#maybe I crack myself up too much but still. Imagine. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lia-linny · 1 month ago

Note

Your request are open so could you maybe write a Felix neighbor au? I think he has boy next door vibes.

-🍒 anon

summary: Felix moves in next door and you hit it off immediately due to your shared passion for baking.

genre: fluff, neighbor au

words: 2.4k

The cold was moving through the empty corridors of yn's apartment complex. Winter announced itself with icy temperatures, which were still not enough for snow, and bare trees. It was a lonely, characterized by winter depressions. People wrapped up alone in their sofa blankets and tried to compensate for their problems with cookies and cheesy Christmas movies. Like every year, yn was one of those people. Kevin Alone at Home was her go-to, but just as she was about to start the fourth rerun of her favorite chrismas movie with a slice of freshly baked apple pie, there was a knock at the door.

Groaning, she untangled herself from her pile of blankets and hurried to the door. When she opened it, a handsome young man stood in front of her in the run-down and definitely not heated hallway. however, his broad smile had a warm glow, like hot chocolate with marshmallows, which made up for the lack of heating and immediately captivated her.

"Hey, I'm Felix. It looks like I'm your new neighbor." He beamed at her as if he couldn't imagine anything better than living next door to her, even if yn would have lost a lot of enthusiasm in his place after seeing the cracked walls and broken radiators. That's why she admired him all the more for his positive disposition as he chatted away happily. He was obviously a real social butterfly.

"I moved here for my work. I'm actually from Sydney, but a well-known dance school made me an offer I couldn't refuse, so I traveled halfway around the world for a bit." He laughed, a laugh as warm and hearty as his charisma.

"I really like it here so far. Ah, before I forget! I brought you some brownies. They're my specialty and I thought a welcome gift would go down well with the neighbors. I don't want to make myself unpopular." He laughed again. As if this personification of kindness and joy could ever make himself unpopular, but she was happy to take brownies anyway. She doubted that he could match her own, baking was her specialty after all, but she had to give him a chance.

"Thank you very much for the brownies... don't worry, the people who live on this floor are all grumpy housewives or old businessmen anyway. They hate you with or without brownies... At least I found all my welcome muffins in the trash outside a day later." yn laughed as she looked at Felix's horrified face.

"How can one be so mean?" he asked indignantly. Yn shrugged her shoulders.

"They're all bitter and have to take it out on their fellow human beings I guess..."

"Well then, promise me that at least you'll actually try my brownies. It would be too bad if all of them were thrown away." Yn giggled as she took the plate of still-warm brownies and nodded in response to his request.

"Promise!" He smiled at her from ear to ear and shyly she waved goodbye to him for now, even though as she closed the door she had a feeling that she would see him again sooner than she thought.

~☆~

The warm light from the ceiling lamp, together with the dimmed moonlight, was the only thing that illuminated the small kitchen, which was in the midst of the usual chaos that night-time stress baking brings for yn. Bowls were piled up in the sink, cutlery, any other baking utensils and food such as leftover sugar or eggshells scattered across the worktop.

She carefully weighed the ingredients and mixed them in her bowl. A little sugar, then the butter, but when she added the flour, the scale showed far too low a number. She needed at least twice as much for the amount prescribed in the recipe. However, she had already used up the entire contents of her packet. Sighing, she looked around her kitchen. There was no way this little amout of flour would be enought for the cake she wanted to bake.

But as it was the middle of the night, she didn't really feel like going out into the unsafe streets of her town to look for flour in a Convince store. So she really only had one option. Wait until the next day began and then continue baking. Resigned, she washed her hands and was about to watch her favorite show on the couch for the thousandth time when she thought of another option.

So she hesitantly entered the long hallway that connected her apartment to the others on her floor in her cute dog slippers. Carefully, she headed for her new neighbor's door. Felix had brought her his tasty brownies. That had to mean that there was at least a chance that he had flour at home.

She knocked on his door, barely audibly, before her courage could leave her. At first nothing stirred behind the walls and as she was about to give up and shuffle back to her apartment, she heard footsteps and soft rustling behind the still closed door. She hurriedly ran her hands through her hair, regretting that she had decided to do this, when the door opened.

Felix stood in the doorway. His hair was disheveled and his eyes narrowed. His freckles were clearly visible in the dimmed light of the hallway lamp and played around his soft facial features. But then her gaze wandered a little further down, too far down, because she realized that his top was completely missing. He had obviously forgotten to put on a T-shirt.

Her cheeks burned and she jerked her gaze away, even though she couldn't deny that she would have loved to keep looking at his well-formed six-pack. She covered her eyes with her hand to shield her bright red face from him.

"Oh..." his voice sounded even deeper than during the day, but one could still hear the embarrassment in it.

"I'm incredibly sorry! Give me a second!" He disappeared again and returned shortly afterwards, this time wearing a loose hoodie that completely covered his well-trained upper body.

"Hey!" Despite his tired eyes, he stole a glance at her.

"Hi, um... I was wondering if you had any flour left... i started baking and well... of course i didn't realize until much too late that i didn't have enough flour." Embarrassed, she stuttered her explanation. She desperately tried to banish the image of his body in her mind. Her neighbor laughed and then nodded.

"Of course I've got flour, what do you think of me? After all, my famous brownies don't bake themselves!" She had to giggle at his feigned offense. It made her relax a little again. Yn waited while he disappeared into his apartment to fetch her flour. But when he brought a 10 kilo bag instead of a small package, she was amazed.

"What do you need so much flour for?" she asked in horror.

"Do you think baking is a joke for me?" Felix just laughed and heaved the sack towards her apartment. He carefully put the flour down in her kitchen.

"You can keep the rest. I've got about six of the sacks left." He had to chuckle when she gasped in astonishment. How could one person ever use so much flour?

"Don't ask, it was a housewarming gift from my friends. They thought they had to celebrate my move by making me bake more brownies for them." Felix laughed, obviously reveling in happy memories of his friends. Yn had to giggle too, as this action sounded all too much like something her own friends would do. Her best friend had once told her that she would kill for her cake and she had meant it.

"Thank you for the flour. Are you sure you don't want me to bring you back the rest?"

"No, it's all good. But I would really appreciate a slice of whatever it is you're making." Felix winked at her, which turned her stomach, and the tingling sensation that followed replaced the previously very dominant desire for something sweet. He waved goodbye and Felix had already disappeared from her apartment, but his presence could still be felt in her glowing cheeks and trembling fingers.

~☆~

In the weeks that followed, she saw Felix again and again. She didn't quite understand it yet, but he triggered strange feelings in her that she couldn't interpret. But one thing was certain: she felt drawn to him, wanted to crouch down next to him when he stroked a cat outside her apartment complex, take his hand when he brought her mail up or hug him when he praised her cake.

And obviously this feeling of attraction was mutual, because one day when yn came home from work stressed out, she found a plate of brownies and a card on her doorstep. Curious, she bent down to find a neatly handwritten note from her neighbor.

'Hi, hi, if you have another flour emergency or just want to text, here's my number.

p.s. I hope you like the brownies >3'

She stared perplexedly at the digits that added up to his number. Slowly she typed the them into her phone, double-checking each number. Then she typed a cautious 'hey'

~☆~

Y/n stood on the friendly doormat and knocked on the door diagonally opposite hers with her cake box in hand. She had actually baked a cake because her parents were coming over today, but a few minutes ago they had canceled at short notice and Y/n really didn't feel up to eating a whole cheesecake by herself. So she hoped that Felix would take some of her cake. After all, it wasn't unusual for the two of them to provide each other with homemade baked goods of any kind.

When the door opened, however, she was not greeted by Felix's friendly face but looked directly into the eyes of a young man with a mischievous grin. Yn noticed how round his cheeks were as he shouted over his shoulder:

"Guys! It's Felix's baking girl from next door and he wasn't exaggerating, she really does look like a goddess!" Pure chaos then broke out. Numerous voices could be heard from the apartment, shouting and screaming and, if yn wasn't mistaken, something must have fallen over and broken.

"Jisung! Leave her alone, stop that shit!" Felix could be heard shouting, but the man he was obviously talking to only turned to her and winked. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she watched Felix fight his way down the corridor to the door in record time. He pushed his friend into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

Relieved, he leaned against it, his eyes closed, and yet he felt yn's questioning gaze on him.

"sorry, i'm sooo sorry! My friends can be a bit much. Please tell me you don't hate me, because I could understand thst after Jisung." He looked at her absently and yn started snorting.

"That was fucking weird!" She laughed, which brought a lovesick look to Felix's face that she didn't seem to notice. He didn't know what it was, but he would do anything to see her smile. It sweetened his every day. Felix often heard that he was a ray of sunshine, but he had never seen such a radiance as when she laughed. It fascinated him like nothing else and suddenly he had an infinitely strong desire to hold her close to him. When she had wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, she held up the cake expectantly.

"I baked a cake, but my visitor canceled. I just wanted to ask if you'd like a slice or two but it looks like you've got a whole horde of people in there so you might as well have the whole thing. " She held the cake out to him expectedly, but instead of taking it, he stared at her lips.

There was a change in the atmosphere, it was full of electricity and tension now. Suddenly she realized how little space there was between them and yet she wanted nothing more than to close the gap. Carefully, she took a step closer to him. Yn studied his face, his brown eyes, the position of his freckles and his rosy lips. Were they as soft as they looked?

There were only a few centimeters separating them. Slowly, as if he wanted to give her the opportunity to run away at any time, he approached her. Every millimeter he bridged made them both smile more. She used her free hand to claw at his top in a desperate attempt to somehow stop herself from floating away in happiness. When they finally pressed their lips together, grinning, it was like biting into a sugary cookie. Her dopamine level continued to rise along with her pulse. She felt his warm, soft lips on hers. They moved together, even if her happy grin made the task more difficult. Their breaths became one as they broke away and Felix smiled gently, resting his forehead on hers.

He felt like he could say this way forever but his plans were interupted as his apartment door, against which he was still leaning, suddenly opened behind him.

A small scream escaped him and he flew to the floor with a thud. His friends, who had opened the door, burst out laughing. Yn recognized Felix's friend jisung, who had also opened the door for her earlier. He rolled on the floor laughing, but when his eyes landed on the cake in her hand, his eyes grew huge.

"Is the cheesecake for us?" he asked between pleading and excitement. Yn laughed and nodded. With a happy smile, he took the cake from yn and whizzed back into Felix's apartment, a few of his friends followed him, others stayed behind with her and Felix, who had meanwhile managed to pull himself up from the floor.

"I'm off then." she said, a little embarrassed and avoided looking Felix directly in the eye, as she could already feel the temperature rising in her cheeks. She hastily turned around and fled to her own apartment, where she would spend the next few hours analyzing the situation with her best friend over the phone but before she closed the door her eyes met his and she shot him a loving grin. A promise that this was not the last kiss.

#kpop #stray kids #stray kids imagine #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #felix yongbok #felix #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #felix stray kids #felix lee #felix x y/n #felix x you

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darlingdaisyfarm · 28 days ago

Note

Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲

when the pervy old man meets his match

tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan

hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later

your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.

“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”

“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”

you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”

“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”

cocky bastard.

“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”

“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”

“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”

Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”

you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.

“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”

a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.

“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”

Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”

fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.

“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“

you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face

“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”

no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”

a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”

“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”

“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.

“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”

he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”

“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”

Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”

you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”

fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.

“nah,” he lies too quickly.

you giggle. “liar.”

“shut up,” he mutters.

“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake—“

“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”

“like hell you could!”

your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”

Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”

your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.

“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”

you grip the sheets.

“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”

your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.

“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”

you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”

Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”

you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.

“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”

heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting

“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”

you exhale.

“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”

oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.

“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”

Stan huffs.

“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”

“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”

you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”

“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.

“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”

Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.

“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”

his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.

“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”

“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”

wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.

but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.

“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.

Stan swallows. “wh-what?”

you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”

his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.

“Stanley? you close?“

“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.

“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”

Stanley is so fucking close.

“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”

“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.

“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”

“you—fuck—you little—”

suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.

he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.

Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”

“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.

silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.

“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”

Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”

“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.

“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”

“but you put up a good fight, old man!”

he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”

“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”

Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls smut #gravity falls #stan pines headcanons #stan pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines x you #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x self insert #stan pines x oc #stanley pines smut #stan pines smut

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ankababy · 10 days ago

Text

A Home (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

How come you’re such an angel? Why would you worry about someone like Niragi? Why, sweet little Y/N?

It had become a pattern by now.

You walked in. They ignored each other. They ignored you.

And yet, they never seemed to leave the same room. Even now, you stepped into the living room and found them so painfully far apart—Niragi sprawled across one end of the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table, while Chishiya leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

They should’ve moved.

They didn’t.

They liked to annoy each other too much.

You took it all in, the heavy, charged silence stretching between them, the way their postures were so casual.

God. They were exhausting.

Still, you smiled. “Good morning.”

Niragi didn’t look up.

Chishiya barely blinked.

So, business as usual.

You rolled your eyes, stepping further inside. “Wow, okay, guess we’re doing the silent treatment thing now. Real mature, guys.”

Nothing.

You ignored the urge to sigh.

Brats.

Instead, you made your way toward the kitchen, toward Chishiya—who didn’t move as you passed him, but you felt his gaze drift to you.

You were used to it now. He was always watching. Which was fine, because you were watching too. Chishiya, in all his distant, calculated ways, was easier to read than he liked to think. He never did anything without a reason.

So, when you stepped past him and reached for the pan, you glanced at him, eyes playful. “You never wake up this early.”

“Didn’t sleep much.”

“Mm.” you hummed, turning on the stove. “Thinking too hard?”

His silence was answer enough.

Meanwhile, Niragi groaned dramatically from the couch, stretching like a cat, clearly bored. “If I have to hear one more of your dry-ass conversations, I’m gonna hang myself with the toaster cord.”

You snorted. “So go somewhere else?”

Niragi scoffed, throwing an arm over his face. “You go somewhere else.”

You grabbed a few eggs, cracked them over the pan, and let the smell of breakfast start to fill the air. “What do you guys want?”

Silence.

Of course.

You smiled to yourself. Pricks. “Not answering? Great. I’ll just give you whatever I want, then.”

Niragi waved a lazy hand. “Sounds good, baby.”

Chishiya said nothing, but you knew he was watching. He always was.

You let the quiet settle over you, the warmth of the stove heating your skin, and despite their constant refusal to cooperate, despite their stubborn, endless silence—you liked them.

You really, really liked them.

And you really had no idea what these boys used to wake up to before you found them half-dead on the street, but you weresure it wasn’t the sound of a girl happily rambling while making them breakfast.

Oh well. They’d have to get used to it.

The eggs sizzled in the pan, the warm scent filling the kitchen, and you hummed as you flipped them over, tossing some seasoning in just to be cute. “I think I’m gonna redecorate.”

Neither of them responded. Which was fine. They weren’t exactly the morning chat over coffee types.

Did that stop you? No.

“It’s too boring in here. Everything’s all beige and gray. I think I wanna paint the walls.”

Still, nothing. So, naturally, you kept going. “Like, obviously, pink is the first choice, but I also thought about pastels, you know? Maybe a cute little lavender theme. Or warm tones! Peach, maybe? Ooh, or floral wallpaper!”

Silence.

Niragi had his head leaned back against the couch, arms stretched over the top, legs kicked up on the coffee table—so painfully uninterested. Chishiya, still leaning against the counter, hadn’t blinked in at least five minutes.

You stirred the eggs with a little more enthusiasm. “Maybe I’ll get some new furniture too. Imagine this place all soft and girly, and you two just sitting here looking all…” You gestured vaguely in their direction. “Like that.”

Niragi finally cracked an eye open. “Like what? You’ll live.”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up their plates. “Anyway,” you continued. “I think I’m gonna find some flowers too. Maybe a few paintings. It’s just too dead in here, you know?”

Again, no answer.

You turned around, plates in hand, eyes soft. “You guys have been in enough dead places.” You stepped over to Niragi first, handing him his plate. “Here. Don’t bitch about it.”

He scoffed, as you set it in front of him, your hand patted the top of his head softly. Not a big deal. Not to you, at least. (He froze. Blinked. Then clicked his tongue, muttering a sharp “Oi.” Like he was offended.)

You ignored him, moving toward Chishiya and handing him his plate. “And for you, doctor.”

He stared at you. Then, quietly, “Thank you.”

Oh. That was unexpected.

You smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

Then, with a stretch and a yawn, you leaned against the counter, hands behind you, absolutely beaming.

There was something about watching you.

Not in a weird way. Well—maybe in a weird way. But neither of the boys really meant to do it. It just… happened.

You stood at the counter, humming some gentle little tune, moving effortlessly between the sink and the stove. Cleaning up, putting things away, wiping down the already-spotless counters—like taking care of things was just second nature to you.

It pissed Niragi off.

Not you, necessarily. Just… what you were. What you represented.

Because people like you weren’t supposed to exist anymore. The world should’ve chewed you up and spit you out like it did everyone else. It should’ve taken that soft voice and those gentle hands and crushed them into dust.

And yet, here you were. Still standing. Still breathing. Still smiling.

The worst part? It wasn’t fake. You weren’t pretending.

He’d seen it before—the fragile little acts people put on when they were terrified, when they thought kindness would keep them alive, when they thought smiling meant survival.

But you? You weren’t scared. You weren’t even cautious.

Even now, after whatever the fuck happened that night, after dragging yourself home with barely enough strength to open the fucking door—you were still like this.

That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t how people worked.

Niragi stabbed at his food with his fork, scowling.

And across the room, Chishiya… thought the same thing.

Only, he wasn’t angry. Just curious. Because he was sure—so sure—that you weren’t naive. You weren’t walking around with that sweetness because you were blind to what this world was. He’d seen it in your eyes from the moment he woke up on that couch.

You knew exactly what this place could do to people.

And yet, somehow, it hadn’t done it to you.

Why?

How?

He didn’t feel much, never had, probably never would—but something about you wasn’t normal.

Chishiya knew people. He could read them, predict them, manipulate them—but you? He hadn’t figured you out yet.

And that was unacceptable.

He let his gaze linger on you for a little longer. Then, slowly, he took another bite of food.

And Niragi—scowling, shifting in his seat, eyes burning into the back of your head—did the same.

You moved and sat down next to him, the couch dipping as you settled in. It wasn’t anything significant—you weren’t all over him, weren’t trying to get in his face, weren’t touching him—just sitting.

And that pissed him off.

Because why the fuck were you like this?

There wasn’t an ounce of fear in you, not when it came to him. Not when you should’ve been looking at him like a bomb set to go off, not when you should’ve been keeping your distance.

Instead, you were right there.

And that fucking smile.

“How do you feel?” you asked softly.

Like tearing someone apart. Like getting up and leaving this stupid fucking apartment and letting this city swallow him whole, because the walls were too close, and you were too fucking close, and—

“I feel great.”

Flat, clipped, sarcastic.

Because he didn’t want to talk to you.

Except he kind of did.

And that was just another thing to add to the list of shit he didn’t understand.

You hummed, tilting your head. “No pain? Nothing at all?”

Niragi smirked. “You think a couple bruises and stitches are gonna slow me down?”

“No, but they should.”

God, you were so sweet about it. Like you actually cared. Like it mattered to you.

And that pissed him off even more.

Because why the fuck would you care?

He’d met people like you before, people who said they were nice, people who acted like they gave a shit, but it was always fake. It had to be. Because nothing in this world was real, not kindness, not comfort, not warmth.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

But you? You weren’t fake.

And that… that was a problem.

Because if you were fake, it would be easy to ignore you. If you were fake, he wouldn’t be thinking about you.

If you were fake, he wouldn’t be here.

You let a small silence stretch before speaking again. “Don’t you have to play soon?”

“Tch. Yeah.”

“I can go with you.” Without hesitation. Oh, Y/N.

And something about that, something about your voice, the way you said it like it was nothing made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

And not because he didn’t want you there.

But because he did.

Because you were his favorite kind of person to watch suffer.

Soft. Good. Pure.

Someone who didn’t belong here, someone who shouldn’t be breathing the same air as people like him.

He should’ve said yes just to see you break. Just to see if that kindness could hold up against the kind of games he’d played before. To see you fucking cry and want to kill yourself, to want to escape and scream and screech just for him to get away from you to—

“I don’t need you there.”

Hm.

“Alright, then.” Your voice was soft. Accepting. Like you weren’t about to push him, like you weren’t going to fight him on it.

And that pissed him off even more. Because it would be so much easier if you did. If you whined, if you begged, if you pressed. If you just acted like everyone else.

But no, you were just… nice about it. Like you actually fucking cared if he was okay. Like it mattered to you if he made it back.

And then, to make things worse, you lifted a hand—gentle, slow, unthreatening—and touched his arm. Softly. Barely.

But he felt it.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch me.”

It was harsh. Too harsh. A full-body recoil like you had just burned him.

You just smiled. Like you saw right through him. Like you knew exactly why he was reacting this way.

Like you knew that it wasn’t hate.

Like you knew that it wasn’t because he didn’t want you to touch him—but because he did.

Because no one had ever touched him like that.

No one had ever meant it.

And he couldn’t fucking handle it.

You let your fingers drag away from him, slow, careful, like you were backing off but still letting him feel it. And then, you stood up. Didn’t say another word. Just walked over to the kitchen, reaching for Chishiya’s plate without even looking at him.

Like you weren’t aware of the fact that he had been watching.

The entire time.

And Chishiya? Chishiya had been learning.

Because Niragi wasn’t hard to figure out. Not to him.

And this? This was fascinating.

Because Niragi was a dog. A violent, rabid thing that bit when he got too close, that snapped his teeth when things got uncomfortable.

And what did rabid dogs do when they were backed into a corner?

They attacked.

Not out of power.

Out of fear.

And Niragi was afraid.

Because he was feeling something he didn’t know what to do with. Something that didn’t fit into the world he had built for himself. Something that confused him, that scared him.

And you were the cause.

Chishiya already knew you were different. That you were too soft for this world. That you didn’t belong here.

But now? Now he knew why Niragi was really fighting you.

It wasn’t because he hated you.

It was because he didn’t.

And that was dangerous.

For all of you.

Niragi was gone.

You had seen him walk out that door. And now you were here, sitting on the couch, facing the front door like some housewife waiting for her husband to come home from work.

Except this wasn’t a normal world. And Niragi wasn’t a normal man.

And you weren’t sure he was coming back.

Oh, no—don’t think like that.

He was fine.

He had to be.

Because that’s what Niragi was, right? Fine.

A survivor. A violent, ruthless thing that didn’t just exist in this world but thrived in it. The type of person who didn’t need help, who didn’t need care, who would sooner die than admit he was vulnerable.

He’d be fine.

Wouldn’t he?

You exhaled slowly, pressing your hands against your knees, steadying yourself.

It wasn’t him you didn’t trust.

It was the world.

He was a fighter, yeah, but that wasn’t always a good thing.

Because fighters didn’t just survive. They got themselves killed. And Niragi? He had that particular kind of recklessness, the one that made you wonder if he even wanted to live at all.

That wasn’t the same thing as being fearless.

Oh, no.

Fearless people wanted to live.

Niragi? He wasn’t afraid to die.

Because he’d already lost.

Something. Everything.

You didn’t know what.

But you knew that look.

That almost dead, hollowed-out look in someone’s eyes when they had nothing left to lose.

That was dangerous.

Because what do people like that do?

They go too far. They throw themselves into death like they’re testing it, playing with it, seeing if today is the day it finally catches them.

And Niragi was the type to laugh at it. To take the most brutal, most fucked-up games just to feel something, anything.

The type to walk into battle knowing it might be the last time, and not caring.

And that? That scared you.

Because Niragi was already playing with death.

And you were afraid that one of these days, it was going to win.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before Chishiya sat down next to you.

He was quiet, barely making a sound, like a cat slipping into a room unnoticed. You didn’t look at him, just glanced slightly from the corner of your eye as he leaned back against the couch, draping an arm over the back like he had nowhere better to be.

“How are you?”

You blinked. Turned your head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t immediately respond, only tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering over you, down to the places where injuries were hidden under your clothes.

“Your body.” he clarified. “How is it?”

Ah.

You almost laughed.

He hadn’t asked out of care.

It wasn’t concern.

It was curiosity.

Because Chishiya wasn’t the kind of man who worried.

You exhaled softly, glancing down at your hands. “I’ll live.”

And he didn’t argue.

Didn’t press.

Because he knew it was true.

But he stayed.

He didn’t move.

And that was enough to know he wanted to talk.

So, you let the silence stretch for a moment, then finally asked, “You don’t talk much, huh?”

He let out a quiet huff, the closest thing to a laugh you’d ever heard from him. “You talk enough for the both of us.”

You smirked. “You’re lucky I do, then. Otherwise, we’d just sit here in silence.”

He didn’t argue with that, either. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You’re waiting for him.”

It wasn’t a question. You still answered anyway.

“I’d wait for you, too.”

“You shouldn’t.”

You raised a brow. “Why?”

Chishiya sighed softly, shifting in his seat. “Because Niragi is an idiot.”

You actually laughed this time. “That’s not really a reason.”

Chishiya smirked slightly, glancing toward the door. “He’s reckless. He doesn’t care if he dies.”

You frowned slightly. “Yeah, well… that doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Chishiya was silent for a moment. And then he looked at you again, pretty eyes scanning your face, as if searching for something.

And you wondered—what did he see when he looked at you? What did his brain, his cold, calculating, sociopathic brain think when it tried to figure you out?

Because you knew he was. You saw the way his fingers tapped against his knee, the way his eyes lingered, the way he tilted his head slightly when you spoke.

You weren’t just a person to him.

You were a puzzle.

And Chishiya loved puzzles. He liked people he could tear apart and put back together. But you? You were still a mystery. Still unsolved.

And that’s why he stayed.

That’s why he talked to you at all.

It wasn’t about care.

It was about understanding.

Because if there was one thing Chishiya hated, it was not knowing something.

And youu were something he didn’t know.

You let the silence settle for a moment. Let him watch you, let him try to figure you out like a puzzle with a missing piece. Then, with a soft voice, you asked, “And you? How are you feeling?”

Chishiya blinked, barely, like the question was unexpected. Because it probably was.

He was good at that—pretending. Pretending your question was no shit, that he didn’t care, that you were the one caring too much. He was just sitting there.

But you knew better.

Because you had been the one to find him bleeding out. You had been the one to carry him home. To clean his wounds, to wrap him up, to keep him alive when the world had done its best to kill him.

And now? Now he was here. On your couch. In your home. Sitting next to you.

So, you weren’t going to let him act like none of that happened.

He sighed, dragging his eyes away from you, toward the ceiling. “I’m alive.”

You smiled. “So am I. Doesn’t mean I feel good.”

That made him glance at you again. “You’re too smart for your own good.” he muttered.

“And you’re too good at avoiding questions.”

That actually got a smirk out of him. “Touché.”

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “Do you feel any pain?”

He shrugged slightly. “Less than before.”

You hummed, leaning back against the couch. “Good. I’d feel bad if I nursed you back to health just for you to drop dead in my living room.”

“What a tragedy that would be.”

You smiled. “I’d cry.”

Chishiya gave you a look. “You don’t even know me.”

You shrugged. “I don’t have to know you to be sad if you die.”

His smirk faded slightly. And you knew that had hit something.

Because Chishiya wasn’t used to that.

To people caring.

Not without a reason, not without something to gain in this world. Back in the normal world, sure. He saw crying mothers, fathers, friends and family. But here, it wasn’t people crying over someone they knew surviving, it was crying about themselves surviving.

And yet, here you were, telling him you’d cry if he died.

Not because he was useful. Not because he could offer you something in return.

Just because.

Because you were you. Because you cared, whether he understood it or not.

And he didn’t.

He didn’t understand you.

He didn’t understand why you were like this.

Why you took him in.

Why you let Niragi stay.

Why you were sitting next to a sociopath and a psychopath, making them breakfast, asking if they were okay, talking to them like they weren’t the worst kinds of people.

You were insane.

And yet he liked you.

He didn’t know why. Didn’t know what part of his brain, what tiny, irrational part of himself was keeping him here, making him engage, making him talk to you when he wouldn’t have bothered with anyone else.

But it didn’t matter.

Because here he was.

And here you were.

And you didn’t look away from him. Didn’t pull back, didn’t shy away, didn’t flinch at the fact that he was who he was.

No.

You just smiled. Like none of that scared you. Like you could see through every layer he had built and still thought he was worth saving.

The conversation naturally faded, dissolving into silence. Not an awkward one, not one that begged to be filled—just a quiet moment, a breather. You leaned back against the couch, staring at nothing in particular, lost in your own thoughts.

And he was doing the same.

You could feel it.

Chishiya was next to you, sitting just close enough for his presence to be tangible, but not enough to feel invasive. He wasn’t the type to invade unless it was for his own amusement. No, this was something else.

And, strangely, you liked it. You liked that something else. You liked sitting here, not talking, just thinking.

And that was rare. Most silences were filled with tension, with something left unsaid, with expectations. But this one? It was just that. A silence.

Your mind wandered. To everything and nothing. To him. To the fact that this man had seen your bare tits, had literally touched you, had wiped blood from your skin, and yet, you didn’t fucking care.

And that was strange.

You should care. Should feel embarrassed. Should have freaked out when he walked into the bathroom, should have pushed him away when he touched you.

But you hadn’t.

You had let him.

Because it had been nothing. Guy was a doctor, wasn’t he?

And yet—was that really it? Or was it because, deep down, you trusted him? Trusted a man you had barely known for three days.

You dragged your eyes over to him. He was thinking, you could tell. The way his fingers tapped lightly against his leg, the way his gaze was unfocused, not looking at anything in particular. His mind was probably running a mile a minute, analyzing, pulling apart every little thing that had happened.

What was he thinking about?

You?

Niragi?

The way you sat next to him, comfortable, unbothered, despite knowing what kind of person he was?

You almost wanted to ask.

But you didn’t. Instead, you sat there, your mind drifting again.

You thought about Niragi, about his reaction, about how he had been so mad that Chishiya knew something he didn’t.

Because Niragi felt too much.

He didn’t know what to do with his emotions, didn’t know how to process them, so he turned them into rage.

Chishiya, on the other hand? He didn’t feel enough.

Didn’t get attached.

Didn’t care.

Yet, he was still here.

Still sitting next to you.

Still waiting for something.

But what?

You let out a quiet breath and turned your gaze back toward the ceiling.

Maybe you’d never know.

Maybe you didn’t need to.

Because, at the end of the day, all three of you were just trying to survive.

“Why do you wait for him?”

You blinked, turning your head slightly to look at him as his voice broke the silence. He was already watching you.

There was no judgment in his tone, but you could tell he had already formed his own theory. He always did.

You let out a small breath, turning your gaze back toward the front door. “I don’t know.” you admitted softly. “I just… want to.”

Chishiya hummed, as if considering your words, but you could tell he wasn’t satisfied. He tilted his head slightly, watching you, his fingers drumming lightly against his leg. “I thought, for a second, that maybe you had some dumb little crush on him. But you’re too mature for that. Too smart. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for someone like him.”

You didn’t say anything.

Because he was right.

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t reckless. You knew exactly who Niragi was.

And so did Chishiya. Which was why, after a moment, he looked at you, and said, “You know what he’s done, don’t you?”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a statement.

You swallowed, pressing your lips together. “I know he’s done things.” you admitted carefully. “But I don’t know the details.”

Chishiya’s eyes gleamed at that. Like he had been waiting for you to say that. Like he had been waiting for an excuse.

“I’ve seen Niragi burn people alive.” His voice was calm, as always, detached, like he was talking about some random animal he had studied, not an actual person.

The words hit like a gut punch. You didn’t react, not externally, but you felt it.

He continued. “He doesn’t kill because he has to. He kills because he wants to. Because it amuses him. Because it gives him something to do.”

Your fingers curled slightly against your lap.

Chishiya leaned back, still watching you. “I watched him shoot a man in the leg once, just to see how long he could crawl before bleeding out. Didn’t even bother killing him. Just left him there.”

A pause.

“He likes power.”

Another pause.

“He likes knowing he’s the worst thing someone has ever encountered.”

Your stomach felt tight.

“You think I’m cruel?” he asked.

You frowned slightly at the sudden shift. “What?”

“You think I’m cruel,” he repeated, slower this time. “but you don’t think he’s cruel.”

“I never said that.”

“No,” Chishiya said. “but I can tell. You think Niragi is lost.” His lips curled slightly. “You think he’s a hurt little boy who just never learned how to deal with his emotions.”

He was mocking you.

But there was truth in his words.

You did think that.

Because it was true.

“You think he can be saved.” His voice was quieter now. Calm. “You’re wrong.”

The words hung in the air, heavy, absolute. Chishiya meant them.

You didn’t know if he was right.

Because Niragi was fucked up, that was clear. He was dangerous, psychotic, violent.

But was he beyond saving?

Chishiya seemed to think so.

You weren’t sure if you did.

You looked at Chishiya, at the way he sat so still, so composed, so utterly sure of his own assessment.

And yetdespite everything, despite all the hatred in his voice when he spoke of Niragi, you could tell.

How similar they were.

How much he hated Niragi not just because of what he did, but because he saw something of himself in him.

And he hated that.

You exhaled, looking down for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Chishiya had spoken his piece, and he had spoken it with certainty—like it was fact, not opinion. That was the way he operated. He observed, calculated, concluded. And he did it all like a machine processing information, stripping away everything unnecessary—like emotions.

But you weren’t like that. You worked differently. You didn’t just observe, you understood. You saw people for more than their actions. You looked past the behaviors, the surface-level brutality, and into the why.

“I think people like this,” you started, choosing your words carefully. “usually have a reason.”

Chishiya made a soft noise—something between a hmm and a scoff, but you continued before he could interrupt.

“Not an excuse.” you clarified. “Not a justification. Just… a reason. Something that turned them into this. Something that made them feel like this is the only way to exist.”

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, listening.

You kept going. “I don’t judge people until I know what’s underneath. Until I know why they are the way they are.”

Chishiya exhaled softly, a quiet hmph “That’s a dangerous mindset. Could get you killed.”

“It’s gotten me this far.” you said simply.

He didn’t argue with that.

You studied him for a moment. The way he sat, relaxed, the way his eyes stayed on you—not in a confrontational way, but in a way that told you he was interested.

And that was the thing about Chishiya. You knew he wasn’t a good person. He admitted it himself, in the way he spoke, in the way he carried himself, the way he distanced himself from the world. But he was intelligent, analytical, always multiple steps ahead.

And this—this type of conversation?

This, he liked.

“You said he enjoys killing.” you said. “That he likes power. That he likes knowing he’s the worst thing someone has ever encountered.”

Chishiya gave a small nod.

“But people don’t just wake up like that.” you said, your voice thoughtful, careful. “Nobody is born like that. It’s something that’s shaped. Something that’s forced into a person.”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t change, but you saw the flicker of something in his eyes.

He knew you weren’t just talking about Niragi anymore.

You were talking about him, too.

And he let you.

“People who hurt like that,” you continued“are usually people who have been hurt just as badly. Or worse. People who had no control. People who were victims, so they make sure they never are again.”

Chishiya hummed. “So you think Niragi’s a victim?”

You gave a small shrug. “I think there’s something there.” you admitted. “Something that made him the way he is.”

“And me?”

The question wasn’t playful. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was curious.

You tilted your head slightly, giving him a small smile. “You already know what I think about you.”

His lips curled, just slightly.

He didn’t argue.

Because he did know.

He knew you saw through him.

He knew you saw the walls, the detachment, the way he kept himself above everything.

Now, he knew that you didn’t just see it.

You understood it.

He didn’t hate that.

You were tired. Your body ached, your mind weighed down from the long hours of waiting, of worrying—though you wouldn’t admit the latter out loud.

But you stayed.

And so did he.

Chishiya hadn’t gotten up, hadn’t made any move to retreat to his room, even though he had no reason to be here. He wasn’t waiting for Niragi. He wasn’t the type to wait for anyone.

But he was entertained by you.

And maybe—just maybe—he stayed because, in his mind, it was fair.

You had waited for him once, too.

You shifted slightly, pulling your legs up onto the couch, hugging them to your chest. Chishiya remained as he was, his arms resting lazily against the couch, gaze half-lidded.

The silence stretched on.

Until the front door creaked open.

You straightened instantly, exhaustion forgotten. Chishiya simply flicked his eyes toward the door, unimpressed.

And there he was.

Niragi.

He stepped inside, his clothes dirtied but intact, and his face—his face was fine. No blood. No bruises. No sign that anything had gone wrong.

You exhaled.

“Oh.” you breathed, a smile forming. “You’re back.”

Niragi smirked. “Obviously.”

You stood up, stepping toward him, your expression warm. “How was it?” you asked, voice gentle, like you hadn’t just spent hours waiting in quiet anxiety. “Everything go okay?”

Niragi clicked his tongue, stepping further inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Easy.” he said.

“Good.” You nodded, your shoulders loosening. “Come sit.”

He raised a brow. “Bossing me around now?”

You rolled your eyes, but it was light, affectionate. “Sit.” you repeated, softer this time.

And he did.

Not because you told him to. Not because he had to.

But because he wanted to.

And the moment he sat down, you—god, you were an angel. You were all over him, leaning in, your gaze scanning him for any sign of injury, your hands hovering like you wanted to reach out but were waiting for some unspoken permission.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked.

He ate it up.

Every bit of it.

The way your voice softened, the way you cared, the way your whole attention was on him.

Fuck, he loved it.

He leaned back into the couch, stretching his arms over the back, grinning.

“I told you.” he said, all smug. “Easy.”

You gave him a look. The kind that said you weren’t entirely convinced, but you weren’t about to push.

“Good job.” you murmured, and it sounded so genuine that Niragi nearly laughed.

“Good job?” he repeated, amusement in his tone. “What am I, a dog?”

You tilted your head. “I mean… do you want a treat?”

Chishiya snorted. Niragi shot him a glare.

You smiled, shaking your head.

“Well,” you said, placing a hand lightly on his arm, warm. “I’m glad you’re back.”

And Niragi—oh, he was swimming in it.

In you.

The way you touched him—not like he was dangerous, not like you were scared, not like he was some rabid animal. No.

You touched him like he was human.

And maybe that was why he let you do it this time.

Because you were the only person who ever had.

And maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind that.

Niragi shifted, leaning back into the couch with a slow exhale, his body stretching out like a lazy cat, but—oh. He winced. There was the flicker of his eyelids, the barely-there grimace, just enough to be noticeable.

And of course—of course—you noticed.

You were too good, too caring, too fucking soft to miss something like that.

“Niragi?” Your voice came gentle, your brows furrowing just slightly as you tilted your head.

He hummed, like he barely heard you, like he was too busy dealing with the oh-so-terrible pain.

“You okay?”

And just like that, his plan was already working.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders, wincing again, deepening it this time, his smirk barely hidden.

“Dunno.” he muttered. “Think I might’ve overdone it.”

You immediately leaned in, concern flashing across your features.

“What? Where?” Your hands hovered, just inches from him, unsure where he hurt.

Niragi almost grinned, but he kept it just right. Just subtle enough to sell it.

“Shoulder.” he said, rolling it again, letting another small wince slip out. “Think I pulled somethin’.”

And there you were. Your brows knit together, your lips pressing into a small frown as you actually worried. “Do you want me to look at it?”

Oh, fuck. He could have fun with this.

He let a low hum rumble in his throat, acting like he was debating it, like he wasn’t just thriving off your attention.

“I mean…” He let his head tip back against the couch, turning to you with a lopsided grin, eyes lazy, voice deepening, taking his time. “If you insist, babe.”

Chishiya, from the other end of the couch, snorted.

Niragi ignored him.

You didn’t. Your gaze flickered toward Chishiya, as if realizing something, but then back to Niragi, your fingers already lightly touching his arm.

God, you were so fucking easy.

You pressed gently against his shoulder, frowning in concentration. “Here?”

He hummed again, lower this time, just enough to make it something else.

Your fingers twitched.

Oh, you caught that. You weren’t dumb, not at all, and Niragi knew it—but that’s what made this so fucking fun.

He watched you, the way you hesitated, the way you thought about it, the way you realized exactly what he was doing.

And still—you kept touching him.

Fucking perfect.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, arms crossed, watching. He leaned back, shaking his head slightly. “Pathetic.”

Niragi shot him a lazy smirk. “Jealous?”

Chishiya barely reacted, but that was the fun of it.

He just knew. He saw Niragi’s game the moment he stepped through the door, saw the exact angle, the exact play—all of it. And he also knew why.

Niragi was a fucking sadist, yeah. But that wasn’t the only reason.

Oh, no.

Because if Niragi was really just fucking with you, if it was really just some sick joke to get you flustered, he wouldn’t be leaning into your warmth like that.

He wouldn’t be letting you touch him this long.

He wouldn’t be drinking it in like a dying man crawling toward water.

Chishiya’s eyes flicked to you. Did you know that?

Did you realize that Niragi was so fucking love starved, so touch deprived, so fucking desperate for even an ounce of warmth that he had to manipulate his way into getting it?

Probably.

You probably knew.

And you were still giving it to him.

Fucking idiot.

But then again, Chishiya supposed—so was he.

Because he was still sitting here, too.

You stood up, rolling your shoulders as you stretched slightly. “I’ll make food.” you said, already heading toward the kitchen.

Neither of them answered. Of course. Fucking brats.

“You look like shit.” Niragi turned to Chishiya, slouching deeper into the couch, arms spreading out.

Chishiya, who had been completely unbothered until then, slowly turned his head. “And yet, I look better than you.”

Niragi’s smirk twitched, but he kept it, baring his teeth slightly. “You always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you got a whole fucking dictionary shoved up your ass.”

Chishiya blinked once. Slowly. “Strange. I thought you’d like that sort of thing.”

Your soft laughnearly startled them. They both looked toward the kitchen, watching as you, still prepping food.

Niragi barely hesitated before turning back to Chishiya.

“Trying to flirt with me, doc?” His voice dripped with amusement, his grin widening. “I get it. I’m irresistible.”

Chishiya’s face remained perfectly neutral, as if he were speaking about the weather. “I’d rather throw myself off the roof.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Niragi grinned wider, leaning in slightly. “I bet you—”

“Shut up.”

It was said with so little effort. So flat. So completely uninterested that Niragi actually stopped mid-sentence.

You heard the silence from the kitchen and had to bite back a laugh.

Niragi? Silenced?

That was fucking rare.

But of course, only for a second.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?”

Chishiya turned away, completely ignoring him now.

Niragi hated that.

You, meanwhile, were enjoying every second of it.

“You two should start a podcast.” you commented, voice way too sweet as you focused on cooking. “So much chemistry.”

Chishiya just sighed.

Niragi threw his head back in laughter. Loud. Sharp. “Shit, baby, you’re funny.”

You smiled to yourself. “I know.”

Chishiya did not smile.

He simply existed, in pure, eternal suffering.

With both plates in hand, you made your way toward them. Niragi stretched out his legs, watching you, while Chishiya remained as he was—arms draped over the back of the couch, relaxed, but his gaze following you like he was analyzing every move you made.

You set Niragi’s plate down first.

“There you go.” you murmured, voice sickeningly sweet as you gently placed it in front of him. “Eat up, bad boy.”

“Ooh, you wanna feed me, too, baby?”

You patted his head.

Like a fucking dog.

So fast that Niragi barely had time to react before you were already stepping past him, placing Chishiya’s plate down as well.

“And for you.” Your voice was just as sweet, gentle, as if the two men before you weren’t literally some of the most dangerous people in this entire city.

Chishiya simply blinked up at you, unreadable as always, but he noticed it.

Something off.

Something in the way you walked.

At first, he wasn’t even sure what it was, but as you stepped away, heading back toward the kitchen, his eyes narrowed slightly.

The way your weight shifted just a little bit wrong. How your steps weren’t as smooth as usual.

It was subtle.

So subtle that even you didn’t seem to notice.

Chishiya knew you by now. You were too perceptive, too aware of yourself, of others. For you to not notice meant that either you were ignoring it or too distracted to care.

Too busy drowning these two absolute nightmares in affection to pay attention to yourself.

His eyes flicked toward your leg, then to your back, then back—analyzing, calculating, breaking it down piece by piece.

Something hurt.

Small, but definitely there.

Chishiya tilted his head slightly.

Hm.

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, tidying things up, like this house wasn’t occupied by two of the worst people to ever walk the earth. Plates stacked neatly, crumbs wiped away, the soft clinking of dishes filling the air while they ate.

Or at least, Niragi did. Chishiya ate slow. Niragi, on the other hand, ate like he hadn’t had a meal in weeks, shoveling food into his mouth without shame.

You finished wiping down the counter, then stepped around the couch, moving behind them.

“Are you two okay?” Your voice was light, gentle, full of something neither of them deserved.

Chishiya didn’t answer. He simply let his head tip back over the couch, glancing at you upside down. He looked painfully cute doing that. Niragi barely lifted his head, only letting out a hum that could’ve meant anything.

“Good.” you murmured. “Good night.”

You walked away, disappearing down the hall, your door closing behind you.

And Chishiya blinked.

You didn’t eat.

Not one bite.

Not while cooking, not after, not even while cleaning up.

His eyes flicked toward Niragi.

And the pieces clicked together.

Niragi, who had devoured the attention you gave him. Niragi, who made a show of being in pain, drawing you in, demanding your focus, stealing your warmth just because he could.

Chishiya knew people. And Niragi was so easy to read it was almost funny.

Every single touch. Every soft-spoken word. Niragi ate it all up like a starved animal.

He might as well have been sitting there wagging his tail.

Chishiya watched him, tearing apart the situation piece by piece in his head, breaking down the sheer fucking need in Niragi’s body language.

And finally, Niragi noticed.

His chewing slowed. He turned his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“The fuck are you looking at?”

Chishiya barely lifted a shoulder.

“You.”

“Getting jealous? Don’t worry, she can touch you too, you just gotta cry for it a little.”

Chishiya only raised his hands.

Your body ached the next morning. Not in the usual way. This was something deeper, sharper—a dull, throbbing pain along your side that had you wincing the second you stretched your arms.

You inhaled slowly, trying to push past it as you moved around the kitchen. You’d dealt with worse. You’d gotten through worse. This? This was fine. You were fine.

The sound of footsteps reached your ears before you saw him. Niragi.

You didn’t even have to look. His walk was loud, uneven, slightly off-balance—but still full of arrogance. You knew he had to be hurting, but he carried himself like he wasn’t.

You understood that. You did the same.

He stopped next to you at the counter, peering over at what you were doing. You could feel his presence before anything else—his heat, his height, the way he took up space without even trying.

“You’re up early.” you said, glancing at him.

He didn’t answer, but he sstayed next to you, close. Close enough that his arm brushed yours when you moved, close enough that when he leaned in—pretending to check what you were making—you could feel the warmth of his breath near your neck. He bumped your shoulder, even. An accident. Maybe.

You glanced at him again, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t even look at you, just continued watching your hands, close enough now that you could feel his body heat.

Something about it made you smile.

Niragi was shameless. The way his gaze dropped to your tits as you leaned forward slightly, the way he lingered at your side, subtly drinking in your warmth like he didn’t know how to ask for it.

And maybe he didn’t.

You just let him.

After all, you liked company. And you liked him.

“If I told you to wake Chishiya up, you’d say no, wouldn’t you?” You asked him.

He let out a low hum, tilting his head slightly. “Obviously.”

“Of course.”

Not that it mattered. Because Chishiya was already awake. You heard his footsteps before you saw him.

“Good morning.” you greeted, your voice gentle, warm. You smiled at him, not expecting a response but offering it anyway.

Chishiya didn’t react at first, only letting his gaze flick between you and Niragi.

Ah.

He noticed.

He saw the way Niragi was standing too close, his shoulder brushing yours, his body subtly angled toward you like he was drawn in without realizing it.

And he understood it immediately.

A dog. Niragi was a fucking dog. One that had been kept on a chain for too long, starved of any real affection, biting at anyone who got too close—until someone finally offered him something.

But a dog that had been kicked too many times wouldn’t trust its owner, would it?

No, Niragi didn’t trust you. Not really.

He trusted the fact that you were harmless.

That he could use you without consequence. That you’d let him.

Chishiya could see it so clearly, the way Niragi ate up your attention, the way he leaned into you like he wanted more, testing how much you’d allow.

Pathetic. So predictable.

But then again—if Niragi was a dog, Chishiya was a cat.

Distant. Observing. Keeping his claws hidden until necessary.

And while he didn’t give a shit about you, he cared about being right.

And he was. Again.

Because as he watched you, he saw the subtle shift in your body, the barely-there wince when you moved a certain way, the slight favoring of one side over the other.

You were hurt.

You turned back to the counter, continuing to make breakfast like nothing was out of place, like you hadn’t spent last night holding your side in silence. Like you weren’t hurt at all. Because maybe, if you ignored it, it would go away.

You were always like that, weren’t you? Pushing forward, brushing off your own pain like it didn’t matter. Because there were people to take care of.

Because you were an angel, and they didn’t appreciate you enough.

Niragi was still standing close, watching over your shoulder as you worked, occasionally bumping against you like he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He absolutely was.

His shoulder hit yours again, a slow, lazy nudge that made you glance up at him. You raised an eyebrow, but your voice was nothing but light. “Are you gonna help, or are you just here to make my job harder?”

“I think you like it.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re a fucking idiot.” he replied, watching the way your hands moved, how carefully you handled everything—like you actually gave a shit about doing things right.

Chishiya was still quiet, watching.

You were too sweet to Niragi. He had already figured that much out, but seeing it like this, watching the way you let him get away with so much, was interesting.

It wasn’t because you were stupid. No, you were too smart for that.

It was because you chose to be kind.

And that was something Chishiya would never understand.

Why?

Why did you care so much?

What did you think you were going to change?

You set the plates down in front of them, soft words, gentle hands, just giving and giving and giving, and neither of them deserved it.

Not even a little.

Chishiya watched the way Niragi ate it up, the smug little glances he shot you when you leaned too close, the way he kept testing how much you’d let him take.

And you just let him.

Maybe you liked it, too.

Chishiya could see how you softened around people. It didn’t matter if they deserved it, you still did it.

And something about that annoyed him.

Because it wasn’t sustainable.

At some point, you’d run out.

And then what?

Chishiya ate slowly, watching the way you moved. The way you held yourself. It wasn’t obvious. You were good at hiding it. But he was better at seeing it.

Your side hurt.

He noticed the way you favored it, how your body instinctively protected itself—shifting slightly when you leaned, never putting too much pressure on one side. You never let yourself stiffen completely, but he could see the small moments, the subtle corrections. You weren’t paying attention to yourself, but he was.

Because he was always five steps ahead.

And you were going to come to him eventually, weren’t you?

You had to.

Because you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could hide it forever. At some point, you’d need him. You’d realize he already knew, and you’d sit down next to him and ask.

“What’s wrong with me?”

And he would tell you.

Because you deserved that.

You weren’t like Niragi. You weren’t some rabid fucking dog who couldn’t control himself, biting at anything that got too close. You weren’t a slave to your emotions, ruled by instinct and nothing else.

You were logical. You thought about things.

And you would think about this.

The question was how long would it take?How long before you realized?

He dragged his spoon through his food, twirling it idly, watching the way Niragi leaned into your space, so fucking obvious it was painful.

What a joke.

Like a dog getting scraps for the first time, like he didn’t even know what to do with it.

You were indulging him.

Why?

Why did you do this?

Why did you let him eat it up like that?

Like he was starved for it.

Like he was owed it.

He wasn’t. Neither of them were.

And yet you still gave.

And gave.

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, tapping his spoon against his plate.

You’d run out eventually. That’s just how things worked. At some point, you would have nothing left to give. And then what?

Would you break?

Would you snap?

Or would you just fade?

He thought about that, about all the different possibilities.

You were more interesting than he expected.

A different kind of game.

And he always liked to win.

You absolutely didn’t come to him for help.

No, of course not. That would be too easy. Too logical. Too expected.

Instead, here you were. Sitting on the couch, fidgeting with something small between your fingers, taking it apart piece by piece.

Chishiya stilled in the doorway, eyeing you for a moment before stepping into the room.

No Niragi.

Finally.

He walked over, dropping onto the couch next to you without a word. His presence didn’t seem to startle you—you didn’t even look up, just continued working on whatever you were dismantling.

It was quiet for a few moments.

Then, like always, you started talking. “Hey, you finally got bored of your room, huh?”

He didn’t answer, just rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, head tipping lazily against his knuckles. He watched the way your fingers worked, turning the tiny object over, pulling at different parts. You weren’t just fidgeting, you were actually picking it apart.

“What’s this?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then back down. “I don’t know.”

“Then why are you taking it apart?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

He didn’t have a response to that. Not because it was a good answer, but because it was just… so you.

You always had to be doing something. Always had to be moving, like a shark that couldn’t sit still or it would die.

It was strange.

You were the calmest person in this room at any given time, and yet you never fucking stopped.

Maybe that’s why Niragi liked you.

Chishiya watched your fingers work for another moment before speaking again. “Where’s the dog?”

You huffed a small laugh at that, but didn’t look up. “Taking a nap, probably. I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

He hummed. Good.

That meant he could have this conversation without the extra noise.

Not that this was really a conversation. It was mostly just you talking.

And talking.

You asked him things. Small things.

What he’d been doing all day.

“Nothing.”

If he was feeling okay.

“Fine.”

If he was bored yet.

“Not really.”

Your lips twitched slightly, like you wanted to tease him for the short answers, but you didn’t. You just kept going. Talking about whatever came to mind. The apartment. How you’d love to decorate it if you could.

“Pink.” you had said with so much certainty.

He had snorted at that. Pink.

“Not, like, a lot.” you had clarified. “Just a little.”

It didn’t matter, he had told you, because this wasn’t a home. But that didn’t seem to phase you.

You just kept going.

Talking, talking, talking.

Like you didn’t even notice how his gaze kept flicking to the way you moved. The way you leaned. The way your body naturally protected itself.

Your side hurt.

He knew it.

But you didn’t say it.

So he did.

“Your side hurts.”

Your fingers paused on the small device, body going unnaturally still. Then, just as quickly, you were moving again, brushing it off. “No, it doesn’t.”

He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. You were not a good liar. That much, he already knew.

“You’re protecting it.” His voice was flat. No emotion. No concern. Just observation. “The way you lean, the way you sit, the way you move. You haven’t even noticed it yourself, have you?”

You sighed, fingers tightening around the object in your hands before you set it down on the table.

He was right. Again.

Chishiya watched as you chewed your lip, like you were debating whether or not to keep pretending.

“Even if it does, it’s not that bad.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Let me look at it.”

Your head snapped toward him, blinking once. “What?”

“Let me look at it.”

Now you were staring at him, brows furrowing. “…Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I can.”

That wasn’t a real answer.

But you weren’t dumb.

He could see the thoughts turning behind your eyes, could practically hear your brain piecing together the facts.

That he was a doctor.

That he knew what he was talking about.

And, most importantly, that if not for you, he might’ve been left to rot on that street.

And Chishiya wasn’t the type to owe people favors.

But this? This was fair.

He saw the moment you realized it too. Your shoulders dropped, and you exhaled slowly, looking off toward the wall.

“Fine.”

Finally.

Without another word, Chishiya sat up properly, gesturing for you to shift toward him. You hesitated, then turned slightly, letting him face your injured side.

“Lift your shirt.” he said simply.

You shot him a look.

He stared back. Unamused.

With a sigh, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up just enough to expose the skin of your ribs.

And there it was. The light bruising. The subtle swelling. Nothing serious. But it was there.

Chishiya pressed his fingers against the side of your ribs, watching the way your body reacted. Your muscles tensed, a small, involuntary twitch pulling through your stomach.

“Tell me when it hurts.” he murmured.

You nodded.

He started at the lowest ribs, pressing lightly, testing the reaction.

Nothing.

He moved higher, fingers working with precision.

Still nothing.

It wasn’t until he pressed closer to your side, near the center of the bruising, that he saw you flinch. Barely. But he caught it.

“Here?”

You hesitated. Then nodded.

He pressed a little firmer, feeling for any deeper injuries, any unnatural movement under the skin. Your breath hitched, and his eyes flicked up toward your face.

Still, you didn’t pull away.

Tough little thing.

He almost smirked.

“It’s not bad.” he told you, pulling his hands away. “No breaks. Probably just a deep bruise. Soft tissue injury. It’ll heal.”

You sighed, dropping your shirt back down.

“Told you.”

Chishiya sat back, watching as you flexed your fingers against your knee, still not looking at him.

This whole thing had been weird.

You let him check you over, eventually. But not because you wanted to.

Because you knew it was fair.

And maybe that was why Chishiya had let you take him in that night, too.

Not because he wanted to.

Because it was fair.

You pulled your shirt back down and exhaled, rolling your shoulders slightly, testing the soreness. Then, softly—so softly you almost didn’t say it—“…Thanks.”

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, watching you. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Your lips pulled into a small, lopsided smile as you leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms over your stomach. “Yeah, I do.”

He studied you for a moment longer before shifting back as well, resting one arm along the back of the couch, fingers tapping lightly against the fabric.

“You hate being taken care of, don’t you?” he murmured.

Your eyebrows raised slightly at the observation, and you let out a small huff. “Says the guy who nearly bled out on the street because he’s too good at mind games to ask for help.”

“You’re right.” he said simply. “I don’t like it either.”

You smiled, though it was more tired than anything. “We have that in common, then.”

He hummed, noncommittal.

You both sat there in silence for a moment, processing in your own separate little worlds, the way you often did.

“…I didn’t even notice it hurt.” you said. “Not really. I guess I was just too busy making sure you and Niragi were okay.”

Chishiya gave you a look.

Not mean. Not mocking.

But something close.

“You do that too much.”

You huffed out another soft laugh. “What, care?”

“Yes.”

You turned your head toward him, arching an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He tilted his head, considering.

Was it?

To him, it was.

To you, it wasn’t.

And that’s what made this so interesting.

“It’s an exhausting thing.”

You sighed. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta do it.”

Chishiya leaned his head against the couch, still watching you. Studying you.

And you let him.

“You don’t think it’s exhausting?” he asked.

You blinked at him. Then you gave him a look. “I never said that.”

Chishiya’s lips pulled into something a little too knowing.

Because there it was.

That crack.

That moment of honesty. The one that told him that despite all your softness, despite all your warmth, despite everything that made you so different from him—you were tired.

But he already knew that, didn’t he?

Because you had a habit of pouring yourself out for people who didn’t give anything back.

And that was something Chishiya would never let himself do. And maybe…that was why he found you so exhausting, too.

You were humming softly, standing by the stove, focused.

Dinner was already planned.

You figured if they didn’t come on their own, you’d go knock on their doors—Niragi first, because he’d act like a brat about it, but he’d come. Chishiya after, because he’d hesitate, but you’d convince him.

You were already plating the food in your head. A little more on Chishiya’s plate. He deserved it after checking you out earlier, even if he acted like it was nothing. He was a good doctor, and you owed him.

The front door opened.

You froze.

You turned, and it was Chishiya. Coming back, from somewhere. What?

Your fingers twitched on the edge of the counter. “…Where were you?”

He glanced up at you as he shut the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I had to play.”

Oh.

Your shoulders stiffened before you could stop them.

You hadn’t even realized he’d left.

When did he leave? How long ago?

Your eyes scanned him. He looked… fine. There was no blood. No limp. No obvious injury.

Still.

“…You should’ve told me.”

Chishiya blinked. His head tilted slightly, almost as if he didn’t understand why you were saying that.

“It’s nothing.” you murmured, turning back to the stove, stirring the food. “I just… got scared for a second. That you left, or something.”

That made him pause. Not because he felt bad, but because it was interesting.

Why would you assume that?

He never gave you any reason to think he’d just leave.

And yet, the fact that you thought it—the fact that you were scared of it—that told him something about you.

“…I had no reason to tell you.”

You nodded.

Yeah.

You knew that.

You knew he didn’t owe you anything.

But you cared.

And he didn’t.

And maybe that’s why you were standing here, stirring food for them, thinking about their plates, making sure they ate, while Chishiya was standing by the door, looking at you like you were some strange creature.

“You get attached too easily.” His voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. Cold in a way that wasn’t intended to be cruel—it was just true.

Your hand slowed over the food, breath catching for just a second.

That was…

Well.

That was a thing to say.

You swallowed, staring down at the pan, feeling his eyes on you.

The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong.

You did get attached easily.

You let people in too quickly, gave them warmth even when they didn’t deserve it—even when they didn’t want it.

And here you were, worried about him, cooking for him, watching the door like a puppy because you didn’t even notice he was gone.

Maybe he had a point.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

You turned to him, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“Then why do you stay?”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t change, but you saw it—the way his fingers flexed in his pockets, the faintest twitch of his jaw.

He didn’t expect you to ask that.

Niragi had a reason to stay. He was healing, recovering from the absolute beating he took. He was too injured to play yet, too injured to run, and deep down—you knew he liked it here.

But Chishiya?

Chishiya looked fine.

If he had any injuries, he was good at hiding them.

So if he really didn’t care, if none of this mattered to him—why was he still here?

“…Because it’s entertaining.”

Your breath left you slowly.

Of course.

Of course that’s what he’d say.

Because what else would he say?

That he felt intertwined to you for dragging his half-dead body out of the street? No. That would imply he felt something like gratitude.

That he felt bad for you, after the way you came home covered in blood? No. That would mean he felt something like guilt.

That he actually liked it here? That he liked you?

No.

That would make him human.

So instead, he stayed because it was entertaining.

That was easier. That was the kind of answer Chishiya gave.

You exhaled, pressing your lips together, nodding slowly.

Right.

You turned back to the food.

“You should wash up.” you murmured. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Like a breath that hadn’t been exhaled yet.

Like something was still left unsaid.

Chishiya watched you for a few moments longer, lingering in the doorway.

BANG.

A door down the hall swung open so violently that it rattled the walls.

“Louder, please.” Niragi’s voice. Flat. Dry. Sarcastic as fuck.

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again, watching Niragi step into view.

He was shirtless, looking wrecked. Like he had just woken up—probably hadn’t meant to in the first place, but his ears were too sensitive for Chishiya’s bullshit.

His hair was a mess, face still lined from his pillow, a half-lidded glare pointed in both of your directions.

The moment he locked onto Chishiya, his expression darkened further.

Like he knew.

He didn’t know what exactly—he wasn’t there. But he knew something had just happened, something between you two, something he was left out of.

And fuck that.

Niragi was already on edge. He always had been.

He couldn’t stand Chishiya. Not just because he was an arrogant, smug bastard who thought he was above everyone—but because he was.

He was smarter. Five steps ahead. Always in control.

And Niragi hated that.

Hated that Chishiya was cold while he was burning alive.

Hated that Chishiya could switch it all off while Niragi felt too much.

Hated that you—you—spoke to him like he was a person.

Like he was worth it.

Like he was more than what he had become.

And Chishiya didn’t deserve that.

So yeah. He woke up to this bullshit and wasn’t happy about it.

Niragi groaned, raking a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes before turning back around, dragging himself down the hall.

SLAM.

You blinked.

Chishiya barely reacted.

You let out a slow breath, glancing over at him, but he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

He had already figured it out.

How Niragi felt everything too much. How it swallowed him alive. How you, somehow, had become a lifeline. How he clung to you like a starving animal.

How dangerous that was.

But Chishiya didn’t tell you.

Because he knew, one way or another… you’d figure it out.

❤︎︎ @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @cherryheairt @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @lizntstoptalking @hellscagee

#alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #aib niragi #niragi x reader

162 notes · View notes

halfbaked00q · 6 days ago

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Yea the like, zing is exactly what I'm thinking lol, like... I don't think a hardline "no pain at all" would rly do it for him. And like we talk about, not all pain is bad pain, it can be a sensation like any other, and ofc the big example is spicy food and etc.

I also love your think about deep muscle massages, I think yes bc it fulfills Bond's needs of (1) Q's intimate hands-on attention (2) seeing to his poor abused muscles & probably may ortho injuries (3) being pummeled to death, esp by Q lol.

And yes yes yes to the trust & security (and being ABLE to give it all up - complete sidebar but and this is why Writing's on the Wall is 100% a 00q song) to Q being as/maybe more intoxicating than the physical sensations. Like he can get physical sensations anywhere, but the high of giving himself over entirely to something. that is, also notedly,. cares for/about him back, and is like, fundamentally non-destructive? whoof. (like he can give himself over to Q&C sure but. in the end they're cold concepts & can't care for him back. unlike Q. who is warm and strong and right there and can & will take him in hand firmly but lovingly)

But re: your additions in the last part yes I think it even holds out in canon? That he craves Q's attention even in the early days and probably not consciously. But it's like. watching the Spectre scene with the way he sidles up to Q. He's not entirely coy about it, but you gotta admit there is just that edge of coyness to it. The man isn't full-on sajiao'ing yet, but. we're getting there.

Re: this note, he was surprised by the jab in Spectre so he reacted a lot, BUT if you compare his Ow in Casino Royale to the one in NTTD. Not to become a fake Body Language expert or anything but ummm Casino Royale: Direct Eye Contact with M, no flinch, no blinking, pointedly looking over at the tech, flat purposeful Ow. meanwhile NTTD: bantering, leaning his head away to give Q better accesss (granted the camera angle is different but it looks like Nomi doesn't quite lean her head away that much, not as much as Bond does; she just kind of tilts her head slightly meanwhile Bond is like, *opens up his entire side of his neck to Q*), the eye close (sorry to bring more cat Bond into this lmao, but as we know with cats!! they don't have to blink their eyes as much so closing their eyes is a sign of trusstt), the. the dang little eyelid flutter he does after it 👀

listen maybe it's Not That Deep; but also, maybe it could be, I got shovels & I'm willing to dig.

one thing I lowkey have been debating w myself is, like, is Bond a masochist slash to what degree. Like other than the self destructive streak stuff. Like, would he be into any sort of painplay.

and I'd soorta but not rly but sorta been swayed to the "maybe not? like his life is so brutal maybe he rly just craves tenderness" camp

and it seemed to make sense esp w how he is with Q vs with other people lmao, but like.. I dunno, it didn't feel like it fully reconciled all of the different aspects we see in canon

anyway, where I've landed now is more on the side of yes, but not like anything too intense or hardcore. But I do think a bit of pain would do it for him. and re: why is he such a baby about it with Q, well. the man is a brat and also importantly, a fckn sajiao king lmao. And Q falls for it every time lmao

Bond just loooooves playing up the "🥺 am baby" with Q lol. Everyone else he's 😎 but with Q he's like Qqqqq.. I have an owie see to me RIGHT AWAYYY pwease or Im gonna DIE 🥺. very cat meowing piteously at her mommy until she spins the wheel for her, even though she damn well can run on the thing herself of him lmao

#but yea to the 'has used it in the past in destructive ways' :')#like. it would be a way to self-flagellate and also a way to like. Prove that he can take it/How Much he can Take #possibly also a stubborn refusal to let trauma rule over him & like. brute-forcing through trauma responses after Le Chiffre :')#but yea I do like the idea of Bond & Q engaging in mild painplay #(and also as you know lol. I'm a bit proponent of Q 'biting you biting you biting you')#there was a fic I read where Q didn't want to do that cuz he was like you've taken enough damage in your life #which is very sweet & I think it was cute in context #but also not 2 be cynical but i was like. man I'd be bored w that. I think Bond would be too #the man is a maniac. his idea of a soft epilogue would still involve some batshit crazy shit #but also a hundo percento Bond would loooove aftercare even if maybe if you tried to talk to him about it first #he'd be like *scoffs* nah that's for OTHER people I don't need it. in a I've got this/I'm soo in control of myself I don't get drop #and/or also I feel like. even if he can 'let go' enough to engage in self-destructive play. it's like. another layer of vulnerability #to accept & partake in aftercare ya know?#like. with taking a flogging he can just sort of go into the same headspace as his training #but aftercare is like... it's not just 'taking it' it's like uncurling your armor enough to let someone in to stroke your soft underbelly #and THAT is at an all-time premium #if we're dealing w a set-up where Bond is resistant to aftercare (oh man. and I do kind of imagine he might be... the tenderness #would *flay* him in a way that an actual whipping wouldn't...)#then imagine Q kind of like. stealth aftercaring Bond lol #and/or working little bits of gentle care into their everyday interactions and tricking him into accepting it #(like when u are trying to tame a semi-feral cat & you lure them in with food and like pet them while they're distracted eating lol)#and you get them used to it and show them hey it's OKAY to be pet and accept affection and also want it & ask for it #but yea once Q cracks open his shell. he's gonna be the *whiniest* clingiest neediest guy about it all lol #I think the difference to outsiders is like. minimal. Like he still acts the same he just whines vocally for it now #instead of sidling up to Q to 'trick him' into showing him attention as if we all don't know what this is about

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midnight-bay-if · 27 days ago

Note

hiii, hope the flu’s gone away even if somewhat, bug my ask is a spin on this ask;

https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-bay-if/768586461085908992/hmhmhm-if-youre-up-for-it-mc-tackling-their-ro

but uh-oh! they CAN’T get up because they’ve been wounded/too damaged TO get up, how would the RO’s react then?

(sorry if i already asked this in some form, i think last time i did was like 4am and much less coherent)

(I wrote these as if the ROs are already in a relationship, but also, I had to make sure the MC showed a sign of life at the end because my emotions have been yo-yo-ing recently, and I don't think I can bring myself to go full pain, haha. I can direct you to this ask for that :) Sorry this took so long!)

S: Initially, It isn't apparent what - or who - hit them. One moment, they were deflecting blows from a particularly pertinent foe; the next, they were on their side, the gravel of the ground cutting into their skin. The burn is enough to distract them initially, but the dead weight on top of them eventually demands an audience. They regret their hesitation almost immediately. "MC!"

They carefully manoeuvre themselves out from beneath you and lay you flat on your back. You are bleeding heavily, and your eyes aren't open. They have already jostled you too much to escape, so they will not try to move you further. "Time to wake up now," they say aloud, ignoring the crack in their voice as they appraise your injuries. "Rain! Call an ambulance!" They trust that their voice carries because they cannot bear to look away from you for even a moment.

They tear at the pieces of their clothing that are thin enough to tear and create tourniquets for the deep cuts on your limbs. It's not enough, but it is all they can do to stem the bleeding. "I'm so sorry, darling," they whisper, reaching down to take your hand, holding it against their chest, ignoring how limp it feels. "I'm sorry I was not quick enough; it should be me... it should be me..."

It is almost too good to be true when they feel the lightest squeeze of your hand against theirs.

Rain: They know it is you almost instinctively. You have always been so brave; of course, you wouldn't think twice about knocking them out of danger. It's who you are. It's one of the reasons they fell in love with you in the first place. But... this?

They see you limp, motionless, and it feels like their heart has been ripped out through their throat. Or maybe that's the feeling of a scream being shredding their throat. "No, no, no, no," they whimper, over and over, as they frantically search for signs of life. It is lucky Selby is beside them because Rain is no longer in control of themselves. The urge to maim, to kill, to seek vengeance is something they learned to push down some time ago, but it all comes back in a rush.

The words "they are still breathing" are all that stops them. Selby rises to get help, leaving Rain alone by your side. Knowing you are still breathing, Rain presses their forehead against yours so they can feel your breath hitting their cheek. "I am here, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

It may have been their imagination, but they are sure they see your lips twitch a smile.

Taj: "Watch it, you lump," Taj gibes, thinking you had mistakenly fallen into them. It's only when you both fall down, and you do not get back up that they realise the severity. You should be arguing with them, telling them it's their fault for not paying attention, or shouting that you are okay. Anything. "MC, get your ass up."

You don't even flinch.

Taj sees red. The person responsible has their throat ripped out before they can take their next breath. "Taj, leave it! Focus on MC!" Selby gives the order, but they do not know if they can. How can they bear to see? What if you are not breathing? What if you have just died protecting them because they were too damn slow?!

It feels as if their heart is being crushed in their chest, but they force themselves to their knees beside you. "MC, wake the fuck up! I'm not kidding!" They shout, slapping your face enough to sting without bruising. When that doesn't work, Taj grabs your hand and holds two fingers against your pulse point. They feel it.

"Keep fighting, koel; I owe you a kick in the ass for doing something so stupid."

N: It all happened so quickly. They had been taunting their latest prey, enjoying watching them squirm beneath their fingers, when suddenly, a scream - your scream - rings inside their head, and they are hurtling across the floor. The pain is nothing compared to the silence that follows.

They twist their head around and see you there, lying still; now it is they who scream. "I forbid it," they whisper, crawling to you with all the will they have left, ready to give it to you - in their blood if they must. When their hand reaches your shoulder, they cup your cheek with the other, your blood soaking their hand. They are about to choke on their grief when they see your chest rising. "You're alive," they whisper, aghast. "Now you stay alive, you hear? I would be awfully put out if you died, my dear. I came a long way to find you; you wouldn't let that be for nothing, right?"

They will wait to hear your answer for however long it takes.

Umbra: They let down their guard. How dare they?! HOW DARE THEY?! Umbra's entire world turns black. For a moment, they return to their natural state: the creature who knows no will of their own, an echo, a weapon... and then they open their eyes. They stand in a puddle of blood of their own making, surrounded by those who dared.

Then, they rush to you with blood-soaked hands, but dare not touch you. Tears in their eyes, they rub their hands against their clothes, but the blood merely smudges, the metallic tang making them gag. "I-- I can't, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Umbra doesn't know what they meant to say. They only wish to make it stop. To make it all stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were not supposed to do this. This is for them. Not you. Not this. "I am scared."

Death is easy; loss is unconscionable.

Then, they see it; your chest rises with a breath. "Yes! Breathe!" They laugh hysterically, finally grabbing your hands in theirs. "I- I do not know how to make it go away, so I will get help. You are going to be okay; I promise."

(P.S. It is very difficult to write when a cat is adamant that your seat is theirs.)

#ask answer #taj #umbra knight #nazu raumon #naera raumon #simon selby #rain #simone selby #interactive fiction

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obsessive-clown · 4 months ago

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𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖢𝖫𝖮𝖶𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖢𝖠𝖭𝖮𝖭𝖲 -

a/n: i’ve only seen a few of these posts and wanted to do one myself. i just see a lot of them sort of make art softer than expected. i also probably wrote too much and just pulled a word-vomit move.

TW - stalking, manipulation, (attempted) nsfw/nsfw mentions, bodily harm, imprisonment, torture, murder, slightly straying away from the original (softer) yandere trope, Art the clown himself is a warning.

ﾒღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღﾒ

For starters, just like every Yandere, Art is naturally possessive and obsessive of you. How he finds you is completely up to you and your imagination, but after he does, something in his immortal body compels him to follow you. And stalk you. Because it feels different from his normal ‘stalk & kill’ routine, he doesn’t understand it, but he certainly doesn’t fight it.

It starts off ‘innocent’. Art follows you around (mainly at night), or he manages to worm his way into your home without you knowing (or with you knowing, he doesn’t care). This really doesn’t last long though because of his nature as a serial killer. Art will absolutely lose the sweet façade and begin harassing you in every sense of the word.

What you call harassment, Art calls devotion. He leaves little notes around your house, whether it’s on paper or written in blood (from his most recent kill) depends entirely on his mood. Typically, Art’s notes will consist of smiley faces and hearts accompanied by weird comments like “YOU SMΣГL ИIСЕ :)” or “YOυЯΣ CυτΣ ωΗEИ УOυ SΓEΣΡ!! :)” in messy writing. This also includes “gifts”, which mostly consist of dismembered parts of his victims, but mainly their hearts. He simply wants to show how much he ‘loves’ you.

Art, without a doubt, manipulated you to “date” him. When you first shoved him away in that aspect, his goofy and playful act cracked and withered away in an instant. You don’t want him? Why not? He’ll make you eat those words.

You’ll find yourself taped down to a chair in an odd (gross) looking basement one day. Only to be greeted with the sight of any loved one you hold closest, hung upside down and ready to be sawed in half (just like Dawn!). Art WILL make you watch and he won’t stop unless you insist and assure him that you will go out with him. Even then, he’ll still maim that special person within an inch of their life.

Art allows you to choose where you want to be: The warehouse he chooses to hide away in at times or your house. He knows where you live and can get in with ease. Not only that but he can visit you in your dreams, so either way, you’re stuck with him.

Extremely touchy and affectionate. Art is EXTREMELY touchy towards you. His affection is based on how you treat him and what kind of mood he’s in after a long day of ‘work’. He’s always clingy and attached to your hip when he gets the chance though. He constantly wants to touch you — and he wants you to do the same. He expects you to give him some sort of affection or attention, in fact, he demands it. Your touch is reassurance to him and if you’re not willing to give it to him, he automatically thinks you’re disobeying him or planning on leaving him.

Art punishes you, that’s just a fact. Maybe he’ll starve you for a day, maybe he’ll lock you in a dark basement for several days. If you try to leave him and run off somewhere with anyone, there’s rope tied to a pipe in a particularly dark and cold room waiting for you. Even when he locks you away, though, he can’t leave you alone so expect plenty of visits from him.

Art loses his temper with you, he does with everyone. Even if he has an extended patience with you, it still wears thin. He’s a demon, he has no morals, so he will hurt you. Killing you is out of the question, but hitting you or throwing some sort of ridiculous tantrum and you getting caught up in it is bound to happen. If you’ve done something particularly terrible in his mind, he’ll try out a new blade he made on your skin. It’s okay though, because he’s doing it, in Art’s mind, only he’s allowed that luxury.

Art is softer with you than anyone else. He’ll limit his strength (when he isn’t lashing out or upset with you) to an almost pitiful degree. That won’t stop him from randomly doing things to annoy you, though.

Art will most definitely steal your clothes. If he knows he’ll be gone for an extended period of time, he’ll steal a dirty shirt or anything he can get his hands on. Just as long as it smells like you, he’s happy. Your scent is comforting to him and as grotesque and unhygienic as he is, he will NOT let that piece of clothing get dirty or tainted by the blood of a victim.

When Art allows you some freedom (because he remembers he can, in fact, just stalk around and linger near you like a shadow) he leaves bite marks on your skin. Preferably, on your neck. You’re HIS and he wants everyone to know that.

Art kisses you every time he leaves to go on a murder spree! It’s something so small and domestic that it can go over anyone’s head, including yours. But he does it all the time.

Art would find any opportunity to spend some quality time with you, even if you want it to be strictly non-sexual/violent. So, he’ll come up with some things. He’d love to do your makeup, his favorite being his clown makeup on your face. He just can’t get over how much he loves you looking like him. He also loves teaching you about the weird weapons he decides to make and he even encourages you to come up with your own and work on it with him.

𝖭𝖲𝖥𝖶 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖢𝖠𝖭𝖭𝖮𝖭𝖲 -

(This is a personal headcannon/thought) Art can change his sex/genitalia to your liking. He’s a demon, after all. Just as long as you’re happy and he’s happy, he’ll do what you want, when you want, how you want it. So, whether he’s stuffing himself inside you or vice-versa, he doesn’t care.

This man is a top. Art will try being a switch for you, it doesn’t always work, but he still tries. He loves being in power, it definitely turns him on more, especially when you willingly give him control and that power he craves. If you top him in one of the rare occasions that he lets you, expect him to act ‘whiney’. Or just honk his clown horn at you in the most bratty fashion you can imagine, simply because he believes he should be babied and taken care of gently afterwards, just like he (tries to do) does for you afterwards.

He steals your underwear when he’s gone for extended periods of time (this is def tied to the normal clothes stealing, but he sneaks a pair with him and shoves it in his plastic bag). And, because this is Art we’re talking about, it is most definitely a used pair and, if he can help it, a pair you’ve came in. Perfect jerk-off material to hold him over until he can get back to you and have the real deal instead of some stupid clothing.

Missionary, Cowgirl, Mating Press, it doesn’t matter, Art LOVES seeing your face during sex. Something about seeing your face scrunch up when he gets rough or any sort of pout you make when he manages to pull an umpteenth orgasm from your already overstimulated body just makes it infinitely better for him. And it makes him hard again because he knows only he gets to see these reactions.

While Art has no intentions or real interest in becoming a parent in the slightest (<- if you’re a female/female identifying of course), he definitely has a breeding kink. The risk is rather exhilarating in a sense for him and he’ll never pass up a chance to fuck you and fill you silly. After all, he loves leaving bits of him on you. Or in you, in this case. Oh, and he’ll force you to wear underwear after that simply because he doesn’t want his seed leaving you — plugging you up with a sex toy works for him, too, he just wants to keep a part of him with you for as long as possible.

Art LOVES seeing you cry, he definitely has Dacryphilia. He’s a serial killer who loves seeing fear in his victims eyes after all. Making you whine and literally cry as he rams into you aggressively (just to get you to shed some tears) is probably one of his favorite things because he can kiss — or lick — the tears off your face as a form of a silent, makeshift, half-assed apology.

‘ART WAS HERE’ or anything that says ‘ART’S’ with a word that is more than likely objectifying or deeming you as property of sorts has been carved into your skin without a doubt. He did it the very first time you agreed to have sex with him too — and he was nice enough to pick where you wanted it to be. His favorite spots to put it would likely be your hip, just above your ass, your ribs/side (just under your chest) and a little below your bellybutton. He’ll still let you pick though, because he loves you too much to not give you the power to do so.

Art has a thing for shoving his fingers in your mouth. For some reason, your scary clown partner loves to pop a finger or two in your mouth while fucking you ruthlessly. His finger(s) will graze over your teeth, the sides of your mouth and then your tongue before pulling his hand away and licking any and all spit he’s collected, off his fingers. He absolutely loves the way you taste — which also explains why he’ll give you head without a second thought.

Period. Sex. He’ll insist on it. Art knows how painful cramps can be and how sex can definitely fix that… Not to mention, he loves seeing the blood coat his skin.

Giving him head is like a game of Russian roulette. Art loves when you do it, he’ll even honk his horn at you until you agree to do it and sit under his ‘work’ desk that’s full of make-shift weapons to pleasure him while he works. The downside though, is that he has a habit of shoving your head down further for extended periods of time — to the point where you almost pass out — and only lets you up and silently giggles as his shoulders bounce when you’re on the brink of passing out. (There is no real upside, he just loves to toy with you as you do it and push you around for the hell of it).

Art BEGS for you (with a sad pout and a little honk of his horn) to cockwarm him when he gets back home from ‘work’ at the late hours of the night or when you’re getting ready for bed. Yes, an hour is far too long to be away from you (and not in you) and no he will not be okay without it. So what if you’re about to go to sleep, can’t he be comfortable too?

ﾒღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღﾒ

a/n 2: sorry if this is shit, i was writing when i could during a busy day and kept getting distracted. i’m also not good at writing nsfw and typically am uncomfortable with writing it lmao. hope you liked this anyways.

TAGS FOR THOSE WHO WANTED TO BE TAGGED: @bloodytittiez

#obsessive clown writes 🌀#art the clown #terrifier #terrifier 2 #terrifier 3 #y/n x slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x you #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #art the clown headcanons #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #shitpost #idk how to tag this #i don’t like this #why did i make this

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yourlovelywriter · 25 days ago

Text

Bewitched by you? (Pt 1)

Lilia x reader…

Slow burn guys.. a little spicy later. 👀

(Mommy kink, angst, jealousy, panties, unusual use of said panties..)

———————————————

I adjusted the collar of my blouse for the third time, frowning at my reflection. “It’s just a job,” I told myself. “A weird job, but still just a job.”

The words didn’t do much to settle the nerves twisting in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why I was so anxious—maybe because I still couldn’t believe I’d actually been hired. When I first saw the listing for an assistant at Lilia’s shop,

I assumed it was a long shot. I had no experience in the mystical or magical, unless you counted binging astrology videos at 2 AM. But apparently, that hadn’t mattered.

Even people who rolled their eyes at tarot and spells knew her name. Some called her a fraud, others swore she was the real deal. Either way, she had power—the kind that made people lean in when she spoke and shiver when she looked at them too long.

I grabbed my bag and took a deep breath. Whatever was waiting for me inside that shop, I’d just have to handle it. Even if my new boss was a little…unpredictable.

The entire walk to the shop, my thoughts raced. What if I messed up? What if she could see things about me just by looking at me? Would she know I was nervous? Would she care?

The storefront was just as strange and dramatic as I’d imagined—deep purple paint, gold lettering on the windows, and a wind chime that jingled even though there was no breeze. A small wooden sign hung on the door, hand-painted with the words “Fate Awaits Within.”

I hesitated. Maybe I should turn around. Maybe I should—

The door swung open before I could finish the thought.

A woman stood in the doorway, her dark eyes fixed on me like she had been expecting me exactly at this moment. She was tall, effortlessly elegant in a yellow-orange wrap dress that hugged her curves, with grey waves of hair cascading over her shoulders. She was the kind of beautiful that made you feel unbalanced, like you’d forgotten how to stand properly.

You’re late,” she said, even though I wasn’t.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. She arched a perfectly shaped brow, then gave a slow, knowing smile.

“Come in, Y/n,” she said, stepping aside. “Let’s see if you’ll last the day.”

I swallowed hard and walked inside, feeling like I had just stepped into something far bigger than a simple job.

The moment I stepped inside, the scent of incense wrapped around me—something warm and spicy, like cinnamon and clove, with a hint of something I couldn’t place. The air felt heavier in here, charged, as if the walls themselves held secrets. Dim lighting flickered from candles perched on shelves, casting soft shadows over the deep emerald walls.

I barely had time to take it all in before Lilia shut the door behind me. The click of the latch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Come on,” she said, her voice smooth, effortless, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

She moved through the shop with the kind of grace that made it impossible not to follow.

I hurried after her, weaving between displays of tarot decks, glass cases filled with polished stones, and a large circular table where a spread of cards lay waiting, as if a reading had just been interrupted

Lilia swept through a beaded curtain at the back, and I pushed through behind her, stepping into a sunlit office that felt different from the rest of the shop.

Papers and books cluttered a desk by the window, among scattered crystals and an abandoned coffee cup. A sleek black cat stretched across one corner, lazily cracking open one eye before deeming me unworthy of further attention.

“This is your desk,” Lilia says, nodding toward a small wooden table near the window. “You’ll handle calls, appointments, and whatever else I decide to throw your way.”

I straightened. “Got it.”

She gave a slow, almost amused smile. “We’ll see.”

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed, she studied me. I felt the weight of her gaze like she was seeing through me, past the résumé, past the rehearsed answers.

“So, Y/n,” she said, voice softer now, but no less commanding. “Why are you here?”

I blinked. “Um…because you hired me?”

She let out a quiet hum, tilting her head like I’d just confirmed something she already suspected. “No,” she murmured. “Why are you here?”

The question sent a strange chill through me. “I—I needed a change.”

Lilia arched a brow, like she wasn’t convinced. “Maybe.” A pause. Then, with a knowing smile: “Or maybe, you were always meant to walk through that door.”

A shiver trailed down my spine, but before I could respond, she pushed off the desk and turned toward the door. “Come on,” she said, already moving. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

I exhaled slowly, ignored the feeling curling in my stomach, and followed her back into the unknown..

———————————

Hehheheheheh… anyway… this is supposed to be a slow burn but I don’t know if it’s any good.. might just abandon it. But yeah… anywho.. she’s so cute I love her.. 😍

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #lilia calderu x reader #fanfic #agatha harkness #patti lupone #I love her #sit on my face #jealousy

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chrystal-ink · 2 months ago

Text

Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!

Shadow X GN Reader

Merry Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house

not a creature was stirring not even a chao.

The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more

And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.

the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed

with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.

and that my dear reader sets the scene,

for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.

🎄

Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.

your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.

"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.

"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.

"Is that really today?"

"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"

"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."

"very well love, take as long as you need."

You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.

"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.

"How would you like me to help?"

"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"

"Consider it done"

The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.

After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.

The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.

after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.

Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.

That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.

"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked

"The best" you responded

"I'm glad you think so."

Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.

"Merry Christmas Shadow"

"Merry Christmas Y/N"

Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.

Much love,

-Chrystal

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #advent calendar #shadvent calendar

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kromeihl · 8 months ago

Note

Hii! Can i request a drabble of ken sato being japan’s spider man ? (Of the scenario given below)

(It’s like peter parker and gwen kinda of love, where the reader is like gwen or whatever you would like to present her c: )

That one scene where peter is injured and gwen sneaks him in her room and then tends to his wounds while peter is just downright SMITTEN and distracted like omg 😩. And then they discuss that he should stop the lizard (in this case the kaiju) etc etc. like that scene! (I hope you know this scene from the amazing spider man- 😅)

IM SO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST IS TOO LONG— i just love your work! And i got inspired to request this because of that post where you were like “omg imagine he was spider man—“

Anyways- love you lodes ! Xoxo

Omg I love the amazing spider man?! Seeing you guys request literally brings joy to my heart. 🫶🏼 Don’t apologize for a long request you can keep it coming, honey. ☺️ Reqs are always open! I’M SORRY IF IT DIDN’T TURN OUT THE WAY YOU WANTED IT TO BE😭 (Wanna read a Kenji fic on wp?👀 -> Bloop. Yes, I am promoting myself. Header by @/cafekitsune. IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY IDEAS ON POSTING KENJI SATO IN A SPIDERMAN SUIT OR WHATEVER IN THIS STORY INSPIRED YOU TO DO IT, TAG ME RIGHT AWAY IF IT’S ON TIKTOK GAWH DAMN TAG MEMEME @kromeihl)

TRUTH BENEATH THOSE SCARS

-> SPIDERMAN!KENJI SATO X READER

WARNING(s): NOT PROOFREAD, Mentions of injuries, blood, a bit of cursing, a lil’ suggestive ;)

I type away in my laptop, finishing a project I was given, to publish soon. It was a newspaper article about Spiderman, of course. I couldn’t help but laugh silently knowing I have to act suspicious about his identity as I type down words.

I hear a loud tap coming from my window, I shook my head knowing it’s probably just some birds, continuing to type. After a few seconds a knock came back, a little louder this time.

I sigh, turning my chair to look, noticing it was him, Kenji Sato. I smile, turning my chair back as I continue to type. “The window’s open, Ken! Come in, I’m just finishing off this article.”

You hear the window open, no response from him. That was weird, he’d usually reply after you speak, cracking a joke or distracting you from your work.

“Ken?” You call out, about to look but still typing, feeling a bit weird from the silence. You hear a small thud, making you stop typing, looking at him as he struggles to sit on the couch. You notice the blood on the side of his forehead.

He could go back home to get tended but of course he chose to come to you. Is he really there for you to help him or something..More?

You quickly rush to him, hitting your leg on the chair in the process, falling on the floor. Kenji couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the pain on his chest making him wince.

“Stop laughing!” You say, embarrassed, quickly getting up to check up on him. “What happened?” You look at him worriedly, seeing the big scratch on his chest, that tore up his suit. “Kaiju attack..” He struggles to say, leaning his head back on the arm of your couch.

“Why the heck can’t you just sit properly?” You mutter, your hands shaking at the sight of his bloody injury. He chuckles, “You’re really scolding me right now? I need some help, ya know?” He teases, moving his hand to your wrist.

“I’m okay, stop shaking.” He smiles softly, earning a sigh from you as you tried to calm down. “Right.” You say, before hearing a knock from your door. I curse silently, searching for my mini refrigerator.

I quickly run to it, opening it as I grab a cold can of soda. “Here, uhm.. Maybe it’ll stop the bleeding for a while?” You panic, giving him the can of soda as he quickly moves away from the couch, hiding, just incase the person that knocked will come in.

I walk up to the door, glancing at Kenji before opening the it slightly. “Heyyyy, Ami!” Kenji furrowed his brows at your greeting, right, you were best friends with Ami Wakita, the person that interviews him way too much when he’s out with his other job, a famous baseball player.

“Chiho wants to play with y—“

“Sorry. I can’t I’m busy!” You say, slightly raising your voice, after an awkward silence, you lean your body against the door frame, one hand holding the door behind for it to stay in place.

“I mean..The project you gave me is just sooo difficult! I just need to work really hard and think. I need to publish it as soon as possible!” You say, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll play with Chiho tomorrow morning! I can babysit her, if you want.” You smile sheepishly.

Ami gives you an amused look, “Uhm, okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen. Do you wa—“ “I don’t need anything!” You quickly cut off, laughing awkwardly afterwards. “I could just bring it into your room—“ “Nope! All good, thanks Ami!” You smile, earning a nod from her.

“Uhm..No worries, [Name]. Good night.” She smiles before leaving. “Good night!” You close the door after, locking it. You glance at Kenji who was still behind the couch, now drinking the can of soda.

“Kenji!” You scold, going to him as you try to grab the soda which he swiftly moved away. “What? You gave me a soda, might as well drink it.” He shrugs, drinking the can again as you pull away.

“Seriously? Drink water!” You huff, walking to your cabinet, finding a cloth, towel, bandaid, and some ointment. “Says the one who drinks anything but water.” He retorts, sitting back on the couch improperly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh, grabbing a chair as you place it in front of him, placing the things you got on your lap. You brush away his hair, holding it in place as you grabbed the wet towel and gently wiped the blood off his face. He winces from the pain, closing his eyes.

You can’t help but stare at his face, he’s incredibly handsome.. And knowing he was a famous baseball player, surely a ton of pretty girls would agree. Your train of thoughts cut off as Kenji smirks, making you realize that you’ve been staring for too long.

“Like what you see?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “No.” You say after, “Then you probably love it then.” He chuckles, making you deepen the towel on his head. “Owww!” He whines, grabbing your hand as he pulls you in making your upper body, lay on his chest.

“Don’t do that.” He says in a stern voice, making your cheeks heat up. “Gosh,” You clear your throat, sitting back up as Kenji moves his hand away from yours. “Come on, let’s hurry. You need to defeat that Kaiju.” You say, putting the ointment then placing a bandaid on his scar.

“Yeah. yeah.” He says, removing the upper part of his suit so you could tend his injury. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight in front of you, he slowly puts his hand on your head. “Come on, you could see more of that later.” He teased.

You slapped his hand away, grabbing the towel as you softly wipe away the blood. He sigh, feeling relief, yet pain still present as you move the towel around his bloody chest. He stares at you for a moment, your messy hair, pretty face, your hands so gentle as you help him.

“You’re gorgeous..” He mumbles, earning a glance from you, “Hm?” You say, gaze back on his wound. “N—Nothing.” He stutters, before clearing his throat. There was a peaceful silence between you, the sound of you wiping was the only noise present.

He felt his hand move towards your face as you start putting ointment on his wound, gently putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You freeze, shivering at his touch. He slowly puts his hand back, continuing to stare right at you.

You notice his longing gaze, yet continue, to finish tending his wound. After a while, you were finally done, him wearing his suit properly again. He groans, adjusting himself on the couch. You put away the things as you gave him small glances.

“Thanks, [Nickname]. You’re the best.” You felt your heart beat fast, walking back to the chair as you smile softly. “No problem, just.. Be more careful, okay? I don’t want you sneaking in my room all injured again.” You huff, earning a soft laugh from Ken.

“You should go.” You say sadly, “I don’t want to.” He declines. “You should. The city needs you.” You look away, feeling disappointed of how you were pushing him away now. “I need you.”

You felt your heart drop at his words, mouth agape as you couldn’t find words to speak. He has that signature cocky smirk of his, plastered on his face as he gently sits up, slowly moving his face towards you. You felt a hand on the back of your head as he caresses it gently.

“N—No. You need to go back to the city. The kaiju will— I mean, it might—“ You stutter feeling him slowly closing in the distance between your lips, his other hand gently placing it on your chin, his thumb brushing your bottom lip softly.

“Let the KDF handle it for a while, I need a reward for being such a great superhero. And you need one for being so good to me.” He says before closing in the gap between your lips. You melt into his touch, feeling your hand snake around his neck as he pulls you in closer.

It took a while before you both pull apart, panting for air as he moves away your hair from your face. “Bug boy” you mutter, smiling at him. “Hm?” He smirks, his arms slowly moving on the sides of your chair, leaning down as you move your body backwards.

“Pretty girl.” He smiles, making your cheeks heat up. You both hear the Kaiju screeching, making you both wince from the loud sound. Kenji groans, making you laugh. “Great timing, I was just getting started.” He sighs, standing up as he walks to the window.

“Stay safe, Spiderman.” You smile, earning a grin from him, he pecks your lips one last time. “Lucky charm.” He winks before putting on his mask, spiderweb coming out from his hand.

“I’ll be back.” You look at him surprised before he leaves, making you look at his figure, slowly disappearing into the city.

“See you, Ken.”

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman x reader #ameijamsultraman👾#spidermankenji

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kenannlovee · 4 months ago

Note

can you maybe make a fic where kenans girl bestfriend tries to push kenan away from the reader by showing kenan a picture where the reader is kissing another. So he breaks up with her but later finds out that the picture is not real. End with fluff please!

Also I missed your fics sm 🤍

✧HIS FRIEND/pt.1✧

One day Kenan was having a conversation with his girl best friend,who suddenly showed him a picture on the phone.

"Kenan check this out"she said with a sly smirk.

Kenan took the phone and saw his girlfriend,YN, kissing someone else.He felt a pang of hurt and anger."Wha-what is this..?"he asked ,his voice shaking.

"I thought you should know the truth about your girlfriend",his girl best friend replied feigning"She's been cheating on you Kenan"Kenan's mind was reeling.It couldn't be true.He loved YN and trusted her completely.But the picture was so convincing."How did you get this picture?"he asked still holding onto hope.

"I saw them together myself" his girl best friend lied through her teeth."They were all over each I just had to take a picture to warn you"Kenan was torn.He couldn't believe that YN would cheat on him,but the evidence was staring him in the face "I don't know what to do"he mumbled, scrolling through the phone to find YN's contact."

You have to brake up with her"his girl best friend urged him"You can't be with someone who cheats on you.You deserve better"Kenan hesitated but the pain in his chest was too much to bear.He dialed YN's number and waited for her to answer

"Hey,love"YN answered in a cheerful voice."Hey.."Kenan said,his voice flat and emotionless"We need to talk"."Okay,sure"YN replied picking up on the seriousness in his tone."Is everything alright?""Not really can we meet up?""Yeah,when and where?"How about now at the park near my place?" Kenan suggested, already feeling the weight of what he had to do.

"Okay I will be there see you soon"YN said her voice lanced with concern.Kenan hung up and took a deep breath he couldn't believe he was about to do this.He was about to break up with the person he loved the most.

He met up with YN,and they sat down on the beach she could tell that something is going on by the look on his face."What's going on Kenan?"she asked reaching out to take his hand"You're scaring me". Kenan pulled his hand and took put his phone and showed her the picture"Is this real?"he asked his voice barley above a wishper.

"YN looked at the picture her eyes widening in shock."What?no,of course not!"she exclaimed "Is photoshopped!""It is?"Kenan asked his voice hardening"It looks pretty real to me".YN looked at him with pleading eyes. "Kenan I would never cheat on you,I swear.That picture is fake!"

Kenan wanted to believe her,but the imagine planted a seed of doubt in his mind"How do I know for sure?"he asked his voice lanced with skepticism.YN took her phone out and started to scroll through her gallery."Look,I have plenty of pictures of us together,see?"she said showing him series of happy pictures of them kissing, laughing and cuddling.Kenan looked at the pictures,and his heart softened a bit.But the doubt still lingered"What about the guy in the photo?"he asked pointing at the picture of the person that in was YN kissing.

"I don't know"YN said tears starting to show up in her eyes."Is not real,Kenan.I swear please believe me""I want to believe you YN,but how can I trust you after seeing this?"he said his voice shaking.YN looked at him her eyes filled with desperation."Please,Kenan don't do this.You mean so much to be Don't let a stupid photo to destroy what we have

"Kenan felt like he was being torn apart.He loved YN more than anything but the doubt and pain was overwhelming"I don't know what to do,I don't know what's real or not" he said his voice cracking with every word that escaped from his mouth."I'm real"YN said,tears streaming on her face"I'm right here,and i would never do something to hurt you.Please Kenan I love you so much".

"I need some time to think"he said getting up from the bench.YN stood up and grabbed his arm"Please don't go let's talk about this,we can work this out"r"I can't think straight right now, I need some space"He walked away leaving YN alone in the park tears streaming down her face.

As he walked back to his apartment,feeling like his world was crumbling around him.The photo was a constant reminder of what he saw and he couldn't shake it off no matter He sat on his bed his mind swirling with conflicting emotions.On one hand, he loved YN and wanted to believe her but on the other hand,the photo was a proof that she could betray him.Hours passed and Kenan couldn't come to a decision.As night fell his phone buzzed with a message.It was from YN"Please,talk to me"it said.He started at the message,his finger hovering over the replay button.Part of him wanted to talk with her,hear her side but, the other part just wanted to throw his phone across the room.

The phone buzzed again. Another message from YN"I love you so much.I would never hurt you.Please believe me"Tears stung Kenan's face as he read the message. The pain in YN's voice was obvious. He loved her too and the thought of hurting her was tearing him apart.He couldn't take it anymore.He needed to talk with someone,get some perspective on the situation.He picked up his phone and dialed the person who showed him the photo in the first place.

His girl bestfriend..

Hiii hope you liked the first part and if you have any ideas or if I should change something please tell me:33

XOXO

#kenan yildiz x you #juventus #kenan #kenan yildiz #kenan yildiz x reader #readerxkenan #juve #football #football x reader #football x y/n #fem reader #imagine

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bluecollarmcandtf · 8 months ago

Text

Fast Food Snack

My story starts with a close, but I'm hungry...

An intimidating glare from the baggy-eyed manager tells me to back the fuck off, but I have no intention of leaving. I'm starving and this asshole has no idea who he's staring at! After all, how could an old fast-food worker named Darryl know that I just discovered the ability to control dumb little minds like his?

"Open up," I say, licking my lips at the feeling of inserting myself into his head.

Mind control isn't like how it's portrayed in movies. I don't just snap my fingers and bring victims into a vacantly drooling state. No! It's much more invasive than that, and it's much, much more unpleasant for my poor targets. Imagine a sickeningly stiff presence pushing through the back of your skull. It shoves your own ideas and intentions aside, ripping away the control you had over your body. You probably always took that control for granted, but now you can't cause so much as the blinking of an eyelid. Most people spend their time in my thrall screaming internally.

Being sidelined in your own body takes some getting used to, and Darryl isn't enjoying it in the slightest. Nevertheless, I use his hands to unlock the front door and invite myself inside.

"Please, come in," I make his gravelly voice speak, "Can I suck your dick as an apology?"

I feel the man cringe on the inside. He hates hearing and feeling his own mouth make such a vulgar offer, but his stoic face doesn't crack. This idiot is trapped inside his own mind while I get to puppet around his body. I don't even have to tell him what to do.

"Maybe later," I pinch the manager's cheek, "Let's get you deep-fried and seasoned first."

With a vice grip on his brain, I steer the fast-food worker off to do my bidding. Humiliating my playthings is the perfect appetizer...

Darryl spends the next few minutes collecting all the leftover food from the garbage, dumping it all over himself. The manager doesn't stop there, proceeding to lay on the floor and rub all the grease and ketchup into his clothes. That trademark glare stays frozen on his face the entire time he soaks in the day's old fries and ketchup.

"I'm a messy little bitch," he states blandly from the ground, "And an ugly, dumb, low-life."

His words make me chuckle, even though I'm the one making him say it. My metaphorical arm is rammed up his ass like a ventriloquist with a dummy. It's also me that's puppeting his hands to rub the food into the pits of his polo and the crotch of his khakis.

"You really should've just let me inside," I purr with my own mouth, "Now I'm gonna make you act like a messy bitch forever."

Darryl's face remains unbothered, but I feel the real man panic inside. If he had control over his eyes right now, they would be bulging in pure terror. Instead, they gaze passively back at me from the floor.

"Boss? Where'd you go?" a smooth voice interrupts my fun with Darryl.

A tall, dark, and handsome young man walks out from the back kitchen. His thick arms and bushy beard make me salivate. The name tag on his juicy pec reads 'Josh' but there's plenty of other things I'd rather call a stud like him.

"I thought you said we'd leave early if we got everything cleaned up," he grunts quietly.

The handsome fool is too preoccupied with wiping down tables to notice his manager rolling in grease and condiments. Briefly glimpsing in his mind tells me that he wants to finish his shift as quickly as possible, but I won't be letting him off work any time soon.

He jumps when he finally notices me, startled to find a customer still lurking after closing hours. His scowl shortly returns to his face as he pushes out his chest to address me.

"We're closed. You need-" his voice cuts as I commandeer his heavy body and thick neck.

With me in control, Josh's autonomy is squeezed into a corner of his skull, but he still retains all his senses; feeling his muscles relax, licking his salty lips, taking a deep breath of greasy air, and staring at his new master. I make him walk forward until his bulging chest is brushing against my own.

"I can give you a much better show than that dried-up, old, dishrag," I make him say, gesturing to Darryl with his broad hands, "My man-tits are fat and juicy just for you. Let me be your little slut. Fuck me like the breedable piece of meat I am."

Internally, Josh is furious, but his voice doesn't waver as he delivers the words I wrote for him. He's like a Ken doll I'm playing with, only none of it is pretend.

"I think I'd prefer dinner and a show," I giggle, "Why don't we let that dried-up, old, dishrag fuck your ass. He is your boss, after all."

Josh doesn't visibly react to the idea. He doesn't wince or crack the scowl I'd left on his handsome face. He just marches to the back and lays himself out on the dirty floor. Darryl follows, per the instructions I'm pumping into each of his limbs.

"Give it to me hard, boss," Josh says in a low monotone.

"Prepare for a rough ride, muscle-slut." Darryl answers his employee dryly.

Of course, internally, both men are freaking out. It's hard to tell who's more panicked; the manager who's about to dog-fuck his employee, or the roided up gym-rat who's about to take it like a bitch. Darryl wants nothing more than to pull Josh off the floor and run out of the building, but I hold his body firmly in place, making the man unbuckle his stained khakis like he's about to get lucky. Josh is the same, desperately trying to break free and attack, but I've got full control over his bulky body. I make him stick out his tongue and lick the floor like a pathetically horny animal. He still has to taste every inch.

"Papa's ready for ya," Darryl moans, pulling out the cock I easily inflated to full mast.

"Hurry Papa!" Josh squirms as he thumbs his pants below his wiggling bubble butt.

"What the hell?" a nervous voice stutters.

Turning, I find a much less impressive man walking into the kitchen. His name tag reads 'Aaron' and he must've been bullied into cleaning the bathrooms for the last twenty minutes. He's missed a lot, but it doesn't take long for me to catch him up.

"I'm enjoying a meal here!" I bite, mildly annoyed, "Shut up and make yourself useful."

His mind folds instantly to my efforts, and I know exactly how to put him to use. Aaron snaps his mouth, marches around before me, and kneels. Without a single breath of pause, his hands unzip my jeans and pull out my aching penis. He swallows it whole, bobbing his head expertly. Aaron's never done this before, but I've had a few blow jobs and I know exactly how I like it; with a throat wide open and lips at the base.

"Continue," I sigh in pleasure towards Josh and Darryl.

The pair unfreeze, resuming the messed up porno I'm forcing them to star in. The manager leans into Josh's back and enters him from behind. "You're gonna have to take Daddy's dick every time we close. Got it, boy?" he grunts down at his employee. The bearded stud looks up to his boss, and sucks some of the various condiments out of the man's stained shirt. "Yes, sir. I want to end every day like this, here, with you inside me." Darryl continues slapping his groin into Josh's splayed rear, pushing the younger man's face against the cold damp floor.

It isn't long before Aaron's expert dick-sucking leaves me cumming in his stomach. Finally, I'm satiated. "FfuuuuUUUuuuUucck..." I grunt out a long guttural moan of relief.

When my eyes flutter open, I see the mess I've left in this little restaurant...

The three men stop with the act; Aaron pauses, my dick still halfway down his throat; Josh freezes in the middle of writhing with fake pleasure; Darryl even ceases his brutal rape of his employee despite never reaching a climax. None of it matters anymore. My rocks have gotten off, so my little puppet show is over. I'm left with three terrified fast-food workers with broken wills.

"Sorry guys," I pull away and zip up my pants, "I get a little carried away when I'm horny."

"It's, ok," they all answer back nonchalantly, but I can hear their true thoughts screaming, locked away somewhere in their minds.

With a wave of my hand, I wipe the experience from their memories. I turn off their consciousness and set Darryl, Josh, and Aaron on autopilot. Like actors in a bad hypnotism movie, they rise and get back to their nightly chores. This time, their jaws are slack and their eyes are vacant. They'll finish closing down the restaurant and go home, where they'll scrub themselves clean and get a long night of rest. By tomorrow, all of the psychological and physical remnants of what I've done will be gone.

For them, it'll be like I never set foot inside this place. For me, I'll have to pretend that I didn't just become an evil and sadistic super villain. I never did end up eating any food, but I did satisfy some sort of hunger inside me...

...at least for now.

I let my urges get the better of my powers. Being a mind controller is hard. I can barely even control my own mind at times. Wandering away from the isolated, little, restaurant, I wonder how long it'll take before I lose control of myself again...

To be continued?

#gay mind control #degredation kink #humiliated slave #hypno story #ChaptersofaMindControllerslife

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notiddygothgf · 2 months ago

Text

18. Stained Sheets

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ What would you do if things were different?❞

★ c.w.: LITERALLY pure lovemaking, fluff, talks of the future, a certain position that is the sum of 34 and 35. totally unrevised.

★ a/n: HI MY MUNCHKINS!! as promised, here is the second chapter. I promise, you'll love it (I wrung my brain dry writing this, i love aki sm). Not gonna say too much, but more at the end of the chapter!!!! Keep those comments coming and I'll keep the content coming (lord knows I'll have plenty of time to write it on vacay. typing this on a beach rn btw, its 90 degrees here and 20 degrees back at home).

★ w.c: .7.5k

shameless ; chapter index

YOU AND AKI flopped onto the cushiony surface of his mattress, the analog clock on his nightstand glowing softly in the dim room: 12:58 AM. The faint hum of the city drifted through the cracked window, accompanied by the occasional whoosh of a passing car. The air in his room was cool and faintly smelled of his cologne, something sharp and clean, mixed with the faintest hint of cigarettes.

Side by side, you both lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your limbs were stretched out like a starfish, while Aki had one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other tucked under his head. You huffed out a laugh, breaking the silence, your voice low to match the quiet of the room.

"This week as been... a lot," you muttered, rubbing your hands over your face before letting them flop back onto the bed.

Aki groaned softly in agreement. "Yeah. Feels good to be back in a real bed."

"Did you pick up those meds the doctor prescribed?" You turned your head to glance at him, raising a brow.

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Does nicotine count?"

You groaned dramatically, propping yourself up on one elbow. "You're gonna be so cranky tomorrow when your back hurts, grandpa."

"I'm not cranky," he argued, side-eyeing you with a faint smirk.

"Right, you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine," you teased, poking his arm. "The poster child for positivity."

He chuckled, low and soft, the sound warming the small space between you. "That's rich."

You gasped, feigning offense. "What do you mean?"

Aki turned his head fully toward you, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. "You're pissy as hell, like, half of the time."

"Oh, right, because you're so congenial," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. "You love my attitude."

"I do," he said easily, his smirk softening into something almost fond.

You couldn't help but grin back at him, the playful banter easing the exhaustion that had settled into your bones. There was something about these moments with Aki—small, quiet, and unhurried—that felt like a balm, soothing the edges of a hectic day.

The silence stretched for a beat, comfortable and heavy with the kind of familiarity that didn't need filling. You stared at the ceiling again, your thoughts wandering. "Hey," you said after a while, your voice quieter now. "Do you ever think about stuff like... I don't know, what would you be doing if things were different?"

Aki shifted slightly beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Different... how?"

"Like... no Devils. No Public Safety. Just... normal life stuff."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the ceiling. "I guess I don't let myself think about it much," he admitted. "It feels... pointless, you know?"

"Yeah," you murmured, though your chest tightened a little at his words. "But still. If you could imagine it, what do you think you'd be doing?"

Aki let out a soft breath, almost a sigh. "Maybe something boring. A desk job, maybe. Nine to five, go home, cook dinner, watch TV. Something simple."

"You? At a desk job?" you said with a laugh. "I can't see it. You'd lose your mind."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Probably."

"What about something cooler, like... I don't know, quitting Public Safety and owning a little coffee shop? You could wear one of those cute aprons and everything."

Aki turned his head to look at you, his brow arching in mild amusement. "A coffee shop?"

"Yeah. You'd totally pull it off. You've got the broody, mysterious vibe down already. Plus, imagine all the tips you'd get from customers swooning over you."

His cheeks tinted the faintest pink, and he scoffed, looking away. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm being objective, here," you teased, poking his side again.

He caught your hand this time, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. The sudden contact made your breath hitch for just a second, but you masked it with a grin. "Okay, your turn," he said, his tone shifting as he tried to regain control of the conversation.

"My turn?"

"Yeah. What would you do if things were different?"

You considered for a moment, chewing on your lip. "I'd travel, I think. See the world, eat all the food, meet all kinds of people. Just... live, you know?"

"Sounds nice," he said softly, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your wrist before he let go.

The room fell into another comfortable silence, but this time, the air felt heavier, charged with something you couldn't quite name. You turned your head again, catching the way Aki's eyes lingered on you before quickly darting away.

"What?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Nothing," he said too quickly, his voice tight.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "It's not nothing. Spill."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if debating whether to speak. Finally, he sighed, turning fully onto his side to face you. "I was just thinking..."

"Thinking what?" you prompted, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone.

"You look good in my clothes," He looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours, and then, almost shyly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "I could get used to the sight of you like this."

The statement caught you off guard, your eyes widening slightly before you barked out a laugh. "What?"

"I'm serious," he said, the smirk growing. "I could."

You squinted at him, trying to gauge whether he was teasing or not. "Are you trying to make me do your laundry? Because that's not happening."

He shook his head, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up again. "No. I just think it'd suit you. Can't imagine that a woman who can barely cook for herself would be a good homemaker, anyway."

There was something in the way he said it—low, deliberate—that made your cheeks heat. "Oh, yeah?" you said, trying to play it cool. "What's the appeal? Oversized shirt, messy hair, looking like I just rolled out of bed?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart race. "Exactly."

The air between you seemed to shift, the teasing suddenly laced with something more. You raised a brow, determined not to let him fluster you. "You've got a real thing for this, huh?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his smirk softening into something warmer. "Or maybe you'd look better without them – my clothes."

Your breath caught, your brain short-circuiting for half a second. "Aki," you gasped, smacking his shoulder.

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and you couldn't help but join him. It was absurd, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart feel too big for your chest.

The laughter faded, leaving behind a soft, lingering silence. Aki reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling there. His thumb traced a faint line along your skin, and before you knew it, he was leaning in.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then you melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you.

The laughter faded slowly, leaving behind a quiet that felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Aki's hand lingered near your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. His dark eyes searched yours, flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. It was hesitant, almost as if he was waiting for permission, or perhaps the courage, to take the leap.

When he leaned in, it was slow—agonizingly slow. You could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and your own breath hitched, caught in your throat. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Then, finally, his lips met yours.

It started soft, barely there, like he was testing the waters. His lips were warm and a little chapped, and he kissed you with a careful kind of tenderness, as if you might break if he pressed too hard. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, narrowing until the only thing that existed was Aki—his hand on your cheek, the subtle press of his lips against yours, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

As the kiss deepened, the hesitance melted away. Aki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. You felt yourself leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. It was soft and slightly messy between your fingers, and you found yourself smiling into the kiss, overwhelmed by the realization of how much you'd wanted this.

Aki tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further, and a quiet, almost inaudible sound escaped him—a soft sigh that sent warmth coursing through your entire body. His lips moved against yours with a newfound confidence, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. The kiss wasn't hurried or desperate; it was something else entirely. It was an exploration, a quiet confession, a promise.

You broke away for the briefest moment, gasping for air, but Aki didn't let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and uneven, mingling with your own in the small space between you. His thumb brushed along your jawline, a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache (and your stomach feel warm).

You opened your eyes, meeting his. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his usually guarded expression was wide open, unfiltered. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and it made your heart stutter.

Then, without saying a word, he kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent. It was slower, more deliberate, like he was trying to commit the feel of you to memory. Your hands slid down to his chest, resting there as you kissed him back, matching his rhythm. Each touch, each movement felt like a silent conversation, one that didn't need words.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your faces still impossibly close. A laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and giddy, and Aki's lips quirked into a small smile.

"Wait," you murmured, your voice breathy but tinged with excitement.

Aki blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. "What?" he asked, his voice soft, like he was reluctant to break the moment.

You grinned, already sitting up. "I have an idea."

Aki groaned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Why do I feel like this is going to end with me regretting it?"

You shot him a mischievous look over your shoulder as you headed for his closet. "Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me."

Aki's closet was so... him. It was a sea of neatly-pressed sweaters, tees, and shirts – black, white, grey, navy blue, for the most part, with only a few exceptions. You reached for the tie he had hung up there only a few hours earlier, wrapping it around your knuckle.

"What are you doing in there?" He inquired.

With a grin, you hid the wound-up tie behind your back, sauntering back out into the master bedroom.

He looked at you how a mother looked at her child's mud pie – with his brows knitted and the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. Slowly, he asked, "What's that?"

You stepped towards the bed, crawling towards him until you were straddling his narrow waist. He peered up at you through those confused blue eyes of his, but humored you nevertheless. Rather than glorifying him with an answer, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. Then another. By the third, he was reaching for you, and you were prying his hands off of you to pin them to the pillow atop his head.

His eyes widened, glinting with mischief, "Where are you going with this?"

"So many questions," You shushed him. Taking the balled up tie into your hand, you wound it around the headboard of Aki's bed, bringing it back down to wrap around his wrists before finishing it off with a knot. Aki, shockingly enough, allowed you without a word of protest.

He looked pretty all of the time – just to be clear – but you couldn't help but think that he looked prettiest when he was underneath you, hair splayed out over the pillow, face dusted with a pretty shade of pink, eyes half lidded as he awaited your next move.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, lingering just long enough to leave him chasing after you when you pulled back. His breath hitched, and his chest rose beneath you as he tilted his head up, silently asking for more.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you ?" you teased, brushing your thumb over the delicate curve of his cheek.

"Maybe," he murmured, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. His voice was soft, tinged with a slight tremor that betrayed the calm he was trying to project.

You rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, eliciting a soft whine from his lips. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you couldn't resist the urge to do it again, drawing out another gasp as his body tensed beneath you.

"A little excited, are we?" you murmured, lips brushing against his ear.

His cheeks flushed deeper, but he didn't look away. Instead, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours, brimming with a mix of embarrassment and undeniable want. He was harder than a boulder beneath your hips already, and you hadn't done much. He tugged lightly against the tie securing his wrists, testing the knot, but you pressed your palms to his chest, holding him still.

"I didn't say you could move," you whispered, and he let out a shaky exhale, sinking back into the pillows.

When you leaned down to kiss him again, he met you halfway, lips parting eagerly against yours. His breath came faster now, and his head tilted to follow your movement, as if desperate to close every fraction of distance. The soft, needy sounds he made as you rocked against him grew louder, sending a heat rushing through you.

"Patience, Aki," you murmured against his lips, though your resolve was starting to waver. His body beneath yours was intoxicating, the way he moved, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.

"I don't think I have much of that left," he admitted, his voice breaking on a quiet moan as you shifted your weight just right.

You decided to test that theory, dragging your hips back and forth and back again until the two of you were panting like horny teens.

"I want you," He breathed, "I need you."

"Where do you need me?" You asked. Licking his neck, you teased, "Here?" A little lower, near his collarbone, "Here?" Another kiss to his stomach as you continued crawling down, "Here?" And one more just atop the tent in his pants, "...Here?"

He arched up, tented fabric brushing against your cheek so deliciously. "Please, I can't– I..." He sighed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

You pressed another kiss to his clothed cock, which jumped up playfully, tapping your lips like it had a mind of its own. Peering up at him through faux-innocent eyes, you purred, "What? Use your words."

He swallowed, "If you keep teasing me like that," He choked out a laugh while you mouthed at his dick through his pants. "I'm gonna...cream my pants like a fuckin' middle schooler."

"Would that be so bad?" You teased. (And, truthfully, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to see that just a little bit – the picture of his body arching up, eyes rolling back as he came prematurely with a cry of your name).

"Please," He groaned, and you knew exactly what he wanted.

"How about... right here?" You gripped the waistband of his pants, wiggling them down to his thighs. He was sporting a pair of navy blue boxers today – the cotton kind, fabric strained around his erection, stained darker at the tip by the tiniest little wet mark. Bracing your weight on your hands, you leaned down, placing a long, tender kiss to the spot.

Cute, you thought.

You wrapped your lips around the head of it, mouthing hungrily at him through the fabric. He opened his legs a little wider to accommodate you.

"Yes," He panted.

He wants more. You didn't want to keep him waiting. So, teasing your thumb beneath the waistband of his boxers and snapping the elastic against his navel once, you tugged his boxers down, finally freeing him from its confinement.

And there he was. Long and thick and flushed a pretty shade of pink at the tip, just as you had remembered. You wrapped a tentative hand around it, flitting your tongue over the head to collect the pretty little bead of precum that had bubbled up at the top. Once you were satisfied with that, with the salty taste of him, you gave it another lick.

"Don't be a tease," He warned you, though he was smiling the whole time.

Fine, then. You didn't bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Aki exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – it felt like he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and you didn't really think you (or him) would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you – the same way you burned for him.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. You felt him throb in your mouth.

"Fuck, 's good," He whimpered weakly, tugging at his makeshift restraints while you picked up the pace.

Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Until you were gagging on him, eyes watering from the stretch. Until your eyelids were fluttering shut.

He moaned for you – deep and velvety and, suddenly, you couldn't care less about his roommates that may or may not have been within earshot.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that you didn't even mind.

Aki squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. "Fuck," he panted, "You're– God."

You hovered over him, a mischievous gleam in your eyes as your lips wrapped around him. His body tensed, his muscles clenching instinctively under your touch, and his wrists strained desperately against the tie that kept them secured. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to shift beneath you, but there was no escape.

You sucked him into your mouth again, this time more deliberately, lingering longer than before – letting him sit in the back of your throat even though you ached with the strain of it. His stomach twitched beneath you, and you could feel the slight hitch in his breath, his chest rising and falling faster. A small whimper escaped him, muffled by his own lips, and it made your smirk grow wider. His laughter was nervous now, caught somewhere between amusement and helplessness, as your sucking grew harder and more insistent, trailing lower with every press of your mouth.

The hot air on his damp skin heightened the sensation, making him squirm even more. His body was betraying him—each lick, each slurp, teasing touch of your fingers up and down his inner thighs making it harder to hold back the rising wave of pleasure. You could see it in his face—the way his cheeks flushed deeper with each second, the way his breath became shallow, quick.

You didn't stop. Your lips brushed lower still, moving deliberately across his cock, lingering just enough around the base to hear the soft gasp from his lips, the quiet hitching of his breath every time your nose brushed against his navel. His hips bucked involuntarily against the bed, and the restraint of his wrists only seemed to make his movements more desperate. The feeling of vulnerability that hit him so suddenly was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel the rush of satisfaction from the effect you had on him.

Every time your lips met his skin, it was more intense than the last. It was wetter now, a little messier, each movement of your head up and down his shaft seeming to linger just a bit longer, dragging out the sensation of exposure and teasing. You let your tongue flick out, just once, to trace the line of his skin where your lips had been. His body jumped at the contact, and you smiled at the way his muscles clenched in response.

He was completely at your mercy..

His face had turned pink now, the flush spreading across his neck and down his chest. He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from him, but his breath was ragged, his chest heaving beneath you. You could see the embarrassment burning through his attempts to keep himself composed.

He arched slightly, his back lifting off the bed as he tried to pull away from the sensation, but the restraints held him firmly in place. His throat tightened as he stifled another sound, but it escaped anyway—a soft, almost involuntary moan that only made you want to go harder. You could feel the heat of his skin against your lips, and you took your time, savoring each moment of his helplessness.

Before you could continue any further, his voice broke through, low and desperate. "Wait–" His wrists tugged once more against the tie, his body still aching from the restraint, his words barely audible. "Wait, I wanna try something different.

Finally, you paused, lifting your head just enough to let your breath linger over the trail you'd left behind. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded in both frustration and something else—something you couldn't quite place, but you saw it in the way his pupils were dilated, the way his body still trembled beneath you.

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the playful tension in the room seemed to shift. There was a long, drawn-out silence between you, the only sound the echo of his breathing. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way he struggled to collect himself, his body betraying him every time he moved.

"My face," After sufficiently collecting his breath, he nodded, motioning for you to climb back up his torso. "Sit on it."

You relented, sitting back on your heels with a look of playful satisfaction. Your eyes never left him as you studied his flushed face, the way his breaths still came in shallow gasps. There was a brief moment where you almost felt bad—almost—but the thrill of seeing him so vulnerable, so exposed, left you feeling more alive than you had in a long time.

"You want me to..." You swallowed. "On your face?"

"Yeah."

He was quiet for a long moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to steady himself. His face was still flushed that pretty shade of pink, his body still trembling slightly under the aftershocks of the tension. His wrists pulled gently at the tie again, though it wasn't to free himself anymore. It was to center himself, to find the control he had lost in the heat of the moment.

"What if I crush you?" You asked, hesitant to climb up there. Your ex husband was right about one thing – you had certainly put on a couple of pounds. The last thing you wanted was to break his nose, or something like that.

"Then I die a happy ma," He shrugged, pupils dilated, "Sit on my face."

You slowly untied the tie that held him, taking your time, watching him intently as you did. The look on his face was a mixture of relief and lingering frustration, and for a moment, you just watched him breathe, the soft sound of his pants filling the space between you.

"Okay," You sighed. "How do I...? How do we do this?"

"Turn around f'me and back it up," He chuckled. "You can start by taking those pants off."

"You want my ass all up in your face?" You quirked a brow. Still, a little uncertainly, you sat back onto your knees, wiggling your pants down and off of your legs. Then, huffing out a nervous breath, you turned around – straddling his legs, reverse cowgirl in nothing more than your panties. The air felt cold against the wet patch you had made in the fabric.

"You talk a lot, you know that?" He teased. "Come on. Back it up."

With a roll of your eyes, you crawled backwards – back and back, until your hips were hovering over his face, until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your clothed pussy. Until you were eye-to-eye with his cock, still hard and wet from your lips.

"Like this?" You asked. Your legs were shaking already just thinking about how this would go.

"No," He tutted. "Like this."

His hands snaked up to grip your hips. Then, without a word of warning, he pulled them down until you were flush up against his face. You could feel his lips as they pressed a hot kiss to your pussy through the drenched fabric – his pointed nose as it pressed deep into your cushiony lips.

You felt him hook a finger beneath the crotch of your panties. Then, he pulled them to the side.

"What are you...?" You trailed off. The moment his breath hit your bare skin, you were quiet, shuddering as a wonton gasp left your lips.

"Such a pretty pussy," He remarked. His tongue flitted out to lick a hot stripe up from your neglected clit to your entrance, and he moaned – fuck – moaned at the taste of you. His grip tightened ever-so-slightly, and then he was diving in, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.

"Fuck!" You gasped out. This angle was strange, but not at all unwelcome. "Fuck me. Oh God, Aki–"

His roommates. You thought. Surely, any minute now, they would hear the two of you. So, sparing a glance to his twitching cock, you licked your lips and sucked the tip into your mouth. This will keep me quiet.

Keep you quiet it may have done, but him? He was another story.

The moment the head of his dick was back on your tongue, he was moaning into your slick pussy, pulling you right up against his mouth while he painted circles and shapes with the tip of his tongue all over your needy cunt. It was wet back there – wet enough that your pussy met no friction when you grinded against his face, smearing your juices everywhere.

So fucking hot.

You took him deeper into your mouth, softening up your tongue to allow him more room. Then, you began to deep throat him – take him all the way down to the base.

He responded in kind with a whine, lips wrapped around your clit in a way that had you seeing fucking stars. You rutted your hips back again, desperately seeking more of that searing, white-hot pleasure he was giving you.

He was sucking on you the way you liked – like you were a jawbreaker. Like you were a four-course meal and he was a starving patron.

A few minutes later, and you were getting close already. It was a combined effort from his skilled tongue and the sound of his pretty little moans and whimpers every time you throated him down. You didn't care that your eyes were watering, that your neck and mouth were beginning to ache with the strain. All that mattered was him – the feeling of his big hands gripping your ass in his hands, smacking the skin there every so often until you were gasping (more like gagging) around him.

And, judging by the way he was beginning to squirm, you knew he was close, too. You were determined – determined to make him cum before you did. So, in an effort to finish the job, you went at it a little faster.

Up and down, up and down, sucking and slurping and moaning around his dick – which left you no room to get out anything beyond a series of gurgled moans and groans. The feeling of ecstasy washed over you like the ocean's tide, pulling you further away from shore, deeper into its blue depths.

Aki reached down to tangle a fist in your hair. He grunted something along the lines of 'Good fuckin' girl' into your pussy, and then he was guiding your head up and down his shaft. A little faster now.

Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks.

Aki sighed, throbbing in your mouth, growing bigger as you felt him get harder. In response to your ministrations, he tightened the suction around your clit, then loosened it again. It was all too much to handle – you felt like you were melting.

"Fuck," He panted, releasing the suction. His hips jumped up as he chased a little more of that release he desperately craved.

When his hand slipped behind his head to guide your head gently, bobbing you back and forth on his dick, you melted into him. You were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you were determined. His shudders and sighs spurred you onward.

"Takin' it so well," He purred, guiding your head. "Gettin' me so close."

You felt that fire in your core reignite, thighs clenching around his pretty face while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip rather unceremoniously, spit dripping down his dick. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to work the rest of him. Your tongue swirled around it like a lollipop.

You were putting in overtime.

As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him.

The muscles in Aki's thighs tensed. With a blissful sigh, he slipped a finger into your warmth. He felt so fucking good, it made your heart skip a beat – long, thick fingers sliding into you with little resistance, tongue working you up to an orgasm already.

"Oh, fuuuck..." He trailed off, then his hand fisted itself in your hair, and you felt yourself mewl. "'M so close, wait–"

(Of course, that only made you want to do it more). You wrapped your lips tighter around him, sucking him down until you were moaning around his length.

"God–" He sucked you back into his mouth, then departed from the wet flesh to shudder beneath you, "Oh, shit, I think I'm–" Another shudder, another tremble, then his hips were arching up off the bed, "Fuck–"

Then he came hard, crying out your name before he broke – popping in your mouth like bubblegum, shooting a warm load down the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, as if he hadn't expected to finish so soon, and then he was huffing out a quiet, blissed out laugh. You swallowed it like it was your job.

"Got a little excited, did we?" You teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Still, your voice was hoarse when you climbed off of him.

When you turned to face him, he didn't reply – chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was disheveled and his face was pink, glossy at the bottom where you had been seated. His blue eyes were wide and wild as he licked his lips.

Truthfully, you were okay with the fact that you hadn't finished. His reactions – feeling him arch up into you the way he did – were enough. He did not seem to share your sentiment, gazing at you like you were a slab of raw meat.

"Come here," He answered. "Ride my face, baby."

He's got some crazy stamina, you gaped at him.

Still, when he didn't revoke his statement, you began to smile. "Yeah?"

"Please," He pleaded with you.

You swung your leg over him slowly, careful and deliberate, as if you were testing the weight of the moment. The second you settled onto his chest, you felt everything shift. His body was warm beneath you, solid and unmoving, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense—sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You fidgeted, your fingers brushing over the hem of your shirt in a nervous, mindless gesture, trying to distract yourself from the way his gaze seemed to burn through you. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead in wild, disheveled strands, and his lips quirked into the faintest, laziest smirk. From here, you could see him – really see him, and he was fucking beautiful.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low, teasing, but it did nothing to ease the flutter of nerves in your chest.

Then he smiled wider, letting his head fall back against the mattress while you settled your thighs around his face. Nervously, you lowered yourself down, hovering over him. "You look great from down here, by the way."

The words struck you like a physical touch, heat rushing to your cheeks. You opened your mouth, ready to shoot back something—anything—but before you could, his hands shifted at your sides, steadying your hips as he moved down on the bed.

The motion brought you off balance, your breath catching in a sharp gasp as you pressed your palms against the wall behind him to steady yourself. The closeness was overwhelming, his body beneath yours, his hands at your waist, his grin nothing short of devilish.

"Careful," he said, his voice soft but unmistakably amused.

"You're impossible," you shot back, your words trembling as much as your hands.

"And yet, here you are," he replied smoothly, his thumbs brushing gently against your sides, sending sparks skittering along your skin.

Before you could think of a retort, you felt it—a light, barely-there press of his lips against the most sensitive part of you. Your breath hitched, your entire body freezing in place as he tilted his head, his gaze flicking up to meet yours.

"You're so tense," he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your leg as he licked another long, hot stripe across it, this one slower, more deliberate.

Your knees tightened instinctively against his face, your pulse pounding so loudly you could barely hear the soft rumble of his laugh.

"What are you—" you started, but your voice faltered when he tilted his head again, wrapping his lips around your puffy pink clit and lavishing it with attention from his tongue..

He hummed, his tone maddeningly calm, even as his fingers slid up just a fraction, his grip on your ass a little firmer now.

Your chest tightened, the heat rushing from your cheeks to the pit of your stomach. "Fuck me, Aki" you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.

"I want to," he admitted, then went back to practically making out with your pussy, sending a jolt through your body.

You tried to move, tried to pull back and regain some semblance of control, but his hands steadied you, his grip strong but never forceful. Your breath hitched again as he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity there made you forget what you were going to say, forget where you were entirely – at least, until you heard him slurping you up, gathering your juices onto his tongue.

"Aki, please, I–" You pleaded with the man. Your hand had found its way down to his head, gripping his damp, disheveled locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. "Mnnnh-"

He groaned into your flesh. With your thighs pressed against both sides of his head, he made for a pretty sight. His hair was tied into a back, though you had ruined most of it with your ruthless rutting. He did nothing to stop you as you clamped your legs over his ears, shamelessly riding his face – just as he had asked.

Prying your legs away from his face, Aki gasped for air. His face was flushed a pretty shade of red. His eyes were wild, lustful as your juices dripped off the sides of his face. "Never gettin' over how good you taste," he panted.

You lifted your hips away from his face in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Your efforts were in vain. He gripped your hips harshly, seating you on his face and then continuing to eat you up like a man starved.

You found it difficult to pry your eyes away from him. He looked so happy to be trapped between your thighs like this, like he had been waiting ages for it. The way he sucked and slurped expertly at your dripping cunt had your legs trembling around him.

"Sit," he mumbled through a mouthful of your clit.

"Don't wann'... ngh," You leaned forward, bracing your hands over the bed frame while he dragged your hips back and forth, back and forth over his face until the friction was almost too much to bear. Every time his nose bumped your clit, you mewled, rutting your hips down. "G'nna crush you."

"Sit," he affirmed. "Ride my face."

"Aki– I'm close," You managed to get out through a string of broken moans.

He moaned, pushing your hips up against his nose. He never stopped his incessant licking and sucking, tongue working you up to what would be an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy was sensitive, so sensitive, yet he wasn't going any easier on you. At this rate, you were convinced you would have to beg for mercy.

"Can't..." You panted. You weren't sure you could finish another time. You were sore, tired, and you were beyond overstimulated.

"C'mon, baby," he paused his desperate licking to beg. "You can do it for me."

You licked your lips, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes. It was all so much... too much. "I can't," you gasped.

"You can do it, baby," He purred. Sucking harshly on your clit – and then making up for it with a few gentle licks – he added. "Just one, okay?"

On cue, he slid his hands up to your waist, fingers digging into the skin on your waist. You weren't sure if you could take any more. You felt like you were going to fucking pass out.

"Aki, 'm gonna cum," You began, abruptly cutting your own sentence off with a gasp as slipped his tongue inside. "Fuck."

Aki's tongue was long, reaching deeper into you than you expected, and the angle certainly didn't make it better. Almost immediately, he had you arching up, thighs trembling as they clamped around his face, rubbing a slow, steady circle to ease you into the sudden intrusion before he began fucking it into you. You saw stars – and didn't stop moaning until he had to pry your legs open.

You raised your head off the bed, trying to rest your weight on your trembling hands, atop his bed frame so you could get a good look at him.

You would never forget the sight of him below you like that. His hair – despite having been ruined by your legs – framed his pretty face the same way it usually did. His face was dusted with a gentle, rosy hue again.

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and laid your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn't be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true.

"Oh my fucking God–" you stammered. "'M gonna cum– I'm gonna cum!"

He parted from your pussy with an obscene slurp, "Come on, baby– Cum all over my face."

And cum on his face you sure did. Instantaneously, somehow, he licked the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed.

Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his warm tongue against your pussy.

You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you expelled your juices all over his face and the bed. "Aki," you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not your soon-to-be-ex-husband, Aki.

"Oh, God, I made a fuckin' mess," You said, teetering between a gasp and a laugh.

Aki chuckled, his voice low and breathless, and somehow even in this state, he was devastatingly gorgeous. His hair stuck to his damp forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his lips curved into the kind of smile that sent warmth flooding through you. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?" he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere.

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. But then you looked at him—really looked at him. His head was tilted back against the pillow, his eyes half-lidded but still shining with that unmistakable adoration he always seemed to have when he looked at you. Blissed out and in love, he looked utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Your gaze flicked down to the pillow beneath him, and you couldn't help but cringe. A mess, indeed. The sight of it—the tangled sheets, the cotton of his pillowcase drenched, the faint evidence of your chaotic moment—was enough to make your cheeks burn again.

When you looked back up at Aki, he was already watching you, his expression softening into something lighter, something playful. For a second, neither of you said anything, just staring at each other like you couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, almost simultaneously, your eyes darted back to the pillow, and it hit you both at once.

You snorted first, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, but Aki wasn't far behind. His laughter started low, rumbling in his chest, before it grew into something freer, more unrestrained.

"Oh my God," you wheezed, doubling over as the giggles took over, your body shaking with the force of it. "Look at this—how the hell are we gonna clean that up?"

"I'll toss it in tonight, but we'll be sleeping without a pillow tonight" he managed to say between breaths, his voice breaking with laughter. "Oh, shit."

That sent you into another fit of giggles, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder. "Stop," you gasped, "Don't be a fucking dick."

a/n: there it is!! the chapter i've been busting my ass over. i hope it came out good omg, i feel like its terrible but i be way too hard on myself. i wanted to take some time to let you know that I'm currently writing the Aki fanfic that will replace this one once it's all wrapped up -- you can read the first chapters on my profile, it's called Call Out My Name, and it's about a fake marriage that leads to very real feelings (sorta enemies to lovers but not rlly, aki's just bad at expressing himself lol). I would greatly appreciate it if you could go give it a read!! If you loved Shameless, you'll love that one, too!!! Of course, though, nothing will ever replace Shameless in my heart. I love this story too damn much, and I adore the community I've built up on here. Thank you for all of the love so far!! Comment and let me know what y'all thought of this chapter, and maybe even what you hope to see in future ones!! QOTD: have you streamed Rauw Alejandro's new album? Also, is 69 actually an efficient position? (And why is the answer no).

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki fluff #aki smut #denji #aki hayakawa

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