning would come quicker, and truthfully you didn’t want the morning to come at all. You knew it would be coming no matter what, though – but goddamn it, you tried to prolong it the best you could, even when your eyelids were growing heavier by the second.

Leon came back, now clothed in his boxers (that you didn’t even notice he had thrown back on), a small washcloth in hand, and a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. He pushed your legs apart yet again and wiped you clean, touching you so gently as if you were some kind of porcelain doll. It only made your heart grow fonder. You were going to miss these moments of tenderness.

He made you sit up, just enough so you could drink the water that he had prepared for you. You took a small sip, to which Leon encouraged you to “drink a bit more, sweetheart,” so you did, and when he was pleased, the glass returned to its spot on the bedside table, and shortly after he was crawling underneath the comforter with you.

The warmth of the comforter and Leon’s body next to yours made it even more difficult for you to stay awake. Leon saw you struggling, catching the way you would doze off and then immediately wake yourself back up.

“Please, rest.” He muttered into your hair. You hugged him tighter.

“Do you have to go?” You asked him, even though you knew the answer.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Was all Leon could say in response.

You felt a lonely tear roll down your cheek yet again. But you were far too exhausted to cry some more. Instead, you sat up, looking at Leon intently. He returned your direct eye contact, sitting up himself to lean against the headboard and match your height.

“Promise me,” You started, holding out your hand. Without hesitation, Leon held it, locking your fingers together and giving your hand a slight squeeze.

“Promise me you’ll come back home.” You asked him, like you always did before he left for a mission. Every single time, he would give you the same answer.

“I promise.” He replied firmly. You knew deep down that asking Leon to make promises like this was unrealistic. He never fully understood what he was getting himself into until he arrived at the mission location – and you knew that despite his skills as a trained government agent, accidents always happened, and there was no way to know when things would go awry when he’s out in the middle of nowhere. But hearing him utter those two words before he left eased your worries just enough.

Trusting Leon was always easy.

“I love you.” You said softly, fitting back into Leon’s side perfectly, like you belonged there.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Leon replied, before tilting your chin up with two gentle fingers and kissing you with a fiery passion. You two lazily kissed each other until sleep started pulling you into its dark embrace. You didn’t fight it this time, resting your head on Leon’s chest and drifting away to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

The next morning, the two of you shared one last breakfast. You mostly sat in comfortable silence. You asked a couple questions about the mission, but didn’t get straight answers – it was confidential. You knew that already but always liked to ask questions anyway.

Right as Leon was about to walk out of your door, you stopped him. You took a few moments just to stare at him – he was as handsome as the day you fell in love with him.

You brushed some hair out of his face, kissing him slowly, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours for these last few minutes. When you pulled away, you were sporting a warm smile, feeling your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill. You kept them at bay.

“Don’t you dare–” You paused, your trembling lips making it difficult to speak. When you collected yourself, breathing in and out, you continued.

“Don’t you dare ruin this jacket. I love it on you.” You said, referring to the brown leather jacket that Leon had bought himself recently and was currently wearing. He had a tendency to ruin clothing items on his missions, and you hoped this one would survive.

Leon chuckled. The sound immediately filled you with warmth. You were going to miss that sound; God knows how long you’d have to go without hearing it everyday.

“Copy that.” Leon replied, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.

You shared one more embrace. The final hug was one the both of had trouble ending. But it had to come to an end eventually.

And then, Leon was gone. All that was left was a memory.

[meracyn]

hi can you please write a one shot of kwon x fem! reader who has strict parents and one day kwon helps her escape her house to go with him? tysm if you do this!

TRAPPED || kwon jae-sung

a/n: ok guys by tomorrow im gonna be editing these posts and make them actually worth looking at, no lazing off this time 😭 but i like this idea actually. ive heard some songs that would relate to a scenario like this, whoever you are anon, ur a genius fr

The tension in your house was unbearable.

Your parents, being both professionals, always pushed you to meet their expectations. They barely gave you freedom, let alone make your own choices as you grew up.

It felt so suffocating, so tiring. You were so sure you would end up going crazy any day by now.

What kind of parents were so strict they always had to monitor every. single. thing of their child’s life?

Yours.

And that was why you couldn’t wait to escape.

The night was thick with silence, creating a heavy atmosphere. You laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling before turning your head to the side, where the window was.

The moon hung low in the sky— a soft, silvery glow adorning the rows of houses underneath. You got up slowly, careful not to wake your parents. The walls were pretty thin, which only made it more difficult for you to have privacy, as they could hear almost every little thing you would do.

As you got closer, you opened it. The cool, chilly air embracing your body as the breeze played with your hair.

Outside your window, the world was silent. The leaves swayed gently on the trees, the streetlights being dim and faint in the distance, barely cutting through the darkness.

You began to think. About your future, your parents, and your boyfriend,

Kwon Jae-Sung.

It seemed impossible to get into a relationship due to your overbearing parents, but you managed somehow, and haven’t gotten caught so far– which made it the perfect reason to leave.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rush of adrenaline clashing with the quiet serenity of the night. Would it be worth the risk? Leave behind your future, your goals, everything just for some silly romance?

Every step you took felt like glass so fragile, that with one little mistake, would break.

You focused again on the scenery outside, just beyond the houses, staring at the open gate in front of you. So close, yet so far away at the same time.

The night seemed to be endless, full of possibilities—if you just took another step.

And you did.

Cautiously going back to your bed, you picked up your phone, just as you received a new message—it was him.

I’m outside. Can you get out on your own or need help?

Stay there. Your fingers quickly tapped the screen. I can manage

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Grabbing your bag and shoes on, you took a deep breath and began to climb out the window, heartbeat pounding in your ears with each movement you took. You held onto a nearby tree before stepping down, finally touching the ground.

Without bothering to look back, you ran away.

Kwon was standing outside of the car, a smile forming on his face as he noticed you.

“You made it,” He said softly, holding onto your hand as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t know what the hell is going to happen now,” You blurted out, having mixed feelings between anxiety and excitement.

“I told you I’d get you out. ” He whispered, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. “And I will.”

As you both got in the car, Kwon started the engine, driving away. You looked back at your house one last time.

For the first time in years, you finally felt free.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Would you do a request for Gambit with a partner with anxiety? I love fluff and I so don't feel like there's enough Remy fluff out there 😭

Steady as a Card in the Wind

The night air was warm, the sky above the New Orleans skyline clear, with stars twinkling faintly against the inky blackness. Remy LeBeau—better known as Gambit—sat on the balcony of his apartment, a deck of cards flipping effortlessly between his fingers. He loved the quiet moments like this, the times when the city seemed to settle into a peaceful hum, and he could just breathe.

But tonight, his mind wasn’t at ease. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door leading into the apartment, where you had retreated not too long ago. You had been quiet all evening, quieter than usual. The subtle signs of your anxiety had been there—your fidgeting hands, the way your eyes kept darting around the room as if looking for something to anchor you, and the way you’d withdrawn into yourself, your usual bright demeanor overshadowed by something heavier.

Remy sighed, setting the cards down on the small table beside him. He hated seeing you like this, hated that there was something gnawing away at your peace of mind, and that he didn’t know how to fix it. He had always prided himself on being able to read people, to charm his way through almost any situation, but when it came to you and your anxiety, he often felt helpless.

But he wasn’t about to let you suffer alone.

He stood up, slipping through the door and into the dimly lit living room. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled around your shoulders even though the night was warm. You hadn’t turned on any lights, and the only illumination came from the soft glow of the streetlights outside.

“Chère,” Remy said softly, his voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the room. “You alright?”

You glanced up at him, trying to muster a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah… I’m fine, Remy. Just… tired, I guess.”

He knew you well enough to know that was only half the truth. Your anxiety had a way of creeping in, taking hold, and making even the simplest things feel overwhelming. And right now, it was clear that it was getting the better of you.

Remy crossed the room, sinking down onto the couch beside you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and careful, as if you were something fragile that might break if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“You know, you don’t gotta put up a front with me, ma chère,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I can tell somethin’s on your mind.”

You looked down at your hands, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “It’s just… I don’t know. Everything feels like too much lately. Like I’m not doing enough, or like I’m just not enough. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help it.”

Remy’s heart ached at your words. He’d seen this before, the way your mind could twist things, make you doubt yourself, make you feel small. And he hated that there wasn’t a simple fix, that he couldn’t just take away all that pain with a snap of his fingers.

But he knew better than to dismiss your feelings or try to downplay what you were going through. Anxiety wasn’t something that could be reasoned away; it was a constant battle, one that you faced every day. And all he wanted was to be there for you, to help you fight it in any way he could.

“It ain’t stupid, chère,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Your feelin’s are real, and they’re valid. Don’t ever think you gotta apologize for feelin’ how you feel.”

You leaned into him slightly, your shoulder brushing against his. “I just don’t want to drag you down with me.”

Remy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until you were tucked against his side. The warmth of his body was comforting, his steady heartbeat a reminder that you weren’t alone. “You ain’t draggin’ me down, ma belle. We’re in this together, remember? When you’re feelin’ low, I’m here to lift you up. And when you’re feelin’ strong, I’ll be right beside you, cheerin’ you on.”

You let out a shaky breath, your anxiety still coiled tight in your chest, but the weight of it felt a little more manageable with Remy beside you. “I’m trying, Remy. I really am. It just feels like… like my mind won’t stop racing, and I can’t keep up.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he could will his own strength into you. “I know, chère. I know it’s hard. But you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been through so much already, and you’re still here, still fightin’. That ain’t nothin’ to scoff at.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his warmth. “I just wish it didn’t feel so overwhelming all the time.”

Remy’s hand traced soothing circles on your back, his touch steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. And it’s okay to lean on me when you do. You don’t gotta face this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice brought a lump to your throat, and you blinked back tears. “Thank you, Remy. For always being here for me.”

He tilted your chin up with a gentle finger, his red-on-black eyes locking onto yours. “Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be, chère. You’re my world, you know that? I’d do anythin’ to see you smile again.”

You managed a small, genuine smile this time, the love and concern in his eyes enough to chip away at the walls your anxiety had built up. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Remy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet room. “Oh, ma belle, it’s me who’s the lucky one. You’re the best thing that ever happened to this ol’ thief.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, comforting space. Remy’s presence, his love, was like a lifeline, grounding you when everything else felt out of control.

“Let’s get outta here for a bit, huh?” he suggested after a few moments. “Clear your head, get some fresh air. We’ll take a walk by the river, and I’ll show you some of my favorite spots in the city.”

You hesitated, the thought of leaving the apartment a little daunting, but the idea of being out in the open, with Remy by your side, was appealing. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Good. C’mon, chère. Let’s get goin’ before I change my mind and decide to keep you all to myself here.”

You laughed, a sound that felt good to let out after the tension of the evening. “Lead the way, Gambit.”

Remy stood up, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand as you both stepped out onto the balcony and then made your way down to the street below. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the sound of the city’s heartbeat—a mix of music, laughter, and the occasional car horn—was a soothing backdrop to the quiet conversation that flowed between you and Remy as you walked.

As you wandered through the streets of New Orleans, hand in hand, Remy pointed out the places that held special meaning for him—an old jazz club where he’d spent many nights listening to music, a little park where he’d often gone to clear his head, a hidden alley where the two of you had once shared a stolen kiss, laughing as you ran from the rain.

With each step, each story, the tightness in your chest began to ease, and you felt a little more like yourself again. Remy’s presence, his love and unwavering support, was a balm to your anxious heart, and as the night went on, you found yourself smiling more, laughing more, feeling lighter than you had in days.

By the time you returned to the apartment, the weight of your anxiety had lifted just enough for you to breathe easier. Remy led you back inside, and as you settled onto the couch together, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that no matter how dark your thoughts got, you’d always have him to help guide you back to the light.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that with Remy by your side, you’d never have to face your fears alone.

[teresalace]

🐸 Prince Naveen x Female Reader (NSFW) 🚩 (smut)

💃Happy marital life after the wedding~

▪︎Words: 2110

▪︎Warnings: Teasing, Cunninglingus, Naveen going down on reader on the dinnertable.

😭💕 Wrote this two weeks ago, I'm getting more comfortable with smut writing. Hope y'all enjoy! This is my second instalment of the 'Disney x reader' series 😁 first was Prince Philip. Please enjoy!

~~~~

Cooking is a part of your love language, anything to do with taking good care of your loved ones never tires you out.

Firmly handling a long wooden spoon, you swirled through a bubbling pot of gumbo, nice and slow in the thick stew. The rich meaty mixed vegetables flavor filled the entire kitchen, every breath you'd take in would be a delicious meal as you hummed a jazz tune to yourself. 

Even from afar, there was a lovely shine on your slightly sweaty skin casted down from the golden crystal lights fixed to the ceiling. Popping your hips out to every few beats of the boiling pot you continuously stirred. Oh, you couldn't wait to eat right after your husband comes back from his music band, dinner always tasted better with a loved one. 

.   .   .

Click. 

Right on time, you heard the soft thud of the front door knob opening and a faint scuffle of shoes being taken off. At that familiar sound, a happy tingly feeling rose from your stomach, not just because you were starting to feel a little peckish but you were looking forward to seeing someone...

A pair of muffled footsteps led towards the kitchen and gave you a lovely surprise.

Hearing a low melodic whistle from behind, you instantly smile and throw back a glance over your shoulder. "Oh you're absolutely glowing, my evangeline. Glowing!" Naveen said enthusiastically, leaning his side against the doorway, his sparkling teeth and wide smile never failing to lift the tiredness within you from a good day's work, his princely presence alone cheering your spirits.

Your lips spread into a loving warm smile as a chuckle rose out of you. "Why thank you, Naveen, you're looking more handsome than usual." And goodness gracious he really was, wearing sleek long pants with that favourite white polo shirt of his, the sleeved clumsily rolled up at the elbows and revealing his firm arms crossed over each other. Emphasizing the muscles there, like he was barely containing himself from springing his arms around you. 

"Of course, of course. It is both a burden and a treat to be as unbelievably handsome as I am~" He eagerly ran a hand through his luscious hair and kept it behind his head, posing unashamedly for your eyes. Never failing to reel chuckles and laughter out of you, anytime and any day.

“Uh huh, right. It must be so hard for you, baby.”

He nodded in an exaggerating fashion. "It IS very hard to have a beautiful person such as yourself by my side…” His eyes shut as he loudly breathed in the air, pausing dramatically. “Mmmmm, it smells delicious… Absolutely divine." His eyes reopened and stayed on you like a target, hardly sparing a glance to your side where the stew you cooked was. "Why don't we get comfortable and…” 

“-And miss out on dinner? Naveen, we best keep our stomachs full before anything else.” You lightly said, a scolding tone as you shook your head for good measure at his teasing expression. 

Putting down the wooden spoon on a plate, you heard a deep, almost mischievous chuckle. 

"Oh, I know a way to get full…" 

As if he couldn't wait any longer, Naveen gleefully leapt and wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you off your feet with little effort as you yelped being brought out of the kitchen, his grip slightly crushing your breasts and you grumbled when your toes barely grazed the ground. 

Like a floating water lily unable to move as easily against rippling water, you felt like you were floating as he carried you onto the dining table. 

"Naveen–" Before any protest could come out of your mouth, his lips mashed into yours and sent your body an explosion of tingles to course through.

Not wanting to fall, you had your hands propped behind you on the table surface and continued the harmonic kiss as his warm firm hands fondled the fleshiness of your thighs for his own pleasure. Inching higher and higher towards your hips, massaging gently as his hands dipped underneath the elastics of your underwear and tugged downwards.

Any and all protest disappeared from your mind when a breeze flowed by as your underwear was gone, and you heard a slip of fabric followed by an undone belt falling to the floor. 

"I've been looking forward to this meal, princess." His mouth latched to the sensitive nub, with little pressure at first while his fingers rubbed and probed around your vulva in lazy circles to get you worked up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer for better pleasure.

And it was working.

Round and round your labia, working up a slow rhythm that build up a delicious heat in your tightening core, but his chuckles added a cherry on top vibration onto that

It didn't take long with the help of his fingertips, like the skilled musician that he is, played you like a fiddle to spur on your release, your tensed thighs relaxing around his head, an audible sigh of relief letting out from you.

Wow…

"So, how was it, (Name)?" 

A slightly sweatier Naveen smirked sweetly up at you, breathing a little heavier, his long tongue running over his glistening wet lips in a smug fashion as if he was savoring your taste and to get a reaction out of you.  

You wheezed out an answer with a dazed smile, weakly rolling your eyes at his display, trying to glance down to his handsome face in a pearly sheen from the sweat. 

"Very… Very satisfied." 

That would be enough for a long while until the next time you'll make love with him.

"Then I'm about to do it again," his happy response was swift like his readied tongue when he dove back down in between your thighs, to your dripping entrance, continuing his expert strokes and rapid flicks on your vulva. 

Hardly appearing to be exhausted though you were sure his jaw would've been sore and aching now as his flicking tongue twisted and turned in so many different angles you never knew was possible, worked another explosive orgasm out of you. 

 Your curling toes, calves tensed as he never stopped his tired tongue from lapping up your juices. 

"Ah. I-I already came," half-mewls kept slipping from your lips. "You can rest," you breathed hard and heavy and called out to the head deep in-between your thighs, your fingers interlaced with his dark locks of hair tugging a little to get his attention. "Naveen!"

"I'll stop once you've begged for more~" Now that isn’t fair, that logic of his never helps you at all and he knows that! What a greedy prince.

"Please, don't give me more," you gasped at his sped up tonguing, like adding firewood to a burning furnace. He kept firing you up.

"Naveen! I won't kiss you today if you don't take a break," you grumbled a warning, sweating like rain, meaning every word you said.

Hearing you, he paused, cool puffs of breath closely fanning over your slit and making you twitch but giving you a chance to take in a proper deep breath. 

"Fine by me, princess– I'll just kiss your other lips, they look more lonely." The pounding in your chest intensified as your hands clenched onto the table edge, mentally you weren't prepared for his determination in peppering you in ravenous affection.

His tongue resumed drawing all over your intimates, specially licking up any essence of your obvious arousal glistening under the chandelier lights like a pearl.

"From my glorious time being a frog, I have learned to never underestimate what nature can teach you." He added before lowering his entire face down, your hips involuntarily jolting at feeling the sudden pleasures multiplying the second his lips began to kiss your very clit, no doubt swollen from his previous workings.

Almost making you feel jealous of your own…. Self. 

Then came his tongue. Oh gosh, his tongue! 

It penetrated your stickiness, lava hot, made you squirm involuntarily on the edge of the dinner table. Twisting and turning inside of you skillfully, inch by inch, scissoring you while his fingers prodded around your labia teasingly like he didn't know what to do.

Pleasurable torture is the only way you could describe it as you breathed in through gritted teeth, eyes barely focusing on the chandelier above, your shaky hand pulling onto a tuff of his hair gently.

Every time you even tried to move away from his tongue, his other hand slipped around your waist and secured you in place while his silken tongue kept dancing along your inner walls, his soft lips brushing against your lower ones.

He was french kissing you in another way, gosh. And you were so weak to him.

Finally, your whole body froze and shuddered as you climaxed, locking Naveen's face against your slick for a few seconds until your limbs slackened. 

A quiet gasp for air came from below you before a small burst of laughter came.

Both of you needed a moment to breathe deeply, your face flushed in a light sheen of sweat, which was laughable in comparison to Naveen's overly pleased smirk as he rose to his feet, his chest equally as heaving as yours. 

Another comfortable moment passed by.

I… really appreciated it. You didn't have to do this so soon, Naveen…" You caressed his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing his cheekbone, watching the warm dark skin turn shades darker beneath... And your wetness shining around his mouth.

He smiled in full satisfaction and leaned into your touch, his blushing never gets old, you knew he really was a sucker for compliments especially from you. "But I really enjoyed it, thank you, honey."

"Oh believe me, it was my pleasure, darling." Yeah you believed him, a certain hard poke at your thigh from below his waistband reminded you that it's going to be your turn to satisfy him.

"Well, It's about time I give you a reward," you smiled wide teasingly, slowly unbuttoning your shirt underneath the apron, his eyes sparkled, you could almost hear his anticipating excitement, following every inch of exposed skin before your apron blocked him. "But first, dinner. I made some good o' gumbo, and we should eat it while it's piping hot." You said smoothly, pushing yourself off the table and stabilizing on wobbly legs.

Naveen laughed out hard and rubbed his belly, joking. "I think I've already eaten plenty—" Oh the gull on this man.

"—Oh no you don't, fun comes later, I will not let you be with an empty stomach no matter how 'full' you say you are. Now come on, honey." You gently cut him off with reddened cheeks, shaking your head in disapproval at him. "There will be no skipping dinner while I'm here, not on my watch." 

He jokingly rolled his eyes when you placed a hand on his hard chest and lightly pushed him for you so you'd be able to get unstuck between him and the dinning table. 

Smiling, he let you push him to the side as you sauntered into the kitchen, him naturally following you to provide some help in bringing out the plates and utensils to the table. Teamwork always sped things up.

Using two hand towels to grab the hot handles of the still boiling pot, you heaved it onto a pre-prepared thick cloth on the dining table. Naveen already set up the soup bowls for both you and him, large plates and tall glasses for water. All that's left was to bring out the fluffy rice and dinner would be served at last.

Out of nowhere, your husband nervously blurted out as you were about to sit down. "I love you, my princess, I adore you." His glimmering eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul and captured your love all over again.

You paused mid-way and smiled lovingly, "I'd say the same in a heartbeat if I wasn't starving, but I do too. I love you, Naveen." 

And just like that, both you and him leaned in over the dining table and kissed briefly... Which turns into one long smooch, leading to three then the loud rumbling of his stomach interrupted the moment right on cue. He sheepishly grinned, "guess I'd better eat before loving."

"My stomach agrees," you giggled, the powerful smell of the gumbo stew making your mouth salivate, and you weren't the only one, looking at Naveen eyeing the soup across from you. 

Dinner that evening was a lovely overflow of laughter, praises, conversations and much later a lot of fun loving. 

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

You came — you called. II (+18) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦ PART I ✦ Word count: 2.2k ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: After having a little non-friendly chat with your abuser, Simon comes back home to find you asleep in his bed. ✦ TW and general warnings: +18 NSFW, SMUT, lots of porn, p in v unprotected, some dirty talk, size difference implications, he's got a big cock, fluff, open ending sorta ✦ AO3 | Masterlist

A/N: well, since you guys liked part I and I was so fucking inspired I decided to write part 2; honestly thinking of writing a part III I seriously need to stop 😭 I hope you guys enjoy it! x

taglist: @abbiesxox

2am - world was on fire and no one could save me but you

“Y’know,” Simon starts, his legs spread across the armchair. His chin rests on his hand, nothing on his face but an indifference fashion, almost like the blood dripping from that guy’s mouth was another Tuesday to him. “You’re quite lucky, mate.” He stretches and leans his body forward. His elbows rest on his knees and he bends low enough to stare eye to eye into the face of the man who dared laying hands on you. “Know why?”

Your abuser flinches, and doesn’t answer; he couldn’t even if he wanted to. 

His body doesn't move more than inches without feeling pain. He had lost count of how many kicks it took Simon to take him to that state - when you said your ex boyfriend was in the military, he didn't imagine that kind of military. There wasn't even a report he could possibly make. It didn't have a face, it didn't have a name - all he knew was that this man, your punisher in the skull mask, coded himself as Ghost.

And he knew that this man - this living ghost, this new alive fear of his, had made him spit blood for every slap, every squeeze, every bruise he left on your body. It would be too much for your tired, melancholic head to notice that whenever he contoured one in your back as he gave you a bath, he was counting. To each one, he’d punch him twice. Face, legs, stomach. He wanted to see blood.

“No?” He asked, licking his lips. “You fuckin’ pussy…” He scoffs, his voice ever so low, almost a whisper - almost like he could wake you up in his house, from this distance, by talking loud. “Because if it wasn’t for my girl, you’d be dead now.”

To your abuser’s silence, Ghost stands up and steps off avoiding the bleeding fucker in front of him. “And let it be known, I am not one to make noise. If you come after her again, you won’t know where the shot came from.” He states over his shoulder, before opening the door and leaving it open for the ambulance that’s yet to come - because, especially after you, he’s not a monster. Just a ghost.

4am - strange what desire will make foolish people do

The shower is on. You don’t hear it, blame it on your tough sleep; can barely hear your own alarms when it’s morning. 

It is almost morning. In a few hours, the sun will rise in the horizon of the simple window by Simon’s bed side and invade the room - equally humble - annoying you. Right now, although the sky is still dark blue, the only light source poorly illuminating the room is the dim, yellow light that comes from the bathroom while Simon finishes his much deserved bath. 

The bloodstained hoodie and his mask are thrown aside in the laundry basket and now quietly replaced for a pair of sweatpants - his pajamas. He walks towards you in mute steps, the mattress sinking from the pressure of his two hands against it, on either side of your waist. You feel the warmth of his freshly bathed body against your skin as he shelters you from the night cold breeze with his own body. It covers you entirely, and you mumble in your sleep, “Mmm, Simon.”. 

“Hm…” His raspy voice asks, against your ear; your body, still drunk in sleep, shivers at the contact. You move slightly, while his nose brushes against your cheek, and continues down to your neck. Simon takes your smell in like a drug, shit, how painfully hard he misses you.

“You’re back…? Hm- what time is it?” You ask in a drunken voice.

His hand caresses your bare thigh under your shirt, his thick palm scraping up your skin till he reaches your belly; it covers, almost entirely. You mewl, “Simon…”

“Late.” He replies simply, warmly, against your ear. His dog tag swings in the short space between the two of you, and brushes against your chest. You turn a little, now awake enough to be able to speak at least, and your eyes meet his staring at you, drinking in the details as if all that time away from you has made him forget how beautiful you look when you just woke up.

“You smell good.” You admit in a mutter, feeling his hand sliding up from your belly to your waist in explicit desire. Though the two of you reluctantly tried to withdraw from each other, you couldn't deny it - it was mutual. “Are you calm now?” You ask, your hand takes hold of his dog tag and your index finger wraps around the chain; slowly, you wrap yourself around his neck, and before he can answer you, your lips take his in a quick kiss.

“No…” He replies against your mouth, in a breath. The sound of fabric moving fills the room as he repositions himself over you, and his hand moves up, tracing your curves to the top of your breast and cupping it; “Needin’ you right now.” He whispers in between slow, passionate kisses you both share. 

Your leg curls around his waist as you kiss him desperately, like he could vanish from

your hands any second. “Ask me.” you whisper against his lips and your hand grasps his dirty blond strands as his hand tightens around your breast. “I like it when you ask…”

He closes his eyes feeling a chill rise in his belly hearing you moan, and smirks in both pleasure and pride knowing he was the one to cause it. 

“Can I fuck you?” He complies, pushing his hips against you almost unconsciously, and you feel your body burn, feeling the big bulge in his pants press into your core through the fabrics that separate the two of you.

In one deft movement, Simon lifts your shirt up to your face level and you obediently offer to hold it between your teeth as his mouth proceeds to feast on one of your breasts while his hand massages the other.

“Simon- ah…” You groan, as your body uncontrollably squirms a bit and your lower half pushes up against him, begging him for some more.

Your body relaxes as your soft spots tighten, and after minutes of satisfying your needy breasts, sharing his tongue's attention between the two of them, Simon finally starts to run his wet kisses down your belly - calm as a sea breeze, hot as hellfire, different than it usually is when the two of you meet on an empty night, still enraged by the last time you left each other, fueled by hate, no - this time it's something different. 

“I still think about you everytime, y’know, kitten?” He admits with a faint smirk as his hands pull your panties down your legs and quickly get rid of them, exposing now your needy and soggy core to his own view. “Nobody tastes sweet like you.” 

His hand cups your ankle and he spreads your legs; his other hand cups your pussy, his fingers parting your folds as his middle finger rubs you slowly, torturously in that sweet spot of pleasure. 

“S-Shut up…” You try to say, but your voice is caught in your throat by a sudden moan as his tongue takes place between your legs. In circular, slow and skillful movements, he sucks on your swollen clit - whatever you wanted to say is now replaced by heavy gasps and low, muffled moans as you bite down on your hand trying to hold it back. He disapproves, almost instantly, with a tight squeeze on your thigh and you can’t hold back a loud groan in response.

When he feels you're getting too close to your climax, Simon swaps the intense, slow strokes for even slower ones, his tongue barely touching your clit yet - that tiny tip of contact causing all you get is the intense desire and the twitching of your legs in a near-orgasm that's thwarted so many times, it gets you insane. 

“Simon, p-please for fuck sakes…” You cry, your eyebrows furrowed in lust. His cock almost pierces the sweatshirt at this point, his veins visible on every possible part of his body - his arms, his temples, his crotch that shows when he straightens up over you as his pants lower to his waist, with that small clump of hair showing. “Don’t fucking make me beg…” You curse once again.

His tattooed arm grabs your waist and moves you over him; his hand grips your ass and moves you against his lap, your hands look for support around his shoulders and your hips instinctively continue the movements he started.

“Take it, c’mon.” He teases you. “It’s fuckin’ ripping my pants already, baby.” He grunts in your ear, his breath gets heavier when he pulls down his pants only enough so he can pull off his rock-hard large twitching cock; he stares into your face as his hips press forward, running his length against your slit, slowly. 

“Ah, fuck.” You curse under your breath as you lift your hips until his tip is against your entrance, and slowly start lowering yourself. Simon holds back a growl as your tight walls begin to swallow his cock, inch by inch, slowly. It's almost too much for you, like you lost practice by fucking guys that were smaller than him; it’s not a hard deal - he’s really too big. His fingers dig onto the skin of your waist trying to restrain himself as he holds you steady and gives you some time to get used to his length filling your whole cunt. 

His low groans flood your ears as after a few painful seconds, you begin to move up and down, slowly at first but quickly getting faster, deeper - the excruciating pain of feeling him stretching you up entirely as if it was your first time again, gives in to the deep pleasure of having him hitting your spot each time you thrust against him.

Simon is a groaning, gasping mess beneath you; his hips move uncontrollably against yours, he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it back exposing your cleavage to him, so he can suckle onto your soft skin - leaving marks all over you.

“Mine, aren’t you.” He groans while fucking you hard, kissing all over you like a dog who crawls back to its owner. “You feel so fuckin’ good- ah-” he takes you in a sloppy kiss, your hands digging his back in raw flesh; 

“Y-Yours.” You reply in a gasping voice, almost out of air yourself. 

Without much time to tell beforehand, your eyes roll up and his movements grow faster. You grab his shoulders, feeling your own climax start to flood through your body intensely, your legs tighten and your walls tighten against him; your clit throbs, and you grunt.

“Simon- I love you-” You moan, and your inability to keep moving now, with all your muscles suddenly relaxed and your cunt painfully overstimulated by his continuing thrusts, causes him to grab your waist from both sides and lift you without further difficulty - like you’re lightweight. He fucks you through your orgasm with his thrusts getting stronger - feral, animalistic, as his stomach tightens and his muscles jump even more defined than they already are, a few beads of sweat trickle down his chest as he grunts in pleasure. 

Simon pulls out the instant he feels that crossing of lines where his consciousness loses itself to pleasure and surrenders completely to you - fast enough to spend himself on your thighs, partially, in a mess of grunts and gasps. 

Your body collapses onto his and he holds you, both of you still trying to recover from so much intensity in so little time. Little by little, he regains consciousness as he smells your hair against his nostrils; vanilla ice cream. And then, the feeling of your body against his, your thin arms seeking support around his neck - your voice, saying you love him.

Minutes later, after taking care of your needs - water, a hot shower, another clean pair of clothes, you finally find yourself snuggled in his arms. Simon’s eyes are fixed on your face, and he looks tired, but not willing to fall asleep anytime soon.

The tip of his finger caresses your arm, and the morning sun starts to come through the window.

“Do you think we’ll ever work together?” You break silence, gazing through his eyes with uncontrollable love. He sighs tired, and after a couple seconds, replies.

“I’ll break your heart once or twice; you’ll break mine. Isn't that how every relationship is supposed to work?” 

“Yes, but if so, why didn’t it work before then?” You close your eyes. He caresses your scalp, your beautiful hair, and closes his eyes as well.

“You look beautiful in the morning.” He mutters. “Not only in the morning, of course.”

“Simon…”

“Come back to me.” He asks, and it sounds like begging. Like crawling. 

You open your eyes, but his are still closed. You smile.

[aventurineswife]

don’t wanna be annoying buuuut can i request a sick fic with Aventurine taking care of Reader?

maybe Reader is kinda overemotional when they’re sick — they’re always feeling sad or irritated when they’re like this. they try their best to behave tho!!

(my dad may or may not have gotten sick. and just being around him may have gotten me sick too… 😭)

Calculated Kindness

Summary: When you fall ill, Aventurine takes it upon himself to care for you, blending his characteristic charm and subtle vulnerability. As you struggle with the emotional toll of being sick, he offers comfort in his own unique way, revealing glimpses of the man beneath his flamboyant facade.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Angst, Protective Aventurine, Reader Feels Useless (me honestly), Tender Moments.

Warnings: Mild emotional distress (Reader struggles with feeling weak and overemotional while sick), Brief mention of dehydration (in a lighthearted context), General themes of vulnerability and comfort.

A/N: bestie, you're never annoying me 😭🙏. Also, rip I hope you get well by the time this fic comes out 😔🙏 (ngl I can relate lmaoo happened to me plenty of times)

The first thing you noticed upon waking was the ache, sharp and unrelenting, throbbing behind your eyes. The second thing was Aventurine’s voice, low and teasing, cutting through the fog of your illness like a finely sharpened blade.

"Ah, you're awake," he said, his tone laced with that familiar blend of charm and calculation. "And here I thought I’d have to call the medics—or, at the very least, write you a will."

You groaned, shifting beneath the blanket cocoon he'd apparently wrapped you in. The weight of his gaze made you simultaneously want to melt into the bed and throw something at him.

“I’m not dying,” you muttered hoarsely. “Just… sick.”

His lips curled into a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was seated at the edge of your bed, legs crossed, his overcoat draped casually over the back of the chair. His hat rested on the nightstand beside a tray of what looked like soup, tea, and a suspiciously well-folded napkin.

“Good,” he said lightly. “Because while I’m known for extravagant gambles, I draw the line at dragging corpses around.”

You tried to glare at him, but it came off more as a tired pout. "You could at least pretend to feel bad for me."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and tilted his head with mock concern. “Darling, I am positively heartbroken. Can’t you see the sorrow etched into every perfect feature of my face?”

Despite yourself, a weak laugh bubbled up. "You're insufferable."

“And yet, you keep me around.” His grin softened into something warmer as he plucked the tea from the tray and handed it to you. “Here. Drink. Hydration is key, or so I’m told.”

You took the cup, cradling it in trembling hands. The warmth was soothing, though it didn’t do much to quell the swirl of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Being sick always turned you into a mess—sad, irritable, and just a little bit pathetic.

He must have noticed your expression shift, because his voice dropped to something quieter, less performative. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just…” You trailed off, swallowing hard. The tea in your hands blurred as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I hate feeling like this. Useless. Weak. I hate that you have to take care of me.”

His brow furrowed slightly, though the gesture was almost imperceptible. “Is that what this is about?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. “I’m trying to be good, I promise. I’m just—”

“Stop.” His voice was gentle but firm, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. He reached out, placing a hand over yours. The warmth of his skin was a grounding contrast to the chaos in your chest. “You don’t have to ‘be good’ for me. And you’re certainly not weak.”

“You don’t understand,” you whispered. “You’re… you’re you. Always in control, always on top of everything. And I’m just…”

“Human?” he supplied, his tone laced with dry humor.

You scowled at him, though it lacked any real heat. “I mean it, Aventurine. You’re too good at this.”

A flicker of something crossed his face—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. For a moment, his usual mask of confidence and charm slipped, revealing a glimpse of the man underneath.

“I’m not as infallible as you think,” he said quietly. “I’ve just had a lifetime of practice pretending.”

You blinked at him, startled by the honesty in his words.

“But this?” He gestured vaguely to the tray of soup and tea, the carefully tucked blankets, the feather-light touch of his hand against yours. “Taking care of someone I care about? That’s not pretending.”

Your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “Aventurine…”

“None of that now,” he said, his teasing tone returning as he gently brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “If you cry too much, you’ll dehydrate, and then I really will have to call the medics.”

You huffed out a weak laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for,” he said, his grin widening. “Now, finish your tea like a good patient, and maybe I’ll let you win our next card game.”

You snorted, lifting the cup to your lips. “You never let anyone win.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “But I do make an excellent nurse, don’t you think?”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.

Now I need to see him in a nurse dress... 😔🙏

[mi55delulu]

[9:56 p.m.]

pairing: lawyer!jungkook x lawyer!fem reader

cw: fluff, mature language, banter, established relationship, mentions of domestic violence, inaccurate depiction of law bc do i look like a lawyer? 😭 written in lowercase and also, unedited … boo me.

—

“how could you?!” you slammed the newspaper down onto jungkook’s desk. he peered up at you through his glasses, unsurprised at your reaction. the headline of said newspaper read: superstar mingyu suspected of cheating on korea’s sweetheart somi in amidst of domestic violence trial.

“i knew you played dirty, but this is a new low for you, jeon jungkook.” you sneer, pacing back and forth in his office. he watches you, eyes never leaving the way your skirt hugged your figure.

“well, did he not? the pictures on your phone from the paps tell us otherwise.” jungkook leans back in his leather chair. he looks good like this — hair slicked back neatly with a couple of strands framing his forehead, tie loose around his neck, and sleeves rolled up on his forearms to display his tattoos he’d usually cover in the courtroom.

you and jungkook were from the same cohort in law school. the best students in that year, always neck and neck when it came to your coursework. though, jungkook had one thing that you lacked: charm. he was always able to persuade the judge and jury at the very last minute.

in school, you both learned the three simple rules of persuasion: ethos, pathos, and logos. you liked sticking with the facts — logos. after all, the law is above all and justice is only proven in the court. jungkook, however, played his cards using tactics that swayed hearts. it frustrated you, but it always gave him the upper hand. things haven’t changed much from school now that you were both associates in the top rival law firms in korea.

you continue, “it doesn’t justify the abuse—” “alleged.” jungkook interjects with a smile.

“—he sustained from your client! for all we know, there was no overlap.” you palm your forehead and rub your temples to ease the forthcoming migraine.

jungkook stands up and comes around his desk, “baby.”

jungkook swayed many hearts in the courtroom, but he only had one heart in mind. you were a tough case to crack, but that’s what he loves about you. so headstrong, so smart.

he chased you down after every mock trial to offer a drink after another one of your losses against him. it’s a common practice for law school students — work hard, play harder. like clockwork, you’d hold up a hand to decline respectfully. but after you’d won in an exceptionally hard trial, you finally accepted his offer to drink. that was the turning point for your relationship in the coming years with him.

he corners you against his desk, arms caging your sides as he leans in to kiss your cheek while making his way down your neck. if you were truly upset with him, you wouldn’t have let him near you, let alone touch you like this.

“i’m sorry.” he means it, doesn’t like upsetting you, but he also hates losing big profile cases. he reckons you’re the same given with how you barged into his office. it’s not the first time and his secretary has given up trying to stop you.

“fuck you,” you scowl, to which jungkook answers with a nod against your neck, “keep this shit up and i’m going to postpone the wedding date. also, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“i’ll make it up to you after the trial, okay?” he kisses up your jaw.

“that’s bribery, jungkook.” you lull your head to the side, too tired to continue this argument with your fiancé.

“all’s fair in love and war.”

—

a/n: hehe was this okay? thought i’d drop off something small to kickoff 2025. lmk if i should continue these lil timestamp drabbles or if you’d prefer longer fics. if you like longer fics … you’ll rarely hear from me since my lil pea brain takes a minimum of 10 business days to write 1k words LOL anyways, have a lovely day